Page 65 of Grouch-ish

Fuck. She’s going to be the death of me. A heavenly one.

With her thighs spread and cradling me between them, I line myself up once more.

“You set the pace, baby. I can go fast or slow. I can be rough or sweet. Your call.”

“Yes.” One single word gives me permission to do it all.

But first, I slide forward, watching as her body welcomes me inside her indescribable heat. Her opening is soaked, and I easily glide inward, awed as I disappear within her.

“Snowflake,” I choke at the stranglehold she has on me. Clenching me tight within her. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

“The best,” she groans, tipping back her head and arching her back as if she can draw me deeper.

I’m almost to the hilt and I pull back, teasing to withdraw completely when her hands clap on my shoulder blades. Her fingertips scratch down my back, inching toward my ass.

I surge forward and we both gasp.

“Fuck,” I moan.

“Yeah,” she whimpers.

In and out I move, bringing myself to the brink and then rushing home to fill her. Pear’s body chases mine, letting me retreat before squeezing to keep me inside, trapping my head with a hold so tight I never want her to let go. I thrust inward, setting a rhythm of long pulls and quick pushes until we’re both a mess of sweaty skin and ragged breaths.

“I want to feel you break around me.”

“Brock,” she cries out, kneading her fingers into my backside, spreading my cheeks apart. With her legs spread wide and her knees raised, I grab her shin and tug her leg toward her chest, opening her up to me.

“Yes,” she groans.

My body detects what I’ve learned about hers before this moment. How her legs stiffen. As if all the pressure collides in one spot before she combusts, falling into the release like the burst of a firework, lighting up the sky before floating back down to the ground. Sated and spent.

Her head falls back, and I wait out the final flicker of her flame before building up my own inferno, rocking into her harder, diving deeper.

“Pear,” I strain. After the way she was milking my dick, I’m going to spill any second. With a final clench from her, my dick gives out and I release on a sudden jolt. Pinpricks of light dance before my eyes, blinding me for a second. I can’t do anything but feel her around me. The slickness of her release. The tension of her channel, and the warmth of her cradling me inside her, embracing my own explosion.

My forehead falls to the pillow just above her shoulder as my breath comes ragged and quick. My heart hammers in my chest while my thoughts race.

Only one thing is clear. I’ve fallen for this woman.

Similar to the blizzard outside, I’ve lived my life like a raging storm, only to be calmed by the stillness of one snowflake.

Pear turns her head on the pillow and kisses just below my ear. Her lips against my sensitive skin are delicate, sweet, and innocent.

And the bastard that I am, I want to steal all her goodness and keep it for myself.

Chapter 19

[Pear]

We doze.

What else is there to do after such satisfying sex on a blizzardy afternoon? The wind whirls. The windows occasionally rattle. But in our blanket igloo, Brock and I nuzzle together, and nap.

Admittedly, if I had been here alone, I would have been frightened. The house is old and creaks, and while the fireplace was keeping us cozy, I don’t think I ever would have had enough chopped wood without Brock’s presence.

As I slowly stir, I watch him sleep. His sturdy nose flares as he breathes softly. With his eyelids closed, the length of his lashes is more apparent against his cheeks. The silver in his beard is solid white in patches. He’s strikingly handsome and I hesitantly hover my fingertip over his lips, mentally tracing them to store in my memory.

Tomorrow is day twelve and he’ll be anxious to go home. He’s told me how his kids are waiting, as much as college age-kids want to hang with their parents. Nick sounds like a firecracker like his father but kind and loving toward his sister. No less than it sounds like Brock is toward his own sister, Marnie, and her wife, Lisa. When Brock mentions Ellie, his face lights up, nearly blushing with love for his daughter. According to him she’s perfect, but I remember being eighteen. She has her flaws somewhere her father will never see them.