Meara and Oakley Ch. 05

The pleasure rises, coiling and tightening in my belly and as I start to come, he flattens his big body over mine, pressing me further into the mattress. His hands remain at my hips, pinning me in place as he continues to drive into me.

I am wailing, cursing, possibly crying, it feels so fucking good, and I'm still coming, bucking under him. His breath is harsh at my ear.

"Keep coming, baby," he growls. "Don't stop coming for me. My girl never stops coming for me."

I couldn't if I tried.

He pounds into me and the pleasure rises and holds. It snaps through me, makes me claw at the bedspread. I am overwhelmed. My vision blurs at the lack of oxygen, both from the weight of Oakley and the deep dicking he's giving me. My cunt is a vice, a hot, wet vice, and he is practically lunging to force his cock into me over and over, battling against the tightness of my sheath. The next orgasm blindsides me and my entire body seizes in sharp pleasure.

His moans and grunts are intoxicating. In them, I can hear his want, his need for me. He's on the verge and eager, barely restrained.

"Oakley... Baby... Please..."

"Mmph...Mmph...Mmph..."

"Come... Please, come... I need it..."

A hand tangles in my hair, holds me effortlessly in place, makes me feel every inch of this claiming.

"Fuck, Meara...fuuuuck...!"

His thrusts grow erratic. Sharp.

I lick my lips, squeeze his dick even tighter.

He comes, growling and cursing, driving deep, and I take him, howling my pleasure with him.

He flops down beside me, breathing fast and hard through his nose. My body is jelly, soft and warm, and I can do nothing but stare at him from beneath my lashes. I can't say how long we lay there, but I'm in no hurry to move. Satisfied doesn't hold enough weight for what I feel.

His eyes are soft when he turns to gaze at me, and the look in them stops my heart. His gaze is full of awe and love, and no one has ever looked at me in such a way.

As girly as it is, as warm and delicious as I feel in this moment, I don't stop the mist of tears that well up in my eyes. Something in my chest, something tight and hard-edged, suddenly melts away, and I know, for certain that cutting this man loose will never be an option.

"Come here," Oakley murmurs. His hand clasps my shoulder and he pulls me close. He places a gentle kiss to my temple. His skin is slick and hot against mine. He holds me tightly.

We lay that way a long time, a tangle of hot, sweat slick limbs. As I begin to drift off, Oakley readjusts us so my back is pressed into his chest. He pulls the edges of the blanket around us, the cloth and his strong arms enough to keep any chill at bay.

"Meara."

"Hm?"

"Thank you." It's a whisper, low in the warm stillness of the room.

He can't see it, but I'm sure he can feel my smile against the curve of his arm.

"You're welcome." I place a kiss in the crook of his elbow, and add, teasingly, "Ryan."

His response is a sharp pinch to my already sensitive ass cheek.

"Little witch."