A Matter of Time 07 - Parting Shot (MM)

by Mary Calmes

  His entry burned, even with the lube, and instead of the usual slide, he had to wedge himself in, grind and shove, inch by inch.

  “Jerk yourself off. You’re so tight and hot there’s no way I can do anything but fuck you.”

  His words, my hand on my shaft, tugging and pulling, and his thick cock moving inside me made me jolt backward and impale myself on his length.

  “Oh fuck,” Aaron rasped, hands like claws on my shoulders, holding tight as he eased back. “Baby, can you feel me?”

  My muscles twitched and rippled around him, clenching, wanting to keep him steady and still even as the throb that resonated through me encouraged him to move. “Aaron, please.”

  He pushed in deep and a shiver that was half-pain, half-pleasure rolled through me.

  “I don’t want––to hurt––”

  “No,” I said, feeling dazed and heavy with need.

  “I just want to bury myself in you.”

  “Yes,” I pleaded. “Hurry.”

  “You have no idea how badly I want those boots over my shoulders and you under me.”

  “I’ll keep them on all night,” I promised, my breath catching, “if you fuck me now.”

  “I’m taking you right here,” he swore and rammed himself all the way inside me.

  That fast it went from sharp and stinging to a dull, blooming ache I wanted to rub, over and over, on the end of his dick.

  He stroked in and I bent forward, taking him deeper, the languid pace opening me until my body stopped fighting, stopped trying to push out and sucked in.

  “Holy fuck, baby, your ass.”

  I needed to be on the ground and so sank to my knees. Aaron followed, connected, his thighs plastered against mine before he pistoned inside me.

  Fists clenched on the carpet, I took the pounding because I wanted it, too good to stop. When I felt the sizzling heat tighten my balls, rise from the base of my spine to my stomach, I whispered I was close.

  “You’re not touching your cock.”

  “Don’t—” I gasped. “—have to.”

  He bent over me, his fingers lacing with mine as he sucked between my shoulder blades, biting down as his driving rhythm, the forward and back, became only about being buried inside of me. He wanted to be in, and that was all.

  I bit my lip hard so I wouldn’t scream and came on the ground under me, spurting thick and messy.

  Aaron hammered me through my drowning orgasm and his own release seconds later. He spilled, hot and thick, and then collapsed across my back, replete and panting. “Ohmygod, I love you,” he groaned.

  “That is sex talking,” I said as I tried to calm my racing heart.

  “No,” he countered, lifting up and easing gently from my still spasming channel.

  Luckily, his Phileas Fogg costume had lots of layers, so he took off his jacket, then the waist coat, followed by the fancy shirt under that, and finally the sweaty T-shirt sticking to his torso, leaving on only an off-kilter silk scarf.

  “You look completely debauched,” I teased.

  “Oh, Mr. Pirate,” he said, leaning over to kiss me, “it’s all you. You, sir, look utterly ravished.”

  “Is that hot?”

  “Oh fuck yeah,” he answered as he used the T-shirt to wipe my ass, the insides of my thighs, and finally mop up, and then rub in, the come splatter on the floor.

  “You ground it in,” I scolded him.

  “Baby, they have to clean all the carpets in here after this event—the whole place, all right? Let’s not worry about some spooge on this one little area.”

  I laughed.

  “Hey.”

  “What?” I couldn’t stop smiling.

  He cleared his throat. “Marry me, all right?”

  That fast we were all serious. “You’re sure?”

  “I am.”

  “Can’t get married in Chicago,” I said, running my fingers over the chain at his throat.

  It turned out Aaron was the one who needed grounding, especially when he had to fly away from me for business. The collar he had removed from me that night in Sedona had never come off of him and was always flipped to the D for Duncan. I would have been the only person who saw it, but the chain had been visible in pictures snapped at a hot springs in Landmannalaugar, Iceland.

  “We’ll have a civil union here and go get married in New York.”

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Are you listening to me?”

  “Yeah, sorry. I was admiring your collar, Mr. Sutter.”

  Instantly, his smile returned.

  “So where are we getting married?”

  “In New York.”

  “Well, that’s kind of fitting, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  I stared into his eyes and he held my gaze. “Okay, then.”

  His face lit up. “That’s a yes?”

  “It is.”

  He reached for me, and I met him halfway, kissing and hugging and trying to press together tighter.

  Once we could both stand and get dressed, we rejoined the crowd, grabbed drinks, and found our seats at the table with Max and Astrid and Prentiss. Aaron lost no time telling them and asking Max to be his best man.

  Max nodded quickly and lunged at Aaron; Astrid, seeing him, covered her mouth with her hand. I could tell she was trying really hard not to cry. It was nice to see the brothers Sutter having such an unguarded moment. I put my arm around her and tucked her against me. The way she snuggled in was nice. I had a family again, and I was so very thankful.

  After dinner, while people were dancing, Aaron sat with his long muscular legs in my lap as we talked. His face was flushed, and the white cravat at his throat contrasted beautifully with his bronze skin and gold hair. His eyes were soft as he stared at me like he was drunk.

  “You look wasted.”

  “No, just looking at you.” He sighed. “I like looking at you.”

  “You know all this lovey-dovey crap will fade, right?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” he said thoughtfully. “It’s permanent. I’m in love.”

  “Me too,” I said, massaging his calves, using the strength in my hands to push into the muscles and knead them.

  He whimpered in the back of his throat.

  “Feel good?”

  “God, yes.”

  “Maybe I should take you home and give you a full body massage.”

  “Will you wear the boots?”

  I couldn’t stop smiling. “Sure.”

  “Okay, you’re on.”

  And as usual, when we left, after saying goodnight to Max and Astrid and even Prentiss, he was holding my hand.

  About the Author

  MARY CALMES lives in Lexington, Kentucky, with her husband and two children and loves all the seasons except summer. She graduated from the University of the Pacific in Stockton, California, with a bachelor’s degree in English literature. Due to the fact that it is English lit and not English grammar, do not ask her to point out a clause for you, as it will so not happen. She loves writing, becoming immersed in the process, and falling into the work. She can even tell you what her characters smell like. She loves buying books and going to conventions to meet her fans.