Forging Forever

by Dani Wyatt

  “This is all mine, Lela, you know that, don’t you?” Both my hands are on her ass, pushing her into the perfect position, making her ready for me.

  I don’t wait for her answer. I don’t need it. Her gasping moan is enough confirmation, filling me with an aching, pulsating lust that demands to be fed, and I push my mouth between her legs.

  Her nectar is giving away her need, and it only inflames my rampant desire. To know she wants me, to know her craving is as desperate as my own insatiable lust has me ready to come apart.

  I flatten my tongue and place it, solid and firm, over her clit. Working my face slightly back and forth over her sopping wet cunt, I open her outer lips with the center. Her flavor sets my taste buds ablaze. Memorizing her flavor as it fires through every nerve, straight into my brain.

  My mouth will never be the same. Nothing will ever taste as it used to. The flavor of the finest food and wine from this moment forward will pale in comparison to this magnificence.

  A low groan sticks in my chest as I take the first swallow of that sweet nectar. Letting her enter me like a poetic toxin. Something that could at once ruin me and make me whole all at the same time.

  I pull back, desperately gulping air, remembering that I have to breathe. But every second away from her flesh is a tragedy. Without thought, I’m back on her, kissing her up and down before lapping my tongue deep and hard into her soaking folds, listening to the whimpering noise coming from deep in her throat, feeling the silky texture of those petals as her hands grip the back of my head and her body arches above me.

  “Please...put me...put me down. You’re...going to hurt yourself holding me up here.” Her words come out in a breathy whisper, halting, unfocused, hitching as her body writhes against me.

  I answer her by ramming my face as hard as I can between her legs, spreading them farther and hoisting her up and down easily in my hands. Rubbing her shoulders against the wall as my tongue flicks and loops around her swollen nub.

  Her noises begin to come faster as I work my mouth on her. She’s so fucking wet, and it’s making my cock harder than it’s ever been. I can feel the cum seeping out of the tip, and my balls are heavy, desperate for release.

  I take her clit between my lips, sucking her into my mouth as her moans turn to rapid, deeper breaths and her hips begin to flex and twitch in time with every movement of my tongue.

  Hardening my lips, I hold her steady and start to squeeze that hard little nub, sucking harder, using my tongue to flick up and down. Then back and forth. Her body reacts immediately, violently.

  She’s there. Right there. So close. Give it to me.

  The next second, she’s filling my mouth with a flavor even more delicious. She cums, tearing at my hair, her heels kicking into my sides like a rancher at a rodeo as she rocks back and forth, back and forth on my mouth, and I have to brace to hold her naked body against the wall. I know in my heart I’ve just made her mine. She’s part of me now, and I’ll never let her go again.

  I’ll never be the same.

  C H A P T E R S I X

  LELA

  My heart is beating a thousand times faster than Bruce Banner’s when he turns into the Hulk.

  The back of my head rests against the hard wall, and my fists are full of the softest hair that’s ever existed, attached to the world’s sexiest guy.

  Miller’s kissing the insides of my thighs as they quake with the adrenaline of my orgasm, an orgasm that is the thing from which girl legends are made. That wasn’t one orgasm either. It was a series of waves of overlapping heavenly sexual paradise. As though one wave hit the shore then another and another until my body turned to JELL-O, and for the first time, I actually screamed a man’s name.

  Miller.

  And God.

  Miller and God. Both names belong to him; they are interchangeable for me at this moment.

  I’m plastered to him. The gush from my body is slick between the stubble on his jawbones, spreading over my shaking inner thighs.

  “You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined this.” Miller’s voice sends vibrations upward as he pulls his face from my trembling thighs. “Right now. You. Here. In my home.”

  His hands move in one smooth motion up to my hips, and he lifts me a few inches before lowering me to my feet in front of him. My back is still pressed hard against the wooden door because I have no strength of my own, but his arms form a cage on either side of my head, making me safe, keeping me close.

  I bring my palms to rest on his chest, exploring the hardness underneath the fabric and remembering the other hardness I felt earlier.

  I want to see it. Taste it.

  I’ve never had such bold thoughts. But something about him sets me free. I want him in a way I’ve never wanted a man before.

  I remember that I’ve never been naked like this, in the full light of day, every inch of me exposed for a man to see. But here I stand, and I barely know him, but I am stark naked and unashamed.

  As though I’m in my glory with a smattering of silver stretch marks across my belly and the scent of my arousal on his breath. I shift against the door, pressing my heels into the wood floor to keep my balance because I’m beginning to spin.

  I find his face with my eyes, and what I see frightens me, sending shivers up and down my flesh.

  His eyes are filled with need, with desire, with unquenchable thirst. His restraint is visible in the clenched jaw, so tight I hear the grinding of his teeth.

  How a man like him could be looking at a mousy, nerdy girl like me with such desire seems unreal, the kind of thing from which girlish fairy tales are spun.

  He wants you, stupid. Stop doubting yourself. Destiny tossed you a second chance, grab it by the scruff and teach it who’s boss.

  I release the breath that’s been burning my lungs and run my hands behind Miller’s neck. The muscles feel like iron; he’s so tense as I pull him down to my mouth.

  When our lips meet, I taste myself on him and nearly cum again at the sheer memory of the feelings he created between my legs.

  Our kiss has us both moaning, and Miller’s arms drop from the wall to scoop me up in one movement. Carrying me like a doll while he kisses me deeper and with more urgency than I could ever imagine.

  The raw desire translates through his kiss, feeding the moisture that is now flowing endlessly between my legs. My hands wind into his hair as the arm he has around my back tightens me against him.

  He’s carrying me down a hallway, his footsteps heavy on the floorboards. The softness of his flannel shirt warming the side of my body pressing against him.

  When he breaks our kiss, I bury my cheek into him, my eyes watching the walls as they pass with each of his steps. I glimpse an open bathroom on my right, family photos dotting the log walls. I take notice of a few taken with celebrities as Miller hands over one of his forged creations to the recipient in each picture.

  He inches me upward until my mouth is just under the square corner of his jaw where I can feel the days of beard, where I can draw in his musky scent. He’s so warm, so comforting, and I want to curl up inside of him and never leave.

  This is crazy. Am I drugged? Because this man I barely know feels like home.

  As if on cue, Miller stops outside the next door in the hallway. He freezes. His feet plant solidly under us, and I stop breathing. His fingers pressing harder into my waist.

  He’s come to his senses. I panic. He’s realized he’s about to make a mistake.

  I steady myself, preparing for the letdown. The excuse he’s conjuring on the fly to retreat from whatever this is that’s gone too far, too fast.

  The thump-thump of his heartbeat through his chest connects to the sensitive flesh on the side of my breast.

  I wait.

  Still waiting. I shift in his arms, wondering how he’s holding me so steady. Unflinching as I start to squirm.

  When he finally speaks in a low growl, his words hold none of the awkward transition I expected.

&nb
sp; “Do you have any idea what just happened?” He twists his head around as I lift mine from his neck to catch his eyes. The clear surprise in his voice has me wondering what I missed.

  I shake my head, unsure what’s going on, exactly what revelation he’s hit upon. I’m suddenly wildly conscious of how my belly folds over on itself, my belly button nowhere in sight as he squeezes me tighter.

  “This place.” He looks to the ceiling, then back and forth to each wall and back to my face. “I’ve never called this place a home before. I’ve said it’s my house. Just my house. But just a minute ago, when I said to you I’d imagined this, meaning you with me, I said ‘home.’ I’ve never used that word before to describe this place. It’s because you are here. You made it a home.”

  My ovaries are powerless against this sort of assault.

  He shifts, turns, and kicks the next door open and spins us around, crashing us into a bedroom. It’s warmer in here, with low lights that illuminate a display of glinting steel blades, arranged in a kind of fan formation above the bed.

  Everything here is neat, just the same as everywhere else, except I note a pile of chewed socks and a boot with the toe chewed out, sitting off toward the fireplace that fills one wall. Low embers still glow under the empty iron grate, leaving the lingering scent of the fire in the room.

  The sun is peeking over the tops of the trees, visible as an endless canopy through a wall of windows across from the mammoth log bed. Dark clouds drift aimlessly across the edges of the sky, threatening a turn in the weather later, but for now, it just looks like a priceless painting framed by the log walls.

  Miller shoulders the door shut behind us. The cabin is not huge, but it’s on the large side for one person.

  In the bedroom, I note the Kilm rug that adorns the pine planks adding a splash of color to all the natural wood. The placement of a faux fur throw blanket folded over the back of a distressed leather chair which sits next to its twin by the fireplace. It’s not just the bachelor thrown-together style.

  There is a hint of a woman’s touch here and there, in the throw pillows and fabrics. I mean, it’s masculine, don’t get me wrong, but there’s just this sixth sense that Miller didn’t put this all together himself.

  My mind goes back to the paperwork.

  Shirley.

  Who the heck is Shirley?

  He gently lowers me to sit on the edge of the bed, and my ass sinks into the softness.

  He stands in front of me, appraising, unmoving, and for a moment, my nakedness feels awkward. I draw up my knees a bit, and my hands rest on the sides of my thighs, elbows locked. He’s sporting a rogue grin, and it makes goose bumps swim over my skin.

  “Nice bedroom,” I mutter. Sitting on the edge of his bed naked, the only thing I think to say is, “Nice bedroom”?

  “It’s a hell of a lot nicer with you in it. You are the last perfect accessory I’ve been waiting for.”

  “Someone decorated for you, though, right? Girlfriend, maybe?” The word wife sits on my tongue as I spin my head around, regarding the room, and I hear Miller snort. The smattering of pictures sitting on the mantel above the fireplace reveal nothing more than what looks to be his mother and a few others of Miller in a football uniform another action shot with him hammering something on his trusty anvil.

  “You’re no better at fishing for information than you are at lying. Anything you want to know about me, just ask. I’m an open book. A boring one, but open.” He leans down until his nose is just in front of mine.

  My sex is still in the air between us, and as I catch a hint of it as a flush of heat cascades from my head to my feet. He moves quickly, kissing the top of my head.

  His hand moves to cradle the back of my head before his lips find their way to my ear. “No girlfriend. The only woman who’s ever been here is my mom. Unless you count the puppy. And I’ve never been so happy about that than I am right now. Believe me.”

  I take a breath and ask. “Is your mom Shirley then?”

  “Yes. She’s a handful. You’ll meet her soon enough. I love her, but...” I shake my head a little and Pip smiles back.

  “I got it. But I do believe you.”

  “Good, now, are you ready? Because I’m taking you, Lela. You know that don’t you? And I don’t want anything between us, nothing at all, you understand? You want that, don’t you? I’m safe. I haven’t been with anyone is so long. Years. And I’ve been checked and cleared long ago. I would never do anything to put you in harm’s way.”

  “I should tell you though, I’m not on anything.”

  “Good.” The fire in his eyes has me on the verge of orgasm. The fact that I’m okay with this shocks me but it feels right so decide to go on instinct and my instinct is telling me I’m right where I belong.

  He scoots me up farther onto the bed. I watch as his fingers work the buttons on his shirt. Then he’s stripping off every scrap of fabric, revealing a body that defies logic. His muscles are cut sharp and just bulky enough to speak of the power he wields.

  I imagine the endless repetitions of his hammer onto steel, forging the metal and himself in the process, shaping every ripple of musculature under his smooth skin.

  Lastly, I’m fixated on the size of his hands as they pinch the waistband of his boxers. His erection is clearly visible, but when he snaps them down and kicks them off his feet, I’m shell-shocked.

  “My God.” I nearly choke on the golf ball lodged in my throat. “Everything about you is supersized,” I mumble as he steps forward and braces his arms on either side of me crawling forward. The wetness between my legs revives itself, and I now swallow the droll that is about to spill from between my lips.

  My hands go to his shoulders, needing to touch him, to feel him under my fingers just to make sure he is real.

  That this moment is real. This is so unlike me, but I don’t want it to stop.

  It’s more than right.

  Sometimes you just know. Don’t you?

  I want that monster inside me like I’ve never wanted anything in my life.

  “Promise me something,” Miller groans as the silky skin of his cock meets my inner thigh. The wet tip leaving a trail of heat in its wake, and I instinctively open my legs to offer him access. “Promise me you believe this is something. Something real. This. Us. I know it’s crazy, but I know you already, Lela. Like we’ve known each other for such a long time. That we are something together already. Promise me you believe that too.”

  I search his face. Such brutal masculinity and heartfelt honesty. There is nothing false about him, and I nearly peak in orgasm at the raw emotion I see in his eyes.

  But he’s right. The cascade of feelings drowning me are new. One-in-a-lifetime sort. There’s a gravity between us that pulsates and pulls from somewhere between my stomach and my spine, a place undiscovered until him. That moment I met him awoke a part of me that had hibernated waiting just for Miller.

  “Yes,” I whisper. “This is something. I promise.”

  He shifts his hips and positions himself between my legs.

  “Open your legs farther for me.” His voice darkens. “I need to know you want this, that you want me.” The sliver of doubt I hear has my heart breaking.

  I dig my heels into the mattress and spread as wide as my body allows, pushing my hips upward until the head of his cock against my opening, sending a surge of desire over me.

  “I want you inside me. Please, I need you.”

  “Goddamn. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Lela. And you want me.” With a twist of his head I see the sincerity in his words. “I’m going to forge a set of shackles and chain for you just to make sure you never disappear again.” His lips mount mine and I’m lost.

  His kiss tells me a thousand stories about who we will be together.

  His erection presses just inside me, a gentle connection at first, slowly at first as his tongue opens my mouth, and he lets out a groan of need that escapes from somewhere deep in his being.
r />   He pulls his face back, freezing in place with just the first inch of his monster already stretching me.

  “It’s going to hurt. I’m sorry.” The regret in his voice is tipped with painful restraint.

  “I don’t care. I want you inside me. Please don’t make me beg. I don’t care if it hurts. It just means I’ll remember this moment that much more. I’ll remember it that much clearer, and for the rest of our lives.” I close my eyes and press my head back into the bedding. My inner muscles flex, trying to pull him farther inside me.

  “Look at me. I want to see your face. The first time I make you mine.”

  My eyes drift open, as he thrusts hard into me, making me yelp with shock. But I keep my eyes on him. He’s looking at me with such intensity a mini orgasm breaks free, and I explode on his first few inches.

  The way he’s looking at me has me jerking and moaning. His eyes tell me his only interest is how it feels for me, how much he’s pleasing me. And if I could form words, I would tell him everything, but I’m only able to writhe and moan as he strokes more of my orgasm from me.

  He works his mouth down my neck, distracting me with his teeth and his lips as he pulls out then slides forward, bringing more of him inside me as my body struggles to lubricate the way, to ease his entry. He’s splitting me. The pain accentuates the moment, and it’s exhilarating.

  His size is unlike anything I ever could have imagined, and I just hope and pray I can take it all. I want all of him inside me. Every inch. So he can feel just how much I want this.

  I bring my hips up in time with his movements. He’s alternating biting and kissing the crook of my neck, and I feel another orgasm building quickly.

  Something hits me I’ve never felt before, and before I can think it through, I’m moaning words as they flow through my brain, arching my neck to the side, offering him more of me.

  “I want your cum inside me. I want it all.”

  “Fuck, Lela.” His voice sounds as though I’ve just punched him. “You talk like that and I’m going to cum right now, but I want to last. I want this moment to last.”