by Teagan Kade
We kiss and I’m conscious of the urgency in it. I let my hands slide into his hair, pull him into it and let his tongue explore my mouth.
He smells good, really good for someone who’s been laid up in bed. Beyond is the shampoo I just used, my freshly toweled skin still smarting from the shower.
I open my mouth wider and press my lips to his, never want this kiss to end, for this moment to be frozen in time for all eternity.
I break away panting, struggling for breath. This has been building up for days and I’m not sure I’m going to last a single second more without him inside me.
He presses his forehead to mine, breathing hard. “We never got to consummate the marriage, you know.”
“Honeymoon sex?”
“That’s right. I had it all planned out.”
“You did?”
He nods against me, turning us so the back of my legs hit the edge of the bed. He keeps coming forward and I’m folded down onto the mattress, forced onto my back.
“What are you going to do?” I pant, already spreading my legs in anticipation.
“Well, Mrs. King, why don’t you just lie back and see for yourself?”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
NOLAN
I crouch down and pull her towards me, the plump lips of her sex an inch from my face. It’s beautiful. I could stare at it for hours studying the subtle lines, the wet center…every intricate detail.
I start on the puffy flesh of her inner thigh, just above the knee, slowly kissing my way towards the pink beacon of her pussy.
Her hands go to her breasts. She kneads them slowly while I gently pass my tongue along her slit, shifting to the other leg. She lets out a sigh—mixed pleasure and annoyance—before I move back up and let my tongue dive deep into her hole.
Linnea lets out a sharp, stunted moan as I taste her. I can’t get enough, cock thick and hard between my legs, the warmth and wetness welcome against my tongue, lips and lower face.
I explore her with my tongue, let it wander and test the textures of her pussy until she’s lifting from the bed, her ass cheeks pressing together as she does so, her entire body bent and contorted.
I taste and study, lap and lick, force my tongue as far as it will go inside her. As I lift, I’m rewarded by the sight of her nipples turning to tawny towers beyond, her thumb and forefinger ringing them to attention.
The moaning becomes a constant, a droning endorsement of my powers.
This is my wife and I intend to make it known I adore every hot inch of her.
I take my index finger and let it sit against the slack valley of her sex, hold it there while I concentrate on her clit. Once I’m sure she’s ready I slide the finger inwards to the third knuckle. I turn and hook it upwards, let it sit against the new texture that marks out her g-spot. Her back bows and I know I have the right spot.
She sits up and looks down at me, eyes wide and manic. She starts to shift her hips forward, bucking herself against my face and finger.
“God, Nolan,” she pants. “That’s…so…so, so good.”
Her words are disjointed, voice thick with delight.
I let my finger fuck her faster, sucking her clit harder, never letting up on the rhythm for a single second.
“Fuck,” she pants, mono-syllabic, jerking and writhing, hands moving from her breasts to weave through my hair, pulling and gripping to bring me closer, and it’s then I know she’d pull me right into herself if she could, whatever it took to get off.
I ease up, slow the pace until her thighs snap around my head, her fingers clawing at my scalp, willing me on. I know this kind of teasing will be killing her, but I also know it will pay off in the long run.
Besides, I’m not ready to finish. I enjoy this, eating her out, feeling the way each lash of my tongue makes her wetter, separating the flavors of her sex from one another, the full spectrum of her desire against my tongue.
“Fuck, yes. Yes. Please, let me come,” she pleads. “Please!” she screams, shaking now, caught in a seizure of ecstasy, her cum flowing freely.
But it’s not enough. I want her to remember this moment. I want her to come harder than she’s ever come before.
I let my finger slide from her pussy. I feel the loss of it, the way her walls contract closed once more. She’s already begging me to put it back in, but I ignore her protests, coming free of the hot space between her legs.
I grab her hip and flip her over so she’s lying on her stomach. I drag her to the edge of the bed and kick her legs apart with my knees, her pussy splitting open—cherry red and inviting.
“Nolan, what are you doing?” She’s trying to look behind herself, frantic and flustered. I see the way her skin blushes before orgasm, the patches of pink spreading out over the ivory white of her skin that mark her desperation.
I end her torment by sliding my middle finger deep into her pussy, let the tip find her g-spot once more. From below, I let my thumb work her clit, the two digits together like a crab’s claw slowly bringing her to the edge of orgasm.
“Ho-ly fuck,” she shivers, hands splaying out to steady herself.
But I saved the best for last.
Slowly, painfully slow, I bring my free hand up and fill it with one of her ass cheeks. I pull it to the side, the tight button of her asshole revealed under my watchful eyes.
Her body goes drum tight, but I won’t relent.
“Nolan?”
Cheeks spread, I come forward and lick the rim of her asshole with the very tip of my tongue, pulling back to savor her reaction.
She’s completely stiff, a silent thrum of something new and bold working its way through her as I return and lick again, firmer and stronger now, letting my tongue ring her hole and tap against its center.
I add pressure to her clit with my thumb, drive my middle finger in deeper to her wetness, working her in a come-hither motion until I know there’s no return.
And it’s then, right as I add a second finger to her sex, as I place my lips against her taint, she reaches the threshold.
Her pussy is molten, flooded as if by fire, clamping and releasing against my fingers, her ass cheeks clapping together as I pull away, her whole body caught in a rippling wave of shock.
She doesn’t speak through her orgasm—only grunts as I let my thumb work over her clit.
I reach down and find my cock, jerking myself off at the sight, forced to stop before I release, too.
When I’m sure she’s done, one final shudder and clench to signal the end of it, I withdraw my fingers and run them into my mouth, savor once more the sharp taste of her sex.
She looks back and watches me with glassy, bottle-green eyes, hands reaching to spread herself for me. Her face is red and wild. “Fuck me,” she says, simple as that.
I don’t need a second invitation. I pick her up around the waist and lift her onto her knees on the bed, put one foot up onto the mattress as I angle myself behind her. I take hold of my cock and place it against her cleft, driving deep.
She lets her stomach drop and moans. The sound she makes every time I plunge inside her is so sweet, so fucking perfect I almost come then and there, but I hold off and thrust forward again, amazed how wet she is for me, the flood of slick need that envelops my cock each time I slide into her.
She begs for more—to go deeper, harder.
I grip her ass with both hands, feel myself slowly lose control and fuck her sweet body with everything I have.
I can’t see them, but I feel her swollen breasts swinging together ahead of me, the honey-soft mounds of her ass filling my fingers, the whole thing heaven incarnate.
I close my eyes and concentrate, can still taste her in my mouth as I stroke deeper.
A low growl starts somewhere in my chest. My balls tighten. I slow down, pausing at the end of her before thrusting hard, each one met with a punctuated gasp from her lips.
Her hand moves between her legs. She fingers her clit in fast circles, willing herself towards a second org
asm.
“Keep…going,” she moans.
I let go of her ass, reaching forward for her hips and pulling her against me hard, each collision of our bodies defined by a wet slap that sounds across the room.
I hope to hell she was right about us being alone.
My head’s a blur. I can’t separate cock from consciousness. It’s one and the same.
I’m sweating, heaving against her with my full weight, the bed shifting across the floor with each vaulted thrust.
“Yes,” she groans, purring in delight, “give it to me.”
Her finger becomes a blur against her clit and suddenly she’s convulsing again.
It’s a miracle I’ve held off this long, but the sensation of another climax sweeping through her, the sudden waver in her voice… It’s too much.
I breach her with short, hard thrusts, her pussy clamping down on my cock. There, deep inside the silky pocket of her sex, I come like I’ve never come before. I shoot my load, my moans mingling with hers and each contraction of her pussy met with another rush of cum.
I fall over her back, my cock still jerking inside her, my fingers weaving into her hair and tightening inside it. I fist it in my hand and lift her head from the mattress, cheek hot and red from lying against it. She turns and I catch her mouth, covering it with my own.
Still panting heavily, I fall to the side and bring her with me, another jerk from my balls met with a phantom contraction from her pussy, the two working in tandem to draw out every ounce of pleasure.
We lie there in silence for several minutes recovering, Linnea tucked into my chest.
When she opens her legs again, it’s almost a shock, waking me from some strange slumber.
She reaches between herself, fingers testing the area where my length remains inside her. “You’re still hard,” she muses.
“Can you blame me?” I tell her.
With more poise than seems physically possible, Linnea pushes back, rolling me onto my back. She tucks and lifts, turns until she’s straddling me, my cock still inside her.
Hands on my chest, she slowly begins to grind down, smiling all the while. “You think you’ve got anything left for me?”
I’m not sure, to be honest, but the way she’s moving against me is suggesting that might be in question.
I go to reach for her, but she swats my hands away. “No, this is my treat.”
Her hips rock and roll against me. It’s a hot mess between us, sticky and wet. Most girls would be running for the bathroom, but Linnea couldn’t care less. If anything, it’s only making the whole thing hotter. I feel fresh desire coating my cock, the greater freedom it allows inside her.
Her breasts bounce high on her chest. She takes a hand from my chest to caress one of them, fondling it as she rides my cock.
I watch with fascination at the way her fingers move to find her nipple, pinching it until it’s pebble hard and a deep, ochre brown.
Once again, the sight overwhelms me. My cock starts to jerk with the first hints of orgasm, balls lifting back in position apparently not spent.
I can’t do anything but lie there as she fucks me, smiling and teasing and rolling those perfect hips until she knows I can’t hold back any longer.
I tell her, announce I’m going to come.
I expect her to stay in position, let this climax meet the first somewhere in the hot space of her sex, but instead she reaches down and takes hold of the root of my cock, a single second to lift herself from me before taking me into her mouth.
“Shi—” but I don’t get the word out before I climax. A pained groan escapes my lips just as I fill her mouth with my release.
Her lips remain tight around my cock. To my complete and utter surprise, she swallows hard, taking it all, not a single drop leaving her lips.
I’m seeing stars—literally—lost in a distant universe, pins and needles followed by a cold wave that spreads to my extremities. It’s like she’s sucking away my very soul.
She swallows the entire mouthful, topping it off by licking the head of my cock clean.
She sits back on her haunches licking her lips. “Damn. Surprisingly delicious.”
I convulse again, can’t seem to control it.
“You all good there or do I need to go get medical attention?”
I shake my head, but the stars remain. “Just give me a moment.”
“How’s that for honeymoon sex?”
“If that is the start of our sex life,” I tell her, “I can’t wait to see what you pull out for our anniversary.”
*
The following morning there’s a knock on the bedroom door, Phoenix’s telltale voice following. “Hey, lovebirds, someone’s here to see you.”
Linnea wakes, lifting herself from my chest with one red cheek. She looks down at the circle of drool she’s left behind. “Shit, sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I smile, stroking her hair. “I wish I could sleep as peacefully and deep as you do.”
“After last night, do you blame me?”
“True. Guess I don’t need a gym if I’ve got you.”
She kisses me. “And we haven’t even started on the Kama Sutra.”
I purr in approval dreaming up the many possibilities. After all, she is flexible.
“Who do you think it is?” asks Linnea.
“I don’t know, but I guess we better get dressed. Wouldn’t want to show up to our mystery visitor buck naked now, would we?”
She reaches down and gives my cock a squeeze. It twitches at her touch. “If it’s one of Rex’s goons, you can just club him over the head with this.”
“A light breeze would bowl those idiots over,” I reply.
Getting up is the last thing I want to do, but another rap on the door cements it.
It’s Phoenix again. “Put your dick away and get downstairs, will you? Jamie’s a nice guy, but he not going to wait around all morning while you two play hide the sausage.”
I shake my head. “Coming.”
“Too much information,” he says, muttering as he walks off.
We dress quickly and head downstairs, Linnea in a tight crop I’m doing my best to ignore.
Jamie’s waiting at the breakfast bar. “Ah, here they are, fresh from…” he stops, unsure what to say. He extends his hand to Linnea instead. “Jamie Henton, at your service.”
She takes it. “Linnea Marsden.”
“A pleasure,” he says. “And a nice change. I’ve heard a lot about you. Look—” he throws his satchel up and starts to pull out manilla folders “—I thought I’d come around and show you these offers.”
Linnea sits beside me on a stool. “Both of us?”
“Sure,” he smiles. “Two birds with one stone and all that.”
“You sound like you’ve come to kill us,” I laugh.
“With money and gifts and fame—if that’s what you want,” he cautions, looking between us. “The decision is entirely up to you, but I should warn you…”
I’ve heard this spiel about ten thousand times from both Jamie and my father. It seems a King rite of passage. “…These offers are time limited,” I finish. “You’ll have to make a decision soon, yadda yadda yadda.”
Jamie seems impressed. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.” He splits the folders, sliding one pile to Linnea and the other to me. “Have at it, kids.”
I still think it’s amusing Jamie sees us as children. He’s been around the family as long as I can remember, and to his credit, he’s a fine agent, but he’s old school—all business polish and pressed suits. It’s not my world.
Jamie picks up his satchel and nods to us in turn. “I’ll going to head off, but read, think, and get back to me. I got to say it’s kind of bittersweet seeing the last of the King kids off, but I guess all good things must come to an end.”
“Until the next generation arrives,” I tell him.
He looks to Linnea. “Is there something I should know?”
“No,” she replies qu
ickly shaking her head and extending out the word. “Definitely not.”
“Yet,” I add.
Jamie sees the look of surprise on Linnea’s face. “Right, I’m going to leave you two to hash that out. Speak soon.”
He heads off.
“Are we starting a family, are we?” she asks, more of a tease than a serious question. “I wouldn’t say no to a rug rat or two, especially if they get your genes, but for the time being I think we’re best holding off, wouldn’t you say?”
“Diapers, sleep deprivation, and dummies? Ti and Maya can have it, thank you very much,” I agree.
I pick up a folder, Linnea doing likewise.
“Shall we?” I ask.
She flips open the first. “We shall.”
*
It’s exciting, in a way, looking through the offers and seeing what each team has come up with. I wasn’t expecting such generosity. There are cars and condos, sponsorship deals lined up before I’ve even hit the ice, sketches and mock-ups and graphics galore. It’s a bit unreal, to be honest.
Given what I’m hearing from Linnea, her offers aren’t quite as grand, but she seems happy enough, oh-ing and ah-ing from time to time, detailing her knowledge of each city and trying to place us there, plan out how it would work.
Eventually we’ve narrowed the offers down to two teams each.
Phoenix, having prepared a breakfast of champions for us, slides the plates across. “I went a bit creative with the French toast. Tell me what you think.”
I take a bite. “Delicious.”
“Phoenix!” Heather calls from upstairs. “Come back to bed!”
“That’s my cue,” he smiles, his shirt half off before he’s hit the stairs.
I look to Linnea. “So, who did you choose?”
She shuffles between the folders. “Boston’s starting a new team next year. Looking over the roster it sounds pretty promising, and it would be good to start fresh, build it from the ground up.” She moves to the other folder. “The Washington Mystics also have a pretty good offer here, but I don’t know. It’s a hard choice. What about you?”
I fold up my two folders. “You’re never going to believe this, but, drum roll, the Bruins and the Capitals.”