Burnout - Coralee June Page 0,90

go on and on. He watched it all, his mouth parted in ecstasy as I shivered and arched, my body contorting to accommodate the pleasure coursing through me.

And when I was done, I rested my forehead against his, breathing in his whiskey breath smell and exhaling his name. “Decker, I’m yours,” I promised.

We sat like that for a moment, his dick still hard as steel and twitching inside of me as if to spur me to move again. “Decker, I’m yours,” I said again. I wanted him to feel how much he owned me. I wasn’t sure when it happened or why the world decided two people who didn’t belong together should feel this way, but I was falling for Decker Harris. Or maybe I already had.

Finally, Decker replied to my declaration with a simple word that echoed his acceptance.

“Mine.”

In an instant, I was pulled off of him and slammed down onto the plywood floor. My head cracked against the hard wood, and the jagged grooves bit into my skin, but I didn’t care. He parted my thighs with one hard press of his hands and plunged inside of me, his slamming movement almost punishing against my sensitive pussy. “Mine,” he said with a hard thrust. “Say it again.”

“I’m yours, Decker. I’ve been yours since you confronted me in the hallway outside our loft,” I promised through broken, clipped words and harsh breaths.

“This mouth is mine.” He leaned forward and bit my lip, tugging the plush skin with his teeth as he slid in and out. Wet noises filled the treehouse as our bodies slipped and collided. “These breasts are mine,” he added before pinching my nipples between his thumb and index finger, pulling my peak as far as it would go while teetering me on the edge of pain and pleasure.

“I’m all yours, Decker,” I gritted as my back arched off the plywood.

“This tight”—pound—“little pussy”—pound, pound, pound—“is mine, too,” he promised between each slam of his cock. His touch was wrought with power. His scorching touch enveloped me in sensations, and I felt my body prepare for another orgasm.

“I’m going to come again,” I said as my bottom lip dropped, preparing to release another scream. I couldn’t keep quiet, and I was so in the moment I almost didn’t care. He placed a hand over my mouth to muffle the noise.

“Your come is for me. Only. Me,” he said.

Our bodies curled and fought as we orgasmed together. We were nothing but a collection of rising swells. Falling empires. Dying realities and blooming beginnings.

We’d become our own truths.

25

Blakely

I woke up in a cloud of soft sheets. I stretched my arms high above my head and wiggled my hips, smiling when I felt the ache there. Decker and I spent hours in the treehouse. Bugs crawled along the wilted wooden beams, an audience to our depraved declarations for one another.

We didn’t make any promises for the future. We didn’t make any plans or figure out this mess of our attraction. We simply spent hours acquainting our bodies and working each other over again and again until we were nothing but a sweaty mess of limbs. It was beautiful.

A soft knock on the door brought a smile to my face, and I got out of bed and sauntered over to the door. But when I opened it, it wasn’t Decker on the other side. It was Lance. I didn’t know why I was expecting Decker to be there. It wasn’t like we could have this sentimental morning after. We couldn’t enjoy coffee at the breakfast table while exchanging lingering stares that whispered what had transpired between us. “Good morning,” Lance said with a smile while handing me a cup of coffee. I fixed my expression into something that didn’t look like I was thoroughly fucked last night and gratefully accepted it.

“Good morning,” I replied. Lance chuckled.

“Did you sleep well? I’ve never seen you this cheerful in the morning. If you like the guest room, we can recreate it back at the loft?” he offered.

Shit. I wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding the fact that I was still high on Decker Harris. “I just really like it here,” I said. It was the truth. Despite knowing that we were running from whatever men were chasing down my father and the uncomfortable confrontation I’d had with Decker’s mother, it was lovely.

“I’m thrilled to hear that, Blakely. We can visit as much as you’d like. Mom and Dad really like you,” Lance said