All That Glitters (Unfamous Series, Book #2.5)

Ch. 6 | Galaxies & Nebulas

Ace looks down at me with a look of pleasant surprise that makes his green eyes glitter like sunrise over a mossy forest lake, “Are you sure?” As he asks me, he presses himself into me creating that breath-taking pressure between our thighs again. I’m still thrumming with the aftershock of my spontaneous climax so that small movement brings it to the surface again before it has a chance to moderate itself. It’s not as forceful as before; it’s now a mellow wave of warmth that rolls through me and makes me bite the corner of my lip.

I grunt softly and bring my feet further up the bed so that my knees barricade my beautiful toffee skinned lover between my legs, then I raise my hips to him and curl my waist so that my softness strokes his whole hardness from base to tip. His groan rumbles from deep within his chest and he closes his eyes as if the only way he can keep himself together is by visually blocking out my presence, but I don’t want him to keep himself together, I want to see him fall apart and crash and burn on top of me. I press my lips to the underside of his taut jaw, kissing him softly along the edge as I curl against him again, and sigh his name into his ear like a prayer. His hips buck as a piece of his control falls away, and I yelp then whine softly from the sudden impact, still too sensitive to simply take it for what it is; the start if his undoing. I’m still riding the carnal high he created, still thrumming with climatic energy, reluctant to let this euphoria end. I know he is on the cusp of it and I want to take him there with me so he can understand our sexual awakening in the same tongue as me because its language is beautifully liberating and laced with the kind of romantic prose that would make Juliet swoon with rapture. My previous partners never did this to me, not even when we were engaged in the full blown act of sex. There’s something about Ace’s pull that I can’t describe the way that it deserves to be described. It’s unapologetic the way it burns hotter than any flame and scorches me from the inside out to the point where I want to make love to him until I turn to ash in his embrace. I ache to feel all of him; I want the extravagant display of fireworks burst behind my eyes as we truly experience each other for the first time. I nip his earlobe and my voice quivers through the thrumming as I tell him, “Yes.”

He lifts himself off of me and kneels between my thighs, and those summertime eyes trail their heated gaze up and down the central line of my writhing frame. I don’t like that he’s pulled away. I can’t bear the physical disconnect; his weight on top of me satiated my craving for the time being, but without it I instantly go into remission. I whine and reach for him but he doesn’t make a move to placate me, he just kneels and watches me with a raised eyebrow and the corners of his full starburst flavoured lips curled into a sexy smirk. “Yes?” he asks in that think and heavy voice.

I whimper and lace my leg around his hip in response, yanking him forward feverishly and raising my pelvis. I brush my front against him, slinking my softness seductively from side to side, then up and down from his base to his tip again. “Yes.”

He holds there for a while, letting me grind onto him, watching my chest rise and fall with a staccato breathing pattern, and my stomach clench and my thighs quiver. He graces my lips with feather light kisses, then again and again. I increase the pressure of my movements but keep the same easy pace; he kisses me a little harder, a little longer, murmuring gutturally against my lips about how fucking good it feels. I reach between us and slip my fingers into the waistband of his trousers, pulling it away from his warm butterscotch skin, then running them back and forth over the waistband of his fitted boxers that his rigidness strains against, so close to touching him but making him wait for it; I want him to ache for me. I undo his trousers and pull the top of his boxer down just enough that I free his swollen tip. I make contact with it with the tip of my fingers, rubbing his leaked moisture over him in smooth, slow circles. His hips buck in my hand and he bites my mouth in protest. “Don’t do that, you’ll make me…fuck!” I’ve pull his boxers all he away down unleashing his rigid fullness. My eyes widen. I grab a hold of him and my thumb and my index finger don’t meet. Oh my! I groan and bite him back, close my wide eyes, and then I’m kissing him hard and deep, wrapping all of me around him, arms, legs, thighs and hips, crushing every square inch of myself against him as if I could fall into him and make us one. Ace groans and pushes his tongue into my mouth so I can taste his hunger, then reaches hastily into my leggings, past my frenchies and directly inside of me. He twirls his finger, and then slowly withdraws from me completely, no longer crushed against or twirling around in me. A delayed gasp rushes out of my lips and my body convulses from the abrupt momentary sensation. I prop myself up on my elbows and stare at him with his wild green eyes, swollen pink lips, and a sizeable member that would make a porn star envious. He watches me and sucks on his finger that he had so unfairly taken from within my walls. “Mmm,” he moans.