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The rain pattered gently on the window, thunder rumbling weakly in the distance. A flicker of lightning helped brighten the room barely illuminated by the soft light of your bedside lamp. You felt the wind rush from your lungs as Chris dropped you onto the mattress without much courtesy. His fingers curled wordlessly into your sleep shorts and started to tug. Your legs kicked against the cloth to help with their removal. You’d decided to forgo underwear that night. A blessing you realized now as Chris crawled up the bed.
He settled down onto his stomach, elbows digging divots into the sheets that they likely wouldn’t abandon for a while. Chris grabbed the backs of your knees and hefted them over his broad shoulders. Your feet cut through the air to bump against his ribcage. Chris allowed his arms to hook under your thighs, palms coming up to rest near your hips. He hauled you close. A hot breath, an exhale of relief akin to the feeling of coming home. It billowed across your wet cunt.
“Missed you,” Chris mumbled, barely audible. Your hand reached down to drag your fingers through his short cropped hair, dipping lower to graze his cheek. Chris’ eyebrows pulled together, dark brown eyes shimmering with a softness he reserved only for you these days. You melted at the pitiful look he gave you. You knew the older you both got, the more he resented the time he was away.
“I missed you, too,” you breathed back. A lump formed in your throat. Neither of you knew how long it would be before he was called away again.
The welling in your eyes dissipated, a gasp ripped from the bottom of your lungs as Chris dragged the flat of his tongue up the entirety of your pussy. Your head fell back against the pillows, and your hips raised up off the one beneath you. Chris squeezed at your hips, urging you back down, a quiet plea for you to relax. There was nothing to chase, no finish line intended. Just the constants of the rain and his mouth.
Chris let the tip of his tongue part your folds as he slid up again. His nose bumped your clit first before his tongue followed the trail. He circled it gingerly, coaxing a response. It was instant, your clit standing at attention from the delicate flicks of his tongue. A hum reverberated from Chris’ throat, flowing out to buzz against your skin. You made a low noise of your own. You could have sworn you felt him smile as he sucked you into his mouth.
You sighed, loud, pleased, and another rumble of thunder rocked the house, a little louder now. Chris smoothed his fingers along the tops of your thighs. He tugged you even closer. You felt his nose pressing against your pubic bone. If he had his way, Chris would die a happy man suffocating on your cunt. He released you from the vacuum of his mouth to drop his jaw, inhaling sharply. Chris lowered his head to lap at your entrance, obscenely wet noises ringing against your ears as he dipped his tongue inside to taste your slick as it spilled freely from your pussy.
“Jesus, Chris .” You felt feverish, like he’d crawled under your skin and was lighting you on fire. The look on his face was the opposite: a soft expression, eyes closed. He was self-soothing on your cunt, and it sent a spark of electricity along the cords of your muscles. You moved your hands back to his hair, nails biting against his scalp. It earned you a growl against your swollen lips. Chris raised his head slightly. The yellow light of the lamp caught the shine of your wetness soaking his beard.
“You taste so fucking good , sweetheart,” he rasped, turning his head to lave his hot tongue across your thigh. He pressed a kiss against the wet line he’d left behind. “God, I’d stay here forever if I could.” You didn’t miss the slight crook of his lips, a raise of his brow. You had a feeling he wasn’t just talking about eating you out. Unspoken though it was, you wished you could hear it from his mouth: I’m sorry I’m not here more often. I’m sorry I haven’t married you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But for now, this was the best apology you were going to get. It would have to do. And you would take it every time.
“Mm, tempting,” you murmured finally as a response. Chris’ expression softened further, and a real smile pulled at his lips. Apology accepted . He leaned forward and nuzzled his nose against your belly. He touched his lips against you, a tender gesture, before returning back to his safe haven between your thighs.
Everything in both of you relaxed again as Chris slotted his mouth to your cunt again. Spit drooled past his lips when he took your clit into the heat of his mouth again. Your back arched off the bed. You moaned softly, hands falling to find a lifeline in the sheets. You tossed your head to the side, huffing and keening. He pulled you even closer.
You knew it was the first of many as your orgasm washed over you, slow and pleasant. Pulse pounding against your throat, your mouth fell open in a whine before snapping shut. Your eyes rolled back, lids fluttering, and your clit twitched excitedly against his tongue. A rush of wetness slipped from your entrance, soaking the sheets beneath you. Chris’ mouth popped as he broke the seal his lips had formed around your aching nerves. You rocked against nothing, riding out the aftershocks.
“Not done with you,” Chris assured you, voice rough. He snaked one hand away from the hold on your thigh to press his fingers against your sopping cunt. Chris sank two fingers into you. Your walls, still sensitive, clamped down in surprise at the overstimulation. Chris was catching his breath, watching with fascination as your pussy seemed to beg for his touch. He dragged his digits against you slowly. Once Chris had sufficiently steadied his breathing, he pulled his fingers free. You immediately groaned.
Chris’ hand returned to its spot on your thigh; your wetness was smeared on your skin as he gripped you, leaving soft ridges in your flesh. Your heels dug against his ribs. A plea. He heeded you (he always did) and dove back down like a man starved.
He lived there for hours. The storm rolled across your home, banging against the windows in an effort to be known. But neither of you dared look up. Chris, drunk on the taste of you, pulled you through the waves of half a dozen more orgasms. Each time you came, he felt a little closer to salvation, a little bit nearer to making up for the way you missed him. Your cunt was puffy, dark from overstimulation. A sheen of sweat covered both you and Chris. The muscles of his back shimmered, and they flexed occasionally as he continued to lick at you.
“Need to tap out,” you slurred, palm swatting at the back of his head. “Please.”
Chris leaned back. Blessedly, it seemed like he was also ready for a break. He rocked back onto his knees. His lips were swollen, deep pink from his efforts. He dragged the back of his forearm across his mouth, twisting his palm to run it down his chin. Your thighs were irritated from the scratch of his beard. You’d feel it worse in the morning.
“Should have laid a towel down,” Chris mused quietly. He lifted you by your hips and helped you shimmy away from the generous wet spot on the bedding. You laughed a little, the sound drowned out by an angry burst of thunder. Chris remained where he was kneeling, looking down on you with affection clear in his pretty brown eyes.
“Feel better now?” you asked him, digging the heel of your palm into your eye. You exhaled slowly, heart still beating quickly.
“Mhm.” Chris crawled over top of you slowly. His lips found the side of your neck; he trailed a set of sloppy, open-mouthed kisses up to your jaw, your cheek, before eventually pressing a bruising kiss to your lips. Your tongue found his, your arms circling around his neck. When Chris broke away, he dropped to lay his forehead on yours. Air rushed from his nostrils in a sigh. Lightning flickered. Fingertips pressed into his shoulder blades, knees bumping gingerly against his hips, you tried bringing him against you. Chris kept hovering, eyes glazed a little and looking through you.
“Chris.”
The sound of his name pulled him from whatever trance he’d fallen into. Chris blinked slowly, and he nuzzled his nose against yours. “Sorry. Thinking.” Chris laid another soft kiss on your lips.
“Dangerous.” The tease in your voice was easier now, some of the tension slipping from your frame. Chris scoffed. He sank down, laying his broad frame over yours. The breath was pushed from your lungs, but you didn’t mind. Silence coiled around you both. You were the one to break it. “Want to talk about it?”
Chris pushed his nose against your chin. His breath was warm as he exhaled. Thunder rolled, quieter now as it retreated. Whatever Chris wanted to say was tucked firmly behind his teeth. “Not yet,” he eventually muttered. It was better than nothing.
“Alright.” Your fingers combed through his hair. He’d tell you in his own time, in his own way. It would have to do.