Marking Melody by R.E. Butler Page A

and crooked a finger at her.  She sat up and went to her knees with a smile.  “I want to taste you, baby,” he said, his voice rough with need.
    He didn’t have to ask her twice.  She moved up the bed and kissed him once and then used the headboard for balance as she knelt on either side of his face.  He could see her arousal glistening on her pussy.  He glanced up at her, and she had folded her arms on the top of the headboard and rested her forehead on them.  Their eyes met and held.  He stroked his tongue lightly up her pussy, and she let out a soft sound.  The sweet taste of her overwhelmed him, and he closed his eyes, cupped her bottom with both hands and buried his tongue inside her.
    She moaned loudly, and her hips flexed against his mouth as he wiggled his tongue as deeply into her as he could.  He speared her over and over, her moans of pleasure spurring him on.  Her legs began to tremble, and the headboard creaked as she pushed against it, riding his tongue and grinding her sweet pussy on his mouth.  Knowing he could hardly take any more himself, he angled her and sucked her clit hard and fast and she exploded, screaming his name as she shook in the throes of passion.
    His hands gripped the soft cheeks of her ass and held her to his mouth as he feasted on her pussy until she said his name with a trembling breath.  Her hand fisted in his hair and she moaned, “Tristan, that feels so good.”
    He purred and lapped at her, feeling the loss of her body as she eased herself downward.  He kissed his way up her abdomen and she rose up above him, her face glowing with happiness.  He was hard and ready for her, and she kissed his forehead and both eyelids, the tip of his nose, and then his mouth as her hand skimmed between them and clutched his cock.  Her hot, wet pussy eased down his cock, and his eyes rolled back in his head.  Nothing had ever felt as perfect as the way her body gripped him, and the sleek heat of the pleasure he’d given her.  With a moaning sigh, she straightened as she settled on him completely until their bodies were as tightly wed as possible.  Her hands flattened on his chest as she leaned forward and began to move on him.  He put his hands on her thighs and lifted his hips to meet her.
    He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from coming immediately as she rode him, and the pain barely registered through the sheer pleasure that coursed through him.  She gripped one of his hands, shifting her body slightly until she was grinding against him.
    “Tristan, Tristan,” she chanted with a whimpering tone, her voice breathy and laced with need.
    Spreading his legs, he bent his knees to give himself leverage and gripped her hip with one hand, drawing her into him and keeping his body pressed tightly to hers as she rubbed herself against him.  Her pussy gripped him tightly, squeezing and squeezing until he was sure he would die from the bliss.
    Just as he couldn’t handle one more tight squeeze from her pussy without coming, she cried out his name, and her pussy rippled around him.  He came hard, snarling her name and grabbing her hips and pressing her onto his cock as he thrust up hard and fast and spilled inside her.
    He caught her in his arms as she fell forward and cradled her into his chest.  Kissing her forehead, he wrapped his arms around her tighter as she lay sprawled over top of him.  He wanted to say something profound and perfect, but their hearts were beating fast and their panting breaths filled the air, and he thought that was more perfect than anything his muddle brain could create.
     
     

 
     
     
    Chapter 9
     
     
    Wyked splashed cold water on his face from the sink in the tiny bathroom of the camper he and Fate shared with their parents.  He hadn’t slept for shit since Jilly had blazed into their lives and then stormed out within a matter of hours.  Days had passed.  Too many days.  Saturday loomed ahead of him.  The morning sun shone; puffy clouds