Selena Kitt - The Baumgartners Plus One

I panted and clung to him, digging my heels into the well of his back as if I could drive him in further, take him wholly into me. He moaned and slowed, gasping, “Wait, wait,” in my ear, but I wouldn’t let him go.

“Don’t stop,” I begged, my nails digging into his upper arms as he held himself over me. “Please! Don’t stop!”

His eyes met mine, half-lidded with lust, his mouth slightly open. I whimpered and he dipped his head to kiss me, sucking my tongue into his mouth as he began again, his groan swallowed in the press and roll of our tongues. I planted my feet on the bed and lifted my hips, seeing his eyes roll back as he bottomed out inside of me.

“Harder!” I urged, my fingers seeking my own heat, searching between us for the place where we were joined, slick and hot and wet. I rubbed myself as he fucked me harder, giving me just what I’d asked for, although I knew it was going to cost him everything. His cock twitched inside of me and he rolled, pulling me on top of him and lifting me off the bed with one final thrust.

“Noooo,” I howled, almost there but not quite, feeling him coming, knowing the look on his face, brow knitted, eyes closed tight, his lower lip pulled between his teeth.

“Fuck,” he panted, reaching up and grabbing my breasts, thumbing my nipples. “I couldn’t stop.”

I whimpered, still rubbing myself, and he glanced down, his fingers tracing over my ribs, my belly.

I saw him cringe, seeing the bruises there. “Did I do that?”

“It doesn’t matter.” It did, but I didn’t care, not then. I wanted him in spite of everything.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his hands petting me from my breasts down to my pussy. “I’m so sorry.”

“Mason,” I pleaded, and he knew, he gave me just what I needed, he always had.

I let him pull me up to his face, moaning softly when his mouth settled over my mound.

It wasn’t going to take much, but oh god, it felt so good I didn’t ever want it to stop.

His tongue lapped at me, finding my clit right away, so sensitive and ready. I shuddered, spreading my legs wide and rocking. His hands on my hips moved to steady me and I stilled, letting him do all the work, my pussy on fire. There was no holding it back. I leaned my cheek against the wall behind us-we didn’t have a headboard like

the Baumgartners, we didn’t even have a bed frame, just a boxspring and mattress on the floor-and gave into my orgasm.

“Mason!” I gasped as his tongue fluttered at my clit, sending me flying. He moaned into my pussy as I came, flooding him with my juices, burying his face there for more as if he could drink me in altogether. My knees gave out and I collapsed next to him on the bed, laughing as he kissed me, his face still wet with my cum.

“Come here,” he said, curling around me on the bed, pulling the covers up around us. We were quiet for quite a while and I thought he might be asleep until Jezebel jumped up onto the bed and climbed across Mason’s hip and side, sniffing and twitching him with her whiskers as if to say, “Hello, stranger!”

“So where were you last night?” he asked again, sliding a hand down Jezzie’s back, making her arch. I blushed, watching them over my shoulder and remembering how he could make me do that, just like a cat.

“At the neighbors’.” I flushed even more deeply at the memory of my night at the Baumgartners’. “It was raining so hard, they thought I should stay.”

“I didn’t know you hung out with the neighbors.”

I snorted. “You don’t know a lot of things that happen around here.”

“Touche,” he said softly, not taking the bait.

I turned toward him so we were belly to belly. “What brings you home?”

“Same thing that kept you at the neighbors, I guess.” He stopped petting the cat and started petting me, his hand moving over my shoulder and down my side. “I was on my way back to Darron’s and it was raining so damned hard I could barely see.”

Darron the dungeonmaster. He had an apartment on the edge of campus and they played Dungeons and Dragons there three times a week. Mason and I had argued about how much time he spent there even before Isabella and now he was living in Darron’s basement.

I couldn’t help feeling disappointed. “So you didn’t come home to see me?”

“No,” he replied honestly. “But I’m glad I did.”

That warmed me. “I’m glad too.”

“Hey, I’m hungry,” he said. “What do we have for breakfast?”

“I can make eggs.” The fridge was pretty empty. I didn’t have to do a lot of shopping with Mason gone. He was a big eater, but I could live on Lean Cuisines forever.

“That sounds good. Can I take a shower?” He slipped out of bed, stretching, and I admired the taut flex of the muscles in his back. I really had missed him, in so many ways.

“Go for it. You still have clothes in the closet.” He’d never really moved out completely. He was doing it piecemeal, coming back and taking a few more things with him every time he left.

Mason ran the shower and I got dressed and cooked him eggs-four scrambled.

I even made him toast with extra butter and cut them into fours. I was humming to myself, just putting the ketchup on the table, when he came out wearing a pair of jeans and nothing else.

“Thanks.” He sat at the table across from me, squirting ketchup all over his eggs before digging in while I watched and nibbled my own slice of toast.

“How’s Darron?” I didn’t really want to know but it was somewhere to start conversation.

“Good.” His mouth was half-full. “We’re thinking about starting a new thing that just came out. It’s called Magic the Gathering.”

“Sounds cool.” I had no idea what that meant. I’d never paid much attention to his gaming.

“Right.” Mason snorted, giving me a look that said he knew just how much I cared-or not. “So what classes you got this semester?”

“Advanced Italian, Dante’s Divine Comedy, Senior Honors and Advanced Independent Study.” I rattled them off-my last year’s worth of work before graduation, all paid for by my scholarship. At least that was one thing Mason’s parents didn’t pay for. They’d paid for everything since we got married-our rent, our groceries, Mason’s tuition-but my education was my own.

“Heavy load.” He raised his eyebrows.

“So what do you have this term?” It hurt me to think we were so disconnected now we didn’t know these basic things.

He chewed his eggs and swallowed. “Survey of American Folklore and European History.”

“Are you still majoring in sociology?”

“I switched to general studies.”

The catch-all degree. He’d changed his major six times since we’d started school.

“So did you hear back from that study abroad thing?” He smiled when he picked up a triangle of toast and I knew he was appreciating that I’d remembered.

I stiffened and shook my head, busying myself with my own toast. The “study abroad thing” was my dream. I’d always wanted to go to Europe and, because of my scholarship, I’d been asked to apply to a very competitive program that would allow me do all of my graduate work in Italy. The “study abroad thing” was also the topic of our last argument, the one that got me pushed into the kitchen table as Mason shoved by me on his way out the door. Needless to say, he didn’t want me to go.

“You still set on doing that?” He popped a whole quarter triangle of toast into his mouth, chewing fiercely. I just nodded, not trusting my voice to answer him. “I can’t go to Italy. My parents would have a fit. They’d never allow it.”

Sure. They allowed him to skip school, fail classes and play D amp;D all day, but follow his wife to Italy so she could pursue her dreams? Oh no, never that.