Page 58 of Living with Fire
The longer I’m by myself, the more I realize how tired I am. Maybe Nate was right to stop things tonight so we can both get a good night’s sleep. By the time I’m back in my room and plopped on my bed, my eyelids feel heavy, and I know it’s not because of the alcohol. I may have had more than him—certainly more shots since he declined each of them—but I stopped drinking hours ago.
I start braiding my hair so I can finally crawl between the sheets, my eyes scouring my nightstand for my elastic. I’m two twists through the loose braid when I realize the elastic I used last night is still in the bathroom. Huffing at myself, I debate leaving it. It’ll be a rats nest in the morning, but my eyes want to close.
Future me will hate present me if I don’t do it, so I begrudgingly get up and march to the door, flinging it wide open. And stop with a gasp.
Nate is standing on the other side of the threshold. The sleepiness that threatened me moments ago vanishes when his eyes rake over me, mine doing the same to him. He’s changed into gray sweatpants but hasn’t bothered with the usual t-shirt I see him in at nighttime, standing there with a bare chest instead.
Shit. My body hums from the mere sight of him. I may orgasm from it alone.
In the week I’ve been here, I’ve yet to see him shirtless, and my god, I have been missing out. I knew from that first day the sight would be impressive, but wow, it’s better than I could have imagined.
His broad shoulders were one of the first things I noticed about him, but now I’m seeing all the muscle corded along his traps to his thick neck. It leads my eyes to his chest, which I know is solid because I’ve run into it. But that isn’t even the best part. Those abs. Oh my word, those abs. They call to me. Begging me to kiss all the indents along them, making my mouth go dry. And do not even get me started on the V that his hips make that lead straight down to his groin.
Fuck me. His groin. I suddenly realize how hard he is, his cock tenting his pajama pants. I know he hears my whimper when he shifts towards me, forcing my eyes up to his face. All I see is heat, his chest rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths.
“It would never be my reason either,” he says, his voice gruff and thick with desire.
Then he’s grabbing me by the hips, urging me towards the bed. I’m putty in his hands, going willingly, swiftly. My arm hooks over his shoulder at the same time the door closes with a click, and then my back is hitting the mattress, Nate’s body following me down.
Before I can take a breath, his lips are on mine in a bruising kiss that makes my body tingle from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. It’s frenzied, heated, our tongues grappling for position, taking us right back to where we started in the bar.
My legs part for him to rest between, and I wrap them around his waist, pulling him against me. We groan in unison as his cock presses against my center, giving us both the slightest bit of relief with the friction. Hands seem to be everywhere all at once. Mine at his back, moving over muscle, feeling them contract and relax as he moves above me. He holds himself up by his left forearm which sits near my head, but his right hand is at my breast. Finally. Finally touching me.
Cupping my breast in his hand, he feels the weight of it through my tank top before his thumb runs over a nipple. I gasp into the kiss at the sweet torture, the peak hard and aching in need.
“Need this off,” Nate mutters, breaking the kiss to peel my tank top off me. Hissing in fervor, he pushes up to kneel, his eyes taking me in like he’s a starving man. “So perfect.”
If I ever felt my chest was too small, I’ll never feel that way again after the way he looks at me, eyeing my breasts like they truly are as he describes. I squirm from the intensity of his stare, causing his eyes to dart to my face.
“I love it when you blush,” he says in a deep sensual caress that washes over my skin. “But I think I might find things I love even more tonight.”
Oh. Oh my. My center throbs with a fresh wave of heat, burning me from the inside out, at the promise I see in his eyes. When his fingertips move along my calves, I gasp, goosebumps rising along every inch of skin at the feather-like touch he uses along my sensitive skin.
“Mmm, yeah. Think I’ll find lots of things I might love more,” he murmurs mostly to himself. His fingers move deliberately, his pace making me writhe as he watches me react to his touch. By the time he gets to the bottom of my shorts, I’m out of my mind.
“Nate,” I gasp. “Touch me.”
His eyes dance with amusement. “I am.”
To prove his point, his fingertips press harder into the flesh at the back of my thighs, kneading into my skin, nearly making me come off the bed.
“Nate,” I whine, lifting my hips, searching for more of his touch as he continues to run the pads of his fingers along my bare skin at the bottom of my shorts.
Bringing both of my hands to my breasts, I pinch my nipples, pulling them taut because I need something, anything, to create the pleasure I’m seeking. My eyes roll into the back of my head, and I hear his growl before his hands gently bat mine away. Then he’s over me again, his lips suctioning to one nipple, the other being rolled between his fingers.
“Mine,” he mumbles around the tight peak. “Don’t touch.”
I don’t need to. Not with him now giving me what I want. Need. But I’m glad I did it because hearing him claim me as his makes every bone in my body melt, leaving me in a more aroused state than before.
Shivers race through me as he sucks and licks at my nipple, then moves to the other, giving it the same attention as he did the first. I squirm beneath him, my fingers rooted in his hair, my hips rising into him, desperate for friction.
He knows what I want, and he’s happy to oblige.
A hand slides down my ribcage, eliciting a gasp from me, and he pauses, catching the sound I made. Slowly his head lifts, his eyes glazed with desire, his smile lazy while he runs his fingers over my rib cage again.
I suck in a breath, my body shying away from the touch, but also wanting more. My ribs are so sensitive, always have been, and with him finding one of my erogenous zones so quickly, I know I’m a goner.
“Nate,” I breathe out when he does it again, my hips bucking towards him this time.