Page 59 of Living with Fire
The curve of his lips deepens. He does it one more time before deciding I’ve had enough. For now at least. Lowering his head back to my breast his hand continues its descent over my waist to the band of my shorts. When he doesn’t find any panties underneath, his teeth tug at my nipple as he looks up at me with approval before cupping me with his palm.
Releasing a quivering breath, I push my hips up, silently begging him to give me more, and he does, slowly sliding a finger through my slit.
It’s his turn to gasp, his lips popping off me, eyes widening as they dart down between us.
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, sitting back up. I’m blushing hard as he grabs the waistband of my shorts and yanks them down to my knees, leaving me bare for him to see. “Fuck. You’re soaked.” I watch him as he looks back to me, desire flaring in his eyes. “You’re soaked and you’re blushing. For me.”
“All for you,” I tell him, spreading my legs wider, moving my hands down my ribcage and over my stomach as if to entice him to stop staring and start touching.
It works. He makes quick work of my shorts, and then both of his hands start at my knees and make their way up the insides of my thighs until they reach my center. I cry out as he spreads my lips apart with his thumbs and feasts his eyes on my clit, running one thumb around it. It feels so good, I could practically come just from that simple touch.
He shifts on the bed, and then his face is between my legs, his mouth covering my clit, sucking with a gentleness I want no part of. Passion, heat, hardness. Those are the things I want right now. Crying out, my hips lift off the bed towards his face, and he groans, then sucks harder, giving me what I want. My fingers plunge into his chocolate brown hair, and my head presses roughly into the mattress when I feel a finger at my entrance.
“Yes,” I moan, my eyes rolling into my head as he pushes inside of me with such slowness I think I may die before he fills me. He releases me from his mouth then, and I cry out in frustration, but he flicks my clit with his tongue as his finger slides as deep as it can go.
I want to scream at him. I want to moan for him. I want to combust into a million flames. He gives me one thing I want only to take away another. It’s delicious, and frustrating, and I don’t know if I should laugh or cry.
His tongue skims over my clit again. This time my hips are off the bed, and he takes the opportunity to put his free arm beneath me to keep them lifted. When he adds a second finger and covers me with his mouth again, pulling hard on my clit while his fingers work in and out, curling perfectly, I can’t handle it anymore. I fall apart, my orgasm hitting me so hard I can’t think with the pleasure coursing through every inch of my body.
He keeps at me until my thighs are forcing themselves shut, my body unable to handle any more of his ministrations. While he removes his fingers from inside of me to use his hand to open my legs again, he continues to lap gently at me, licking up every drop of pleasure I have to give him.
I’m still panting by the time he lifts his head and slowly ascends my body, a goofy grin on his face. He looks like he’s had as big of an orgasm as I have, but I know that’s not true given that I can feel his erection now pressing against my center.
“I definitely loved that,” he says, making me laugh. “I also really love how fucking wet you are.” His eyes shift downward for a moment, and I swear he’d bite his fist if he weren’t using both hands to prop himself up. “Jesus, I didn’t know a woman could get that wet.”
“What do you expect when I’ve been in a constant state of arousal all week?” I ask. If I’d confessed this prior to his face between my legs, I may have blushed, but post-orgasm, I own it.
His eyebrows lift. “All week?”
“Give or take,” I laugh softly, reaching a hand to his face, running it over the stubble on his jaw before my fingers move into his hair. “Pretty much any time you’ve touched or looked at me.”
“Christ,” he mutters, dropping his forehead to my shoulder.
His hips shift, pressing himself more firmly against me, letting me feel his length, which makes me groan. I can tell just by the few glances I’ve had, and now this, that he’s well endowed.
“Can I make a confession?” he asks, lifting his head.
With a distracted nod, I slide my legs up his body, moving my feet around to his backside to pull him even closer. He’s nestled right against my slit, his pajama pants separating us, and I rock my hips gently beneath him, but he’s quick to stop me.
His voice is strained when he says, “Sav, wait.”
My heart drops. While I feel a million times better than I did before he gave me that mind blowing orgasm, I want him inside of me, fucking me until he’s reaching his own amazing orgasm. I want him to feel this good. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong,” he says, pushing a piece of hair from my face while giving me a tentative smile that says the contrary. “It’s just… been a while. I don’t want this to suck for you, but I can’t promise it’s going to last long. I’m a little amped up.”
“Oh.” Not what I was expecting. It’s so, so much better. I bite down on my lip, debate for one second about the question on my mind, and decide he makes me feel brave enough to ask, “Well, if it doesn’t last long, can we do it again? Or is this a once a night kind of deal?”
Nate barks out a laugh and leans down to kiss me thoroughly. “We can do it as many times as you want,” he murmurs, his hips lifting away from mine.
My hands are at his hips in an instant, helping him with his sweatpants. Then we’re nothing but skin on skin, his lips gently caressing mine in a long, languid kiss. There’s a crinkle next to my head where one of his hands is resting, keeping his body weight slightly off mine.
A condom. A man prepared.
Butterflies rush through my belly. He’d come back here knowing where this would go. Had made the decision that he wanted it. Made the decision he wanted me. Despite everything I’d told him tonight, he still wanted me.
Until this moment, until realizing that he made a choice to come back here with a condom ready, I don’t know if I truly believed that he wanted me. On some level, sure. The attraction had always been there between us. But I know if I’d been left alone with my thoughts long enough, I would have convinced myself that I’d screwed everything up by telling him the truth. Relief in having someone share my secret or not, I would have been terrified to face him by morning.
His lips break away as he lifts himself, the crinkling getting louder as he tears open the condom wrapper. Even though it’s been a while, he’s covered quickly and then back on top of me, kissing me again like he never left.