Page 85 of Worth the Fall
“I’ve only been in Clara’s room. I don’t even know where yours is,” she said, and I picked her up, holding her tight as I carried her into my sanctuary.
I placed her on the top of my bed and stared at her, lying there, until she started squirming under the weight of it.
How many times had I imagined this scene? How many times had I wished she were in this exact position? Too many to count.
“Thomas, you can’t look at me like that.” She was uncomfortable.
“Like what? Like I’m about to take my time and get to know every inch of your body? Or like you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and I can’t believe you’re really here?”
She grabbed a pillow and held it over her face as she said something, but it was too muffled to make out. I climbed onto the bed and straddled her, removing the pillow slowly as I leaned down to press a kiss to her lips.
“I’ve dreamed about the things I want to do to this body. The way I want to make you feel. I haven’t wanted anyone in so long, Brooklyn, but I can’t seem to stop wanting you.”
Confessions.
I’d give them all to her if she asked.
“I’ve dreamed about this moment too.” She sucked in her bottom lip, as if the admittance embarrassed her.
This softer side of Brooklyn was fucking adorable. She was typically so mouthy and sarcastic.
“We cross this line, and we’re together. We’re dating. You’re not single anymore. Are you sure you’re okay with that?” I readjusted my body to take some of my weight off of her.
I knew that I was basically asking what I’d already asked her at my dad’s house, just in another way, but my insecurities had shit timing sometimes.
“I’m all in,” she said sweetly, and it was everything I needed.
I started kissing her again, my hands roving the curves of her body.
Breaking the kiss, I rolled over and made my way down toward her feet, where her shoes still remained. I slid her shoes off, one by one, before peeling off the socks underneath. Pink toenails greeted me, and my hands gently started to rub each foot, applying pressure in all the right places. She moaned, and her mouth dropped open.
“Oh my God. That feels amazing,” she said breathlessly.
I wondered if that dickhead ex-husband of hers had ever given her a massage before. I’d decided that he was way too selfish to think about pleasing her and went back to work.
I kissed the top of her foot as I applied pressure in long strokes before rubbing in small circles. When I tried to move my hands higher and get underneath her jeans, I found them unforgiving.
“Off,” I said as I attempted to undo the button and lower the zipper.
I’d need her help to get her out of them anyway. She shimmied and wiggled as I tugged them off, my breath catching when I caught sight of her black lace panties and the shape of her thighs.
“You’re a goddess,” I complimented, and the red in her cheeks deepened.
“You kind of make me feel like one.”
“Good.”
Roaming back to her calves, I alternated between massaging them and kissing her bare skin. She smelled like vanilla, but tasted like heaven. I tried so damn hard to stay down there and continue giving her pleasure with my hands, but all I could focus on was her black lace panties and what I knew was waiting underneath.
My fingers crept up the length of her leg and brushed along her inner thigh. Her hips bucked involuntarily, and I watched as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. When I touched the outside of her panties, her mouth instantly opened, and her breath started hitching as she refocused on me.
Sliding them to the side, I caressed her clit before slipping a single finger inside. She was so fucking wet. Pulling my finger out, I put it in my mouth, tasting her. She gasped at what I’d done, but I was already diving in, headfirst, ready for more.
I settled between her thighs, her panties still pulled to one side as I tried my damn best to tear them right off. My tongue hit her pussy, and we both moaned at the same time. Her hands reached for my head, her fingers holding me in place. As if I planned on leaving. I was about to feast on this woman until she came on my tongue.
“You taste amazing,” I breathed out hot against her clit as my tongue lapped up her sweet juices in long, slow, deliberate strides.
“My God, Thomas. Just like that. Don’t stop,” she begged, her fingers squeezing even harder against my skull.