Page 34 of Codename: Dustoff
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
Icouldn’t bear to see that look in her eyes. It wasn’t pity. Pity I’d become accustomed to. Pity I could write off, close my eyes against, and ignore. Amelia’s eyes overflowed with empathy, and compassion. They felt too warm. Held my insides together in way that I’d not even realized I wanted to be touched. Those feelings were too much to think about or be too close to. Thankfully, before I had time to spin further into my own head, she lifted off the pillows, reached behind her and unclipped her bra, revealing a tantalizing pair of teardrop breasts.
“Oh, Amelia. You’re too beautiful, angel. So, so beautiful.”
My mouth watered in desperation to take greedy pulls from her stiff peaks. To run my thumb along one hard nub, enjoying how much she writhed and moaned while I did. But, rather than dive in, something held me back.
Gently, I ran my tongue from her collarbone, down her clavicle, and around the upswell of her breast.
“Green?” I asked.
“Very green.” She smiled, sighing as she adjusted herself against the pillow. Her fingernails played along my hairline, massaging my scalp and tickling the sensitive skin of my neck. With the green light, I took a nipple into my mouth, rolling around my tongue. She moaned and held my head in place, her hips gyrating of their own accord with each gentle pull against one of her turgid peaks.
“Oh gosh, Emmett. It’s so good.”
I wondered offhand the last time she’d gotten off. Had she touched herself at all since coming home? Or did all of this nerve damage she talked about with her doctor, detract her from self-exploration.
“I want to try something,” I told her, leaning back against my legs. “The first sign of any kind of discomfort, you tell me okay?”
She nodded, biting her lip. Her breath came in rapid pulls, that made her breasts sway in the most tantalizing way. I wanted to dive back in for a second helping, but I needed to know just how far out the line between pleasure and pain was.
“I’m going to put my lips lower. If it gets too intense, tell me.”
“Okay,” she told me on a sigh. Beneath me her thighs relaxed, opening far enough to provide me space to move between them. The satin panties that she’d worn for me, broadcast just how much her body enjoyed every minute of what we’d done so far.
I took her functioning thigh in my hand, resting it on my shoulder. I traced patterns along the skin of her thigh, thoroughly enjoying when her ass launched off the bed as pleasure erupted into her body.
“Still green, angel or are you yellow?”
Her thigh muscle still felt lax in my hand. There was no tension in it at all, which told me she had to still be enjoying it. She sighed my name and told me green seconds later.
I turned and focused my attentions on the other thigh, sticking to the inside, closest to her panty line and staying clear away from the scar tissue. I suckled and nibbled the fleshy part of her inner thigh, getting drunk both on the way she moaned and writhed but also from the scent of her increasing arousal. With no color being announced, and a green from Amelia when I asked her, I explored her satin covered mound. She didn’t appear to have any sensation along her little nub. I ran my nose along her seam, teased it over her panties with my tongue, and there appeared to be no response. Though running my fingers along the inside of her thighs, especially the uninjured one, had her practically orgasmic.
“I want to feel your pussy, angel. Do you have any pain before I touch it?”
She looked me in the eye, a shy smile on her lips, and shook her head in the negative.
I ran my nails up along her lips, tickling into her well-trimmed mound, tracing along her seam.
“Emmett,” she whispered, raising her hips up to meet me.
A pass of my fingertip against her clit yielded no reaction. I continued to explore, watching her face like an intensive study of the Mona Lisa. I looked for any clue to show me that she had any discomfort at all. I pressed into the warm depth of her pussy, and she clamped down on my fingers. It was so fast and so intense, I thought I’d hurt her, but a moment later, tongue between her teeth, she hissed out my name, fucking against those fingers. From within the walls of her entrance, I circled the inside in search of her g-spot. If her clit didn’t have any feeling, I silently hoped her g-spot did. No matter how much I wiggled, pushed, or pulled I couldn’t locate anything that hinted towards her secret little trigger. With each stretch of my fingers though, she keened and spread herself open for me.
“Does that feel good, angel?”
I balanced over her, running my nose along the bridge of her nose before kissing her. The moment our lips touched, a bonfire of lust sent my entire being into another stratosphere. Amelia wrapped her arms around my back, her nails drawing enticing patterns up and down my spine that had my whole circulatory system overloading on pleasure. I rubbed against her warm center, relishing in the sweet friction.
“Color beautiful.”
“Keep going.” Her panted breath tickled against my lips. “I’m still good.”
I was out of my briefs and sheathed in a nanosecond. My fingers teasing beneath her panties one last time before they came off. With every pass through her desire, she’d beg for more. I tried desperately to keep a good, tight rein on my common sense. I wanted to explore Amelia’s body over and over again. Therefore, I couldn’t lose focus.
“Amelia, you still doing okay?” I lined my cock up against her pussy, gritting my teeth against the intense desire to push in.
“Yes, Emmett.” She sighed, and I pushed home. Inch by slow inch.
I drowned in sensation. My whole being shifted in awareness. Sounds were louder, sensations more intense, the room was awash in smells I hadn’t even noticed, like the clean unassuming scent of Amelia’s hair and soap, the subtle lavender scent of the sheets, and the cooking oil I could still smell on my skin.
I was already there. Six pumps and I could feel the tightness, the liquid heat inching its way up, begging for release. I made myself a string of promises that we’d do this more. Maybe even in a few hours if we could recover fast enough. I’d just convinced myself to let get because there was always next time when Amelia shouted, “Yellow! Emmet, please! Yellow. Yellow.”
I pulled out, just as my orgasm broke free, shooting with such ferocity, my eyes and ears lost all access to stimuli for a brief moment, before the greasy tendrils of guilt stole away every last ounce of pleasure.
“Where does it hurt?” I tried to find my bearings. “Tell me, Amelia. Stay with me.”
“Everywhere,” she cried. “I feel like I’m on fire.”
I tried to help her shift against my chest, her back to my front, and cradle her, hold her, whisper things in her ears. Anything to keep her in the here and now, and not slide into a full trigger.
“It’s okay,” I whispered, trying to hold her against me as much as I could, “it’s okay.”