Yeah, I’m a dick, but no woman ever made me face it before.
Nadine is different.
What I feel for her is different.
I care about her. I care about her happiness and safety. I don’t want to disappoint her, and I especially don’t want to ruin the good thing we have going.
So all my fantasies about fucking her without a condom and making a mess of her stay inside my brain, let out only when I’m alone with my hand.
The knowledge that she’s asleep in my home makes my blood pump even faster, and I reach for the lube in my bedside table. I barely have my pants and underwear pushed down before my erection is in my hand.
I hiss at the first touch of the cool gel then unconsciously thrust into my fist, envisioning her naked and laid out for me. Pushing those thighs of hers apart. Knees up toward her chest.
Or maybe sliding into her from behind. Her ass up. Jiggling with every push. My fingers digging into her soft hips.
I’d make sure she liked it. Make sure she was begging for it. For me. For my cock.
Hear my name from her lips. Those winter eyes heavy with lust.
Yeah, she’d love it.
I grunt, closing my eyes, leaning over my bed, hand on the mattress, thinking of what it would be like to sink between her legs. Going down on a woman has never been on my list of needs in bed and none of them has ever complained about my not doing it, but it isnecessaryto put my mouth on Nadine.
Learn what she tastes like. If her pussy is as delicious as the biting words that fall from her lips. I know once I have it, I’ll never want to give it up. I think I might like to live down therewith her thighs permanently attached to either side of my head.
I’d make her so wet from my mouth that I would slide right in.
Squeezing my fist tighter, I fuck harder, gritting my teeth, imagining the sweet clench of her. It would be so good I’d have to focus on not finishing too fast.
Because the tensing of her muscles as she wraps her legs around me would be heaven. Her skin flushed and damp. Hair a mess from my fingers. Nipples tight little beads that I nibble on until she’s bucking up into me.
“You like that?” I mumble to an empty room, though my mind is nothing but Nadine. Her familiar scent and the quirk of her mouth, the arch of her brow when she throws attitude my way.
That’s when I come, giving in to that perfect mix of sweet and sour, because I don’t want one without the other. I need her giving heart and her sharp tongue. I want her kindness and her ferocity. She is both tender and strong, yet unwilling to concede when she knows she’s right.
Which is almost all the time.
Because she is right about me. I am a jealous, demanding, conceited asshole.
And when I finally come, spilling inside her, I will stay there until it seeps out between us. Only then would I slip out of her, except I won’t clean her up. No, I’ll use my fingers to push it back into her. Paint her thighs with it. Write my name across her skin. Then I’d have her lick it off my fingers, tasting all that I left inside her.
Because she is mine.
Even if I don’t deserve her.
Even if I don’t deserve to touch her, let alone live out any of my depraved fantasies.
I’ve spent too many years being a person she hates. And that’s what makes it worse, thinking that my whole trajectoryand life might be different if that night at the Ritz had gone differently. If she hadn’t overheard one stupid goddamn conversation. If I’d kept my mouth shut or walked away. If she hadn’t made assumptions about herself or what I thought of her.
If, if, if…
Maybe she’d be with me right now, smiling up at me with some smart remark, instead of me alone in my bedroom, cleaning up my orgasm from my hand.
In another timeline, in another universe, she would’ve fallen in love with me that night. It would’ve been the start of our life together. I’d have found something to keep myself anchored to instead of floating off into space, hoping to fill it up with fame and money.
In another timeline, in another universe, Nadine Rivera thinks I am perfect.
Perfect for her.
