“So this isn’t about feeling bad and wanting to make up for things that happened in the beginning? Or trying to make sure I’m happy so I don’t run away again?”
He doesn’t answer right away. He has to think about it. I don’t know if I like that or not. “No,” he decides, getting up on his knees the way I have. “It’s not about that. You weren’t given much of a chance.”
Something almost tender passes over his handsome face. I’m not used to seeing it, the way he softens. “Somebody needs to give you a chance. Why can’t it be me?”
I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to think. I keep waiting for him to smirk or scoff, but he doesn’t do either of those things. It’s almost like he means it.
Something swells in my chest when he reaches out, taking hold of my waist, pulling me closer. I can hardly breathe—he’s so overwhelming. His presence, his strength, the way he’s not backing down. I want to close my eyes and hide from it.
“Don’t look away,” he orders when I try to do that. “Open your eyes and look at me.”
It’s so hard, because I’m not just looking at him. I’m looking at everything I see in his eyes that I shouldn’t see. It’s dangerous. I still don’t know if I can believe him.
His kiss is slow, deep, tantalizing. He covers my mouth, claiming it, and all I can do is melt. It’s all I want to do. Enough thinking. I want to feel, and he knows how to make me do that. His hands work under my T-shirt, and raise it up until I lift myarms. He breaks the kiss only long enough to pull the shirt over my hands and toss it aside.
Then he’s on me again, stealing my breath, sliding his tongue against mine until I whimper when it gets to be too much. My body is on fire, the flames licking my skin where his hands stroke and caress. He cups my ass, hauling me in even closer, so I’m pressed against his cock. Maybe it’s everything we’ve been through together, but I can’t resist sliding a hand between us to cup him there.
His body goes rigid while a growl rumbles in his throat. “Fuck,” he groans before kissing his way down my throat. My head falls back and my free hand grips the back of his head while I stroke him below the belt. His low groans are hotter than anything he could do to me with his hands or his mouth. Until now, I’ve been weak for him. Helpless against what he does to me.
Now, it’s my turn to make him weak.
I don’t even know what I’m doing, letting instinct take over. He watches while I undo his belt and open the slacks. He pulls in a ragged breath as I lower his zipper. “Lie down,” I whisper. He does as he’s told, helping me strip him down before he settles back.
I don’t know who I am, finding the courage to straddle his thighs. He’s rigid, his wide head swollen and purple. The tip glistens as I wrap my fingers around his shaft.
“Put your mouth on me,” he begs in a ragged whisper. I will, but not yet. First, I stroke him slowly, watching his head fall back and his mouth fall open. “Fuck…”
This is different. It’s sort of fun. Holding him in my hand, deciding whether or not he’s going to feel good. Slowly, I lower my head, my tongue extended. And he watches, holding his breath. Our eyes lock and something passes between us. Something I can’t name, but I like the feeling of.
My tongue touches the underside of his head and his back arches. “Oh, yes, lick it,” he whispers. One of his hands finds the back of my head and massages my scalp. “Do it. Put it in your mouth.”
“Do you want me to suck it?” Oh, my God, who am I?
“Yeah. Suck it.” He even lifts his hips, like he’s trying to get it there quicker.
He sucks in a gasp when I let him past my lips. I run my tongue along his length as I take more and more of him, easing him a little deeper, a little deeper, until he hits the back of my throat.
There is something exciting about teasing him, letting his salty musk fill my nose as I move my head up and down in a slow, sensual rhythm that he obviously loves. “Just like that. Fuck, yeah, keep going,” he urges, working his hips, pumping in and out. But I’m in control, and I make sure he knows it by lifting my head and letting his glistening length slap against his belly.
His eyes open in confusion. “Why’d you stop?”
“Because I felt like it.” Reaching behind me, I unhook my bra, then toss it aside. I then roll away from him to pull off my leggings and thong. “Why should you have all the fun?”
“What has gotten into you?”
That’s the thing. I don’t know. I feel free, maybe that’s it. He unlocked something in me. This is the closest to freedom I’ve ever known in my whole life.
“Are you complaining?” I get back up on my knees and straddle him again, this time around his hips.
“Absolutely not.” He watches as I raise myself over him, then guide him to where I’m slippery and hot. The first second where he stretches me makes me bite my lip, but it’s good. It’s so good. The feeling of being filled inch by inch as I sink lower. Finally I settle at his base and close my eyes, focusing on the sensation.
“Find the angle you want,” he murmurs, running his hands up my thighs, taking hold of my hips. “Do what feels best. Show me how you like it.”
It’s a little intimidating, like I have a spotlight on me, but I find my rhythm and groan when I start to move. He’s right, there are different angles that feel better than others. When I lean forward with my hands braced against his chest, his head hits something inside me that makes me shiver.
“There you go.” He sounds like he’s in heaven. “That’s it. Now make yourself come. Make yourself come on my cock.”
I don’t think I have a choice. It’s all happening so fast, coming up on me all at once. The feeling of him inside me. The bolts of pleasure that race through me every time I grind against his base. His groans, his moans, his breathing getting faster and faster, just like mine.
