Helen moves around the kitchen, easily finding utensils and glasses. There’s no pressure in her movements, like she’s simply giving me space to share and be, if I want to. And it feels so damn right having her here with me.
“I don’t know where I would be without her,” my voice is soft, reverent in a way my grandmother deserves.
She doesn’t offer platitudes or empty words as I carry the plates over to where glasses of the tea are now waiting. I clear my throat as I set her plate down in front of her and she does a little shimmy as her eyes light up while taking in our dinner.
“Parmesan-crusted pork chops, sweet potato stacks, and asparagus,” I say with a flourish of my hand and a small bow.
Helen claps wildly and gives a little hoot which not only makes me laugh but has warmth spreading through my chest. When she does another little shimmy dance in her chair while I slide into place next to her, I know I’ll never be able to let her go.
I chuckle under my breath and shake my head, “I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone clap for something I’ve cooked before.”
She shoots me an incredulous look. “Well, that’s a shame because this looks amazing. And it smells so good.”
Pride shoots through me and I sit up just a little bit taller. I love the way she’s looking at me, like I’m worth her time and energy.
As we eat, I tell her about my grandmother and what she means to me. Her eyes soften and turn sad as I tell her about losing my parents, but there’s no pity in her eyes. Only understanding, which makes sense considering the loss which reverberates through her life as well.
Her mother might still be alive, but she might as well be considering there’s been no contact for so long. Abandonment has its own type of grief.
We sit at the table talking and laughing long after our plates are empty, our bellies full, and our glasses only contain the melted remnants of ice cubes.
Normally I would need to get the plates cleaned up right away, but right now it’s the last thing on my mind. Helen looks at me, her eyes heavy with sleepiness, comfort, and something else, something much hotter.
I hold my hand out and she slides hers into mine without hesitation. Only once I pull her up to stand does she look down at the table. The way she nibbles at the corner of her lip makes my cock twitch.
“I’ll get them in the morning,” I rasp. “I clean as I cook, there’s not much mess and the plates can stay right here for the night.” I gently pull her toward me, loving the way her soft curves mold against my body. When I reach up and brush her dark hair back away from her face, I almost get lost in her eyes for a moment. “Let me take you to bed, Sweetheart.”
“Please,” she sighs.
Our fingers lace together and she follows behind me with a willingness which only comes from trust. When we walk through the door to my room, the room I hope becomes ours sooner rather than later, our gazes lock and hold.
As I undress her, my voice is filled with awe, “You’re so beautiful, Helen.”
I watch her blush slide along her collarbones, neck, and cheeks. When she’s completely bare, I pull her against my chest, needing to feel her skin. The connection between us crackles the moment we touch and it feels like something being righted again.
After I gently lay her down on my bed, she lets out a soft sigh. I follow her down and start to press open mouth kisses to her shoulder, along her collarbone, and down between the valley of her tits. They’re tempting as fuck, but I’m a man on a mission.
“Rhodes,” Helen whimpers and it’s almost too much.
My hands slide between her thighs and spread them to make room for my shoulders. I’m breathing hard, my nostrils flaring with every exhale.
“Fuck,” I grit out, “you’re sweet pussy is glistening for me.”
“Only for you,” her words are breathless and her hips wiggle as if I need enticing.
I fucking don’t.
When I bury my face between her thighs, her back arches. I slide my tongue along her slit, collecting her arousal on my tongue. The taste of her has a growl rumbling through my chest.
“Oh fuck,” she mewls, her body shuddering at the sensation. “Yes, just like that.”
My lips pull into a smirk against her flesh. As I slide my mouth up and suck her clit into my mouth, I bury two fingers into her tight heat, twisting my hand until I hit just the right spot.
Helen’s toes curl and her thighs start to shake. Fuck, yes. Just what I like to see.
As my teeth scrape across her sensitive clit, she lets out a choked wail and her walls clamp down on my fingers as she’s swept away by her orgasm. It’s fucking sensational to witness. Every time feels like a new revelation.
I crawl up her body, nipping and kissing along her skin. Watching goosebumps pop up while doing it makes me feel like a fucking Viking or something equally plundering. Her brown eyes are blown wide, the gold flecks sparking with the need for more, the craving of it.
