I let her set the pace, not wanting to spook her. Uncertainty is clear in the tiny wrinkles in her forehead and the hesitation with which she moves as if holding onto reason, sense, the past... with everything she has.
She has no idea it’s already too late.
That accident forced us across an invisible line, and there’s no turning back. Even if we wanted to.
I don’t want to.
I want her to be mine, body, mind, heart, soul, for the rest of our fucking lives. She’s just taking a little longer to figure it out, and I’ll be ready when she does.
Her lips part on a sigh, and I make my move. If I’m on a limited number of kisses with this woman, I’m going to make each one count. My tongue finds hers, caressing it with confident sweeps, enjoying the moan I pull from her.
“Apollo.” Has my name ever sounded sweeter?
She wants to remind everyone that she’s strong, all the while feeling helpless and weak, broken inside. Every fiber of my being yearns to take care of her, but it’s my place to show her she’s not fragile. I tangle my fingers in her hair, tugging her head back so I can deepen the kiss, and she gasps again.
The kiss is passionate, demanding, toeing the line ofmore,and when we pull apart to catch our breath, I trail my lips and tongue down her neck. She shifts next to me, and I feel her need in my bones curling around my own. Dragging my fingers up her inner thigh and over her toned stomach, I pause at the waist of her pajama pants. She almost cried when we took a pair of scissors to the thighs of some of her pants for easier cast access, but I promised we’d replace them once she was all healed up.
I won’t do anything she doesn’t want me to. She might regret it in the morning, but if I can give her even a moment of bliss, a second of distraction from the tormented past, the painful present, and the murky future, I’ll do it.
“Apollo, please.”
It’s the first and last time my girl will ever beg.
My fingers walk under the band of her pants while my eyes hold hers, locked together in a decision we won’t be able to come back from. Her breath stutters. We both know this is the turning point for our relationship and all that might entail. The thought alone energizes me, spurring me forward, sparks dancing under my fingers as our skin connects.
She has a little hair covering her pussy, but if I was a gambling man I’d say she’s usually bare and hasn’t waxed since the accident. It would make sense with being a ballerina, what with “unsightly” hair poking through the leotard.
She arches her back, tilting her hips toward me on a sigh. But she doesn’t reach for me, she seems content to let me do my thing. And I intend to.
My already straining dick weeps into my dress pants. Fucking hell. A few weeks ago I’d never given a single thought to Edith’s pussy, and now I’m sliding my fingers between her slick folds, enjoying every mewl, every stuttering breath, every connection between us unfolding on her living room floor.
She shivers when my finger sweeps across her clit, and I savor the reaction as my dick gets harder, something I wasn’t sure was possible. Her body is beautifully responsive. Sweat beads on her forehead, her nipples press against her sports bra, and her teeth pin her lip in place like she’s afraid to truly give in to what she’s feeling.
A la mierda eso.Fuck. That.
Picking up speed, I swirl my fingers over her clit, cradling her neck as her head tilts back against the couch cushion. She’s fucking glorious. Perky tits pointing at the ceiling, flushed face, tendrils of hair falling from her hair tie. I might come in my fucking pants.
Holding her gaze with mine, I take my time, selfishly wanting her to see, to really fucking see what I’m feeling as I hold her. She's a fucking goddess, and she’s given me the honor of touching her. I don’t take that lightly. These emotions spinning in my chest aren’t because of the accident. And I’m not wasting my chance to prove to her we have chemistry.
If she doesn’t feel it now, she never will. I’ll figure out a way to respect her choice and remain her friend. But if she is feeling it and she’s fighting it,thatI can help her through. And I’m a patient man. I’ll wait for as long as it takes, even if it takes forever and a day.
Her body jerks, muscles twitching, and she moans. Her nails dig into my forearm, gripping me, hips bucking as she chases her release.
As her eyes roll back in her head, she pants. “Apollo... please, please don’t stop.”
She’s adorable and clearly doesn’t know me as well as she thinks. “Not going to happen,princesa.”
Her lips part like she’s about to talk again, but I’m done waiting for her to get out of her own head. Squeezing her clit between my finger and thumb, I gently twist, and she falls apart.
Watching her orgasm at my hand is the most sensual, sexiest damn thing I’ve ever experienced. Her features are serene, a sheen of sweat covers her face and chest, and her limbs soften as she starts to come down. But I’m not done, and from the hungry look in my girl’s eyes, neither is she.
Dropping my face to hers, I kiss her over and over, nipping at her lips and exploring every inch of her mouth before I move lower. The more my lips travel over her skin, the more she reacts to me. Panting, her skin pinking. After a long moment with my teeth grazing her nipples through the fabric, she tugs up her sports bra with her cast-free hand, giving me access.
Soy un hombre afortunado.A very lucky man. It’s like all my Christmases came at once. Sucking one of her pert nipples into my mouth, I skim my teeth over the hard peak. She shivers before hissing out a long breath. Something hard butts into me from behind and my teeth slip, sinking into the supple flesh of her breast.
She gasps as I unlatch, then giggles. A soft grunt behind me suggests I’ve been cockblocked by a potbellied pig, but the smile on her face is hard to be mad at.
“Maybe he’s hungry?”
