Eternally North

by Tillie Cole

  He shifted away from me to walk out of the door, reaching for his car keys and mobile phone on the bookcase.

  I went after him in a last-ditch attempt to salvage the situation, tugging on his arm, twisting him around. “Tudor, please, let’s just go out as planned, we can do this, we can be friends without all the weirdness… Just try, for me, please.”

  He stilled and ran a finger down my cheek, eyes tinged with sadness, simply shaking his head: no.

  My head fell onto his chest, and I relented and let go of his arm. He leaned forward and kissed my head softly; I could see he didn’t want to leave but he was forcing himself to go.

  He walked quickly to the door and simply bowed his head once as a goodbye. I opened it unwillingly, and he left without even glancing back. I watched him disappear around the corner to the elevator and then shut the door.

  I slowly released the handle and placed my head against the cold, hard wood. I guessed he was really trying, giving us the space to be friends without the drama, but should it be like this? Should it be this difficult?

  I eventually peeled myself away from the frame and began to shuffle back into the living room, resigning myself to a chill-out day after all and trying to remember if I had stocked up on enough Ben and Jerry's ice-cream.

  I had only just reached the couch when there was a hard, continuous knock at the door.

  Who the hell could that be now?

  I reluctantly pulled on the handle, feeling exhausted at Tudor’s sudden departure drama, and stepped back in shock when over the threshold was the man himself. There he stood, like Adonis himself; eyes shining, body tense, strong, determined jaw, and hands braced on the door frame, tension pulsing from his strained muscles.

  “Tudor, what the–?” I began to ask.

  He was fast. He leapt forward, startling me.

  “Fuck it!” he growled as he cupped my face in his strong hands, pulled me to his chest and smashed his lips down onto mine.

  CHAPTER 18

  Bloody hell! What took you so long!

  Tudor’s massive frame pushed me back into the condo, devouring my lips. I heard the front door slam shut and I was pressed hard against the hallway wall. He moved his hand from my cheeks and roughly into my hair, moaning as his tongue sought entrance into my mouth. I was stunned…

  He tasted delicious; all mint and sweet and mmm... I knew it would be like this.

  Wait!

  I moved my head to the side, breaking the kiss and breathing hard. He didn’t stop. He began feathering kisses across my burning cheeks, creating a path to my neck, licking and nipping at my jaw line.

  “Tudor, wait–" I whispered breathlessly.

  He didn’t.

  His hands began to roam freely, his lips still fixed to my skin. His palms traced a line from my hair, skirting over my face, down to my shoulders, where they pushed the material of my shirt to the side, exposing my collar bone and the top curves of my breasts.

  "You taste so good, Sunshine... I knew you would… but, God…"

  His hands resumed their journey down to my chest, skimming teasingly down my side, stopping when they reached my hips. He growled aggressively and jerked them forward to rest against his pelvis before his hands drifted backwards, grasping my backside, his wet kisses burning a trail across my exposed throat.

  I squirmed underneath his strong hold and heard a high pitched moan – loud, passion-filled and more than a bit X-rated. On realising it had come from me, I came to my senses, braced my hands on his chest and pushed him back.

  We are going too fast. Sheesh, calm down Tash, you are NOT the Geordie version of Linda Lovelace!

  “Tudor, wait… wait!” My body cried out in protest.

  He stilled, his head resting in between the crook of my neck and shoulder, the unexpected pause causing him to exhale a low, frustrated grunt. My hands gripped his arms to steady my off-set balance, and we remained that way for several seconds, trying to catch our breath.

  He lifted his head and pressed his forehead against mine, hands once again firmly on my face and his lips pressing light butterfly caresses against my swollen mouth.

  My hands, in the meantime, of their own accord, were drawing circles on his enormous biceps. “Tudor, what’s happening?” I murmured against his busy mouth.

  He lingered on a kiss and reared back an inch so he could peer into my eyes. “I want you, Sunshine… God… please… don’t ask me stop now…” he closed his eyes tightly.

  “I thought you wanted to be just friends?” I managed to say, gliding my hands up to run over his closely-shaved hair, causing him to roll his eyes and expel a guttural groan.

  He opened his eyes and shook his head. “No, Tash, we have never been just friends. Can never be just friends. I know you feel the same way. I’ve wanted you for so long, fought it with everything I had… I had to protect you… but, I can’t fight it anymore, can’t be without you for one more day. Please, just make me yours. I need you, Tash, so much.”

  He crushed his lips down possessively on mine, and I melted against his mouth, letting our tongues find each other. He stopped and breathed harshly through his nose, his hands gliding down my back. “Say yes. Let me have you.”

  I couldn’t fight it anymore either. I’d wanted this man, this… situation for too long. Forget the Carpe Diem attitude, I just wanted him, all of him, in any way possible. I couldn’t speak, so I simply nodded, giving him the permission he so desperately sought.

  With that, he didn’t waste any time. His hands dropped to my behind, hitching me up off the floor to sit astride his hips. He carried me straight to the bedroom, his hands slipping under the legs of my shorts, my teeth nibbling his ear and jaw, causing him to growl.

  This feeling was all very new and impossibly sexy. I had never had anyone tell me they needed me, wanted me, and I had certainly never had anyone carry me to my bedroom before. At that moment, I was friggin’ Debra Winger in An Officer and a Gentleman – love lift me up where I belong!

  Tudor lowered me on to the bed, pulled me to the centre and crawled on top of me, diving back into a kiss, gripping chunks of my hair in his fists. Without stopping for breath, he began moving south, his tongue and gaze running down my exposed throat, over my concealed chest and stomach, causing me to jerk and tremble. He lifted himself off the bed, running his palms along my outer thighs and calves until he was standing, staring down at my laid-out body.

  Without slipping from my gaze, he began to lick his lips seductively. His breathing was laboured and rough, his nostrils flared and shivers visibly racked his body. He quickly shucked off his boots, and I watched, captivated, as his hands grasped the hem of his shirt and brought it up and over his head. He was totally silent, and it was the sexist thing I’d seen in my life.

  For an unknown reason, I could feel the urge to shout ‘Whoomp, there it is!’ bubbling up inside me, but thankfully, I assessed that it may have killed the mood somewhat if I did.

  I was officially now in the most erotically-charged moment of my life. It’s funny, I used to think those steamy sex scenes in my mother’s Mills and Boon novels she hid under the stairs were full of shit, but phrases such as ‘throbbing member’ , ‘ramming home hard’ and ‘thick pulsating length’ kind of sprang to my mind when faced with this fine specimen of a man. Hell, screw it, this could be a one-shot kind of deal, so I resolved to throw caution to the wind and go with the wanton wench vibe that this situation called for!

  I re-focused and saw that the T-shirt was now off. Tudor’s bronzed, bulging chest and sculpted stomach were almost fully covered in dark tattoos that wrapped around the full length of his left arm, climbing up onto his huge corded traps and his thick, muscular neck.

  Jesus, he was perfect.

  I shook my head once to gather my composure, biting my lip and clenching the bed sheets in my fists. He pulled a knowing Tudor-smirk, and I whimpered loudly, needing him to hurry.

  He reached for his belt and began undoing the buckle slowly, eve
ntually letting the leather strap fall to the floor with a thud. His fingers dusted over the top button of his jeans, snapping it open and dragging down the zip, causing the waistline to drop low on his hips, showcasing the defined V-line of his lower torso and exposing the thin patch of hair leading south of the waistband of his jeans.

  "Tash, you need stop looking at me that way or I'm gonna lose it. I'm barely holding it together as it is," he announced through gritted teeth.

  I pinched myself on the arm to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. As I was twisting the skin on my upper arm, I peeked up to see Tudor frozen in place with a confused look on his face. I rubbed at the red mark, trying to soothe the sting.

  “Ms. Munro, are you into the kinky stuff?”

  “What? No! I was just making sure all of this was real.”

  He smiled tenderly. “And what’s the verdict?”

  “Yep, we’re definitely here. Now, carry on, man-slave, and strip!”

  He raised his hands high to rub over his face and head, causing his biceps to flex with the movement. “Are you ever serious? I’m pulling out all my best moves here.”

  I nodded enthusiastically. “I’m as serious as a heart attack, now lose the damn pants, and seize and ravish this fair and innocent maiden!”

  "Tash…" he warned, stilling my breath and smart-ass remarks as he lowered his hands to the waistband of his jeans.

  I gasped loudly and practically swallowed my tongue. No underwear - hello, Mr. Commando!

  I couldn’t look away, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of being completely inexperienced and way out of my depth at what I was facing.

  At all I was facing.

  He raised an eyebrow and huffed in amusement. “What, no sassy retorts now, Ms. Munro?” as his extra-long battering ram practically hit the floor to complement his jibe.

  I swallowed audibly and shook my head.

  Holy mother of sphincters! I need a vodka. That or a bucket load of Vaseline! Yikes!

  Tudor lifted his deliciously large legs one at a time, losing his jeans completely, and looking all perfect, excited and very naked. His inkings continued to his lower hip, his freakishly bulky thighs, the defined calf on his left-hand side, and were mirrored on his back – my God, his entire left side, front and back, was covered in the most knicker-tingling tattoo I had ever seen.

  Ding! Put a fork in me, I’m done. Is it possible to orgasm without any touching?!

  "Now you," he commanded, tipping his chin, no longer playing games.

  In a moment of sheer panic, I lost all confidence. What the hell did someone who looked like him and who was as… equipped as him, want with me – a dumpy little Geordie? He was the definition of hot male ruggedness and I was anything but – all lumps, bumps and imperfections.

  He read my expression. "What's wrong?" he questioned, worry etched on his brow.

  I lifted my hands to my face to cover and hide, and pulled my knees up to my stomach, making myself small. I rubbed my eyes, trying to not be freaked out by this highly daunting situation.

  I was in the process of having sex with a movie star! That doesn’t happen to girls like me, surely? I was so out of my depth – throw me a frickin’ life ring!

  The bed dipped and large hands began creeping up the mattress on either side of my tension-ridden body. I could feel him above me, his body hovering just above mine, completely in control.

  "Let me in," he demanded.

  He reached down to my clamped-shut knees and pulled them apart, gently lowering himself down, his very naked body flush against my clothed one, and he forced my cupped hands gently aside exposing my terrified expression.

  "Baby, no..." he murmured, leaning in, kissing the end of my nose and then drifting down to my mouth, brushing back my hair with his hand.

  He lowered his eyes and whispered, “You are beautiful. Believe me, Sunshine. You're absolutely fucking incredible! I want you more than anything."

  I let out a huge sigh and stared back, wanting to believe him, needing to, trying to break down years of insecurities in a matter of minutes.

  He kissed the flushed apples of my cheeks and murmured. “I’ve never wanted anyone, no, anything more than you in my entire life. You have to believe me.”

  I smiled and blushed, hearing the sincerity in his words. I took his face in my grasp and delved into a searing kiss, causing him to chuckle against my lips.

  “There she is, my kinky little minx.”

  I giggled back and realised at that moment that I could do this forever. How could I kiss anyone else ever again? How could I be with anyone ever again? You don't try filet mignon and then live the rest of your life eating Spam. My movie-star moment was going to ruin me for all others.

  Tudor pulled back and clutched my hands in his. He brought each one to his lips and sat back, forcing me up on my knees. He took my hands and laid them on his broad chest, encouraging me to explore.

  I broke our mutual gaze and watched carefully as my hands traced the pattern of his intricate black tattoo over his pecs and down his arms. I smiled as his skin jumped and bumped with the tickle of my fingertips as they smoothed over his tense tendons and veins.

  Tudor stood still, studying me and worked on controlling his breathing. I brought my forefinger back to his chest and followed the swirls down and down, round and round, kissing his skin in the wake of my touch. I reached his hip, the muscled V-line, my new favourite part of him, and he groaned, throwing back his head in raw pleasure.

  I looked up, withdrawing my hand, feeling empowered at the effect my simple touch had on this man. “Wow,” I whispered, studying my finger, “I didn’t realise this was such a powerful tool.”

  In a heartbeat his lips were back on mine, his hands on my shirt, ripping off every button. "I need to see you. All of you, naked… now."

  I broke from the kiss when he popped the last button, and bit my lip with nerves.

  He smiled and pulled at my chin to release it, licking along the seam of my mouth with his tongue, slid my shirt off and tossed it to the floor. His eyes tore away from mine and cast down. With an impatient sigh, he pulled on my bra straps and reached behind and snapped the back with one hand, the material dropping off my body, leaving me fully exposed to his hungry gaze.

  "Shit… Tash, you're killing me!" he groaned as if in pain.

  I giggled. “I know, I know. I have a cracking set of knockers! 34FF, baby - au naturale!”

  A strong arm pushed me back on the bed, and he wasted no time in pressing his hands and lips across my ample bust, my nipples tightening in response. "Can you feel how much I want you, Tash... tell me you want me too... Say it!" he growled.

  Hel-lo Tiger!

  "Yes! Yes! I want you, I want you..."

  Come on, Tash! You can do better than that. Erotica it up. He’s a cowboy, you’re the shy stable girl. No – he’s a pirate, you’re a wench! Mmm… I like that… Shiver me timbers!

  I was in heaven, his lips were soft and the noises of satisfaction coming from my movie star were the biggest turn-on ever. Everything was perfect, better than any fantasy I could concoct in my head. At that moment I felt… beautiful.

  His right hand ghosted south, while his mouth devoured up top. He was headed for my stomach, which caused me to panic and cover it with my hands. My stomach was my least favourite area, slightly rounded and marked through years of weight problems and intrusive surgeries.

  Sensing my reluctance, Tudor lifted his head, halting his exploration. He pushed back a strand of my hair, tucking it behind my ear. "You're beautiful. Every part of you."

  "No, not there I'm not, my stomach is horrible, it's not flat, it’s marked from too many treatments, it's– it’s–,"

  "Therefore my favourite part of you. It shows me your strength, determination and courage." He kissed my hands, which were covering my most hated space, his green eyes never leaving my gaze.

  I released a shaky breath, and he gently removed one arm at a time, leaning down to dust kisses around my be
lly button and lower, adoring every mark, scar and imperfection. "Every one of these marks that you hate, I will treasure, always, as they show me how hard you fought to stay alive, that you survived against the odds and it brought you here to me. To be with me."

  I think I’m going to cry!

  His hands dipped further, undoing my tartan shorts, pulling them down an inch at a time. Tudor’s eyebrows danced as he lowered my clan-coloured pants, “Auck aye the noo!” he teased.

  When he reached my feet, he removed the last piece of clothing and he whispered, “Amazing. You’re fucking perfect.”

  I blushed and held out my arms for him to come back, I didn’t like the loss. He didn’t waste any time and was on top of me in an instant.

  We were all hands and lips for several minutes, until he rose over me and whispered, “I can’t wait, Sunshine… I need you… now. ”

  I was nervous, he was just so much more than I had ever had before, and I didn’t just mean in size. I tensed as he slowly moved forward, and gritted my teeth at the initial feeling of fullness.

  My invading pirate stopped and fixed his gaze on me, panting furiously. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded despite the discomfort. “Just, just, keep going, I’m… it’s… look, there’s a lot of you to take, I’m trying to… adjust.”

  He blushed, leaned in and kissed me, using the distraction to his advantage, groaning loudly and ploughing forwards. A light sweat had broken on our skin and we paused, just staring into each other’s eyes – enjoying the ecstasy of finally being together.

  He brushed the tip of my nose with his, “Tash… you are… fuck... everything."

  My hands ran across his back, feeling his defined muscles pulse with every movement, my hands landing on his firm backside, demanding more.

  His hips became erratic and his hands reached for mine, dragging them over my head. He locked our fingers, holding hands tightly and he began to lose control.

  “Tash, I need... I need… I-I don't want to hurt you, but... can I–?" he bit my shoulder, sucking the skin, unable to control the pleasure.