Chapter Thirty-One
Dewey Decimal Classification: 306.73 Culturally Typical Patterns of Sexual Relationships and Behaviors
[Naomi]
I am not a seductress, but the way Nathan’s eyes follow the movement of my body, I feel empowered. Like I can be the sexual being I want to be with him. I can lead him into my home. I can take him to my bed. I can allow him into my heart.
The inner goddess wants these things.
And I do as well.
I’m ready to give in to everything that’s been between us for the last month—unresolved desire—and a second chance.
We pause for only a moment to douse the dying flames of my celebration fire. Fire and water—two elements of nature—mixed together. While one smothers the other, the other sizzles under the connection. This strange metaphor fills my thoughts as I continue to lead Nathan into my home. I flip off the lights as we pass through my kitchen and living room. We climb the stairs in darkness, and my heart races with each step I take upward. Nathan clutches my hand as he follows me. We don’t speak.
Once we enter my room, the soft click of the door sounds like a shot to begin the race and I leap for him. My mouth crashes against his in another unpretty kiss of eager lips and clashing teeth.
“Ow,” I whimper, giggling as I pull away from him. Nerves kick in. “I might be bad at this.”
“You’re perfect,” he states, lifting both his hands to cup my face and draw me back to his mouth. I conclude it’s safer to let him lead and give in to the pressure of his lips over mine. He pulls me into him, sucking and sipping, taking his time to outline the lower curve and nip at the corner. My body softens against the firmness of his, leaning on him, allowing him to take control. He continues to meld our mouths together. Slow. Purposeful. He’s not leaving a portion untouched.
The heat of his hands on my cheeks lowers to my neck, massaging before his lips follow. Open mouth kisses suck at my sensitive skin while his hands round my shoulders, forcing the neckline of my nightgown to spread over them and slip down my arms. He nips me near my clavicle, and I squeak as my knees buckle. I feel like I’m going to crumble to the floor, but Nathan’s firm hands hold my upper arms, keeping the stretched-out nightdress in position. He speaks against my shoulder.
“We’ll only go as far as you’d like, but I’d very much like to see what you’re wearing under this thing.”
“I’m not wearing anything,” I whisper.
“And that’s what I want to see.” Is he being cheeky while sexy at the same time? I smile as his mouth continues a trail to my left shoulder, teeth tenderly closing the path before moving lower. My nightgown dips, catching on my rock-hard nipples briefly before allowing both breasts to spring free of the material. Nathan pauses his undressing and stares down at the heavy swells, ripe and ready for him.
“You are so fucking beautiful, Naomi.” His eyes haven’t left my achy globes, and a hand releases my nightdress and tenderly cups one, lifting the weight to meet the heat of his mouth. I cry out at the sensation, and Nathan smiles against my skin.
He continues to suck at my breast, drawing it deeper into the warm cavern of his mouth and then slowly releases me to circle the nipple with his tongue, forcing it into a tighter peak. I don’t think the nub can take much more and then he moves to the other one, giving it equal treatment. My hands cup the back of his head, holding him against me. I don’t want him to ever stop and my breath hitches when he nips at the second sharp peak before releasing me. I want to pull him back to me, but his mouth continues down the center of my belly as does my nightgown. Nathan drops to one knee.
“Nae,” he whispers against my tummy, a question in his voice. The material of my shift circles my waist as do Nathan’s hands, curling at my sides. He pauses, continuing to kiss me as my stomach quivers with anticipation of his mouth dipping even lower on my body.
“I want this,” I say, almost a replica of the words I said to him the night we first slept together. My fingertips continue to stroke through his hair, hinting for his head to continue down my body. As if reading my command—my desperation—his hands drag the soft fabric over my hips and release it to fall the remainder of the way to the floor. Nathan rocks back on his heels and stares at the dark mound at the apex of my legs. His eyes drift upward until they meet mine.
“You’re a goddess, and I plan to worship you.” Before I can respond, his nose presses against the coarse hair and his tongue stretches forward. The tip meets my swollen, pulsing, sensitive nub, and I gasp. I reach for his shoulders, not certain if I’m pushing him away or pulling him closer.
As his tongue delves deeper, swirling and curling, my knees give out.
Closer, I realize. I want him so much closer to me.
Releasing me with a lavish lick, he holds my hips and guides me backward until the back of my knees hit the mattress. Nathan tugs me to the edge and returns between my thighs. I’m grateful for the seat as my legs continue to shake. He’s tucked a hand under each knee and pushes upward. The movement forces me to fall back and spread wider while his mouth devours me.
Forget Vilma and her stupid videos. This is so much better.
“More.” Without realizing it, I’m crying out for it.
Nathan chuckles against sensitive folds, drawing out a kiss down there before returning his tongue to its mission.
“Nathan,” I squeak. I’m not certain if I’m asking a question, making a statement, or warning him, but I feel a building, a creeping, a climbing like I’ve never felt before. Not alone. Only with him.
His name becomes a strangled scream as the release is like nothing I’ve experienced. I flit. I float. I’m outside myself as tingles race from my feet to my core. My lower belly explodes with a rush of flutters. Pinpricks of light flash before my eyes. I’m clutching at Nathan’s head, holding him between my thighs in the most compromising position I’ve ever been in, and I don’t want to let him go.
Eventually, he pulls back with a final lap at my seam, and then sucks at my inner thigh. My hands fall away from his head, landing on the bed beside me. I can’t move. I can’t think.
“Nae?”
I groan in response, or at least, I think I do. I’m not even certain I’m me and he’s really here.
Is this a dream?
Then he stands. His glorious bare chest with a sprinkle of hair forming a V near firm, smooth pecs. His silver, finger-swept hair. His gray gleaming eyes. He’s real all right, and he’s staring down at me with his hands on his belt buckle, hesitating. I blink. I blink again. Then I lift my head.
Nathan chuckles softly. “I asked, can we keep going?”
He’s asking me for more and I’m so willing to give it to him. For a second, I don’t think I’ll recover from what we just did, but my eager body is already revving up for what will happen next. My cookie crumble reheats and I’m melting before he even touches me.
“Yes.” I emphatically nod to assure him.
Nathan strips and the sight of him doing so nearly brings a second orgasm. I watch in wonder as he tugs off his boots, peels off his socks, and then, torturously slow, removes his jeans. He keeps on his boxer briefs but bends down for his jeans again and pulls something from the pocket. Tossing it up on the bed, I twist my head to find two foil packets.
Condoms. My stomach sinks with relief that we don’t need to have this awkward discussion. Then I recall when I saw him a month ago at the Piggly Wiggly. My head turns back for him.
“I haven’t been with anyone since that night,” he answers as if reading my mind. I nod once. The euphoric emotions of the moment slowly slipping away from me. “Let me assure you I won’t be with anyone else from this night forward.” He crawls over my body, leveraging his lower half to spread my thighs. He balances on his elbows as his fingers reach for my hair and twist the braid around a fist.
“I don’t want to be with anyone else, goddess. Do you get me?”
I nod my understanding.
“You’re giving me
something sacred,” Nathan whispers before leaning forward and resting his forehead on mine. Something must tell him what we are about to do is catching up to me. I’m giving up my virginity. Again.
“I’ve already given it to you,” I attempt to tease, and hope I’ve disguised the trembling in my voice. I’m nervous, and anxious, and beginning to overthink. He pulls back to look down at me. A shaky hand brushes over loose hair around my face.
“But this time, I’m hoping you’ll give me more. I’m hoping you’ll give me your heart.”
My eyes sting and I blink a few times willing the tears to stay hidden. The anxiety in me retreats, almost as if marching away from the part he wants the most.
“I gave it to you before, as well.” I reach up for his scruff covered cheek, holding my palm against the scratchy hair recently between my thighs. He turns his face into my palm, kissing the center of the pad and closes his eyes for a second.
“I’ll definitely be bad at this,” I whisper.
“It’s going to be so good.” Softly, he kisses my lips until my girlie parts tingle again and I begin to wiggle under him, seeking friction. There’s no hiding his arousal as the firm length presses against me. His hips roll forward and we start a new dance. Fingers dip into my hair as our kisses heat. My legs open farther as we grind together. Nathan’s hand outlines my body, caressing a breast before wedging between us, prepping me for what’s next.
“You ready for me, Nae?” His voice roughens as his fingers gently trace over sensitive folds. I buck against the delicate touch, my body reaching toward his for more. “You feel ready.”
He’s teasing as slickness coats his fingers. His mouth nibbles at my neck while he primes me with one finger and then a second. I hardly recognize the sounds within my room—the moaning, groaning, whimpering—which can only be coming from me. Nathan withdraws from my center and pushes at his boxers. His eyes stay on mine as he blindly reaches for the packet on the bed. Then he kneels back between my thighs. I watch as he bites the foil and then close my eyes. If I see him touch himself, I’ll spontaneously combust before anything happens.
Leaning over me again, the tip of him touches my entrance. He’s nudging but not pressing, like a knock at the door, waiting for an answer.
“I want this,” I assure him.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” Whether he means physically or emotionally, I don’t know. Either way, the intrusion into my body—and my heart—runs the risk of stinging.
And I want the sting. He presses forward and there is a slight burn. The stretching. The pulling. The filling.
He stills for me to catch my breath.
“You okay?”
“It just … I don’t know …” He tips his head as he peers down at me and I lick my lips before I explain. “I’d say I’ve never felt anything like it before, but I have felt it. With you.”
He smiles and leans forward to kiss my nose.
His hand slips down my arm to my fingers, entwining his with mine. Squeezing tightly, we make a collective fist and he thrusts forward. I’d like to say it was an overwhelming experience—that first thrust. All the romance novels make it sound romantic. I’d like to say it didn’t hurt. The books also act like it doesn’t. The truth is—both occurred at once. I lost my breath as he filled me in a way I hadn’t remembered. I also felt a sharp sting and my eyes watered as he tapped deep inside me. I couldn’t help it. A tear escapes.
“Shh, sweetheart.” Nathan swipes a thumb at the corner of my eye, watching me with a wary expression as he stills. The weight of him over me is incredible. Heavy, pressing, fulfilling. “How do you feel?”
“Full.” The word comes out breathless and quiet, and Nathan smiles again.
“I feel full, too.” He kisses me, dragging my lower lip between his and then opening wide to take my mouth. Seconds pass as we lay connected. Mouth on mouth. Him in me. He pulls back with a teasing nip at my lower lip.
“I don’t remember it being like this,” I say. My memory is so vague in comparison to the current reality.
“Oh yeah? How do you remember it, goddess?” He’s teasing me again, but not making fun of me. With his question, he draws back, threatening to leave me. I whimper.
“Tip your hips up,” he softly commands but his voice shakes as if he’s on the edge of losing control. I do as he says, and he plunges forward in response. “Move with me.”
“Again.” My breath hitches and my eyes roll back. He stills and I open to meet his gaze. My mouth opens but no sound comes out. Again.
We repeat the movement, my body following his lead until I begin to naturally react to his, and I chase the pace he sets, beat for beat until the climbing sensation skitters along my legs and the flutters drop in my belly once again.
“Nathan?” I question, although I know what’s about to happen. The thrill climbs higher. His hips have begun a pummeling rhythm, as he taps deeply into me. A hand slips under my backside, slightly lifting me to meet him—thrust for thrust.
“That’s it, goddess.” He knows what’s about to happen, too, and his driving increases. My fingers dig into the firm globes of his backside, holding him in me. I whimper each time he pulls back and relish the fill each time he propels forward. Finally, I can’t take it any longer and I still, my body humming, spiraling, exploding all around him.
Near to bruising, fingers squeeze at my backside as Nathan curses and then I feel a pulsing, thumping, deep within my channel.
“Nathan?” I question again, as if I don’t realize what he’s doing.
Sweet Goddess! Nathan is gorgeous as he strains over me. A vein swells along his neck as he bites his lip and holds himself above me. My eyes lower between us, wanting to see us connected, as if feeling it isn’t enough. The firm evidence of his manhood has disappeared within me and my peeking confirms what I already know—Nathan and I are one in this moment.
He collapses over me, the weight again a reassurance of sorts. I hold still not wanting to lose the sensation. Never wanting him to leave me again. The thought hits me hard.
He’s going to leave.
He has his own home. His own life. He has a family. He has children. He …
“Stop thinking so hard,” he mutters against my shoulder.
“I’m not thinking,” I defend, wondering how he knew.
“I can feel your thoughts.” He presses up on an elbow and peers down at me. I’m overly aware of our continued connection as well as a stickiness. “I’ll be right back.”
He slips out of me rather quickly, leaving me with a strange sense of emptiness. I hear, rather than see, the snap of the condom being removed, and he enters my hallway, heading for the bathroom. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do next.
All those years ago, Nathan received a phone call moments after we finished. He slipped from bed, instantly answering it. He muttered into the phone, hung up, and swiped a hand down his face. Then he tossed the phone to me.
“Put your digits in there.” He nodded at the phone.
“I gotta go, babe, but I want to see you again. I’ll call you.” The words stung more than him taking something so precious as my virginity. His voice hid something that settled sourly in my stomach. He kissed me one more time—quick, firm, harsh. And then he left.
“Naomi?” My head rolls against my pillow and I look up to see Nathan peering down at me. His eyebrows pinch as he searches my face. My heart races with anxiety, anticipating what he’ll say next. “You okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Brittle words snap out of me after I’ve just experienced one of the best moments of my life. Why did I say that to him in such a tone? This time it isn’t shame that steals my moment, but fear.
“You have a funny expression on your face. I just asked you if I could stay.”
I quickly sit upright. There’s no sheet to clutch over me as we did this on top of my bed, so my arm covers my breasts as if that hides me. I sit in all my nakedness, baring not only my body but my soul to him as my voice sque
aks.
“You’d like to stay?”
Nathan reaches for the back of his neck and scratches. His eyes shift away from me. I notice he has put his boxers back on and dangles something in his hand.
“I mean … well … I’d like to stay if you want me to.”
“Do you want to stay?” I question, my voice lowering another octave.
“I just told you I’d like to stay.” He nervously chuckles and I remind myself, I’m so bad at this. I stare at him, waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for the universe to implode.
It doesn’t.
“I’d very much like you to stay.”
His lip curls in a crooked grin, the dimple slow to release. “I brought you this, if you want to clean up.” He holds out a hand towel from my bathroom and I nearly choke on my relief. He reaches for the cover on my bed after I take the towel and pulls back the sheets.
“I’ll just be a minute,” I say, hopping off the mattress and quickly stepping toward the hall for the bathroom. Inside the small, enclosed space, I thump my forehead against the door, taking deep breaths.
I just had sex with Nathan Ryder!
The thought hits me as hard as the ache between my thighs.
I just had sex with Nathan Ryder.
The excitement lessens as I clean myself and toss the towel at my hamper. I lean toward the mirror over the sink. Do I look different? Will Green Valley residents know what I’ve done? I stare at my face—rosy and flushed. My lips are swollen. My eyes stare back at me, wide and bright.
I do look different.
I feel different.
I had sex with Nathan Ryder.
What I don’t feel is guilty. This time it’s something more. It’s something deeper.
I peer up at myself one more time, releasing the bed-wrangled braid and fluffing up my hair.
Love in Due Time Page 28