by Marie James
I’ve never found words so difficult before in my life, and I think it has more to do with being unsure of the answer whereas I usually know what someone is going to say before I open my mouth to ask.
I can’t keep living life like this. Today made me realize that I need to take chances because it could all be gone in the blink of an eye.
Maybe it’s the way I feel for him or maybe because I’ve had my eyes opened and I’m realizing I just want to live life, but I don’t let fear hold me back when I push against his chest to look down at him.
He’s not asleep, but I could tell by his breathing when I woke up that he wasn’t.
“Hey,” he whispers as his fingers push my hair off my face. “Feeling better?”
The lids of his eyes are lowered, and I can tell he’s struggling not to look down at my mouth. My body heats with need, but I still find myself getting shy.
I’m not a virgin, but all other sexual situations I’ve been in, the man has always been the one to make the first move. I know he wants me, but he seems reluctant to express that.
“Better,” I answer as I press my face back into his shoulder.
Maybe words aren’t what we need right now.
My hand shakes as my fingers start to roam over his chest. The rhythm of his breath changes as they drift lower, and I smile against his skin when his stomach muscles ripple under my touch.
“That feels so good,” he says, his words a rumble under my ear as his arm around my back squeezes me a little tighter.
My soft touch grows bolder as I trace a circle around his navel. He pulls in a sharp intake of air when I tease the top of his sweats. The gray fabric does nothing to hide his arousal, and if I ever doubted his attraction to me, I don’t now.
I hold my breath, biting my lower lip between my teeth as I outline his length as far down as my short arm can reach.
I squeal, a smile wide on my face when one second, I’m teasing him and the next, I’m flat on my back, hands pinned beside my head as he settles over me.
“Do you know what door you’re opening?”
I nod, hoping we’re on the same page.
His mouth finds mine on a growl, and this kiss is nothing like the one we shared in the bathroom earlier. He’s not as calm, not as controlled, and I freaking love it. I love that he is losing himself right now because I want nothing short of the real him.
My hips roll, but my movement is limited by the pressure of his body. We groan at the same time, the contact just enough to drive both of us crazy.
“I want to be inside of you,” he whispers against my mouth.
I nod enthusiastically. “I want that, too.”
“We can’t,” he says as he pulls his body back from mine.
Like I’ve been hit in the face with freezing rain, my eyes instantly begin to water. I have to look away from him, wiggling my hands so he knows to back off.
“No,” he says, his nose tracing down the side of my face. “Don’t think for a second I’m putting an end to this because I want to. Do you have condoms?”
I shake my head.
“I don’t either. Can I fuck you raw?”
I must take too long to answer because his head pulls back, a look of pleading on his face. God, I’ve never wanted to take a risk so bad in my life.
“I’m not on birth control,” I confess.
His hips jolt as if the news turns him on even more. Oh God, is he one of those guys that’s going to talk about coming inside of me and getting me pregnant? Would I be able to tell him now isn’t the best time in my life to do something wild like that? Why do I want to know what he feels like when he orgasms deep inside of me?
I blame the trauma from the day for these racing thoughts.
“Wren,” he snaps.
“What?”
“Wren has condoms.”
“Whitney isn’t on birth control?”
“I’m sure she is, but they play—they have a weird dynamic. Well, not weird, but it’s different than—”
“Were you going to get condoms or were we going to have a politically correct conversation about your friends’ kinks?”
His smile is radiant as he looks down at me, and I’m hot all over again at the sight of his kiss-swollen lips. Yep, this man absolutely does it for me.
With a skilled roll, he jumps off the bed. “Don’t go anywhere.”
I chuckle as he runs out of the room. Knowing what’s going to happen and not wanting to waste a second, I strip to my skin while he’s gone, only for him to return while I’m struggling to get my shirt over my head.
“Unwrapping my present?”
I whip the shirt over my head to find him standing in the doorway with a bruising grip on his cock over his sweats. Just the indication of his size, still hidden behind fabric, makes me force down a lump in my throat.
“Did he have any?”
I’m not entirely comfortable with Wren getting involved in our bedroom business, but this is an emergency.
“I texted,” he says, holding up his cell phone. “I’m waiting to hear back.”
I frown, making him laugh. “There is so much more we can do while we wait.”
I throw my shirt to the floor, ready and waiting for him to suggest getting on my knees, but then the man crosses the room and crawls up the bed from the end, gripping my ankles and spreading my legs.
His mouth is hovering over the apex of my thighs as his heated eyes peer up at me.
“I normally don’t have time to date, but I wanted you to know that this isn’t that.”
I nod because what else can a woman do when a man sets her on fire then puts his tongue within inches of the most sensitive part of her body?
He doesn’t want a relationship? Fine, I can handle that, but I’ll do it tomorrow after—fingers crossed—a couple of glorious orgasms.
I forget all about his words and spend the next fifteen minutes trying to remember how to breathe while he licks, nips and sucks on my clit until I have to beg him to stop. I’m boneless, shaking like I’m freezing, and willing to offer him anything I own if he pulls back for a few minutes to let me get my wits back.
He’s relentless, using his tongue and teeth in an expert way I’ve never experienced, then the tip of one finger joins the party and my back hurts from the muscles contractions.
The doorbell rings, and it sounds like the tinkle of a distant alarm, one that barely registers in my head, but he doesn’t stop until I’m seizing around that one prying digit and pulsing against his mouth.
His lips are cherry-red and swollen, beard damp with me when he pulls back. His eyes light up with devious intent as he glances from my face to my sex.
“Hold that thought,” he insists as he backs out of the room.
I couldn’t walk right now if I wanted to escape and getting away is the very last thought on my mind. If the man is that skilled with his mouth, what kind of pleasure could he wring from my body with other parts of his anatomy?
I watch as he reenters the room, a small basket in his hands. I open my mouth to ask him what he’s carrying, but then he drops his sweats, a single condom in his hand, and words fail me.
He is absolute perfection, the tip of his glorious erection weeping.
“Fuck, baby, you’re really good for my ego, the way you’re watching me.”
Sure fingers roll the latex down his length, and I’m entranced like a cobra following the tip of a flute as I rise out of a wicker basket. His cock jolts, bouncing with each step as he makes his way across the room to me, but he doesn’t settle between my legs like I expect him to.
He lifts me like I weigh nothing, settling me on his thighs, his glorious cock hard and hot between us.
“I’m pretty big,” he says as his lips find my shoulder.
“I noticed.”
“You’re really tiny. Oh, fuck,” he groans when I wrap both of my hands around his cock. His hips jolt up, nearly knocking me off his lap. “I don’t want to hurt you, so I need you to contr
ol this.”
“I don’t mind doing some of the work. You’ve done so much already,” I whisper as I dip my mouth to his, tasting myself on his lips.
His hands once again lift me under my ass, much the same way he did when he carried me into the shower earlier, only this time he doesn’t keep the distance between us. My clit scrapes up the length of him, and as eager as I am to come again, I want it to be with him inside of me rather than the tip of his cock rubbing against me that way.
He groans into my mouth when I reach down to line him up, his fingers curling into my flesh when I lower myself down slightly.
“Damn it, Hayden.”
He pulls back, his eyes staring into mine as I drop lower. My mouth falls open as I try to adjust to the stretch his body is demanding of mine, and I can’t help but look down, pressing my forehead to his as I watch him disappear inside of me.
“Squeezing me so fucking tight, baby,” he hisses. “Jesus, that feels amazing.”
I whimper with need as I circle my hips, wanting him completely inside of me but unsure if it’s even physically possible.
I lift a few inches before trying again, realizing that I won’t have to do much more to climax. He’s hitting every spot inside of me, some I never knew existed, and it makes my legs shake.
“Can you take more?” he pants. “Don’t want to hurt you.”
“F-feels s-so good,” I stammer. “M-more.”
“Like this,” he urges, his hands moving my pelvis forward. “Lean back.”
The action opens me up just a little more, but we both watch, eyes glued to where we’re connected as I slide all the way down.
His head snaps up, eyes trained on mine as he lifts me with the shear strength in his forearms before letting me slowly glide back down the full length of him.
My lips part on a moan, hands clamped on his shoulders as my legs begin to shake.
“Yes,” he whispers. “It’s mine. Give it to me.”
“Quinten,” I hiss when my body seizes up a split second before exploding.
His hips jerk, cock stabbing into me, and I love it. My eyes flutter closed before I can stop them, so I miss the sight of his handsome face when he orgasms but the rumbled groan echoes around the room. He fucks me through his orgasm, cock kicking inside of me countless times.
When it’s over, I crash against his chest, more exhausted than I was when I laid down right after our shower. The next thing I remember is the lulling sound of his heart beating against my ear.
Chapter 29
Quinten
Although it’s something that rarely happens, waking up with a woman in my arms doesn’t feel the least amount out of place. Knowing it’s Hayden’s breath skating across my skin when my eyes flutter open fills me with a sense of rightness so perfect, I’m hesitant to move in fear that it could end.
But my body is thrumming, cock hard and ready for more. I waiver between climbing out of bed and making us something to eat, stroking myself hoping that she’ll wake up and take over, and crawling down her body and sucking on her clit until she wakes up.
All three are viable options, but then her stomach rumbles in her sleep, making me realize we’ve been in bed for hours. The sun has set, indicating the day is ending, and she hasn’t eaten. My own stomach barks out a protest when her fingers flex against my chest and option one seems much less viable.
I’m trembling with unspent energy despite the restful nap I got this afternoon with her on my chest as I slowly extricate myself from the bed without waking her. I came close to losing her this morning, the threat of one man with a gun having the power to shatter my entire world, and I have nowhere to focus that energy. I grab my sweats from the floor and tug them up my thighs, the entire time keeping my eyes on her sleeping form as if she’ll disappear if I look away.
My stomach grumbles again, loud enough that I’m afraid it’s going to wake her, and that’s the only thing that gets me moving toward the kitchen. I snack on prepackaged grapes as I bend my head, looking in the fridge when I feel the air around me shift.
I turn, my heart ramping up to twice the speed when I see her standing on the other side of the kitchen, her body swallowed up in the shirt I took off and threw on the bathroom floor earlier before our shower.
She holds it to her nose, hiding a smile that’s still clear in the sparkle in her eyes.
“Hey,” I whisper. “How do you feel?”
“A little sore,” she confesses, her face still hidden behind the shirt she’s wearing.
I swallow thickly, my cock, and in all honesty, every other part of me, liking that she can still feel where I’ve been even several hours later.
I want to beat my chest like a savage when she gets closer, each step tentative, indicating just how tender she actually is. I feel like a wild animal, taking pride in the echo of my cock still on her sensitive skin.
She moves before I can fully reach for her, and I figure now isn’t the best time to ask her if she wants me to kiss it and make it better.
“I’m umm—” I clear my throat. “I figured you’d be hungry. I’m figuring out something to eat. Do you have any preferences?”
“Maybe just something light. I get the feeling I’m not going to stay awake for long.”
“A sandwich?” I offer.
“Do you have cereal?”
I close the fridge door and open the cabinet. “I have Raisin Bran.”
“That sounds perfect.” We reach for the same cabinet where I keep the bowls, but she shies away a little, making me wonder what’s going on in her head.
Is she still traumatized from that man grabbing her and threatening her life with a gun pointed at her? Of course, she is. A nap and amazing sex doesn’t make that go away suddenly.
“Here,” I say, offering her the bowl and taking a step back before grabbing the milk out of the fridge.
My stomach is twisting, turning in knots, and I want to ask her how she’s really doing, but the way she’s carrying herself indicates she doesn’t want to talk about it.
Once she pours milk into her bowl and steps away, I move to make my own bowl even though I no longer feel like eating.
I want to claim her, to sweep her up in my arms and vow to protect her for eternity, but at the same time I don’t want to push her away either. I hate that I don’t know how to act or know what to say to her to make it all better. I can’t vow that she’s safe. I don’t know who else is involved with that man back at her office, but I know enough about criminals to know the head guy seldomly shows up to confront the low man on the totem pole himself in person. Doing so isn’t good business, especially when shit can go sideways like it did this morning.
I hang my head, arms locked on the counter when she disappears from the room, only taking small comfort when I hear the television in the living room come to life. At least she isn’t disappearing and insisting on being alone.
I quickly make my bowl of cereal, returning the box to the cabinet and the milk to the fridge before grabbing a spoon and following after her. She’s sitting at the far end of the couch, eyes trained on the television instead of looking at me when I enter the room.
God, if she regrets what we did, I don’t know that I’d be able to live with myself. I checked in with her when she touched my cock that first time to make sure she knew what she was doing. At the time, she seemed so sure, as if she wanted to continue down that path we were walking, but now she seems distant and unsure.
“I’ll make sure to get you to the police station in the morning since your car isn’t here. I bet they’ll have your purse there as well.”
She nods as she circles her spoon in her bowl. I haven’t seen her take a bite yet, and if I had to guess, I’d say she’s hungry but doesn’t feel like eating. I imagine her stomach is in knots.
“You’re going to be fine. You won’t be in trouble,” I assure her.
“I shot a man.”
“A man that was holding you at gunpoint,” I remind her. “It was
self-defense.”
She looks at me for a brief moment before turning her eyes back to the television.
“What we did earlier—”
“I just want to eat and go back to bed.”
I nod, not willing to press the topic past what she’s comfortable with.
My cereal tastes like sawdust in my mouth as characters on the television laugh and joke about stupid shit. I can’t help but feel like that comedy has no place in our situation right now. She doesn’t change the channel and pick another show as the sitcom plays out. It’s like she’s here in body, but her mind is on a totally different plane of existence.
All too soon, she stands from the sofa. “I think I’m going to go to bed.”
I follow her to the kitchen, placing a hand on her back as she stands at the sink washing her cereal bowl. She looks up at me with a soft smile, but it doesn’t even get close to reaching her eyes. She doesn’t turn to me or lean against me as she shuts the water off, drying her hands on a dish towel.
“Goodnight,” she whispers, and I stand in the middle of my kitchen, listening to the guest bedroom door close with a soft snick.
After only a couple of hours in her bed, my room feels foreign to me. Her scent isn’t in here. The shape of her tiny body isn’t on my bed. I hate her being so close, yet completely unreachable.
I strip naked and climb in my own bed, punching at my pillow in anger as I turn to my side. Picking up women isn’t hard for me, but I have no clue when it comes to the one I can see myself keeping forever.
Getting shot down by a woman in a bar just means it wasn’t my night and I could try again there or go to another place to risk my luck.
Losing Hayden isn’t an option, but it’s nearly impossible for me to keep my distance from the only woman I can see myself having a real future with. I’m so out of my element it isn’t even funny.