15. Claire
15
CLAIRE
I closed my eyes at the touch of his lips on mine. Hard yet smooth. Gentle yet needy.
A total surprise.
As he backed up, I licked my lips and watched his hot gaze drop to my mouth again.
“Oh.”
“Oh?” he replied, huffing a laugh. “What does that mean?”
I smiled, feeling giddy and so desired with how he couldn’t take his gaze off my lips. As though he wanted to kiss them again. And again.
He is interested! I wasn’t wrong.
“It means… Oh, is that how we’re going to show everyone that we’re together?”
He smiled slowly, and I held in a breath at how sexy he looked with that smug expression.
“It was just an idea that’s been on my mind.”
How long have you been thinking of kissing me?
“What took you so long to act on it?”
He opened and closed his mouth, seeming stuck on deciding how to reply. I stole the moment, depriving him of speaking. Leaning close as I gripped the front of his shirt, I tugged him back down for another kiss.
A longer one, hot and urgent to the point that he groaned when I parted my lips. I hummed in pleasure when he spread his fingers back into my hair to secure me where he wanted me.
“Good evening. Can I— Oh.” The waiter stopped, stepping back when he realized he’d interrupted.
“Hi.” Derek smiled up at the man. Slightly out of breath, he let the moment end as I slid back against the booth to sit and pick up my menu.
Wow. And whoa. And wow !
I blinked, squinting at the tiny font. As the waiter listed the specials, I sighed against Derek’s side.
We’d kissed. Kissed! Things were changing, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to consider pausing the momentum of this thrill. I hadn’t been this gaga and excited about being with a man in years, if ever, and now that he’d hinted at really being interested in me, I suddenly had no appetite for dinner.
I was left hungry and famished for him .
Derek ordered drinks, and I asked for the same thing. Drinks, food, and all. I couldn’t concentrate on a damn thing but how hard and hot his thigh was pressed against mine.
The waiter finally left, and I didn’t waste a second to look up at Derek.
“Was that for show?” I asked.
His answer to that specific question was all I needed to know.
He leaned in to whisper in my ear, sizzling me with the smoldering stare he gave me as he approached. His hand slid over my leg, caressing me until he gripped my thigh. “Does this feel like it’s just for show?” he asked.
He turned closer, kissing me again. This was no rush. It seemed he wanted to savor every second of this romantic dinner he'd planned.
Once more, I was swept away with the sensation of his mouth hard and demanding on mine, the rough whisker burn of his facial hair on my skin, the sexy growls he emitted as he slid his tongue back in to explore and taste me.
I lifted my hands to frame his face, not wanting him to even think about backing up.
We are doing this.
All pretense was out the window.
We were all in, making out before our date could really begin. Under the pressure of his mouth and caught in the strength of his hands on me, I tried to stay in the moment. Desire pummeled through me. Heat burned through my veins as I moaned and met him stroke for stroke, kiss for kiss.
And we were interrupted again. The waiter came to set our wine glasses down, prompting us to break apart for a nod of acknowledgment to him.
He watched me as I took a sip, then raised his glass to his lips which I wanted to have back on mine.
“So.” I cleared my throat. “There’s this thing called pacing.”
He laughed loudly, tugging me against him in a side hug. “Yeah. That’s, uh, yeah. Let’s slow this down.”
“I believe I was the one who intended to savor it all.”
He raised his glass to mine for a toast. “And I was the one who said there’s no need to rush.”
“What about Naomi?” I asked.
“She’s sleeping over at my sister’s.”
“You mean the sister at the bar right there, who hasn’t stopped looking at us since we sat?”
He smiled in their direction before he swooped in for another kiss. “Yeah. That sister. Naomi’s in good hands with Nicky for their movie night.”
“Let me guess…” I tapped my finger on my chin. “ Home Alone ?”
“Gee, how did you know?” he joked dryly.
I smiled, humored by this shared annoyance of her references to that movie. It started out as cute, but Naomi was such a stickler and knew every line by heart, so it was hard to even speak about it with the know-it-all.
“Last winter break, I flew her to New York to see all the buildings that they had in the second movie,” he admitted.
I snuggled in, lulled by the slow circles he idly traced on my shoulder as we sat so intimately close.
He talked more about Naomi, then I asked questions about him. I offered stories about myself, too. For the next hour and a half, we managed to change the pace of the night. We kissed here and there, almost as if we had to check and make sure that we’d taken that step. But we ate, and talked, and got along as seamlessly as we always did.
Once desserts came and then the bill, too, we got up to leave. I was under no illusion that the night was over, not with the lines we’d crossed.
And I wasn’t alone in that thought. We left the restaurant hand in hand, but when we reached his SUV, he tugged on my hand until I faced him.
“Are you still planning to savor every second?”
I nodded, backpedaling as he walked me toward his car. My back hit the side. With him caging me in, we met in the middle.
He lowered to kiss me at the same time I reached up to loop my arms around his neck to hold him close.
Under the dark sky dotted with stars, we lost track of time—leisurely or rushed—as we kissed and kissed.
Then in the car, still holding hands, we shot each other knowing looks that signaled lust.
Back at his house, I didn’t see much of his land again. We were right back to it, where we’d left off, kissing like there was no tomorrow. Every press of his lips against mine was hotter than the last. Each time he held me closer, I felt like I was constrained from really feeling him.
Groping and struggling to shed our clothes, we got into his house and refused to back up.
“I thought you said we should pace ourselves,” he said, out of breath as he guided me through his dark house.
“Uh-huh.” I tugged hard at his shirt as he reached for my dress’s zipper. “Faster.”
“What about savoring?—”
I kissed him hard as buttons gave way on his shirt. “Next time,” I mumbled in protest. Next time, because I was that confident that once wouldn’t be enough. Next time, because this was so hot and frantic that neither of us would be able to last.
Finally naked, treated to the glorious expanse of his taut skin stretched over so many muscles, I shivered in delight. He raked his hungry gaze over me too, taking in every revealed inch of my body. Holding my hand, he led me into a huge bedroom.
“I intend to savor everything you can give me,” I told him.
He nodded. “Me too.” He cupped my face, kissing me tenderly at the same time that he lowered me onto the bed. Following me down, he made sure there was no break in our kiss.
I ached for him, from the peaks of my hard nipples to the slick tension in my pussy. I felt this lust taking over me from the inside out, and as he braced his weight on top of me, staring at me with his forearms on either side of my head, I widened my legs.
“I–I won’t last,” he warned between kisses as he trailed his mouth down my jaw and toward my neck. His hand was already sliding down to my entrance. As soon as he reached me there, he used one finger to smear my wetness around in a taunting caress.
“Me neither. Been too long.” I wrapped my fingers around his thick length, stroking the long hardness until he closed his eyes and thrust into my hand.
“I’m clean,” he said.
“Me too.” I kissed him, lifting my butt off the bed to try to push him into me. “I don’t care about pacing ourselves anymore.”
He shook his head. “I don’t care either.”
“All I care is that you fill me, right now. And—” I gasped as he did, putting his wide cockhead into my entrance and pausing.
“Oh, yes. Please. More, Derek. More.” I held his head to me as he kissed and sucked near my nipples.
Then he listened, sliding all the way into me and stretching me so wide.
There was no going back on this. We’d reached a point far past a fake date.
And there was nothing fake about this. I felt the real hardness of him pounding into me. He heard the desperate moans and whimpers for him to go faster and deeper.
We might have started out pretending, but the moment I came and triggered him to as well, I knew that we’d messed it all up in going for what we really wanted.
This.
“Oh, Derek!” I shouted as my pussy clenched around him. Wave after wave of pleasure careened through me, almost dizzying me with the stark relief.
“Fuck. I’m going to… Claire, I’m?—”
I kissed him hard as he shot his hot cum deep into me. His dick jerked, wedged so far up in me that I cried out at the additional push over my clit.
Together, we came.
Together, we lay spent and sated, catching our breath.
The deed was done. We’d crashed through the boundaries that declared our relationship as fake.
That wasn’t pretending. We’d really crossed the lines like that.
And I couldn’t wait to do it again.