21. Claire
21
CLAIRE
D o not scream.
Do not scream.
“Oh, fuck!” I gasped it out loud, too tortured with the rising tension Derek built within me. He stroked his tongue up and down, again, licking me like he couldn’t get enough of my taste.
“Shh,” he warned playfully, and that hush of air teased my sensitive pussy even more.
“I—” He reached up, watching me as he kept his mouth plastered to me down there. His hand slid over my mouth, not hard, but I got the note.
I could barely think with him licking, sucking, and kissing my cunt like that, but I knew we couldn’t wake up Naomi. That was obvious.
I nodded, slightly, breathing so hard with how aroused he made me. Instead of relying on him to muffle my sounds, I turned my head a little so I could part my lips and let his finger into my mouth.
He grinned, catching on. With his beard glistening from my cream, his lips so pink from all the work he was giving them, he opened his mouth wider to lick at me again, making sure to finish with a suck on my clit.
I did the same, sucking his digit into my mouth and moaning at the exquisite pleasure. I was so close, so near an explosion of an orgasm.
He slipped another finger into my mouth, not gagging me, but giving me something to keep my mouth wrapped around so I wouldn’t be too loud.
“You wanna come for me, sweetheart?” he growled.
That did it. I came. Oh, I came all right, trembling and gasping for air. If it wasn’t the way he looked me in the eye as he ate at me, then it was the introduction of an endearment. Or the masterful skill he showed with his tongue, lips, and fingers.
He slid the two fingers he’d been thrusting into my entrance out so he could clean them, and I stared at him with wild lust. Waves of pleasure still rocked through me, but I gestured for him to get up and move.
I didn’t care whose turn it was. I wanted?—
“Not so fast,” he said, laughing as we scrambled on the bed. He didn’t lie down at my urging, and so dizzy from coming so hard, I wasn’t oriented enough to stop him from wrapping his arms around me and keeping me where he wanted me.
As he knelt on the bed, he rubbed his dick between my legs. I leaned my back against him, groaning with a prolonged streak of pleasure as he directed me to straddle him. His fingers stroked over my breasts, but he guided one hand lower, touching my clit that still throbbed.
And lower yet, he moved his hand until he could line himself up.
The first push of his wide cockhead had me crying out. I was so sensitive, so needy yet. I’d just come, and it still wasn’t enough.
“Shh,” he warned playfully, bringing his fingers back to my mouth. He slid them in, and I felt so naughty, so wanton, to suck on them as he silenced me. My mouth was stuffed with his two fingers thrusting in and out, but he stuffed me elsewhere, too, stretching my inner walls with his big shaft. He arched his hips up, faster and steadier, as he pumped into me from behind.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he swore, groaning lightly as he fucked me hard.
Me neither. I moved my head, giving him a sign that I wanted him to take his fingers out of my mouth. He did, and once I had the access to reach behind me and direct his lips to mine, I kissed him hard. Tasting myself on his tongue made this all the hotter. Feeling the stickiness of my cum in his beard drove up my desire. I was so aroused despite just coming.
I wouldn’t last. And if the ragged breaths he took were any indication, he wouldn’t either.
“Fuck. Claire.” He growled as he lowered his hand to rub my clit. “I don’t want to stop. Ever.”
But it did. Or I did. All the tension snapped within me. The buildup of arousal stopped, spilling over as I came again.
Limp and shaking from the force of pleasure coursing through me, I fell forward as he slammed into me a couple more times. He came with a low but restrained growl. His fingers gripped my hips tight as he shot his hot cum deep inside me. Wave after wave of relief soothed me. Spurt after spurt of his seed filled me.
We collapsed together, sticky, sweaty, and spent. For several long moments, we couldn’t do anything but catch our breath and let our hearts slow back down.
“Well, that got… messy,” I quipped at last. Falling asleep like this would be sweet. I didn’t want to get up at all. But I’d regret it later when our skin got glued.
He chuckled, easing out of me and helping me get up. “But fun,” he said, leading me into his bathroom to clean up.
Later, after we were clean, tired, and sated, we fell asleep in his bed. Both of us put alarms on our phones for me to get up early and sneak into the guest room. While we were becoming more open with kissing in front of Naomi, it didn’t feel right to let her see that we were sharing a bed.
I wasn’t sure when or how we could. But I’d considered it. I’d gone so far as to like a few blended family pages and was scrolling on some dos and don’ts about dating a widower.
In the middle of the night, though, I woke up and frowned. I heard something. I knew I had. It was always so different getting used to sleeping here in the country where it was quiet. I was so used to city noises that I had to adjust, but I was used to the peaceful lack of noise pollution now. That was how far I was into loving this slower pace of life out here in the open.
What was that? I glanced at Derek and found him sleeping away.
Unable to fall back asleep, I dismissed irrational worries that the Scott tradition of trees meant a squirrel or something unwelcome could be making noise in the living room.
I got up, wrapped a robe around myself, and headed out there.
Naomi sat in front of the tree. Cross-legged, she stared up at the twinkling lights.
“Hey,” I said softly. “What are you doing?”
She saw me step out of her daddy’s room, but she didn’t seem to judge or react to that. Her face looked so sad that I doubted she’d even realize any potential significance of my coming out of his room in the middle of the night.
“I couldn’t fall back asleep.”
“Did you have a bad dream?” I asked. My pajama pants swished as I walked toward her and sat next to her.
“No. I woke up and just started thinking and thinking.”
I nodded. “I hate when that happens.”
“Do you miss your mom?”
She asked it so suddenly that it caught me off-guard. “Sure. Sometimes. Do you miss your mom too?”
“I never knew her.”
“But you’ve heard about her.”
She sighed, hugging her stuffed animal bear tighter. “Yeah. But it’s not the same.”
“No, it’s not. But those stories are what keeps them with us.”
Damn, this was sad. First, I talked about this with Derek. Now, her. Maybe the holiday season was rougher on us all than any of us wanted to admit.
“Will you tell me a story?”
I blinked in surprise. “About your mom?”
She furrowed her brow. “Did you know her?”
I shook my head. “No, but I like learning about her.”
“Maybe a story will help.”
“Okay.” I got my phone out of my robe pocket, where I’d slipped it when I left Derek’s room. Just in case. “Um, let’s see.”
She laughed at what showed on screen when I unlocked it. “You want a puppy too!”
I smiled at being caught looking up details about caring for beagle puppies. “Wouldn’t it be so cute to get them all?”
“You’re worse than me,” she teased. “I said I wanted three dogs. And you wanted all four of the ones in that cage at the end of the shelter.”
I sighed. “Wishful thinking.”
“Why can’t you get a dog?” she asked.
“I work a lot. It wouldn’t be fair to the dogs.”
“Then work less.”
I smiled.
“I could keep them company when you work.”
But Denver’s not just down the road, kiddo.
“Uh-oh.”
“What?”
“Now you look like I probably did when I was thinking about my mom. Sad.”
She wasn’t wrong. I was getting sadder about going back to the life I was taking a break from. I didn’t look forward to returning to my apartment and my life being go, go, go.
“Nah.” I cleared my throat, chastising myself for getting carried away with what-if thoughts about if I were to stay here for good. If Derek and I talked about forgetting this fake stuff.
If I let Grace have more space to take over more at the company.
“Here’s one,” I said, scrolling absently on my e-reader app. “The Christmas Puppy.”
“That’s a kids’ book.”
I laughed, resting against the couch with her. We stayed on the floor, with the tree aglow, but she snuggled into my side as she moved into place. I reached up and grabbed the throw on the cushions, and she situated it on our laps.
“Seeing as you’re a kid…”
“That’s below my reading level.”
“Then humor me.”
“Oh, Claire,” she said with a giggle as I swiped to the text of the e-book. “That font is—” She giggled harder.
I laughed too, used to the sad fate that I was past due for reading glasses. “Hush. I’ll have you know I’ve got an appointment with Dr. Joseph on January ninth.”
She smiled. “You’re welcome.”
I smiled, too, and read. Even after she fell asleep, I read on and on, too content in this moment to let it stop.