Chapter 32 Flowers #2
I pull back only when I’m sure he’s completely come down from the high, and he helps me to stand.
His mouth crashes against mine in a charged kiss.
Wrapping his arms around me, he picks me up so that my legs circle his bare waist. He moves us toward the bedroom, and I grind against him, aching for my own orgasm.
When he makes it to the bed, he throws me on top of it and grabs the leggings I’m wearing, yanking them off of my body in one swift motion.
Standing back, his lustful gaze works over me and takes me in. My fingers find my center, and I begin to play with my clit just the way I like it.
“That’s it,” he says. “Show me what you like. Show me what you do to yourself when no one else is around.”
I move a finger inside of me and gasp at the feeling. Adding a second, I moan again. His eyes darken as he watches me pleasure myself.
“Who do you think about when you play with your pretty cunt?”
“You,” I breathe out. “I’ve always thought about you.”
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he says, kneeling in front of me. Removing my hand, he sucks my fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around them. They make a popping sound as he removes them, and my pussy flutters with anticipation.
“Fuck, can I taste you?” he asks.
“You better,” I quip.
He pulls my hips forward, and I let out a moan at the roughness of his touch.
“You like it when I’m a little rough with you, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I agree, panting.
His firm hands trail up my legs, and he moves both of them over his shoulders.
“Please,” I beg. “Fuck, I can’t wait any longer.”
And I can’t. I need his mouth on my clit like I need oxygen, and if it doesn’t happen soon I might just perish.
His lips press soft kisses up the smooth skin of my upper thighs, and the rough hair of his beard tickles me in the most delicious way.
I’m not going to last long either. I’m about to come completely undone from just the anticipation of his mouth.
Flattening his tongue, he licks up my center in one long, languid stroke.
“Ahhhhhh,” I moan, as he sucks my sensitive bud into his mouth, gently nipping it with his teeth. There is nothing gentle about how this man devours pussy. It’s rough and feral and…
“Oh…fuck…fuck…” I gasp as the tip of his tongue circles my clit slowly. One of my hands finds his hair, and the other grips the soft sheets on the bed.
His fingers find my entrance, and he pushes two in, causing me to gasp at the sudden full feeling. His mouth and hand work in perfect tandem, causing my back to arch and my hips to thrust forward.
Over and over he pumps into me, torturing me with the perfect licks and flicks of his tongue. Pressure builds at the base of my spine.
“That’s it,” he says, pulling back slightly but not slowing his hand. His fingers curl against my most sensitive spot, and my whole body jolts. “Soak me.”
His mouth returns to my clit, and with one stroke of his tongue, my eyes roll back, and I fall. My legs shudder around him, squeezing together, as he takes me through the waves of my release. And then when I’ve completely come down from it, he moves up to the bed to join me.
Our mouths tangle in another heady kiss. His tongue moves over mine, and I moan into him as I taste myself. Pulling back, a wide grin breaks across his face as we both attempt to catch our breath, and I’m certain he’s just ruined me forever.
It may have only been a few days since we hooked up in New York, but I know I can never go that long without us touching like that again.
I move so that my body lazily drapes over the top of his. My hand draws circles up and down his thick bicep, and our breaths, still slowing, begin to sync into perfect rhythm with each other.
“How long have you had an anemone tattooed on your leg?” I ask.
“I started working on the sleeve during my first off-season in Texas.”
“Hmmm,” I hum, thinking back to the elaborate ink that I studied earlier.
“What do the other flowers mean?”
“Well, the foxgloves are for Iris because she loves fairies. The daisies are my sister’s favorite, and the tulips are for Elsie.”
“And the anemone?”
“It’s for you.”
“But why?”
“Because I missed you. Because I thought about you every damn day I was in Texas.”
My hand stills.
“But you never called.”
“I should’ve.”
“What would’ve happened if I hadn’t walked into that bar though? If Stella hadn’t intervened and pushed us together here? You would’ve just…what? Married some other woman one day with my favorite flower tattooed on your leg?”
“I thought you hated me back then, remember,” he explains.
“There were rules. No nicknames. No strings. No sleepovers. The last night I was in town, you told me you wouldn’t miss me.
I think your exact words were that you’d miss only my dick.
It’s not like you were blowing up my phone either.
We both had our careers. You said that yourself the other day. ”
“So why get the tattoo?”
“Because you meant a lot to me, Claire. Because no matter what, you will always be someone I want to remember. Because even if I never saw you again, it wouldn’t change how I felt about you. Fuck, how I feel about you.”
“And how do you feel about me?”
He closes his eyes and inhales deeply.
“Everett, how do you feel about me?” I repeat.
“I’m falling in love with you.”
“You’re falling in love with me?” I sit up, my mouth parting slightly.
“Yes,” he says, sitting up to meet me and taking my hands in his.
“I know that’s a lot, but you’re right, I should’ve told you how I was feeling all those years ago.
I should’ve told you yesterday when we were playing that silly game.
I’ve been letting my insecurities get in the way of me being honest with you.
So, forgive me for the blunt delivery, but I don’t want to keep it to myself anymore. I want you to know how I feel.”
“Everett…I…” My eyes shift down to his tattoo, and my fingers trace the black center of the anemone.
“You don’t have to say anything back. I just need you to know that I am falling for you,” he says softly.
“Falling for me,” I breathe out as my eyes lock on his.
“Yes.”
I reach forward, cupping his face, and kiss him tenderly. Pulling away, I open my mouth to say something, anything, but he speaks first.
“Let’s get ready and head to town,” he says, his face falling.
“Everett…I…”
Guilt overwhelms me. I should say something. I should tell him I’m starting to fall for him too, but like a coward, I don’t.
“It’s really okay.” He shakes his head and moves from the bed.
As I move through the motions of getting dressed, I silently reprimand myself for not having the courage to say what I should have, but the fear that this still isn’t real, and he doesn’t actually mean what he said, consumes me.