Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
ABBY
W ait? What does he mean, wait?
“Ladies first,” he murmurs, his hands slipping under my shirt to pull it off.
My sudden panic eases. Oh, that’s all he meant. Well, I’ll never say no to that.
His fingers skate over my ribs on his way back down, and he makes quick work of my pants, leaving me in my lingerie.
He sits back, his hands on his thighs, gaze roaming all over me, like it’s a physical touch. Goosebumps break out over my skin, anticipating what’s coming.
He continues to stare, his thumb rubbing over his mouth. “I thought I might’ve misremembered how beautiful you are.” He reaches out to wrap his fingers around my ankle. “But you are so fucking sexy.”
Pleasure suffuses me, from the top of my head down to the ankle in his grasp. He bends and presses a gentle kiss right above his fingers, then makes his way upward at a snail’s pace. My calf, my knee, my thigh, openmouthed, sensual kisses that have me shaking with the promise of what’s to come. But just when he’s at the top of my inner thigh, so close to where I want him, he leans back and starts over on my other leg.
A frustrated groan escapes me, and I can feel his smile curl into my shin as he takes his time, occasionally nibbling the tender skin, pausing when he finds a particularly sensitive spot. He’s acting like we have all the time in the world, and while technically we’re not in any rush, he has me so turned on, I’m throbbing for him.
When he stops halfway up my thigh to lave kisses there, I take matters into my own hands, snaking a hand down to rub myself over my panties.
“Abby,” he warns, in a low, possessive voice that sends a thrill through me.
I act oblivious. “Hmm?”
His hand comes up to gently flick my fingers away. “That’s mine.”
Another thrill, my heartbeat picking up in speed. “Well, you didn’t seem that interested.”
“I’m very interested. Let me savor this.”
He moves marginally faster up my inner thigh, until he’s poised over me. He nuzzles me over my underwear, the silk wet with my arousal. I’m past the point of caring how desperate I appear, ready to beg him to lick me already when his big palms spread my thighs wider, opening me up to him.
I whimper as his mouth covers me, sucking me through the thin fabric. Any contact is better than none, but as his finger gently pulls the silk aside to expose me, I give a pleading moan when he only blows cool air over me, wanting his tongue so badly.
“You want me to lick that pretty pussy?” he asks, his eyes mischievous as he looks up at me. Underneath the playfulness is red, hot desire, though. He can’t pretend he doesn’t want it as much as I do.
“Yes.” I squirm, trying to get closer, but it’s useless. His grip on my thighs is like iron. “Should I beg?”
He makes a soft sound of satisfaction. “No begging necessary. Hold your panties to the side.”
I do as he says, and I’m rewarded with a slow, gentle lick. He continues at that pace, torturing me the same way he did kissing up my leg.
“Are you savoring this, too?” I angle my hips further toward him, but his hands quickly bring me back down, keeping me on the edge, wanting more.
“You have no idea,” he murmurs, his steady rhythm driving me insane.
When we last did this, my pleading had him speeding up, giving me what I wanted, but he’s not as easily swayed now. He takes his time, building me up slowly over long minutes until my thighs are shaking, lust pent up and coursing through me, seeking release.
“You’re close,” he says, more like it’s a statement than a question.
I nod, gripping the tangled bedsheets underneath me with my free hand.
“You’ve been so good, letting me do what I want. You ready to come?”
“Please,” I croak out, filled with a pressure that’s near to bursting.
One of his hands lets go of my thighs, two fingers entering me smoothly with how wet I am, and curl forward as his tongue focuses on my clit, at a pace that has me moaning.
“Oh my God, yes. Like that. Just like that.”
I brace my free thigh against his cheek, practically humping his face with the way my hips are rocking, the pressure spiraling out of control.
My hands find his head, gripping his hair to make sure he doesn’t stop, and he hums in delight.
It’s the final thing that breaks me, and I cry out as I ride my high, my body jerking against his mouth as he continues to lick me exactly where I need him, prolonging the pleasure.
When I finally pull him away, his gaze is hungry as he removes his clothes, watching me. There’s little finesse to it, taking everything off as quickly as he can.
“You still have those condoms?” he asks, opening my bedside drawer. His cock bobs in front of him, and I have to force myself to drag my gaze away to process the question.
“I moved them under the bathroom sink.” I didn’t want to be constantly reminded of them when I clearly wouldn’t be putting them to use.
He nods and is off the bed in one fluid motion, retreating to the en suite bathroom.
I take stock of my body for a moment. The easy warmth running through my veins. My still pounding heart. The wetness between my thighs.
Peeling off my panties, I fling them onto the floor as Grayson returns, rolling a condom on.
“Do you need a minute? Or can you take me?”
“I can take you.”
He sits against the headboard, guiding me to straddle his lap, and positions himself at my entrance.
“I am so fucking hard for you,” he whispers, his hands on my waist, bringing me down on his length inch by inch.
I wasn’t on top last time, and the position feels wholly new, the way he’s filling me up a completely different experience. There’s a beautiful kind of tension, especially as he lifts me nearly off and back down, until my ass meets his thighs. The friction is exquisite as he sets a pace for us, but even better than that is watching his expression change, the emotions that play out, from anticipation to relief to need again.
“God, I’ve missed you,” he murmurs, kissing me deeply.
My heart fills with a yearning so intense, I nearly stutter with it. “I missed you, too.” I settle into the rhythm, up and down on his dick, my hands on his shoulders for balance, relishing the wide expanse of warm, tanned skin. “More than I thought possible,” I admit, letting some of that longing out.
“Yeah?” He leans back, studying me. “I was afraid I was the only one.”
“No, you weren’t.”
I’m not sure what he sees on my face, how much I’m revealing, but he seems to like it by the way he urges me closer, his kiss fervent, his tongue winding with mine.
His hands come up to undo the hook on the back of my bra, and he removes it, replacing the cups with his big palms, gently squeezing me.
It really feels like we’re making love, the way we’re connected like this, even if we haven’t said anything about that. My heart feels it, though, undeniably. This time with him has sharpened all my feelings, the highs greater than they’ve ever been, and the lows just as intense. We’re past the lows now, though. He came back to me.
My hand moves to rest over his heart, the fast thump under my fingertips proving he’s with me, that he feels this, too. That this is the start of something more. He wouldn’t have come back, otherwise. Wouldn’t have admitted how much he missed me, how he couldn’t stop thinking about me.
Sweat blooms over me, considering saying those three little words. They’re sitting right there on my tongue, waiting to escape. Would they bring us closer, connecting us forever? Or scare him off, all of this too much, too fast?
My lips tremble, wanting this off my chest, but before I can say anything, he groans and maneuvers us so my back is on the mattress, his weight anchoring me as he thrusts with faster strokes, need curling in my lower belly.
It distracts me enough that the words dissolve, waiting for another time. Maybe when he makes me come again, the stars just within reach. Or after we’re finished, lying lazily in his arms, our heartbeats in sync. I have forever to tell him. This isn’t the end.
The passion rises as he continues to pump into me, filling not only my body but my soul. And when he picks up the pace, my back arching off the bed with how incredible it is, I give myself over to him completely.
“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, pressing into me, over and over. “You’re so good at taking my cock, aren’t you?”
I nod, wetness escaping out of the corner of my eye. I’m too far gone for words.
His teeth graze the tender skin of my neck, then he soothes it with kisses. He praises me, telling me I only have a little more to take and then I’ll come again. That he’ll be right there with me.
A helpless sound escapes me, wanting that so badly, for him to be with me in any way I can get.
“Please,” I beg, not sure what I’m even begging for. I know I just told myself this isn’t the end, but the truth is, it could be. When he leaves again, it might be forever. I can’t do it again. “Please,” I repeat. “Stay with me.”
He burrows his face into the curve of my neck. “I’m with you. I’m here.”
No, that’s not what I mean. Not only for now. For always.
“Fuck, Abby.” His hand moves down to grip my hip, securing me to him. “I’m about to come.”
I exhale, clenching him tightly, absorbing the harsh grunts he makes into my skin, relishing the way his hips jerk against mine. His orgasm washes over me, kicking off a release within me, too, and I sink into the mattress, letting the waves sweep me under.
I’m boneless, drifting, trying my damndest not to let the worry ruin this. Trying to stay in the present moment.
But the tears leak out anyway.
I turn my face into the pillow, unwilling for him to see me like this. Desperate and pathetic. Wanting him more than he wants me. I know he wants me physically. That he missed me. But that doesn’t equate to anything lasting.
He thankfully heads into the bathroom to clean up, not noticing my internal crisis, and when the door shuts, I pull my hair, silently screaming at myself. Why can’t I be satisfied with what I have? I have a hot guy in my bed giving me multiple orgasms and it’s still not enough? I got another night with Grayson. Can’t I be happy with that?
I get up and head to my dresser, pulling on a fresh pair of panties and an oversized shirt as I wipe away all traces of tears.
The bathroom door opens, and he pauses in the doorway. “Clothes on already?” He grabs his boxer briefs off the floor and slides them on, but doesn’t add anything else to his ensemble as he crosses the room and slips his arms around me from behind.
My eyes squeeze shut, basking in the simple pleasure of being in his embrace, his heat surrounding me. And even though every part of me screams not to ruin this moment, I still ask, “When are you leaving?”
His grip tightens briefly before relaxing again. “Sunday. We could spend all day together tomorrow. If you don’t have plans.”
I turn in his arms, hugging him. “I’d love that.” My hands smooth down his bare back, stopping at the waistband of his boxer briefs. “I, um…” I take a deep breath, just going for it. “I have a three-day weekend in a couple of weeks. For Memorial Day. Maybe I could come up and visit you in Seattle?”
I say it as nonchalantly as I can, as if it’s a passing thought. As if it doesn’t mean what it could—the start of something more.
He leans back, surprise on his face. He cups my cheeks and smiles. “Yeah, of course. No one ever visits me.”
“I’d like to.”
His smile gently drops into something more serious, his gaze searching mine. “That would mean a lot to me.” He kisses me, that connection alive and kicking, and I melt into him with relief.
I need to play the long game here. Maybe I can have everything I ever wanted if I’m patient enough. If I give it time to grow. I’ve waited years for Grayson. I can wait a little longer.
Even if I want it all now.