Chapter 11
Prudence
My entire body feels flushed and sticky, buzzing with an unfamiliar sort of urgency. Something has to happen, it has to happen right now, but I’m not sure what exactly it is that I want.
Only that Rowley can’t leave. He must stay here.
“Breathe for me, sweetheart,” he says, voice so gentle, I immediately do as he says. I feel safe. He said he’ll take care of me, and I believe him.
“That’s it. Take another deep breath. Mmm, nice, isn’t it? There you go. Feel how soft your body is? You feel so much more when you’re relaxed.”
I’m about to say that yes, it feels good, when his lips press to the side of my neck in a hot, open-mouthed kiss.
I cry out, all muscles instantly tensing as sensation rips through me in scalding waves.
Tingles break down my skin. It’s like electricity, yet worse, because it pulses deep in my body and cannot be turned off.
He finishes the kiss with a hot, languorous lick, and a whiny, animalistic sound pulls out of my throat. I don’t have time to be embarrassed about it, because he answers in kind, a deep, grating groan vibrating against my wet skin where his lips press again.
It’s okay, then. He makes sounds, too.
“That was beautiful,” he says, hot breath fanning my nape when he slides his lips to another spot. “I love that sound, baby. I love to hear how much you enjoy it, so don’t hold back. Do whatever feels good, whatever you want.”
He sucks on my skin, and a shot of heat sizzles down my spine, settling low in my belly. I buck against him with a sharp moan, and he grabs my hip and holds it, pressing himself to me.
And I have no comparison, no way of telling if I’m right unless I see it, but I have a strong suspicion he didn’t lie when he said he was a grower.
It feels like he has grown. Substantially. And all that growth is pressed right between my butt cheeks.
“Damn, you’re hot,” he breathes, moving his lips against the ridges of my vertebrae.
“If this wasn’t your first time, I’d pull down your shorts and fuck you hard.
You have no idea how much control it takes to hold back, because you drive me crazy.
But I’ll be patient. I’ll be good to you, baby. I promise.”
Hot shivers race down my back when I imagine it, my clothes not even off, just tangled between my legs, and him inside me, stretching me, taking everything because he wants me so much. My pussy throbs, and I gasp when I realize how wet and hot it feels between my legs.
“You like that, don’t you?” he asks, a low, gritty note in his voice. “You like me talking, baby? Tell me.”
It’s hard to get the words out. I’m so focused on my body, so tangled in all the shocking sensations, it’s as if language has become completely unavailable. I clear my throat, take a deep breath, and manage to hum a confirmation.
“And you don’t like talking at all, I see.” He sounds gleeful and triumphant, as if my inability to speak is something to be proud of. “But if there’s anything you don’t like or feel worried about, anything at all, you’ll have to tell me. Say yes so I know you understand.”
“Yes.”
He moves his hips against my butt with a low, hissing sound of pleasure.
His big hand moves up my hip, over my ribs, and settles on my breast. I gasp as he kneads my flesh gently, his body moving in smooth, easy motions.
It’s like he’s already fucking me, yet not.
My pussy squeezes on its own, an involuntary Kegel I had no idea I was capable of.
His thumb settles on my nipple and circles it through the soft fabric of my camisole.
“Oh God,” I mumble, my eyes squeezing shut as pleasure zings down my nerves, settling right in my clit.
He hums in satisfaction, plucking at my nipple as sensation rises within me like a tide, growing more and more pressing until I squirm against him, barely able to withstand it.
Just when I think I’m unable to take any more, he stops and just holds my sensitive breast, his hand warm and possessive. I release a shaky sigh of relief.
“Here, baby. Have some water.”
He puts a bottle I keep on my nightstand in my hand, and I realize I’m parched. I don’t look at him as I sit up clumsily and drink, swishing the water in my mouth. When I’m done, Rowley gulps down the rest, then pushes me gently to lie on my back.
I gasp when he settles on top of me, his face right there, pleased yet serious, eyes hooded. He’s touched and kissed me intimately, yet it’s the first time that I see his face this morning.
Somehow, it makes it all so much more real. It’s almost… unbearable. It was easy enough when I didn’t look into his eyes, but now, his gaze drives it home how close we are.
A man and a woman in bed together. I can’t believe it’s happening to me.
“Hey,” he says softly. “You look beautiful in the morning.”
I press my lips together, searching his face for the lie, because I don’t think it’s true. My hair is probably disheveled, eyes puffy from crying last night. But his eyes are clear, expression soft and admiring, and I find no signs of deceit.
“I’m going to kiss you properly,” he says, running his thumb over my cheek. “Okay?”
I nod, a pure reflex of my overwrought, buzzing nerves. He smiles, caressing my face once more, and leans in.
The first time he kissed me, it was over before I got my bearings. Now, he takes his time, and it’s so much more. I feel his weight, substantial yet not crushing, because he leans on his forearms as his mouth moves over mine, patient and exploring.
When his tongue slicks inside, I gasp and open wider, and then it’s as if the intimate, secret knowledge of what to do pours into me right along with his breath.
My hands come up to hold on to his shoulders, and I kiss him back, mouth soft and seeking, tongue shy but brave.
He hums with pleasure and comes deeper, his curious, possessive flesh inside me, and I lick his tongue back in welcome.
It’s messy from there. His hands frame my face, holding me securely, and his legs press and twist, opening my knees, until suddenly, hardness settles against my core, and he groans deep in his throat, still kissing me with ravenous greed.
His hips move, urging me to open wider, nudging my clit through my flimsy shorts.
I can’t control the shaking. My body is on fire, nerves combusting and exploding as new pathways burn into my brain, patterns of need and satisfaction, of softness and hardness and rocking, of this man’s smell and taste, and the warmth of his hands.
My thoughts scatter, dizziness settling in as I kiss him, needing more now that I know what I’m doing. I don’t have enough oxygen to ponder whether my choice is wise and how hurt I’ll be after this is all over. There’s only enough to feel and move right this second, and the next, and the next.
“Fuck, I’ve never felt like this,” he groans, sounding like he’s in pain as his fingers twitch against my face, his erection grinding into me in a way that’s agonizing and so deeply right.
I arch into him, and he moans, uninhibited and erotic as we try to push inside each other despite our clothes blocking the way. Mine are soaked through.
The kiss stops with a wet sound, and he presses his forehead to mine, breathing hard like he’s just run a race.
I can’t hold my hands still, so I let them roam his back, bowed until his vertebrae stick out.
He has to curve himself over me like this so that his mouth can settle against mine while his erection seeks my core.
I map the broad planes of his back through his shirt, muscles tight and trembling with his rapid breaths, the heat of his skin sliding into the gaps between my fingers.
When he pulls back and looks at me, mouth loose, eyes dark and crazed, I nod frantically.
I agree to it all, anything and everything, and he doesn’t even have to ask.
He nods back. “Yeah? Please? Baby. Yes. I can do it. I can go slow. Okay? Yes?”
I keep nodding until he shakes himself off with a controlled exhale and nods once more, like a promise.
“Okay.”
The decision is made, but he doesn’t move, eyes intent as they slide over my face. I breathe fast, a bit nervous and a whole lot excited. At last, he groans and shakes his head.
“God, you’re beautiful.”
Pleasure in the pit of my stomach mixes with astonishment. He is wretched, barely holding on to sanity. And it’s because of me. Because he wants me so much.
“Good. I’ll be good,” he mutters to himself as if in delirium. “Yeah. I can handle it.”
I have no time to answer because he explodes into action, hands trembling just slightly, sliding my camisole straps down my shoulders, the fabric stroking my hard nipples as it falls lower to gather around my stomach. He stops when my breasts are bared and just stares, breathing hard.
“Beautiful,” he says again. “Gorgeous. Here.”
I arch into him when his mouth sucks onto my nipple, hot tongue teasing me until I groan with pleasure.
My legs kick out, searching for purchase, and he grabs my hips and presses them into the mattress, feasting on my breasts, torturing one until it’s almost too much and moving onto the other.
I writhe in helpless pleasure that has no peak and no end.
“Good,” he says, pulling away, eyes unfocused as they trail over my flushed chest. “Let’s see now. Show me how wet you are. Open your legs, lovely thing.”
My heart stutters, faster and faster. He doesn’t wait for me to move.
Impatient fingers hook under elastic, and he pulls my shorts down together with my panties.
Broad hands settle on my knees and pull them wider apart.
His breaths grow shallower, a burnished flush staining his cheeks.
I clench my hands into fists and wait, exposed and needing him very much.
“Gorgeous,” he breathes after a lengthy pause, during which he doesn’t blink even once. “So pretty. I’m gonna touch you. Don’t be afraid.”
I shake my head helplessly because yes, that’s exactly what I need right now. To touch. To connect.
But he takes his time. His knuckles barely brush the dark hair covering my mound, and still, I jerk, the lightness of the touch almost violent when I expect a more direct caress.
He does it again, leaning closer, eyes mesmerized.
I want to giggle, because it seems ridiculous. I don’t understand the fascination.
Though, maybe I would—if he showed me his.
“You’re still dressed,” I choke out, reproachful.
He nods distractedly. “A minute, baby. Just give me a minute.”