Chapter 29 #2
I lick my lips and swallow. My heart is starting to pick up its pace and I wonder if he can see how the hairs on my arm are standing on edge. It feels like we’re playing a game of chicken waiting to see who’s going to break first.
“Yeah, I think I do,” I say slowly, pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose. “I think we should wrap a few more gifts, first. Don’t you?”
He only looks away to take in the stack of gifts surrounding us. There is no way we’re getting it all done tonight, but even less so if we suddenly find ourselves without any clothes on.
He clears his throat and adjusts how he’s sitting. “Sure, yeah. Might be good to get a few more things wrapped.”
We both start to wrap another gift, then a third.
The tension between us only continues to build every few minutes.
Both of us know what we want but neither of us is willing to break first. After a few more gifts are wrapped and ribbons, tape, and scrap paper start to fill the space around us, I decide I don’t want to wait any longer.
“I feel like that’s enough for now, don’t you?” I say hastily, setting my scissors up on the coffee table that’s behind me.
“Thank Christ, I don’t think I was going to last another minute,” he says just as quickly.
Using a strong arm, he pushes the Christmas cheer that’s splayed out in front of us out of the way and pulls me towards him.
Following his lead, I crawl over to him and meet his lips with mine.
He doesn’t stop pulling me closer until I’m completely in his lap with my legs wrapped around his middle.
Our lips clash into one another’s while his hurried hands explore my back.
Carefully, as if he’s waiting to see if I’ll tell him to stop, he reaches up and undoes the straps of my overalls, flipping them down my back and letting the front bib fall open.
Shivers ripple down my spine when I feel him find the hem of my shirt and slip his calloused hands underneath it.
“So soft,” he mumbles, kissing the side of my neck and turning my insides into pudding.
“What was that?”
“You. You’re so soft. Every part of you. Your hair, your skin.” He pulls away and frames my face with one of his hands. “The way you look at me. There’s a softness to you that I didn’t know I needed until I had it.”
“We all need a little bit of softness in our lives,” I murmur as I gently kiss different spots on his face. His eyes close as I do. First his cheek, followed by his temple, then the corner of his mouth. “Even those of us who have been hardened by the life we’ve had to live through.”
He smiles softly before opening his eyes again. When he looks at me, it’s as if the entire world freezes for a moment and he sees me, right down to the bone. Suddenly, I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything or anyone else in my life. I lean in, both hands on his cheeks, and kiss him hard.
“I want you to know how much I like you,” he says just above a whisper.
His hands are wrapped around my legs and are holding me in place in his lap.
“This isn’t a game to me and I’m not the kind of guy that dates around.
When I’m with a woman, I’m with a woman.
I meant what I said yesterday when I said I was yours. ”
My eyes nervously flit between his and his lips.
“But I need to know if you want to be mine. If you’ll be mine.
Because I’m all in on this if you are.” He leans in close enough for our lips to touch but he doesn’t kiss me.
It feels like someone has set every one of my nerve endings on fire when he whispers against my lips.
“Say the words, doc. I want to hear you say them. I need to.”
I don’t even hesitate in answering. “I want to be yours.”
“Music to my ears, beautiful,” he mutters with a smile before crashing his lips into mine again. When I feel his tongue press into my lips, I happily welcome him in. His hands find my back, crawling up and under my shirt again, quickly finding the clasp of my bra.
“Are you okay if I undo this?” he asks and I can’t help but giggle at his asking for consent. It’s sweet and not something enough men do anymore, especially the older you get.
“I want nothing more.”
In one quick pinch of his fingers, I feel the tension of it release and I shimmy the straps down my arms. Leaning away, I pull my bra out from under my shirt and dangle it out to the side of us. He watches it fall to the floor next to the wrapping paper with a smirk.
“Such a tease,” he growls, both hands coming to my waist underneath my shirt.
His hands slide up my back and pause as he brings them to my ribcage.
I know he’s waiting for a signal that it’s okay to touch me, which I give him with a simple head nod.
Following my lead, he grips one side of me with a hand and brings the other to my breast. I suck in a breath at his touch having forgotten what it feels like.
“Are you okay?” he asks, pulling his hand away.
I bring my hands to the hem of his shirt and he helps me pull it off of him. Glancing at his soft yet firm core, I trace my fingers down his front.
“I’m definitely more than okay, fireman.” I sigh, bringing my lips back to his. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pull him back into me.
Carefully, he leans back, catching us with his hand, and laying us down on the floor.
Amidst needy hands and heavy kisses, we push everything around us out of the way and are now flat on the ground amongst Christmas wrapping paper and toy donations.
I unwrap my legs from around his middle and set my feet on the floor, knees bent up at an angle.
Miles pushes up on one hand and carefully slips my glasses off my face before setting them on the coffee table he pushed out of the way to make space for us.
“Don’t want anything to happen to those,” he says before pausing to look at me.
“What’s that look for?” I ask after a beat.
“I just—you have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen,” he says. “I think I’d die a happy man if I got to catch a glimpse of them every day for the rest of my life.”
And with that he kisses me again, taking my breath away with both his words and his lips.
His hands slip underneath my shirt again and don’t stop until they hit my chest. Reacting to his touch, my hips buck instinctively as his thumbs swipe over my nipples.
His tongue clashes against mine as we both fight to occupy the same space.
A moan escapes me when I buck my hips again and find friction against his pelvis.
“If you keep doing that, doc, I won’t be able to control myself much longer,” he growls between our lips.
“I didn’t say I wanted you to stay in control. I said I wanted to be yours.” I sigh as he grazes my pert nipples again. I can already feel how wet I am and what he’s doing to me already isn’t helping the situation.
“Arms up,” he demands, pushing up on his knees above me and helping me sit up. He strips me of my Christmas shirt and marvels at my bare skin underneath. “Perfect. So fucking perfect.”
Laying me back down, he brings one hand back to my exposed breast and his mouth to the other.
I shudder when he flicks my nipple with his tongue and I lift my hips to press into his again.
The more he turns me on, the more my body craves as much friction as I can get.
My hands rope through his hair and pull hard when he gently nips at my ribcage.
“You’re going to make me finish right here on the floor if you aren’t careful,” I say, but it comes out as more of a plea.
“Ladies first,” he teases and the devilish smirk that makes me weak in the knees is back on his face. “I’ve been dying to find out how wet you are for me. Are you okay if I finger fuck you? Or would you rather I find out how good you taste?”
Sweet mercy who knew getting consent could be so hot?
“I—I want—” I pant but my brain is having a hard time forming words.
“Come on, doc, use your words. I know you’re really good at that.”
Normally I am but when a man has his lips wrapped around your breast and is pressing himself into your center, it makes word formation difficult.
“I want you to finger me,” I beg, eyes rolling to the back of my head.
“Very good, Hanna, very good,” he growls. I love what the vibration of his voice does to me.
I lift my hips and he quickly shimmies the bottom half of my overalls below my knees, taking my underwear with them.
For a second, I feel totally exposed until I look back at him and he isn’t looking anywhere but in my eyes.
There’s a steadiness to his gaze that settles my nerves and reminds me that I’m safe with him.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pull him flush to me again.
As he kisses me, I let the sensation of his fingers trailing down my stomach become my center of focus.
He’s slow and intentional as he creeps his fingers deeper and deeper down my waist and hips.
I want him—his touch, to feel him control me—more than I’ve ever wanted anything else.
When his fingers reach my center, I suck in a breath.
“Fucking. Dripping. Is all of this for me?” he asks, his voice low and gravely. I nod against his forehead as he peers down to where our hips are meeting. “I’m going to have so much fun watching you unravel at my fingertips.”
Any sense of control or ability to think at all goes out the window when he parts my legs and slips a finger inside of me.
I keep my arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him tighter against me while his fingers go to work.
He seems to play me like an instrument that’s been finely tuned for only his hands to play.
Within moments, I can already feel the mind numbing sensation everyone likes to talk about starting to build in my toes.