Chapter 28
28
JOHNNY
I know she heard me because she sways in my grasp, her small fingers burying themselves in my shirt. Her touch is hot, burning through my clothes. My blood rushes too close to the surface, making everything overly sensitive.
I’m one curl of her fingers away from tossing her over my shoulder and locking her inside my house for the next four to six business days. Shit, even that may not be enough time. Four to six months, then.
“How could you wish for someone you had never met?” she asks, sounding so damn dainty.
“I didn’t know I was wishin’ for you. Not yet. I was just a kid who was forced to sit on the ground in front of his sisters’ beds and listen to the fairy tales my moms read them every night. They always got to my books after, but it was hard not to listen to their stories, even if I tried to pretend I wasn’t. The princesses and Prince Charmings and their true loves’ kisses.
“I pictured myself as a prince more often than I did a race car driver or MMA fighter like my friends at school. Of course, I never told them that. They’d have strung me up a flagpole by my underwear if I did. I only told my moms about it. They told me that I could be the prince or the princess or the fucking frog if I wanted to. But I was adamant on which role I wanted, and everyone knew it.”
I bump her nose with mine, desperate to touch her more but not ready to take her mouth just yet. If I do, there will be no more talking.
“I wanted to be the prince. The one with the sword and armour that weighed a million pounds. A prince that sought out a princess. Not a damsel in distress or a sleeping beauty. A princess made of steel and iron that could help carry the weight of his armour if it grew too heavy for him. One that loved jokes, especially his, and could laugh with him. A princess that knew how to stand up for herself but allowed him to do so on her behalf when things got too rough. Who could support him yet knock him down a few pegs if he was thinking out of his ass.
“That’s what I wished for every night after I was tucked into bed, my moms leaving my curtains open so I could see the sky. See the stars as they shot across it.”
I cup her cheek in my hand and simply hold it, feeling the weight of it and how right it feels to touch her this way. Because that’s what it is. Right.
She tips her head back enough to look at the star-flecked sky, all so similar to the one from my memories. “I’ve never considered myself a princess before.”
“What about a dream come true instead?”
“That’s even less likely.”
“Look at me,” I murmur, guiding her chin down before brushing our mouths together. “That’s what you are to me. It’s why I was so drawn to you that first night and why I haven’t been able to stay away from you since. I’m a believer in fate and every cliché, cheesy thing that’s ever existed, and I’m not ashamed of it. It’s who I am on a fundamental level.”
“I love who you are, Johnny. But can you love who I am? Beyond everything you’ve just told me? Can you love my bitterness and social anxiety? My baggage? ”
I glide my tongue along her bottom lip, taking a single taste. “What would you do if I said I already do?”
There’s no verbal response. Only her mouth on mine and nails clawing at my clothes.
“Inside,” I order absent-mindedly, too concerned with the sensation of her hands on me, tugging and pulling to stay out here.
The feel of her tearing open my shirt has a near savage sound escaping me. Her eyes are wide as she stares up at me, deep red blotches covering her cheeks. I puff out a breath and shake my head, having had enough of that embarrassment in her gaze.
In one quick move, I take both of her wrists and encourage her to tear the fucking shirt all the way in half. Her pupils blow as she focuses on my chest, inch after inch becoming exposed as we rip the fabric clean down the centre. The moment I release her, she’s pressing her palms to my abs, her fingers tracing the dip between each one, counting them.
She doesn’t so much as blink when I lead us back toward the house. There’s no taking her attention off her task right now. Not yet. For now, she can explore.
There won’t be much chance for her to do so in a few minutes.
“Step up.” I breathe the demand when we stop in front of the single step to the front door. She does as she’s told, blinking up at me in a daze. “Good girl.”
Pleasure contorts her features, and I throb in my jeans, tucking that piece of information away for later.
I type in the code for the front door and kick it shut behind us before guiding us inside the dark house. Bypassing the lights, I take the same route I always do, down the hallway and to the right toward my bedroom.
“Need to make good on my promise,” I tell her, leaning down to kiss her hard.
She sighs into my mouth, opening up for me to dive in. My ears fill with the sound of my blood pumping as I spin us inside my room and press her to the wall. It takes a moment for my vision to adjust to the dark, but finally, I can make out her features.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” I whisper, grabbing her hands and threading our fingers before lifting them above her head, opening her up to me. “I want to touch you.”
“Where?” she asks, her hips lifting in search of something between them. I grit my jaw and keep myself still.
“Everywhere. I want to strip you bare and trace every inch of your body with my tongue. I won’t stop until I have you memorized. Until I know I’ll be able to taste you in my dreams.”
“You keep teasing me.”
“I know, baby, I know. Let me make it up to you.”
Her chin jerks in approval, and then I’m lifting her shirt over her head. My eyes nearly cross at the picture she makes in front of me. Chest heaving, big tits trapped within the cups of a bra. Her nipples are hard, stabbing through the lace. I drag my thumb across one, hearing the hitch in her breathing before doing it again, my touch feather light.
“Are they sensitive, Aurora?” I ask, the sound of my voice deep, a near grunt.
“Yes,” she sighs.
Reaching around her back, I unclasp the bra, my thumb sweeping over her second nipple just once. She arches toward me, and the straps droop down her shoulders. Then I’m there guiding them the rest of the way, my attention focused on the slow fall of the cups as more and more of her breasts are exposed. A groan stalls in my throat once it falls to the ground, her chest bare.
I’m on my knees in an instant, falling hard enough they ache with the force. Grabbing her tit, I squeeze it slightly and guide it toward my mouth before wrapping my lips around her hard nipple and sucking. She gasps, hands swiping at my hat and sending it sailing through the room before finding my shoulders. I fill my hand with her other breast and squeeze it just a bit harder, feeling the hard jab of her nipple against my palm.
I become enamoured with tasting her chest, licking and sucking and even teasing her nipple with my teeth to see if she likes it. She cries out when I give it a small bite, and I grin like a fucking fool into her skin in response.
I’m harder than I’ve ever been in my life, my cock pulsing in my jeans. Every shift of my hips makes me shudder. I’m on a fucking hair trigger, and I refuse to come in my pants like a teenage boy.
Dropping a hand, I pop my jeans open and shove them down my hips just enough to alleviate some of the pressure. When I glance back up, Rory’s eyes are trained on my crotch, those huge black pupils half-covered as her eyelids droop.
“I’m so fucking hard for you,” I admit weakly, plucking at her jeans now, first the button and then the zipper. “I need to taste your pussy.”
She watches, her head tipped forward to get a closer view as I start sliding her jeans down, the band of her panties becoming visible. I nearly blow right then and there at the first sight of her lace-clad slit. Leaning forward, I press my mouth between her thighs and drag a line up the centre of her panties with my tongue before sucking the fabric between my lips.
I groan at my first taste of her pussy, a switch in my brain flicking on as I tug on the panties, wanting them out of my fucking way.
“Take my jeans the rest of the way off, Johnny.”
I only half hear the demand, but I follow it without a second thought. Her jeans go flying across the room once I’ve helped her step out of them, leaving her only in those panties I want to tear to shreds with my teeth.
“Please, Rory. Please, can I lick your pussy?” I beg, every breath I take burning without her on my tongue.
“Get on the bed first. You’re not the only one of us who wants a taste. ”
“Fuck yes,” I hiss before standing and taking her hand, bringing her to the edge of the bed.
Two hands pushing on my chest have me falling back, the mattress sinking beneath my weight. She takes my jeans off with more grace than I had with hers.
“Up. All the way to the headboard.”
I move faster than I’ve ever moved before, shoving myself up the mattress. Only when I’m straining my neck to keep her in my sight does she follow me, straddling my lap, her centre finding a home over my boxer-covered cock.
One tiny grind down on me and I’m fisting my hands in her hair, dragging her mouth to mine. One kiss and I’m electrified, desperate for more, more, more. She parts my lips with her tongue before nipping at them, leaving them swollen.
“Is this the taste you wanted?” I ask.
Hands curled in the comforter on either side of my head, she lowers herself and presses down before dragging her pussy up my aching length. My briefs are wet and sticky, precum having seeped through the material. It’s not enough, though. I want them goddamn soaked with her.
“No,” she says on a shaking, pleasured exhale.
“Me either.”
Sitting up, she slides her hands over my shoulders and pecs, those smooth nails leaving white lines on my skin as she touches me everywhere available to her. My stomach tenses when her nails move lower, trailing along the dark hair leading from my belly button to below the band of my briefs. They stall there, running back and forth instead of drifting lower.
She bends, pressing her lips to my abs and peppering kisses all over before her tongue darts out, swiping along each individual ridge. I moan, shuddering at the sensation.
“Please,” I murmur, fighting back every impulse to thrust up against her, desperate for friction.
“Please what?” The question skitters along my wet, sensitive skin .
“Please, touch me. Take my cock out and wrap your hand around it. Then park that sweet pussy over my mouth and let me drown in it. Please, Aurora. I need it. Please.”
My words make her shake and grind down hard on my thigh.
“Yeah, baby. You need it just as bad, don’t you? Need me deep in your throat, my cum filling your mouth so full it drips down your chin. That’s what I want. What I fucking need. Please , give it to me. To us?—”
She moves so fucking quickly I’m missing my last chance to fill my lungs before her pussy hangs over my mouth, making it water. I tug her panties to the side before she has a chance to, freeing up her hands to tug my cock free instead.
“What a pretty pussy, baby,” I whisper, staring at the sight before me. Every swollen, pink inch of her slit.
Her whine fills the room the moment I grip her ass in my hands and pull her onto my waiting tongue. I bury my moan inside of her as I lick from bottom to top, collecting every drop of arousal waiting for me.
I suck on her lips before drinking from the fucking source and finding her clit, circling it just once.
Hot breath fans over my cock, making my thighs tense. She teases me, keeping her mouth above the tip, so close yet too far to feel the wet warmth of it. I curl my toes, keeping from burying myself in her throat.
Turning my attention back to the clit beneath my tongue, I run a few testing strokes over it, grinning when she presses down in response, seeking out more of the sensation. Squeezing the soft flesh in my hands, I urge her forward an inch as I begin fucking her with my tongue.
“Oh, fuck yes,” I spit at the first stroke of her tongue along my shaft.
She repeats the motion three times before slipping her tongue along the underside of the tip and then running it over the precum I know keeps leaking .
I wish I could see her right now as she slowly takes me into her mouth. Those pink lips must be straining to wrap around my thickness. She takes more into her mouth, her tongue flat on the downward glide before swirling around the tip on the way up. Wrapping a fist around the rest of my shaft, she uses her spit to lube it up before pumping in time with her mouth.
I adjust her so I can ask, “Can you take it farther?”
She hums, the vibrations travelling to my fucking balls before they’re being gripped in a small hand. I lose control, thrusting up when she takes me deeper into her mouth. Her following gag pierces through the haze of pleasure as I try to sit up.
“Lay the fuck down, Johnny. Let me gag,” she snaps before taking me deep again, this time gagging louder.
“Fucking shit, Rory. You want to gag? Then gag like a good girl,” I demand.
With a thrust upward, I force almost the entire length of me into her mouth and down her throat. She tightens around my cock, taking me deep as my vision darkens at the corners, and I pull her clit into my mouth, sucking hard. I alternate between flicking and sucking, driven to near madness as her moans grow in volume, engraining themselves in my mind.
I want to make her come. Need to make her come. I’m far too close already to make her wait. I’ll bring her there first, like I always will. Always her first, in the bedroom and out of it.
With a nip at her swollen clit, I get what I want. Thighs quivering, she collapses on my face, and I shove my tongue inside of her, taking my reward as it flows like honey. I moan, swatting at her ass before I can think better of it.
“Yes, Johnny, yes. Oh . . .” she whines, snapping her legs tight to my ears as she rides the waves of her orgasm.
She bucks against my tongue, her thighs relaxing before I let her move off my face. I tuck my arm behind my head and leave my other resting possessively on the curve of her ass as she sits beside my head, mouth still suctioned around my shaft.
“You have no idea how beautiful you are, Rory,” I rasp, straining my eyes to keep them from rolling back. “Not just like this. Always .”
She’s already collected her own hair, tossing it over her opposite shoulder so I can watch her work my cock, each downward glide sending me further down her tight throat.
“Ready to drink me down, Rory?” I ask, so out of my mind I don’t care that I sound like a fucking beast right now.
She nods, moaning in answer. Her fist works in time with her mouth while the other plays with my balls as they draw up tight, my groin burning with the need to come. One more squeeze of her throat and I’m there, ropes of cum filling her mouth.
“Swallow it all,” I hiss, arching my neck and thrusting up and deep. “Just like that. Good girl. So fucking good, Rory. So good .”
When she pops up for air, she’s gasping, and I’m waiting, collecting her in my arms and tugging her up my body until she’s splayed over me. Burying her face in my neck, she sucks in lungfuls of air at the same pace I do. My legs quiver with aftershocks. My head is spacey, the only thing I see being the woman in my arms.
“Are you okay?” I ask, swiping damp hair off her forehead.
“Yes. Are you?”
I laugh, but it’s a tired, blissed-out sound. “Very.”
With a shaky hand, I reach over the edge of the bed for the discarded blanket and shake it out over her. She makes a quiet sound of appreciation while kissing my collarbone.
“You’re mine now,” I declare.
“That so?”
“That’s fucking so.”
She giggles. Yeah , giggles . “Is this an ‘I lick it and it’s mine’ situation?”
“Among other things.”
“Who am I to argue with that reasoning?”
She sounds so tired, and it makes me smile. I want to bottle up the blissful tone of her voice right now. It fits her, but not nearly as much as her usual stern, determined rasp. I love them both, and I’d be happy hearing them both for a long time to come.
“Close your eyes for a minute,” I whisper, drawing lines up and down her back as my eyes close and her breath begins to even out.
She rubs her cheek on my chest. “Just for a minute.”
“Mmhmm. Minute,” I mumble.
Neither of us speaks after that.