Chapter 39 #2
My tights move to my ankles next. Darren lifts my right foot and takes the nylon off before moving to the left. Once they’ve joined his shirt on the floor, he moves between my legs and kisses each thigh. His mustache scrapes at my skin, bringing with it a sensation new to us.
I glance up at the ceiling when he loops my leg around his waist and brings his face to my centre. The puff of his breath across my panties is overwhelming in the best way. I’m not used to the sensation anymore.
“Darren, you don’t have to be . . .” I start .
He steals every thought from my mind once he mouths something I don’t recognize against my panties.
My vision disappears when his mouth closes over my clit and sucks.
Leg jerking where he’s got it around his side, I let loose a desperate noise that I think encourages the growl-like sound in his throat.
“Don’t have to be what?” he asks, digging his teeth into the lace and pulling. The rip that follows is the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard. Suddenly, I’m bared for him. “On my knees? It’s the only place I should be, Elle. The only fucking one.”
“I haven’t done this in a while,” I rush out, my lungs constricting around every quick inhale I manage. “I’m not sure I can come like this anymore.”
Two fingers slide over my slit before they spread me. Darren grits his teeth and presses the pad of his thumb against my clit, rubbing it softly. “If it works when you do it, it will for me.”
“Oh, my God.”
“Stop thinking and let me make you come, baby.”
I listen. It’s too hard to think when he sinks a finger inside of me, anyway.
The pressure of his thumb is perfect as he starts flicking his wrist, his finger spearing into me at a slow, consistent pace.
My lip burns from how deeply my teeth are buried, but I can’t remove them without risking screaming as the zaps of pleasure create a wet mess between my legs.
“You’re perfect,” he declares, almost like a prayer.
The wet slap of his palm meeting my swollen pussy with every glide of his finger heightens the intensity. I’m holding on to the cushion as I thrust against his hand, my muscles quivering. The ring—my ring—slides back and forth across his chest as he moves, increasing the intimacy of this moment.
“I sound . . .” I whimper, leaning forward on the couch to try and see us better.
It’s a desire that I’ve never had before.
The intense need to watch us together, as if that’ll make it feel real instead of like a dream.
Darren doesn’t question what I’m doing. He helps me instead, reaching with his other hand to support my body as I hold myself up and watch him add a second finger.
The sight of us together is enough to make me come, but I shake my head, refusing.
“Nice and slick for me? Yeah, baby. You are. Don’t fight it. It’s not the only time,” he bites out, the gleam in his eyes downright feral as my arousal slips down his wrist. “I have a decade of missed time to make up for, so get me fucking wet and come.”
“Not yet!” I cry, digging my nails deep into his shoulder.
“Pull the top of your dress down.”
It’s hard in this position, but he keeps me in the same upright hold as I stop supporting myself and rip at my dress. I shove it down beneath my breasts before doing the same with my bra, needing that off too. My nipples harden into painful peaks, and I pinch one before I can stop myself.
“Fuck yes,” Darren spits, low and dirty. His pupils expand, eating at the remaining brown before his body shakes and his thumb slips from my clit. “Jesus fucking Christ, baby. Come for me.”
His desperation is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
The pleasure spreading across his face draws out my orgasm like it knew exactly where I’d shoved it away, and I give him what he wants.
I don’t know if I scream or cry or shout because the world goes black as I reach a release I haven’t had in . . . maybe ever.
Falling back into my body, I heave in a lungful of air and slouch into the couch. I’m sensitive with my muscles twitching and even a little sore as I focus my eyes on the man now bent over me, my ring swaying where it hangs.
“I’ll be right back,” he murmurs, kissing my forehead.
I reach for his hand, stopping him. “Where are you going?”
A bashful smile spreads his lips. “To change my pants.”
“Did I . . . get them dirty?”
I’ve never squirted before, but at one time, I’d spent an entire evening trying to learn how. I was never successful, but Darren can do things with my body that I simply have never been able to. It wouldn’t surprise me all that much if he accomplished that tonight.
“No. That was all me.”
My eyes bulge as I drop them to his crotch and spot the wet patch. “Oh.”
“That’s a first for me. I didn’t even come in my pants when we were teenagers dry riding in the back seat of my car.”
“I’d have remembered if you had.”
He chuckles, bending down to kiss my lips this time. “I won’t be long. Then, I’ll heat up your chicken.”
“Okay,” I agree softly.
There’s a very obvious drop in my stomach when he leaves the room, and I know exactly what that means. I miss him already, a.k.a. I’m so screwed.