Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Claire
I wake up with Bryce wrapped around me.
It’s a pretty amazing way to wake up, to be honest. Early morning light shines through the translucent blinds covering the long windows in my bedroom, and I just lie there, enjoying the moment, the feel of his hard body against mine, relaxed in sleep.
I finally got my hands on his magnificent abs last night. Along with the rest of him. I’m still a virgin. Barely.
After we finished on the sofa last night, I kind of needed a shower.
It seemed natural for Bryce to need one as well, and for us to take one together in my large walk-in shower.
A pulse beats between my legs again at the memory of him coming towards me, naked and tanned, his muscular buttocks paler than the rest of him, his magnificent cock in its nest of dark sandy hair.
I sank to my knees, unable to resist taking him in my mouth again as water ran over us, Bryce bracing his hand against the tiles and groaning as I sucked him to climax.
Then he was on me, soaping my breasts, taking my nipples in his mouth and licking each one, leisurely, until I squirmed and squealed, begging for more.
He sat me on the marble-tiled ledge and put his mouth on me, using his tongue and fingers to make me come several times before he was satisfied.
Then, barely able to stand, we wrapped ourselves in towels and tumbled into my bed together.
I don’t even remember falling asleep, just a vague sense of Bryce kissing me, gentle, then nothing more.
I am in heaven.
Luckily, I have the day off today, though I do need to go and get my car.
And then buy condoms and come back here, if I have my way.
The little warning voice in my head is silent for now.
I guess multiple orgasms can do that to a girl.
I run my fingers down the curve of Bryce’s back, along his muscular buttocks, the strong thighs.
To be here with him, to be naked with him feels like the most natural thing in the world, in a way it never was with Simon.
He always felt, somehow, like an intrusion.
I used to send him home as soon as I could whenever he stayed over, wanting my space back.
But Bryce has already become part of this place, despite the fact I’ve only known him a short while. It’s a strange sensation.
After my parents died, I used to try and comfort myself with the idea that they were watching over me, that they wouldn’t steer me wrong.
But then I met Simon and everything did go horribly wrong, and I wondered, in my darkest moments, whether they might have moved on to wherever people go when they die.
But now, lying here with Bryce, feeling the absolute rightness of his presence in my space, I realise it was me who stopped listening, taking Simon back time and time again, even though everything in me protested against it.
Once more I get that sense of destiny, as though Bryce and I have known each other forever, rather than just a short time.
It’s something beyond just being comfortable in his presence; rather, it’s a connection on some deep level. I don’t feel alone anymore.
“Thanks,” I whisper, gazing out at the bright dawn. I drop a kiss on Bryce’s shoulder. He murmurs, sleepily, his green eyes opening to slits. His arm comes out and he rolls onto his side, pulling me to him. We lie there, skin to skin, and I can feel his heart beating. I close my eyes.
I wake again, a little while later. A hand is on my backside, tracing circles across my skin, rippling goosebumps across me.
“Hmmm.” I stretch against him, loving how he feels against me.
“Morning.” Green eyes gaze into mine.
“Morning.” I reach up for his kiss. He’s hard again, and I put my hand on his cock, gripping him gently.
He takes in a sharp breath. His hands come to my breasts, palming my nipples, squeezing them.
“Bryce, I want—”
“Pancakes? Scrambled eggs… ungh.”
The “ungh” is because I’ve wriggled away from him and turned around, taking his cock in my mouth again.
I don’t think I’ll ever tire of doing this.
I’ve always enjoyed giving head, finding it a turn-on to how excited I make the recipient.
Especially when it’s someone as beautiful as Bryce.
He smacks my ass, lightly, and I squeal.
“Oh, so this is how it is? Taking advantage of an innocent man in your bed?” He’s gasping, though, as I play with him.
“I hope you don’t mind,” I say, primly, pausing. “I can stop if you like.”
“Two can play at this game,” he says and, before I can resume, he pulls my hips around, parting my thighs.
I cry out as his tongue laps against me, his finger sliding inside me.
He sucks on my clit, gentle then harder, his finger tracing through my wetness then plunging inside me again.
Pleasure builds, deep in me. I push my hips back, wanting the pressure, the friction of him.
He obliges, his groans vibrating against me as I wrap my lips around his cock once more.
We take each other to climax again, and once we’re done, I collapse on the bed next to him, breathing hard.
He kisses my thigh. “You are one hell of a virgin, Claire,” he pants.
“What?” I turn around so I can see him.
“Hey, this isn’t a bad thing. I just don’t know how you’ve hung on to it so long, looking the way you do and giving head the way you do.”
I sit up, unsure whether or not to be offended. “What do you mean?”
He reaches out, pulling me gently back to him.
Unable to resist, I give in and lie down next to him, snuggling into his warmth.
His free hand moves on my skin, gently caressing me.
“I only mean, virgin is a pretty technical term at the moment, isn’t it?
You’ve had so many orgasms in the past twelve hours I’ve lost count.
And you’ve given me plenty, as well.” He kisses me. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”
“It wouldn’t even be a technical term if you’d let me have my way last night.”
“We need to get condoms. And then, when we do, I am going to lay you down on that big table of yours in front of the window. And I am going to kiss and lick and finger you until you’re dripping wet and then, when you’re ready, I’ll fuck you. Properly. How do you feel about that?”
I feel pretty damn turned on, if I’m honest. “When can we leave?” I say, breathless.
“Leave?”
“To go to the shops.”
He laughs, shaking against me. I trace my hand down his abs, running my fingers lightly through the nest of hair at his groin. “I wasn’t joking.”
He hugs me closer, kissing me again. “I’m going to have a shower, and then cook us some breakfast in that nice kitchen of yours. And we can go out after that. Besides,” he adds, over my protests, “the shops aren’t open yet, anyway.”
I giggle as I watch him walk into the ensuite, admiring the rippling muscles in his back. I grab my pillow, rolling over and holding it against me.
This is absolute madness. And I love it.
Bryce
Claire is beyond anything I could have ever imagined.
Aside from the brain-melting blow jobs, the fact that she’s still a virgin has blown my mind. I’m glad, in some small petty part of myself, that Simon never got to experience that with her. I want her first time to be special, something she enjoys, with someone who cares about her.
Because I do care about her. I’m utterly smitten, I realise. This girl has turned my life upside down, and I couldn’t be happier. The fact that she also has a magnificent set of tits and tastes like flowers is just a bonus, as far as I see it.
I wander into her kitchen, grinning when I spot our still-full coffee cups from the night before.
I start opening cupboards and drawers until I find what I need.
There’s an integrated fridge filled with food; I dig around for cheese, eggs and bacon, then pull a loaf of bread from the bread bin in the walk-in pantry.
I’m struck once again by how beautiful this place is, how well designed, with every detail carefully thought out.
It must have been heartbreaking for Claire to lose her parents for a lot of reasons, but one of them has to be the fact that they never got to have their dream of living here.
I start whisking eggs together in a bowl, then turn the stovetop on and put a frying pan over the heat. I drop in some bacon, then slice tomatoes. Toast is on the go, as is fresh coffee, all the makings of a top breakfast.
“This smells good.”
I turn around. Claire wanders in barefoot, looking as fresh as a fucking daisy, still towelling her damp hair.
She drops the towel over a chair and runs her hands through it, shaking out the long waves.
She’s stunning, even with her face scrubbed clean of make-up.
She’s wearing another little dress, red and white check with a nipped-in waist that makes her tits look even bigger.
I want to flip up the skirt and bury my face in her.
“It’s going to taste even better.” I almost add, like you, but if we go down that path again, we’ll never get out of here.
“I’m starving,” she says. “Must be all the sleep I got last night.” She shoots me a sparkling glance, then starts laying out placemats and cutlery on the long table.
“Yes, it was very restful. Quiet, too. Apart from some strange gasping noises I heard.”
She throws a balled-up napkin at me. I dodge, laughing, catching it in my hand before it ends up on the stove.
“I don’t know what you mean.” She’s giggling, pink on her cheekbones.
I leave the stove, coming up behind her as she bends over to reach for something. I press against her backside and she straightens up, turning in my arms.
I kiss her, because it’s impossible not to. “I was thinking, how about we eat outside? It’s a beautiful morning.”
“All right,” she says, flushed and rosy from my kisses. “And then we go to the shops.”