12. Hudson
Chapter 12
Hudson
I t’s the flicker of a bright light, burning behind my eyelids, that makes me stir.
Then the gentle shake of my shoulder.
“Mh?” I grumble, turning my cheek further into the pillow beneath my head. After everything that had gone on tonight, it had taken me a lot longer than usual to fall asleep. I’d lain awake, my feet hanging over the edge of Giselle’s sofa, desperately straining my ears to hear her behind her bedroom door. For half an hour or so, minutes after she’d disappeared, I catalogued the sound of pattering footsteps moving about, the glide of a drawer being opened and then shut again, the rustle of curtains being pulled over the window and then… silence.
Through the thin paned glass of her living room window, I could still hear London and beyond – the monotonous hum of a car engine driving past, the beep of a horn, the whirring of a car alarm – until eventually, I must have passed out from sheer bodily exhaustion.
“Hudson?”
I smack my lips together.
Another shake. “Hudson.”
I crack my lids open at the sound of my name, crumbs of sleep dust coating the line of my lashes.
“You don’t look very comfortable.” Giselle stands just off the side of the sofa, her unbound hair hanging in a sheet between us. My gaze dips down her frame noticing the large navy coloured t-shirt she wears, the hem of which barely grazes her mid-thigh. The rest of her long legs are bare, except for a pair of fluffy white socks, bunched up around either of her ankles.
Beneath my gaze, I see Giselle shiver, although that could be that her apartment is fucking freezing cold. Something I’m only realising now I’m awake, nothing but a thin blanket to keep my body warm.
Yawning deeply, I shake my head. “It’s fine. I’ve slept in worst places.”
She pauses, staying silent, until nimble fingertips reach for my own. “Come to bed, Hudson.”
I’m not sure if I’ve heard her right, but then the tug on my arm becomes more insistent, pulling me to stand.
Half asleep and in just my black boxers, I watch through half lidded eyes as Giselle switches off the lamp that had awoken me, plunging us in darkness, and begins to pull me down the hallway and into her bedroom.
The scent of Giselle assaults my senses, as does the feel of soft sheets beneath my hands as she leads me to her bed. To the place she sleeps, fucks, makes herself cum in…
“No funny business,” she warns, but I couldn’t even if I wanted too, my eyes are too heavy, my body moving too slow and my brain, my brain is still hung up on her accusation from our fight.
“Sleeping with someone isn’t as simple for me as it is for you, Hudson.”
“And if I’m not ready…then what?”
God, the way she’d asked me that question, her voice the softest I’d ever heard it, as if she was afraid of my answer.
Who the fuck had put that seed of doubt in her mind that it isn’t okay to go at your own pace in life?
Whoever the dickhead is, my fist aches to connect with his fucking face.
Beneath the soft duvet, I lay my head on the pillow beside Giselle’s. She turns her body away from me to lay on her side, but even though we’re only inches apart from touching each other, it still feels like too much.
Reaching out my arm, I band it around her waist, her large t-shirt scrunching up under my fingers. In one fluid motion, I drag her along the mattress, erasing the space between us until she sits, oh so prettily, in the cradle of my thighs.
Lying in Giselle’s bed, sleep claims me a lot easier than it had on the sofa. Although I think it has less to do with where I’m sleeping, and more with the girl I finally have in my arms.
C old air nips at my toes; the sensation tickling at the edge of my consciousness.
I drag my foot back under the blanket, reaching out for the body beside mine in an attempt to fuse together our body heat.
Warm breath dots the skin of my collarbone, a strand of hair lays across my cheek, a small hand lays claim to my abdomen, all five fingers stretched out as if it’s possible to keep me there.
I press my hips upward against her soft body, cupping the bare upper thigh that sits high on my waistline.
We’re wrapped together and yet it still isn’t enough to calm me.
Giselle’s breathing changes, the once rhythmic rise and fall of her ribcage becoming stuttered. She tenses and I hold my own breath, waiting for her to pull away, only for the sheet to rustle and for her to tuck herself further under my chin.
“Morning,” I croak, my voice gritty from sleep.
“Good morning, Hudson.”
“Did you sleep well?”
Giselle nods, two of her fingertips coming up to trace an old tattoo I have inked across my heart space. “Did you?”
“Best sleep I’ve had in a while,” I chuckle, rubbing the pad of my thumb along the inside ligament of her knee. “It’s going to be hard to get rid of me, now I know how comfortable your bed is, Gee.”
Slowly, as if she’s moving through molasses, Giselle props herself up on one elbow to look down at me. Her facial features are schooled much too serious for a Sunday morning.
“This can only be a one-time thing, Hudson.”
I stare back at her, cataloguing the thick lashes framing her electric blue eyes, the thin length of her Romanesque nose, the pretty pout of her lips.
Peeling my hand from her body, I tuck a strand of her unbound hair behind her ear. I don’t want to agree, but Giselle is sure to bolt like a deer staring down the barrel of a gun if I don’t.
“Okay,” I whisper lowly, watching as Giselle’s eyes flutter shut and the beauty mark beneath her lid twitches.
“You want some breakfast?”
A slice of azure blue peers back at me. “I’m not usually a breakfast type of gal.”
I shake my head and click my tongue. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, Giselle.”
“I know… but I’d much rather roll around in bed for an hour longer, than be up and making breakfast, wouldn’t you?”
“If I was rolling around in bed with you, then yes.”
Giselle ducks her head but it doesn’t stop me from being able to see the pink blush staining her cheeks. Who knew that under all that hard exterior she portrays, would be something soft that blushes at a simple compliment.
“Can I ask you a question?”
Bending my right arm, I tuck it behind my head, resting the weight of my skull on the meat of my toned bicep. “Sure. Ask away.”
“If you could have anything at all as your birthday wish, what would it be?”
I hardly need to think about my answer. It’s obvious.
“You.”
Giselle’s eyes rise into her hairline. “Me?”
I nod, keeping my eyes locked on hers. “I’d ask for a kiss.”
“A kiss?”
The corners of my lips curl upwards. “Are you just going to repeat everything I say?”
Silently, Giselle shakes her head, her lids falling to half-mast. She flicks her eyes down to my lips and then back up, placing the palm of her hand in the centre of my bare chest.
It’s not often I wish I knew what someone was thinking, usually I’d just ask them outright. But I get the feeling if I asked Giselle now, it would scare her off, so no matter how much I wanted to ask, I stay quiet.
I watch, with intrigue, through half-lidded eyes of my own, holding my breath as Giselle lowers her face closer and closer to mine until we’re only a hairsbreadth apart.
“Why should I kiss you, Hudson?”
“Because I want you.”
“Is that the only reason?”
A smirk crawls across my face. “Because I’m the birthday boy?”
“Hm. Well, I suppose it would be wrong of me to disappoint the birthday boy, wouldn’t it?”
“Very wrong,” I agree. “Very—”
Giselle’s lips touch mine before I can finish the rest of my sentence.
I let her steal a single sweet, closed mouth kiss and then, once she’s had her fill, I’m on her like an animal.
My hands come up beneath the thick bedsheets to cup her arse, kneading the flesh there and coaxing a small whimper from Giselle as I slant my nose against hers and devour the shit out of her. My tongue traces the seam of her soft lips, asking for entry and then our tongues are sliding together, my cock perking up and my eyes are closing because I want to focus on nothing but the feel of Giselle around me, beneath me, on top of me—
Giselle pulls away an inch, but only to heave a breath before her lips crash onto mine more forcefully than they had before.
Gripping her hips, I pull her up and over my waist, legs bracketing either side of my body. Sitting astride me, the hem of Giselle’s oversized t-shirt rides up, helped along the way with the tips of my fingers, until I can see the thick creases where the flesh of the thigh and her hip meet. I want to sink my teeth in that exact spot, leave twin bruises and teeth marks on either side of her tight body.
I chase Giselle’s lips, ignoring the pinpricks of pain building on the side of my freshly tattooed neck, the tape Charlie applied pulling tight at my sensitive flesh, as she tries to pull away. I nibble at her plush bottom lip, eliciting a pretty whimper I want to fucking swallow whole.
My cock strains against the material of my boxers, my balls aching. Pressing the ball of my thumbs into those deliciously feminine curves of Giselle’s hips, I buck upwards, feeling the warm, damp heat of her cloth covered pussy rub against my erection.
“Does that feel good?” I grit out, fighting the urge to throw my head back and rut into Giselle. To pull her body up and over mine again and again and again…
Cracking open my eyes, I catch Giselle raise her hands to her cheeks, covering the pink blush staining her skin. She’s trying to hide from me, but her body betrays how much she likes the feel of my beneath her, even if she won’t say the words.
Skimming my hands up her torso and along the creased, thin material of her navy shirt, I fill my palms with her breasts, feeling the way the bud of her nipple presses into my flesh.
Fucking hell…
I give her sensitive tits a quick squeeze, relishing in the whine I can hear building in her throat, before moving away to wrap my fingers around her wrists and pull her hands away from her face.
“Don’t hide from me, Giselle.”
Her hips stutter against mine, eyes blown wide as she peers down at me.
“Tell me if I’m making you feel good.”
Nodding jerkily, Giselle pitches forward, blunt nails digging into my biceps, to steal another kiss from my lips.
“So good, Hudson,” she murmurs against my stubble, trailing wet kisses along my jawline, across the sensitive spot behind my ear. “You feel so fucking good between my legs.”
Pride surges through me as my fingertips fall to the hem of Giselle’s shirt.
“Tell me I can take this off,” I hear myself plead.
Sitting back on her haunches, Giselle nods, her hands joining mine to help pull her shirt up and over her head. Flashbacks of yesterday in Charlie’s tattoo parlour, Giselle in the chair and me beside her, dance through my mind. I’d helped remove her tight little black shirt last night too, unable to help myself but participate in the show she was putting on which made my heart race and my cock perk up in interest, but this time Giselle is completely bare beneath the cover of her shirt.
It lands somewhere off to the side of the bed, but I don’t fucking care. Not when I’ve finally got my hands on Giselle’s naked body.
I catch her lips to kiss her like a man starved, sucking on the tip of her tongue hungrily while my hands roam every inch of her naked body, careful to avoid the square of plastic film taped to the space between her pert tits, protecting her fresh ink.
I’ve wanted this for so fucking long. I can’t actually believe it’s happening.
Happy fucking birthday to me.
Giselle rocks above me in a steady rhythm, sweet gasps escaping from her lips every time she hits the hard bud of her clit against my pubic bone.
If she isn’t fucking careful, I’ll be coming in my underwear like an inexperienced teenager.
Wrapping my hands around the ladder of her ribcage, I flip us over until she’s beneath me, putting me in control.
Palming one of her inner thighs that cradle my upper body, I spread her legs wider, leaning down to plant a line of kisses along the waistband of her lacy underwear, down her warm flesh to the inside of her knee.
I follow the same pattern on her other leg, peering through my lashes to gauge her reaction.
Those electric blue eyes of hers crash into mine – watching my every move.
I catalogue to memory the long, dark, glossy sheet of her hair. The way it’s splayed out around her head, a startling colour against the white of her pillow. I drink in the sight of her hands cupping and massaging her tits, the tilt of her lips as if she’s biting back a smirk.
If I’m not mistaken, I think Giselle rather likes the sight of me in between her legs.
Hooking my fingers into the waistband of her underwear, I savour the feel of her soft skin beneath my fingertips, cocking an eyebrow as I wait for her answer.
“I thought you only wanted a kiss.”
“I do,” I say, hearing the smug tone of my voice.
“I—”
“I never said which set of lips.”
A choked laugh splutters out of Giselle. Even from this angle, I can see the way she rolls her eyes at my ridiculousness.
“Tell me I can taste you, Giselle. Please.”
“I never took you as a man who begs, Hudson Millen.”
“I don’t. Usually.” I lick my lips, mouth watering at the knowledge I’m inches away from Giselle’s pussy. “But I’ve been fucking dying for a taste of you since I first laid my eyes on you. Don’t tell me you don’t feel the same. Don’t tell me you haven’t dreamed about choking on my cock.”
Giselle’s eyes flash, that pretty pink blush of hers crawling down her neck.
“Hm?” I prompt. “Are you going to lie to me and tell me you haven’t thought about it, Giselle?”
Wordlessly, she shakes her head against the pillow. “Only bad girls lie, Hudson.”
“Oh, so I don’t have a bad girl on my hands?”
She pauses for a heartbeat, thinking about her answer.
“Only if you want me to be.”
Fuck.
That’s it.
Feeling pre-cum leak from my tip and smear against my lower stomach as the tip of my cock peeks out from the waistband of my black boxers, I lower my lips to the top of Giselle’s cloth covered pussy and press a gentle kiss there.
The sweet hitch of her breath only further stokes my ego.
Keeping my eyes locked on Giselle’s, I slowly peel her underwear away from her body, not missing the way the material sticks to the centre of her. When her knickers get tangled around her calves, Giselle raises both of her legs in the air without a tremble, showcasing the limberness of her body as she kicks the lace somewhere over the side of the bed.
“I should have known you’d be bendy.”
Giselle hums noncommittedly, shifting her hips restlessly, an inch away from shoving her pussy in my face.
Dragging my eyes down her tight body, I don’t even attempt to hold back my groan at the sight of her cunt. Wet, pink and plump, I slide the thick pad of my thumb through her puffy folds, past her cute little clit peeking out from beneath its hood, and down to the wetness gathering at her entrance.
I drag her arousal over her folds, coating her, and then I pull my thumb away, shoving it between my lips to taste her.
“Fucking hell, Giselle…”
She tastes so fucking good. Addictive. I can’t get enough.
Lowering my face down to the apex of her thighs, I shove my tongue into Giselle’s pretty pussy without warning. Her hands land in my hair, fisting the strands, her mouth falling open on a sweet squeal I want to hear on a never-ending loop in my mind.
I suckle on her left lip and then her right, rubbing my third day stubble against the inner portion of her thigh, before spreading her apart with my fingertips and closing my lips around her clit.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Giselle moans, her legs twitching around my ears. “You’re too fucking good at this.”
I grumble my agreement into her folds, slurping up the mixture of spit and wetness frothing from her hole, only to return my attention to her hard bud. I kiss and lick, suck and nibble, tracing the very tip of my tongue around her clit with a maddeningly slow approach until Giselle’s hips are lifting from the mattress in need.
Grinding my cock into the bed to gain even an inch of relief from the tension I can feel building at the base of my spine and in my balls, I tighten my hold on her waist, shoving my shoulders into her inner thighs to keep them from closing.
“Keep your fucking legs open, Giselle.”
“I’m—I’m trying ,” she whines, head pressing back into the pillow behind her. “Shit. Hudson .”
Small hands fall from the top of my skull, leaving behind a slight sting from how tightly she’d been gripping my hair, coming to hold her legs open much fucking further than any other girl I’ve ever been with.
“Imagine you doing the splits while being split in half sitting on my cock, Gee.” My filthy words elicit another whimper from Giselle. “God, I could cum in my boxers just thinking about it. You’ve got me fucking ruined, Giselle. Ruined. And now I wanna ruin you as much as you’ve ruined me.”
I press my tongue to her most sensitive spot, done with teasing. I need to see her come, to feel her tighten around me, to hear the sounds she makes…
Lacing my fingers with her right hand, which grips the flesh of her thigh, I slide my left pointer finger through Giselle’s wet folds and down to her sodden entrance. I push in hardly an inch, feeling her walls contract around my finger, fucking tight as a virgin.
Christ.
“So fucking tight,” I grind out between clenched teeth. Giselle is clamping down on my finger and I’m not even in to my first knuckle. Fuck me. What is she going to feel like wrapped around my cock?
“Giselle?”
“Mhm?”
“You’re fucking tight. Are you—”
She shakes her head no against her downy duck feather pillow. “It’s just been a while.”
I shouldn’t care that I’m the first man she’s been with in a while. Whatever that frame of time means. But I can’t help the way my chest puffs out, a surge of masculine pride running through me.
“I’ll be gentle, then.”
Replacing my forefinger with my pinkie, I slide inside to my third knuckle, but it’s a fucking tight fit. I feel her arousal coat the web of my finger, her pussy walls sucking me in, but we’re both going to have to do some serious work to get my cock to fit.
“Going to have to stretch you out,” I mutter into her folds. “Otherwise, I don’t think I’ll fit, Gee.”
She moans high in the back of her throat, the lean muscles in her inner thighs flexing in protest of my wandering attention.
“Make me fucking cum, Hudson.”
“It’s cute that you think you’re the one in charge, Giselle,” I say, before I purse my lips around her clit hood and suck.
Giselle’s back bows off the bed, profanities slipping from her tongue.
“I’m going to come. Hudson. I’m going—I’m going… fuck, fuck I’m coming .”
I lap up the liquid gushing from Giselle’s core, the proof of her orgasm, coating each and every tastebud on my tongue so I don’t forget the taste of her until the next time she lets me get my hands on her tight body.
With an audible exhale, she slumps against the bed, breathing unsteady and a slight shake to her legs.
“God, Hudson.”
I don’t know if it’s the sound of my name on her lips, the sight of her in her glowy post orgasmic state or the smell of her pussy around me, on my hands, my lips, my tongue, but I feel my balls tighten up and a zap of ecstasy paralyse my glutes.
I’m going to fucking come.
Without dropping Giselle’s hands, which are now lying limp on her lower stomach, I rut against the mattress, the tip of my cock rubbing against my stomach and the bed.
A strained groan rips past my lips, followed by the sound of Giselle’s name as my stomach muscles contract and I spill myself all over her bedsheet, my boxers and my groin.
The sound of our laboured breathing echoes off the white walls in Giselle’s bedroom, loud in her otherwise silent apartment.
“Did you just—”
I sit back on my haunches, glancing down at the mess I’ve made. “Yeah. Sorry, I—”
“Don’t be sorry.” Giselle tenses her abdomen until she’s sitting upright and peers down at the opaque ropes of cum smeared in her sheets and on my flesh. “It was hot.”
Those three words of praise settle into my skin and I’m about to open my mouth, when I watch as Giselle dips her fingertip into the cum drying on my stomach and places her finger into her mouth; tasting me as I tasted her.
“You’re fucking unbelievable,” I hear myself say, transfixed by the roll of her tongue, sucking every inch of me from her finger. When she removes it with a sultry smile and a pop, I grab the back of Giselle’s head, positioning her where I want her as I devour her mouth.
“You’ve started something here, Gee. Something fucking addictive and I don’t think I can stop.”