14. Giselle
Chapter 14
Giselle
I close the door to my apartment behind Hudson, locking it tightly, and then, on shaky legs, I pad to my bedroom, flopping backwards onto the creased bedsheets with a stuttered exhale breaking from my lungs.
What the fuck just happened?
The last twenty-four hours… they’ve been shocking to say the least.
Certainly unexpected.
After our heated argument yesterday evening, I’d shut myself into my bedroom and then collapsed against the door.
Hudson Millen was outside, in my living room, only meters away.
It was hard to wrap my head around it all.
I knew he found me physically attractive, but it was his worry for my safety, his worry about where I’d disappeared too after I’d taken off at the pub, that made my heart pitter patter in my chest cavity and my stomach flip upside down.
Flattening the palms of my hands against the cool door of my bedroom in an attempt to ground myself into the present moment, I’d taken three deep breaths and then tried to go about my night-time routine as usual. Maybe that way, I hoped, my brain would switch off easily and allow sleep to catch a hold of me.
Yeah.
As if, Miss Wishful Thinking.
I’d headed to my chest of drawers, pulling out a fresh pair of underwear and an oversized t-shirt – my usual to-bed attire.
But even as I shimmied my leggings off, feeling goosebumps erupt over my calves at the sudden cold air kissing my skin, I couldn’t stop imagining Hudson barging in here the way he’d barged in through the door to my apartment.
He’d looked more tightly strung than I’d ever seen him, with waves of ‘I’m taking no more shit’ attitude spilling off on him.
I found it more attractive than I cared to admit out loud.
If he barged into my bedroom at this very second, what would I do?
I know what my body wanted me to do; nipples standing to attention and brushing against the thin cotton material of my shirt with every breath I took, stomach flipping upside down, the empty space between my legs tingling and pulsing.
But my heart?
What did my heart want to happen?
Crawling beneath the sheets, I’d raised my left hand in front of my face and stared blindly at the ring on my middle finger. The binding contract from myself to myself. It was difficult to see in the dark, but I could just make out the sheen coming from the precious gold metal.
For the first time since I’d slipped the ring onto my finger all of those years ago, I wondered what it would feel like to go without it. What would it feel like to have fresh air tiptoe across the space of my flesh? Would it tingle? Would it burn? Would it turn cold and numb after just minutes in the freezing cold February air outside like the rest of my gloveless fingers?
Would my hand feel lighter?
Would I feel lighter?
Where would I keep the ring if it was no longer wrapped around my finger?
I let my hand flop against my mattress, tightening my fingertips to make a fist and centring myself into the cool, smooth texture of my ring pressed up against the flesh of my palm.
My eyes fall shut but my brain won’t turn off – no matter how many fluffy, white sheep I counted.
I was hyperaware of Hudson sleeping just outside of my bedroom door.
Surely, he couldn’t be comfortable out there. My sofa wasn’t the smallest thing ever, but at Hudson’s height…
Before I really knew what I was doing, I was pushing the bedcovers back and stepping out into the hallway.
Hudson had switched off my living room lamp before he’d fallen asleep, so my apartment was steeped in darkness, but I kept it fairly tidy so there was no risk of me falling over something on the floor and with my hand on the wall to keep me steady, I knew how many steps it would take me to reach the sofa.
It took me all of a few seconds to shake Hudson’s shoulder and wake him up, clutching his hand and forcing him to stand before I’m sure he was even properly awake.
He’d followed me into my bed as if he belonged there, as if this was nightly reoccurrence; mashing his face into the spare pillow beside mine, claiming it for his own and then draping his arm over my waist to pull my back into his chest.
I held my breath somewhere at the base of my throat, listening to the deep, rhythmic sounds of Hudson falling back to sleep, my entire focus on the way his large hand was spread out over my ribcage as if to keep me there.
Maybe it was the extra warmth Hudson’s large body provided me with, or maybe just the simple presence of him, but sleep claimed me much easier than it had when I’d been lying in bed, alone, with nothing but the seemingly heavy weight on my middle finger to keep me company.
It felt like only minutes ago I’d fallen asleep, but when I came to this morning, it was to Hudson stirring beside me, my leg hiked up high and resting on his pelvis, his hand still banded around any part of my body he could reach.
I wonder if our bodies had separated at all during the night…
Hudson shifted, pressing his hips upward into my inner thigh, searching, while I bit back a moan at the pressure building in my core. He’d hardly touched me, but I could feel him, rock hard and warm through the thin material of his black underwear and the thought of me moving over just an inch, reaching down to pull aside the gusset of my knickers and notch him at my entrance…
God, I bet the stretch would be otherworldly.
But I’d keep going, breathing through the painful pinch, taking him deeper and deeper, feeling him bump against my front wall, hitting that spongy spot I could never reach by myself…
With a rush of horny filled endorphins coursing through my veins, I indulged, like a decadent dessert, Hudson’s flirting, my half-awake mind turning to nothing but mush.
My body begged me to give in to the ache between my thighs in a bid to take just the edge off. While my mind begged me to give in to the filthy scenarios it had been creating since the moment I’d laid my eyes on Hudson.
Neither my body nor my mind, however, was to blame for my lips slotting against his.
I kissed him because I wanted to.
It was as simple as that.
I couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect we fitted together as Hudson devoured my mouth, his hands roaming every inch of my body, as if he couldn’t decide which part of me he wanted to pay attention to first.
Not that I could blame him.
I felt just as out of control; my baser instincts taking over in a blur.
The next thing I knew I sat astride him, those large hands of his moving me into position, however he wanted me, in a way that made my pussy throb. I shouldn’t like that he treated me like a doll, his possession, but I did.
I liked it a fucking lot.
Tightening my thighs around his hips, I ground my hips down, feeling the bulge of his hard cock graze along the damp material of my ruined underwear. I was a slave to my body, to finding what felt good and chasing after it like an addict in search of their next hit.
The slight pleading sound of Hudson’s voice as he toyed with the hem of my oversized t-shirt, only fuelled me further.
I wanted to see what else I could do, that would make such a masculine man like Hudson Millen plead and whine and beg and—
He flipped me over onto my back before I could catch my breath, stealing the first ripples of my orgasm cruelly, only to replace it with the striking sight of him between my legs, the plastic wrap covering his fresh neck tattoo glinting in the early morning sun.
Filthy words were poured along the crevices of my body, down the delicate centre of my shivering spine and into my skin, dripping from Hudson’s lips. Addictive and moreish, until I raised my hips and thrust myself into his face, desperate for him to finish what he’d started hours ago.
But not even that could prepare me for the first swipe of his wet tongue along my folds; the first man to touch me like that in almost four years.
Maybe I should have felt awkward and out of practise.
Maybe if it had been anybody but Hudson, I would have.
But beneath his filthy words and masculine exterior, was a man who was able to make me laugh loudly while my legs we’re spread wide in a vulnerable position, putting me at ease with his presence.
Hips jolting from the bed, I sank into my body entirely, laser focused on the pleasure coursing up and down my spine.
Hudson was entirely too good at eating my pussy like it was his last meal on earth.
Toes curling into the sheets, I pushed away the thought that threatened to ask me why he was so good at eating pussy. I didn’t want to think about the hundreds of other girls he’d practised on, the other girls he’d made squeal and cream and whine and squirt.
Ecstasy licked at my bones, seizing up my muscles until I had my thighs clamped around Hudson’s ears.
Giving my clit one last hard suck, he raised his head, the sight of the blown out ring of his pupils unforgettable.
“Keep your fucking legs open, Giselle.”
Holy fucking shit.
I’d whined out a reply as I gripped the backs of my legs, relishing in the way Hudson’s hands twined their way against mine, keeping me open wide for him.
Keeping me at his mercy.
Which was exactly where I wanted to be.
So caught up in the lapping of his tongue and the slight stubble burn building across my inner thighs, I didn’t notice Hudson slipping one of his hands out of my grasp and down to my core, until he was notching a finger at my entrance and attempting to slide inside.
I could have told him it wouldn’t be that easy.
Clamping around the thick digit of his finger, a small pinch of discomfort nipped at my lower stomach.
“You’re fucking tight,” he gritted out, obviously feeling the tight flutter of my walls. “Are you—”
I’d shaken my head against the duck feather pillow beneath me.
“I’ll be gentle, then.”
“Going to have to stretch you out… Otherwise, I don’t think I’ll fit, Gee.”
My eyes rolled so far back into my head at his dirty words, I feared they’d stay there.
Pulling his pinkie finger away, Hudson doubled down on my bud, wrapping his lips around me and sucking. Hard .
The climax that had been building in my core, my lower back, my stomach, ripped me apart violently, a squeal of Hudson’s name hot on my tongue, imprinting itself there.
My eyes threatened to close as I gushed between my thighs, but I forced them open, watching Hudson trace the tip of his tongue around my folds.
If I had closed my eyes, I would have missed the subtle pump of his hips against my mattress.
It was impossible to mistake the groan as Hudson spilled himself, my name echoing off the walls of my bedroom...
Reaching my fingers forward just an inch, I drag open the drawer beside my bed, rummaging around for my trusty black bullet vibrator. I dig my thumb into the discreet on/off button, feeling the sex toy begin to vibrate in my hand, and then notch up the intensity to level two.
I spread my legs wide, too frantic with desire and a rush of hormones to even think about teasing myself first. Instead, I press the vibrator to the hood of my clit, feeling my eyes roll into the back of my head, my back bowing away from the mattress, a shout leaving my lips.
It takes hardly any time at all for me to feel the familiar fluttering in my core, warning me my second orgasm of the morning, isn’t far off.
All I can think about is reaching that peak.
My mind won’t stop replaying still images of Hudson; the way he felt beneath my cheek as we laid together this morning, the possessive way he gripped my body, the sight of him taking up space in my tiny kitchen, wearing nothing but boxers, my fluffy pink robe and his shock of dark chocolate hair…
My thoughts spiral even further as my body tightens – Hudson’s low voice, as dark and as sinful as molasses, urging me on to admit how attracted I am to him.
“Come on, Giselle. Let me hear you…”
He’d towered above me as I admitted my attraction to him, only further fuelling the endorphins running wild through my veins.
I break apart with a whine, not even attempting to bite back Hudson’s name. On my empty bed, the sheets still smelling of him, I writhe in ecstasy, pressing the vibrator into my sodden folds until I physically can’t take it anymore.
Panting I roll over onto my stomach, my muscles like jelly. I really need to jump in the shower and start getting ready for work, but I’m drowsy with the rush of endorphins and it’s so bloody cold outside of my bed…
On autopilot, I grab my phone, pulling up an oddly addictive social media app and thumbing through the short video clips.
Before I know it, half an hour has passed and I’m going to be severely late for my first set of classes if I don’t get my arse up and out of bed right this second.
Throwing myself in and out of the shower within a few minutes – extremely careful not to get my new tattoos soaking wet – I dress myself in the first matching set of active wear I can find and slip my feet in a pair of trainers. Quickly tossing my trusty black heels into my gym bag for the only dance class I’m teaching today, I button up my coat, loop my thick, woollen scarf around my neck and set off.
I make it through my first, and only dance class of the day, without the urge to check my phone for a message from Hudson. The girls in my studio keep me busy and plus, it’s his birthday, and he’s celebrating it with his family, of course I can’t expect to hear from him only a few hours after he left my apartment. But there is a little part of me that’s on edge wondering what time he’s going to call so we can have an important chat.
If this is to go any further, I know I need to tell him about my choice to be celibate.
It’s not that I’m ashamed, quite the contrary, in fact my choice to be celibate has done nothing but empower me and help improve my self-worth and self-reflection. Especially when it comes to relationships.
But if Hudson and I are to explore this connection bursting like a livewire between the two of us, then I need him to know what he’s getting himself in for. I need him to know that I don’t sleep with men on the first date, or the second…
In the past couple of years since I’ve been on the dating scene, that’s been the kicker.
The men I’d gone on dates with in the past, didn’t want to wait to sleep with me. None of them understood my reasoning for choosing to be celibate, either meeting my eyes with a blank stare or a furrow to their brow and an unpleasant twist to their lips.
After combing through my notifications, none of which are from Hudson, I throw my phone back in to the depths of my gym bag. I take a swig of water from my bottle and I’m about to lock up my dance studio and start preparing for my back-to-back meditation classes, when the door bursts open.
“You left me hanging last night and now you’re not even going to come find me to spill the details?” Rosie stands in the doorway, brows raised, hip popped in a questioning stance.
“Um—”
“You’ve got an hour until your next set of classes. I double checked the rota. So that’s plenty of time for you to spill every last juicy drop of whatever the hell happened last night, and I mean every last juicy drop, Gee. I’m fucking dying over here.”
Closing the door behind her with a snick , Rosie stalks over to me, grabbing a hold of my hands and peering down at them.
“Ring still intact, then?” she asks, something unreadable tinging her tone.
I glance down at my own ten fingers which are in desperate need of a manicure or, at the very least, a quick tidy up and a lick of clear polish. I make a mental note to give them a file tonight as part of my nightly routine.
“Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?” I gently pull my hands from hers, leaning over and pretending to busy myself with tidying up the inside of my gym bag.
Is my celibacy ring still intact?
I let Hudson go down on me, the first man since I slipped the gold jewellery onto my flesh, so does that mean…
I bite down on my lower lip in confusion because the truth is, I have no fucking clue what it means.
That’s not a good thing, seeing as I’m the maker of said rules. How is anybody else supposed to know if I’ve broken my celibacy, when I don’t even know myself…
Thankfully, my long, dark hair casts a sheet over my face so she can’t see my expression, but Rosie knows me too well to know I’d ever willing be cleaning out my gym bag. That thing is a never-ending cave of wonders; filled to the brim with empty protein bar wrappers, multiple deodorant cans, handfuls of blister gel pads and plasters for both me and the girls in my class to use in case of emergency and a myriad of paper receipts, some of which are so old the ink is no longer legible.
A hand grips my shoulder. “What happened after you ended our call last night, Gee?”
Rosie’s tone is much softer than I’m used to. She’s asking me a genuine question as my best friend, rather than just playfully digging for the dirty details.
Zipping up my bag, I take a deep breath and lift my head to face her.
“After you gave Hudson my phone number, he—he rang me. He said he was worried about me, because I’d just upped and left the pub and he had no clue where I’d gone, or if I was safe or… He wanted to come and see me, so I-I gave him the address to my apartment.”
“And then?”
I twine my hands together, squeezing tightly to feel the cold metal of my ring bite into the warm flesh of my palm.
“We… talked. He told me he wanted me.”
I taste Hudson’s declaration on my tongue as the words escape my lips. They taste like spun sugar; the sugar high concoction flittering through my blood stream, making my body feel weightless.
“Giselle…” She all but sighs dreamily. She can’t help it; Rosie is nothing if not a true romantic at heart.
I nod slowly, twisting my lips to the side. “But then we started arguing and you know how much I hate confrontation, Ro. He was going on and on about how things between us didn’t have to be ‘complicated’.” I bunny ear my fingers around the dreaded word. “And the truth just sort of slipped out.”
Rosie’s lips part in surprise. “About the celibacy—”
“No, well, kinda? Sorta? I don’t know. I told him sex wasn’t as easy for me as it was for him.”
“And how did he take that?”
“I don’t think it phased him, Ro. That’s the terrifying part. He didn’t walk away or look at me strange. Nothing. Instead, he fucking apologised and the next thing I know he’s in my bed.”
Rosie grabs my elbows, her fingertips creating divots in my flesh, as she makes a choked sound. “Did anything happen?”
I stay still, rubbing my lips together silently.
“Giselle! Spill. Now!”
“We kissed.”
“Oh my god!” Rosie yelps. “You kissed him! Was it good?! Who am I kidding, of fucking course a man who looks like Hudson Millen knows how to lip lock.”
I feel my cheeks burn with a flush.
“Did anything else happen between the two of you?!”
“We—I—He—went down on me this morning.”
My words hang in the air above us, threatening to suffocate me, until Rosie breaks the cloud with a squeal.
“Did it feel good?”
I nod, unable to hold back the smile dancing its way across my lips as I remember just how fucking good it felt. Addictive.
“So, what happens now between the two of you?”
“He’s away with his family for the weekend, celebrating his birthday, but he said he’d call when he gets a chance,” I say. “I-I’m going to tell him about my celibacy.”
“Are you nervous?”
I nod. “I’m scared he’s just going to be like every other man I’ve gone on a date with. Running for the hills when they hear about my celibacy. But what can I do? I can’t control the outcome, or Hudson’s actions…”
Although, I bloody wish I could.
“He’s not going to do that, Gee.”
I run the tip of my tongue along the straight edge of my two front teeth. “We don’t know that for certain, Ro.”
“Don’t stress it, okay?” she replies, hands coming to smooth over the tension building in my shoulders. “He cares about you. He likes you; he wants you. It’s as obvious as broad daylight. Plus, any man who willingly gives away the chance to be with you isn’t worth a second of your time, Giselle.” She rolls her eyes. “All because they’re scared of putting in a little work into building a relationship, rather than just fucking around. God, I am sick to the back teeth of hearing that shitty excuse.”
“Me too,” I agree, swallowing back the forming lump in my throat because I fear that’s exactly what Hudson is looking for.
The words he’d said to me flitter back into my mind – just a little bit of fun… It doesn’t have to be complicated, Giselle – leaving my stomach hollow.
I wish I could voice my fear to my best friend, but every time I try, the words get stuck in my throat, drying up until I feel like I’m choking.
Rosie squeezes my hands. “He’d be the most stupidest man in the entire world to lose you, Gee, and I’m not just saying that because I’m your best friend and entirely biased.”
At that, I let out a small giggle, squeezing her fingers back and hoping to shake away the residual nervous energy hanging onto me.
“Yeah.” I exhale slowly, disturbing the edges of my long fringe. “I know he’s attracted to me, it’s just… I hope there’s something more there, you know?”
“Trust, Gee.” Rosie smiles widely. “Sometimes fate can be a real bitch, but sometimes, just sometimes, she can be as gentle hearted as the rest of us.”