Chapter 15 #2
It’s nearing midnight, and I’ve tossed and turned for hours, unable to find a comfortable position in bed. I’m heading to the kitchen for a snack when a soft knock startles me.
It’s hard enough that I could make the sound out but soft enough that had I been asleep, I wouldn’t have heard it.
There’s only one person who could be knocking right now, and if it’s him, I allow myself to imagine I’ve summoned him, as if he heard my horny hormones calling for him. I didn’t even attempt to masturbate, knowing it would only piss me off when what I want is sex and everything that comes with it.
With cautious curiosity, I peer through the peephole, and my heart skips a beat when I see Quintin standing there, a sheepish smile on his lips. I quickly unlock the door and swing it open.
It’s then I remember I’m in a nightgown with no bra, my boobs swaying with the movements.
His perceptive eyes catch it all.
“Quintin?” I blurt out, elated to see him. “What are you doing here?”
And what took you so long?
He scratches the back of his neck, a hint of embarrassment in his expression, his hazel eyes taking in my less-than-glamorous appearance. “I know it’s late, but I wanted to see you.”
My heart melts a little at his words, the fatigue from the evening melting away as I take in his earnest gaze. “You missed me?”
He nods, his adorable smile widening. “Yeah, I mean, it’s been a long day. I realized I wanted to see your face before I went to bed.”
I can’t help but chuckle, my initial surprise giving way to warmth. “Well, you’re in luck. My face is right here.”
He steps closer, his fingers tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “And it’s just as beautiful as ever.”
I roll my eyes, feigning annoyance to hide the blush creeping up my cheeks. “Come on, Quintin. I look like a fucking potato. Pregnancy glow is a myth.”
We’re silent a moment then. He just stares at me, and I wonder if the look on his face is the human equivalent to the heart eyes emoji.
“Say my name again,” he murmurs, stepping closer.
I swallow as his hand reaches out to cup my face. “Quintin,” I whisper.
We stand there for a moment, the world outside forgotten as we share a quiet, tender moment.
In his presence, I feel steadier, stronger, softer, all these things I’d never fully experienced before.
Because even those nights I fell asleep alone, insisting I was happy, I wasn’t nearly as strong as I feel right now.
It scares the ever-loving shit out of me. He scares the ever-loving shit out of me.
“Thank you for the notebook,” I say, unsure if I should invite him in.
“I dropped it off before the dinner rush. I’m glad you like it.”
That means between the lunch and dinner shift, he took the minimal time he had to get this notebook for me and leave it at my door.
If that isn’t the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.
All these thoughts run through my head as I lean into his touch.
I’m getting in too deep here. I don’t know much about love, but I know this is what I could imagine it feels like.
I could imagine these little moments being stepping stones to that kind of emotion.
It’s not about grand gestures or sweeping declarations—it’s about the simple act of being there for one other, even in the late hours, when the world is quiet.
“You know,” I say with a teasing grin, stepping back and out of his hold, “if you keep showing up at my doorstep like this, the neighbors are going to start thinking we’re even more scandalous than we actually are.”
Quintin chuckles, catching my hands just as they let go of him, his fingers sliding up and lacing through mine, as if he can’t stand to let me go. “Well, let’s give them something to talk about, then.”
He grabs me by my chin, pulling me forward into a kiss before pushing the both of us back into my apartment. It’s so quiet, all I can hear are our breaths mingling and the sounds that sneak out in between.
An intoxicating melody.
Vagina butterflies take off as he leads me to my bathroom without taking his mouth off me.
“Uh…” I start, breaking the kiss. “I don’t think shower sex is happening with all of this going on.
” I gesture toward my belly, and he smirks, pulling my oversize T-shirt from my body.
I stand in front of him in my panties, trying not to cover myself.
This body is different. I don’t know how to love this body right now.
But he lifts my hand to press a kiss to my palm, as if he’s going to show me.
“I’m going to taste you. Then I’m going to wash you off, moisturize you, we’re going to lay down together, and I’ll hold you until you fall asleep.”
This time, my heart flutters, and I can’t help but feel a surge of affection and lust for the man standing before me. In the middle of my pregnancy uncertainties, he’s been a constant presence, a reminder I’m not alone in this journey.
And these little moments have me racing toward that intense emotion, fear be damned.
Mmm.
I can still smell her orgasms on my face.
I purse my lips just to get another whiff, and my dick jumps.
I scoot away from the soft mounds of her ass so I don’t poke her with my uninvited erection.
I sit up, unsure of what I should do. Even though I’m exhausted, it’s clear I won’t be going to sleep any time soon.
After lapping up her last one, I declined when she tried to touch me, take care of me, telling her to go to sleep because I know how exhausted she is. It took her less than five minutes before her breathing evened out, and I’ve been staring at her bedroom ceiling since.
My dick has been awake since then, too, but that’s a me problem. I glance over at her, admiring the curve of her hip and the valley of her waist.
Would it make me a jackass to rub one out while I watch her sleep?
Something about it feels like a violation.
But fuck , does she look amazing, with her womanly shape and the softness of her body. I love the way it moves in time with her every motion, like walking art.
My dick is tented in my boxer briefs, the tip wet with precum as I stare down at her, wanting nothing more than to alleviate the mounting pressure.
“Quintin,” I hear her say, a muffled whisper, but I’d know the sound of my name anywhere, especially when it’s coming out of her mouth.
I’m unsure if she’s awake or still dreaming.
“Quintin, what are you doing?” she grumbles, sighing into her pillow, her nightgown rising to show her panties, white with little flowers on them. The rest of the blood left in my brain rushes right to my dick. “C’mere.”
I don’t need to be told twice.
But I don’t think she knows what she’s asking for, and that’s made apparent by the sound that comes from her throat the moment I snuggle into her, my erection pressing into her soft ass.
Wordlessly, I press kisses into her shoulder, traveling up her neck as I taste her skin. She squirms, moaning as I run my fingers through her hair. She smells heavenly, all amber with that rosy scent I’ve come to associate with her. Intoxicating.
“This is what you do to me,” I remind her, pushing my hips forward to show her. “You don’t even have to try.”
She hums in approval, her hand running up my thigh. I take it in mine, determined to hear her.
“Tell me you need me,” I whisper against the shell of her ear before scraping my teeth along it, loving the sleepy sigh that escapes her lips. She couldn’t hide her desire if she tried, but I’m thankful she doesn’t quiet her moans, doesn’t keep her sounds and reactions to herself.
Because I’m so fucking greedy when it comes to Daniela. I release her hand, wanting to touch her elsewhere.
“I need you,” she gasps as I pinch her nipple.
I sneak my hand into her panties, careful to stroke her belly softly before continuing down, groaning at the feeling of her wetness coating my fingers. She feels like she’s made for me, from the sounds she makes to the way she reacts to me. I have to keep myself from getting too excited.
She needs slow and steady, both romantically and sexually.
But when she reaches back and grips my dick, I swear, my eyes cross.
“Too much?” she asks, concern in her voice. She doesn’t know I want more. I want it all.
“It’s yours,” I inform her, my voice husky with fatigue and desire. “Do whatever you want.”
I’ve never openly said anything like this before, vulnerability mingled with lust turning this moment into something I never knew I could experience. It’s the closest I’ve come to feeling romantic love for another human being.
Warm and pliant, I feel like she is the closest thing to mine I’ve ever had.
She’s wordless as she scoots back, the soft globes of her ass making me harder.
She spreads her legs so I can slip a finger inside, then another.
I slowly withdraw before settling on an even pace, my thumb rubbing her clit.
She contracts around me, and I pull my hand back, slipping the same fingers into my mouth.
The taste of her coats my tongue, and I’m hard-pressed to find another flavor I crave as much as hers.
“You are delicious,” I inform her before gritting my teeth as she reaches back to stroke me again, more confidence in her touch this time. She edges closer, and when she lines me up perfectly with her sweet pussy, I push my hips forward.
We groan in unison as I enter her slowly. I inhale through my nose, intoxicated by her scent as I remind myself.
Take it slow, take it slow.
“More,” she whimpers into her pillow, arching her back. “Fuck me.”
Fuck.
I grip her hip before sliding my hand down to her knee, lifting her leg and opening her further. The rhythm picks up, and I bring my hand between her legs, stroking her clit until I feel her tighten around my dick.
“That’s it,” I whisper in her ear. “This is what you wanted, right?”
I catch sight of her profile as she comes down from her orgasm, and I press a kiss against her neck, inhaling as I continue to fuck her.
Without warning, I bring my hands to her clit again, rubbing her into another orgasm, then another.
And when she’s panting, telling me she can’t keep orgasming, I ignore her.
“Give me one more, baby,” I grit into her ear as I play with her pussy until we finish together.
I’m breathing heavily as I start to regain feeling in my toes, coming down from the intense orgasm. I hold her for a moment, still catching my breath as she hums with contentment, stretching.
Had it ever felt like this before? Has anyone ever brought this out of me before?
I don’t tell her, letting her bask in her afterglow. She deserves every orgasm I’ve given her and every orgasm I intend to give her.
After a few minutes, I get up, walking to the en suite bathroom to get her a towel. I clean myself off, making sure the water is warm before running the washcloth under it.
I head back into the room, adjusting myself in my underwear as I approach. Her eyes are closed, but I don’t think she’s asleep.
Without a word, I slide up her bed until I’m between her thighs, pulling her panties to the side and watching myself leak out of her.
I didn’t think I’d find the sight of my orgasm appealing in any sense, but seeing it make its way out of her, I can’t shake the desire to take her again. She lies there with her eyes closed, so I begin to wipe her clean, placing a kiss on her thigh once I’m done.
“Thank you,” she murmurs, turning into her pillow with a sigh.
An odd moment for gratitude , I think as I toss the rag in the hamper before joining her in bed.
My mind is finally quiet, and I manage to fall asleep only moments later.