Chapter 31
thirty-one
. . .
Bex
I can’t hide my nerves as I do as he demands, hovering over his face.
“I said sit,” he snaps, yanking my hips back. The authority in his voice sends tingles down my spine, heat coiling deep in my gut.
Yeah, I can get used to this.
His nose brushes over my clit as he positions me the way he wants, angling me until his soft lips connect with the sensitive bundle of nerves. The pressure of his fingers curling into my ass, kneading my cheeks, helps ground me in this moment.
And the first sweep of his tongue over my clit, the scrape of the stubble on his chin, sends me soaring into the clouds again. I’m anchored to this plane of existence by his hands on me, one of which drops to my thigh, rubbing small circles.
I don’t know the last time I was able to let go.
To release all the tension coiled tight in my body, to relax.
This morning in my office, even with the door locked, I kept waiting for someone to walk in.
As hot as the idea of getting caught makes me, hooking up at work was a stupid, risky move.
Both of our jobs would be on the line. Mine more than his.
“Hey,” Nick murmurs against my skin. “Stop thinking. Just feel.”
I take a deep breath, then release it slowly, letting my eyelids flutter closed.
Doing my best to listen. To obey. For the first time, I’m not worried about what I look like.
Do I have too much body hair for his preference, or not enough?
I’m not worried about my fat ass or my thick thighs or my giant belly.
He’s made it clear he likes me, inside and out. No matter the insidious lies my brain wants to spin, I have to believe him.
Because he’s in charge so I don’t have to be. I don’t have to make any decisions, to stay hypervigilant of everything going on around me. He’s promised to take care of me. Now I have to let him. Now I have to trust him.
My hands fall to his chest, his firm pecs a satisfying cushion for my fingernails. The light scrape of his hair beneath my palms and the pounding of his heart keep me grounded in the present. This isn’t a fantasy; this is my reality.
He eats at me like a man starved, like he’s genuinely enjoying himself and not doing this simply to check a box on a foreplay to-do list. As I watch, his cock twitches against his lower abs, a streak of sticky precum shining on his skin. Huh. I guess he does like this.
A fuzzy sort of static starts up in the back of my brain, my thoughts fading in and out of clarity as I focus on the pleasure he’s giving me, on the sensations coursing through me. I clench my thighs, the sensitive skin at the apex abraded by his stubble, and that is what forces me over the edge.
A scream rips from my throat as I climax, the waves of euphoria rolling through me. Nick doesn’t give up, not until I’m achy and oversensitive. I lift off him, and this time he lets me.
My legs are wobbly as I tip over onto my side, then burrow into his chest. His arm slides over my shoulders, holding me close. I tangle my leg with his, needing the physicality of his presence, the scratch of his leg hair against my skin, the beating of his heart beneath my cheek.
Nick lifts my chin with his finger, drawing my attention to him. “How are you doing?”
“’M good,” I slur, my eyes heavy.
“That wasn’t too much? We didn’t talk about ground rules.”
“I’ll let you know if you come close to crossing my limits. I’m not interested in a full-on Dom/sub relationship, but I’m more than happy to cede control.” Especially if it gets me orgasms like that.
“I can go either way, so it doesn’t bother me.” He drops a kiss on the top of my head. “Whatever you need. We can try something new at any time.”
“I’m glad we can talk about this.”
He scoffs. “If we can’t talk about sex, we shouldn’t be having it. You never need to be scared or ashamed of telling me what you need. My job is to give it to you as best as I can.”
Arching an eyebrow, I smirk. “Give it to me, huh?”
His chuckle vibrates under my cheek. “I mean, whenever you want, I’m down for that, too.”
“How about now?” I’ve had enough of a breather. As I move to sit up, he releases me, scooting back to rest against the headboard. “Let me go get a condom.”
The mattress jostles as he leans over and reaches for his bedside table. “I’ve got it.”
I stop him before he goes too far. “I’m allergic to latex.”
Nick actually rolls his eyes. The audacity of this man!
“Trust me, Bex Marie.” In the bottom drawer lies a box of polyurethane condoms—unopened.
My jaw drops. I can’t decide where to look, at the box, or at his sheepish expression.
“Bought these after we came back from the Caribbean,” he continues. He rubs the back of his neck, his cheeks tinted pink. “Didn’t think I’d have a chance to use them, seeing as I thought you were dating someone else, but I’ve kept them around ever since. Just in case.”
Launching myself across the mattress, I crash-tackle him in a hug. The velocity of my attack shoves him backward—directly into the headboard. His head collides with the wood with a thunk.
“Ow,” he mutters, his arms coming up to hold me close. I try to pull away, but his grip tightens around me. “Caught you. Not letting you go now.”
“Don’t want you to.”
As I cling to him, my cheek to his chest, the steady thump, thump, thump of his heart echoes through me, my heartbeat slowing to match his. He’s as steady as an old oak tree, never yielding, never faltering.
Oh, fuck this.
I lean up and pull him into a heady, drugging kiss. His smile meets mine, again and again and again. It’s not a battle; he’s not trying to one-up me or take control when I’m not ready to yield it. We meet as equals. As partners.
My hands don’t stop moving: mapping his shoulders, his pecs, his cut abs, and down to his thick cock, shiny with precum. His length is like steel wrapped in velvet, sticky smooth and hot as hell.
He’s not passive, but he lets me explore.
Lets me take my time. Catalog how he groans when I stroke him, how his cock leaks when I twist my grip over the head.
How his muscles strain when I cup his balls, and the cords in his neck pop when I tweak his nipple.
I learn his body, memorizing his sounds, loving his reactions.
And through it all, he encourages me, his hands stroking over my hair, murmuring praises. I bask in his approval, my entire body tightening.
Breathing hard, Nick rears back. He removes my hand from around his cock, kissing my sticky palm.
“We’ve got to stop,” he pants.
“You don’t want to fuck me?” My natural inclination is to hide the hurt in my voice, even though I know we need to be open and honest with each other. I need to be honest.
“Bex Marie, if you want me to fuck you, I need you to stop touching me.” He brings my hand to his heart, which is pounding rapid-fire. “I’m this close to the edge already, and I’m not even inside you.”
“Well, let’s change that.”
He kisses my smile, quick, before easing back and reaching for that box of condoms. With desperate movements, he rips open the shrink-wrap and tears into the cardboard, half demolishing it. It’s not like we need the box for anything.
He produces a foil square, making quick work of opening it and rolling the polyurethane protection over his length.
I roll onto my back, pulling him with me and wrapping my legs around his waist. Call me a hopeless romantic, but after all the different ways we’ve been together, what I want most is to gaze into his eyes while he fucks me, see the emotions on his face as we move together.
And I get my wish.
Nick inches inside me, giving me time to adjust to his thick cock. When I nod, ready, he drops a quick kiss to my lips before fucking me in even strokes. He feels so good inside me. Even though I had him this morning—rushed and frantic as it was—it can’t possibly compare to this.
I’ve missed this. Missed him.
“Nick, I—” My voice chokes off on a gasp, and I claw at his back, my nails digging into his powerful muscles.
“I know, Bex Marie. I know,” he coos, brushing the back of his knuckles across my cheek. “It’s the same for me.”
The air thickens with the scent of sex, of sweat, of him and me and us. He drops kiss after kiss on my neck as he moves inside me, taking his time. Taking care of me.
“What do you need, honey? What can I give you?”
“Just give me you.”
He grinds in deep, his cock throbbing inside me. “I don’t know if I can hold out.”
“You can, and you will.” The tables have turned, and where before I was ready to cede control, I’m now taking it back. I thread my hands through his hair, gripping the strands. “Be a good boy for me. Make me come.”
The cords in his neck pulse. “Bex Marie, I—”
“Touch me. Kiss me.”
With a sigh of relief, he ducks his head and takes my mouth, his kiss consuming me. His hand snakes between us, massaging my breasts, pinching my nipples. I squirm against him, taking what he so freely gives.
And when lightning strikes and my entire body lights up, he keeps going, fucking me through it. His mouth ghosts over mine, his kiss a brush of lips on lips, his breath mingling with mine.
“Come for me,” I pant. “Show me how good you are.”
Nick manages two more shaky thrusts before he tenses above me, his cock pulsing deep inside me.
His tortured moan lights up my pleasure center just as much as my orgasm did.
Sweat-slick skin to skin, he slumps against me, burying his face in my neck.
The scratch of his stubble makes me hum with satisfaction.
“You were such a good boy,” I tell him, carding my fingers through his hair. “So good for me.”
“Just for you,” he murmurs.
He’s gone above and beyond to show me all the ways he cares. All the ways he’s thought of me. Even when I was prickly or downright hostile to him, he’s refused to let me push him away.
For the first time in forever, my mind falls quiet. Where usually I’d hyperfixate on the depths of his feelings for me, now, I can just… accept it. Live in the moment. Enjoy it.