Chapter 25 #4
I lift it slowly, hesitant. She takes it gently, pressing it between her hands, her warmth seeping into my skin. Then, she moves, guiding my hand with hers, sliding down over my chest.
Her fingers intertwine with mine, featherlight, barely there—her touch a whisper against my skin as she leads me over the ridges of my stomach, the curve of my ribs as if she’s mapping me out, memorizing me through the bridge of our joined hands.
The contact is so soft it undoes me.
And yet, it burns.
“Trouble,” I rasp, my pulse hammering as she keeps guiding me, keeps touching me. And I don’t know if I want her to stop or never stop.
She doesn’t pull away. Her fingers drift lower, skating over every scar, every place I once swore no one would touch. Each pass feels like a match striking against the ice that’s kept me locked away.
Her fingers press a little harder, tracing the line of muscle down to my ribs. I can’t help it, my breath hitches. My chest rises into her palm, silently begging for more.
“Touch me, please.” My voice is rough, raw. I don’t ask for things like this, but I’m asking her.
Nova looks up, her eyes blazing, half fire, half tenderness. The way she watches me?
It’s like she’s touching my soul as much as my skin.
She presses her palm flat against my heart, and something inside me breaks. Not in the way that hurts. No, it’s the kind of breaking that makes you whole.
I close my eyes and sink into it.
Her fingertips continue their slow, maddening path up my neck, across my jaw, and brushing over my shoulder. She lingers there, and my breath catches again.
When I open my eyes, she’s still watching me, and, God, there’s so much love in her expression that it wrecks me.
“Lie on your stomach for me.”
I hesitate. Lying on my stomach makes me vulnerable. There’s no defense in that position. But this is Nova. She’s not here to hurt me.
I’m safe with her.
Slowly, I roll over, every muscle tight as a bowstring. My breathing is uneven, and I hate how exposed I feel, but then her hand skims down my back, and fuck, everything unravels.
Her fingers trace the ridges of my spine, following the line all the way down. But my skin is hypersensitive. Every pass of her fingers sends jolts of electricity straight to my cock.
By the time her hand reaches the small of my back, I’m burning from the inside out.
I shift against the mattress, biting back a groan as heat pools low in my stomach.
“You’re shaking,” she whispers, her hand pressing a little firmer. “I’ve got you.”
I’m coming apart at the seams, not from fear but from her touch and the slow, deliberate way she’s unraveling every wall I’ve ever built.
She drags her nails lightly up my back, and my entire body arches without my permission. A sound escapes me—half growl, half plea.
God, help me.
Her hand slides lower again, tracing slow circles over my lower back, then up to my shoulder blades. I press into the mattress, but it doesn’t help. It only makes the friction worse. I’m painfully hard again, my entire body wired and buzzing from her touch.
“Nova,” I rasp.
She leans over me, brushing her lips against the nape of my neck. “I’m here.”
My fear doesn’t stand a chance against her.
I’m not falling apart anymore.
I’m falling into her.
Her touch leaves me when she stretches out on her stomach beside me, sliding her hands beneath the pillow. I push myself up to my elbows and watch how her back arches, every line of her graceful, her hair spilling over her shoulder like silk.
My pulse is still pounding from everything she’s undone in me.
But now?
Now it’s my turn.
I trace the dip of her spine the way she did mine. “You have no idea what you just did to me.”
She hums softly, her eyes fluttering shut.
I shift to hover over her, my hand sliding up her side, stopping below her ribs, making her shiver. Leaning down, I press a gentle kiss between her shoulder blades. Then I kiss my way down, following the path my fingers made, lingering at the small of her back.
Her hips shift, a desperate little motion, and I smile against her skin. I trail my hands down her sides, then grip her hips, lifting them to give me access to the G-string that is still pushed to the side. I pull the fabric down her legs and off her, leaving her bare.
Dripping with my cum.
Holy shit.
If I weren’t already hard again, I would be now.
She lets out a soft, needy sound, her fingers curling into the sheets. “Ace…”
I run my fingers through her folds, spreading my cum mixed with her wetness.
She gasps while I press a kiss to the curve of her ass, then slip a finger inside her, the tight heat clenching around me.
A moan breaks from her throat, muffled by the pillow, and I add another finger, moving in and out with a slow, languid rhythm.
“Will you let me try again?” My thumb finds her clit, circling it with gentle pressure. “Maybe I’ll last longer the second time around.”
Her moans grow louder. “Yes, please. Fuck me, Ace.”
I pull out my fingers, and she gasps at the loss when I shift behind her, positioning myself so I’m kneeling between her legs. Leaning down and over her, I press my forehead to her shoulder for a moment, trying to ground myself.
I can’t come too early twice in one night.
But the sound she makes, a soft, desperate moan, nearly breaks me. Her hips tilt back, inviting me in, and she’s trembling beneath me. I press myself against her, letting my cock drag up and down her slit, teasing her clit with every slow glide.
Her body arches, a whimper escaping her lips. “Please…” she gasps, “… please, Ace. I need you.”
My eyes squeeze shut at the sound of her begging when I lower myself over her, my chest pressing against her back, my hands sliding beneath her to cup her breasts.
Her breath hitches, her nipples hardening against my palms. It surprises me how okay this is, how natural it feels to hold her like this.
Her hands are still tucked beneath her, making sure I’m the one doing the touching, that there’s no sudden shift I can’t handle. It helps. God, it helps.
I press my lips to her neck, tasting her skin as I knead her breasts, my thumbs circling her nipples. She moans, the sound vibrating through us, and I press my hips against her, sliding my cock through her slit again.
“You’re my whole fucking life, Nova.”
“Please.”
Shifting back, I line myself up, pressing the tip of my cock against her entrance, where I pause, my hands tightening on her breasts as I take a shaky breath. Then, slowly, I push inside her, and it feels like the first time again.
She’s perfect, tight, and hot, and a groan tears from my throat. She moans beneath me, her body arching as I sink deeper, inch by inch until I’m fully seated inside her.
“Fuck,” I groan, my forehead resting against her shoulder. “You feel so good. So fucking perfect.”
She moans again, her hips pressing back against me. “Ace…”
The sound of her saying my name sends a jolt of pleasure through me, and I start to move, pulling out slowly before sliding back in. Surprisingly, this is easier. Having the control, me fucking her, not her riding me, makes it easier not to come too quickly again.
I want to make this good for her.
My hand slides between her and the bed, finding her clit. I circle it slowly, matching the rhythm of my hips, and her moans turn into pleading cries. My other hand stays on her breast, my thumb brushing her nipple.
“You’re perfect,” I whisper in her ear. “Your pussy’s perfect. God, Nova, you’re everything.”
She gasps, her body trembling, and I know she’s getting closer. Her moans grow louder, her hips grinding against my hand and cock, and I lose myself in the sound of her, in the way she’s falling apart beneath me.
With a final flick of my fingers over her clit, she cries out, her body locking up as she comes.
Her walls squeeze me like a fist, and the sensation rips through me, my own release slamming into me with the force of a freight train.
I bury myself deep inside her, my cock pulsing as I spill into her for a second time, a broken moan tearing from my lips.
With a shuddering breath, I finally ease down, careful not to crush her beneath me while staying inside her, unwilling to lose the connection.
I need to stay close, closer than skin, closer than breath.
Her body is still trembling as she melts into the mattress, and I slowly shift to lie beside her and wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her back against my chest. She lets out a contented sigh, her fingers brushing lazily over mine as I hold her.
Our bodies fit together like they were made to.
My lips find her shoulder, pressing gentle, lingering kisses to the jagged scar. I kiss it over and over again as if I can rewrite every painful memory it holds with nothing but love.
She hums softly, half asleep already, and I feel her heartbeat syncing with mine. Each kiss grows softer until my lips barely brush her skin.
The fear that’s haunted me for so long fades with every steady breath she takes in my arms.
Her touch shattered something in me tonight, something I thought I’d never let go of. And instead of falling apart, I fell into her.
She’s my undoing and my salvation.
I bury my face in the curve of her neck, my eyes growing heavier with each slow beat of her pulse beneath my lips. “I love you, Nova,” I whisper again, the words tasting like truth.
She murmurs too soft for me to catch, but I don’t need to hear it. I know.
I close my eyes, my body wrapped around hers, and as sleep pulls me under, I hold on to the feeling of her, the proof that maybe I’m allowed to have this.
To love her.
To be loved back.