Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
ADDISON
His hands were everywhere and nowhere all at once. Gentle, barely there caresses over my skin—the dip of my waist, the curve of my hip, the back of my knee—but never where I needed. Never where I ached.
It was so dark, I couldn’t even make out his silhouette.
I only knew his satisfied sounds and the sensations he was dragging out of me as he swept his hands over my body.
A flick of his tongue over my nipple, the ghost of his fingers down my spine, his shoulders pushing my thighs apart, and then hot breath on my pussy before his tongue was finally, finally licking me and dragging a moan straight from my—
I startled awake, slowly blinking into the dark room.
My body was thrumming with need, my nipples hard and my panties an absolute mess.
It took me only a moment to realize I’d made the sound that had woken me.
My hand was tucked between my legs, rubbing my clit through the lace of my panties, but it wasn’t enough.
It never was.
Waking up like this—on the brink of orgasm, thanks to nothing more than the memory of a man who’d haunted me for years—wasn’t anything new for me.
So, I did what I always did. I slipped my hand beneath the material of my panties and stroked a finger through my wet slit, my low moan barely a breath in the otherwise still and silent room.
“Those noises better be for me, firefly.”
I startled at the low, raspy voice, layers of awareness slowly seeping into my sleep-drunk brain.
The appointment with the agent. Getting snowed in at Chase’s new home.
Me curling up on the floor in one of his guest rooms, and him carrying me to his bed sometime later.
Then falling asleep once again, this time in his arms…
Arms that tightened around me now.
Chase’s chest was warm against my back, and he pressed his nose to my neck, inhaling deeply. Just the feel of him behind me shot fireworks through my body, every nerve ending responding to him as if they’d been waiting for it. Waiting for him.
My clit throbbed beneath my stilled fingers as I remembered exactly what had woken me.
Those moans had been for him. The dream had been a memory of the last time we’d been together, when he’d been home over Christmas more than a year ago.
When everything had changed. He’d snuck into my bedroom in the middle of the night, just like he’d told me he would, and had woken me up with an orgasm, courtesy of his mouth.
I bit my lip to stifle a whimper as my pussy clenched around nothing. As subtly as I could, I pressed my fingers harder against my clit, so desperate to come, I didn’t even care that he was lying at my back.
He hummed into my neck, his breath sending goose bumps skating across my skin. “My baby’s all worked up, isn’t she?”
I made a sound of protest—as if I were in a position to deny anything, with my panties a mess and my fingers wet from the evidence—but he cut me off before I could respond.
“Don’t even try to deny it. You’ve got your hand between those perfect thighs, playing with my little pussy as if I’m not lying right behind you, ready to give you exactly what you need.”
I shuddered out a moan, the pulse of my clit a constant reminder of just exactly what I hadn’t accomplished in my dream.
“Are you making it nice and wet for me?” He brushed his lips up and down the column of my neck, his tongue tracing soft circles behind my ear. “I want to know what got you so turned on you had to be a naughty fucking girl and finger yourself while you’re lying next to me…”
And fuck me, but I always forgot how much his mouth affected me. His words, all growly and rough, said with a mixture of desperation and command, were usually my undoing, and tonight was no exception.
My fingers were right there, and it wouldn’t take much. A shift of my wrist, some tight, targeted circles over my clit, and I’d go off.
But where was the satisfaction in that?
Especially when he was right here, the too-large-to-ignore proof of just how much he was affected by me tucked tight against my ass, his hips subtly rocking against me as if he wasn’t even aware he was doing it.
“Did you have a dirty dream, baby girl?”
“Yes,” I breathed.
“Tell me.” From the way the words seemed to be torn from his throat, it sounded more like his last dying request than any kind of demand.
After long moments, I admitted, “It was about you.”
He muttered a curse under his breath, like he hadn’t even allowed himself to hope for that. He pressed his cock harder against me, and I was ashamed to realize I was arching back into him and meeting his thrusts, my body aching for relief.
I stilled, embarrassed, and he wrapped a hand around my hip, digging his fingers into my flesh. To hold himself back or urge me on, I wasn’t sure.
Into my neck, he said, “Don’t stop now. Tell me exactly what got my pussy so worked up.”
I didn’t know if it was because we were both soft and sleepy in a cocoon of darkness, a safe space for secrets whispered into the night.
Or because the anger had already drained out of me.
Or because it had been more than a year since I’d had a non-self-induced orgasm.
But I found myself wanting to tell him exactly what had gotten me here.
Exactly what had made my panties wet and my nipples hard and my body primed and ready.
For him.
“Last Christmas,” I whispered. “When you woke me up licking my pussy.”
He hummed into my skin, brushing his lips down the column of my neck before sinking his teeth into the juncture where it met my shoulder. “You mean when you gave me orders to do just that?”
Fine, I may have told him if he wanted to sneak into my room that night and wake me up to get some, he’d better do so with an orgasm courtesy of his mouth. Especially if he expected me to take the monster between his legs…
“Do you want to hear the story or not?” I asked.
“I really fucking do.”
I closed my eyes, remembering it like it was yesterday. It was easy enough, considering it’d been my most reached for fap material in the time since. “I was already coming by the time I was awake enough to know what was happening.”
“You tasted so fucking good… I licked you up like you were my last fucking meal, didn’t I? I never waste a drop.”
My body tingled all over at the memory, at his words, goose bumps erupting across my skin. “You had to press a hand over my mouth to muffle my scream because you made me come so hard, so fast.”
He made a self-satisfied sound, his cock twitching against my ass. “Every time, isn’t that right, baby?”
He wasn’t wrong. He always got me off. Without fail. And I was sure the biggest reason for that was because Chase had always, since that very first time, treated my orgasms as if they were more important than his own—as if they were the key to his very fucking survival.
I nodded into the dark, my fingers twitching between my legs, desperate to sink inside. Desperate to make myself come.
“Then what happened?” he asked.
I bit my lip, unsure if I could voice the rest of this. Certain I might spontaneously combust if I did.
“Don’t get shy on me now, firefly.” He slipped a hand under his sweatshirt I wore and pressed it flat against my stomach.
His hand was so large, his pinkie slipped just under the hem of my panties right next to my hand already tucked inside, his thumb grazing the underside of my breast. “You want to show me instead?”
His voice was so low, so gravelly, so thick with desire—for me—I didn’t even take a full breath to think about what I was doing or what it would mean in the light of day before I rolled over and pushed him onto his back.
He went willingly, settling his hands on my hips when I straddled him.
His eyes glittered in the mostly dark room as he stared up at me with hunger and desire and something else I couldn’t name.
I rocked my pussy over the bulge in his boxer briefs, moaning at how fucking good it felt, that phantom ache inside that always craved him flaring to life.
I ran my hands over his bare chest, tracing the tattoos that covered it and trailing my fingers over every dip and contour I knew by heart.
From his collarbone to his defined pecs, to the abs that had been splashed across every social media site a hundred times over.
His body was a finely tuned machine, a fucking work of art, and I wanted to spend hours studying every inch of it…
get lost in it for days. Wanted to drown in him and never come up for air.
Without taking a moment to second-guess myself or to think about how this was an epically bad idea…how I swore I wouldn’t do this with him again…I whipped his sweatshirt over my head and tossed it to the side, along with my panties, before settling astride him once again.
“Oh fuck.” Chase dug his fingers into my bare hips, his gaze darting over every inch of me the moonlight showcased.
“Tell me I can touch you, Addie. Please, please, baby, let me touch you.” His words were strained, the tension coming off him in waves.
And in that moment, I wanted nothing more than for him to do exactly that.
Wanted to feel his hands on me. Everywhere. Fall into him again like I always did.
Get lost for just a little while in this thing between us.
I gripped his wrists and brought his hands up, placing them on my breasts and arching into him. “Touch me.”
With a groan that sounded like it was torn straight from his soul, he cupped my small breasts exactly the way he knew I liked, brushing his thumbs over my nipples until they were stiff peaks under his touch. “Missed these perfect little tits so fucking much.”
He leaned up, circling my nipple with his tongue before lightly scraping his teeth against it. Then he sucked as much of me into his mouth as he could, his tongue laving over my hardened peak, and I arched into him. Desperate for more. Desperate to come.
“God.” Holding the back of his head tight to me, I ground down harder against his cock, my pussy throbbing and needy, aching for something only he could give me.
“That’s my girl. Rub that greedy little cunt all over me. You’re soaking through my boxers, aren’t you? Making a mess all over me.” He groaned, guiding my hips against him, rocking me back and forth over where he was thick and hard for me. “Tell me what you need.”
I knew being with him like this wasn’t the best idea. That I’d probably regret it in the morning. But even knowing that didn’t stop me from diving headfirst into this.
It never did.
“You,” I breathed. “I need you.”
“You have me. Always.” He licked a line between my breasts, nipped at my jaw, and then brushed his lips over the shell of my ear.
“Tell me what you need right now. You want my fingers? My tongue? That cock you keep marking as yours? Or are you going to be my greedy fucking girl tonight and beg for all three?”