Chapter Twenty
Catherine
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T HE BEDROOM WAS DIMLY lit, the soft light from the hallway spilling in through the open door. He led me by the hand, our fingers entwined as he guided me toward his bed.
He pulled me into his arms and kissed me passionately, his hands running down my back to rest on my hips. Our bodies were pressed together, the warmth of his skin seeping through the thin fabric of my blouse.
I reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, revealing his taut abs and broad chest that I knew intimately.
Running my palms over the hard planes of his body, I appreciated the way his muscles flexed beneath my touch. His chest heaved with every breath, a testament to the raw desire that was threatening to consume us both. He reciprocated by undoing the buttons of my blouse, clumsily pulling off the garment and tossing it aside.
He trailed kisses down my neck, causing me to arch into him as he explored each sensitive spot. He stepped back just enough to rid himself of his pants, leaving him standing naked before me. The sight was breathtaking and familiar all at the same time. His body was like a work of art, chiseled and raw, yet soft in places that begged to be touched. I let my gaze wander over him, taking in the sight of his taut muscles and the way they moved beneath his skin.
“You must come from some really good genes,” I said.
I reached out and stroked down his chest, circling his nipples with my fingertips before sliding down to his taut stomach and the trail of hair leading down to his hardness. He shivered under my touch, a groan escaping him as his hands found their way back to my body.
“Why do you say that?” he asked in a husky voice.
“Your body is amazing, but I’ve never seen you work out.”
“Ah, but I do.” He smiled. “Not a lot. But I swim, I run on the treadmill. I put in some work, but yes, some of it is genetics.”
I licked my lips in appreciation. “Well, I for one would like to thank your parents for making such a beautiful man.”
In one swift movement, he pulled me against him, rekindling the fiery connection that thrummed between us. His lips found my neck again, his hot breath against my skin sending shivers of pleasure throughout my body. He lifted me effortlessly, our bodies fitting together as he carried me toward the bed. He laid me down gently, his body hovering over mine. Our eyes locked, the air crackling with tension and desire.
His hands roamed my body as he explored every inch of me, each touch sending sparks flying through my nerves. He kissed over my collar bone and down my breasts.
He took a moment to appreciate each breast. His fingers traced down my stomach, stopping at the edge of my thong. In a matter of seconds, he was peeling it down my legs, leaving me as bare as he was. His gaze roved over me, taking in every inch, and I felt a flush of heat creep up my neck to my cheeks.
“There’s no one else like you, Catherine,” he murmured, his voice filled with raw desire. His fingers slid over the inside of my thigh, his touch feather-light yet setting my skin ablaze. “No one else can make me feel like this.”
He leaned down to press a soft kiss against the inside of my thigh, his stubble scratching lightly against my skin and causing a shiver to ripple through me. The way he was looking at me—like I was the only thing that mattered in the world—was more intoxicating than any amount of alcohol could ever be.
His fingers trailed upward, skimming over the sensitive skin where my thighs met my body. His touch was electric, sending a jolt of pleasure shooting straight through me. He took his time, teasing me, building the anticipation until I was writhing beneath him. His mouth followed the path his fingers had traced, placing soft, feather-light kisses on my inner thighs.
“Tell me what you want,” he murmured against my skin, his hot breath ghosting over my sensitized flesh.
“You,” I whispered, the word spilling from my lips without a second thought.
He chuckled lightly against my skin, the vibrations adding another layer of sensation to the already heated atmosphere. “Specifics, Kitcat.”
I let out a soft whimper as his fingers teased the edge of my core, creating a delicious friction that had me biting my lip to stifle the sounds threatening to escape. “I want your mouth,” I confessed, my voice shaky with desire.
Without a word, he granted my request. He began by planting sweet kisses on my thighs, moving gradually until he was centered between my legs. His breath was hot against my flesh, promising undeniable pleasure. I bit back a gasp as he explored me with his tongue, each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through me.
My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as I surrendered to the insatiable hunger that his mouth was stoking within me. The room echoed with my stifled moans, each one elicited by the exquisite torture he was inflicting on me with his tongue. His hands held my hips in place as I writhed beneath him, the pressure building with an intensity that was nearly unbearable.
“Timothy,” I moaned, my voice barely a whisper. “Yes!”
He responded with a low hum of satisfaction that sent vibrations spinning through me, heightening my pleasure. His skillful mouth continued its assault, pulling sounds from me that I barely recognized as my own.
The sensation was overwhelming, threatening to consume me whole as I gasped and trembled beneath his touch. There was a tight coiling sensation until I was teetering on the edge of release.
“Let go, Catherine,” he murmured against me, his voice low and filled with anticipation. “I’ve got you.”
His words were enough to send me spiraling over the edge, a cry tearing from my throat as my body convulsed beneath him. The intense waves of pleasure left me clinging to him for support, my breath coming in harsh pants as he continued to coax every last shudder from my body. His fingers danced lightly over my hypersensitive skin, drawing out the blissful aftershocks until I was left completely spent and breathless beneath him.
“Good?” he asked in a husky voice, his mouth curving into a satisfied smirk as he climbed back up alongside me.
I managed a weak nod and a contented sigh. He chuckled, pulling me close to him. His chest was warm against my cheek, beating rhythmically in time with mine.
“That was too much,” I moaned. “I think you broke me.”
He laughed and slid over the top of me. “Not yet I haven’t.”
He positioned his body over mine. His erection pressed against my stomach. My body was still enduring one powerful spasm after another.
“Look at me,” he whispered.
I opened my eyes and stared up at him. He brushed his lips gently against mine, barely-there kisses that had me lifting my head to take more from him.
“I need you, Catherine,” he whispered into my mouth, his words filled with a desperate hunger that mirrored my own. “Not just like this. I need you in my life.”
“And you have me,” I assured him.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, urging him to move closer. He moved his hips, sliding his erection over me before lining the head of his cock up with my slick opening. My body throbbed, waiting for him to enter.
“Timothy, please,” I whimpered.
He slid just the tip inside, his eyes still locked on mine. The intimacy of the moment was the most powerful emotion I had ever felt.
He slid in just a tiny bit more. It teased and tantalized and drove me absolutely wild. My fingers slid down his arms and then to his back. My nails scraped over his flesh. He stayed perfectly still. It was too much. I had to move. I pushed my hips up, taking him deeper inside me.
“That’s it,” he encouraged. “Fuck me. Use me.”
His words sent a wave of wicked delight crashing through me. I tightened my legs around him in response. He moaned as I ground my hips against his, seeking the friction I craved. He watched me take charge, the sense of power that came with being able to elicit such reactions from him intoxicating. He stayed perfectly still, his jaw clenched and his weight supported on his arms.
I dug my nails into his back, urging him to go deeper still. He let out a grunt of pleasure as he obliged and pushed himself deeper inside me, the sensation causing me to gasp and arch my back.
“Yes!” I cried out.
Our bodies moved together in a rhythm honed by countless nights of passionate desire, fueled by the raw, unadulterated love shared between us. His chest heaved against mine, his hot breaths mingling with mine as our fervor escalated. I felt him shudder above me, pushing deeper and harder, each thrust sending shivers of delight coursing through my body. I pushed up against him.
“Catherine,” he breathed, his voice thick with need.
Our bodies slammed against each other. The bed rocked against the wall with an intensity that echoed our fervor. Our frantic movements were a raw primal dance of need and longing. The room swam in a haze of lust as we lost ourselves in each other, each eager to satiate the other.
“Timothy,” I gasped. My voice was hoarse from the groans and deep breaths. The animalistic cries echoed through the room and spurred us on.
He brought his lips down to meet mine in a fiery kiss, swallowing every cry and moan that escaped my lips. His hands threaded through my hair, holding me captive to his desires as he rocked into me with a rhythm that was both exhilarating and torturous. I writhed beneath him, my body matching his in a dance as old as time.
He pounded harder, driving himself deeper into me until I could feel the very essence of him within me.
“I love you, Catherine,” he growled into my ear, his voice frayed with the intensity of our shared ecstasy. “I love you so much.”
His confession tore a sob from my lips as he pushed us both over the edge into oblivion. His body tensed above mine, and a roar escaped his lips before he fell on top of me.
We lay in bed together for a while, our hearts finally slowing down to a normal rhythm.
“I think I should spend more time with your dad,” he said.
“Um, we just had the most passionate sex I’ve ever had and you bring up my father?” I joked.
“Sorry. I wasn’t thinking about your dad. I was thinking about how I was going to spend more time with you. That involves getting your father to trust me and to get him well. It’s not like I have a lot of other stuff to do right now. If I’m with him, you can finish Henry’s house. The sooner that’s done, the happier I will be.”
“That’s really thoughtful of you, Timothy,” I said. “I know my dad will appreciate it. He’s probably craving some man time.”
“I want to do whatever I can to help.”
“Thank you, Timothy. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Timothy pressed a kiss to the top of my head, his arms tightening around me. “You don’t have to do anything alone, Catherine,” he whispered. “I’m here for you, always. As far as I’m concerned, I’m always going to be here for you.”
Part of me couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness. Our plans to move in together were still up in the air, overshadowed by the uncertainty of my dad’s health. There was no way in hell my father would move into Timothy’s house. I had to get him healthy before I could even think about moving in with Timothy.