23. Nadia
23
NADIA
I never talk dirty.
I’m not sure why I’m doing it. Maybe because the irresistible doctor who’s been sleeping under the same roof as me is finally acting on all the things we’ve both been clearly thinking about.
Or possibly it’s because he knows the books I read, something I’ve never let anyone see. And it’s an undercurrent between us, those soft sex scenes, the act out in the open, nothing to hide, consensual, hot, and in great detail.
Dalton makes it feel like it’s all coming to life.
He pushes my shirt up and over my head. Funny how I got all the way to orgasm without removing any clothes.
Then his mouth is on my belly, grasping the elastic of my shorts with his teeth. He tries to pull them off that way, but I have too much hip, and we both laugh as he wrestles them down.
His fingers slip beneath the lacy edge of my panties. He’s already been all these places, but as he eases them over my thighs, his breath caressing my skin, it’s still so new.
I’ve been here with other men, but Dalton is so attentive, like I’m something precious to behold.
He kisses random places. My ankle. My knee. The jutting bone of my hip. Then he’s back at my mouth. Somewhere along the way, he shed his own clothes. The feel of our full bodies against each other is so intimate, so beautiful, that for a second, tears sting my eyes.
How did we get to this place? I feel like I know him so well, what he wears, how he eats, his routines. But I’ve never known this, the warmth of his skin, the strength of his arms, the smoothness of his chest against mine.
I could live in this moment for the rest of my life, sated but curious, happy but wanting more, relaxed but also filled with anticipation.
He brushes his thumb across my cheek. “Condom okay?”
I nod. We can graduate to other methods later, after more discussion. He reaches over to his drawer in the nightstand. When a wrapper crinkles, I ask, “Have those been there all along?”
“Yes.”
“Right beside us.”
“Waiting.” He shifts to his side.
I can barely make out his shadow, and the movement of the condom over him is impossible to see in the dark.
I reach out to run my hands over his chest, learning every muscle and valley, the heat of his skin, and the trail of hair leading down to his?—
What did they call it in the books?
Cock? Erection? Sword? I smile in the dark. Pickle .
I reach for it, feeling the bump of the lip of the condom and run my fingers lightly along the length. I should have done this before he put it on.
Another night.
And it hits me that I can do this whenever I like. There is no need for dates or restaurants or a dance of will he or won’t he call ?
He’s right here. He lives here.
I grip him with some pressure, and he sucks in a breath. “Nadia…”
What do I want this first time? Something traditional, with him on top of me? Do I want to ride him in his lap? Him behind me? Side-by-side? On the edge of the bed?
So many possibilities.
But as he crawls over my body, kissing his way over my skin, I let him take the lead. With so much time ahead of us, we can explore. Every position. Every way to connect.
When his naked body is over mine, it feels completely right. Like he’s come home. Like this was always meant to be. He brushes loose hair off my forehead, kissing along my jaw. His mouth claims mine again, and it’s glorious to realize I already recognize the taste of him. Another part of Dalton I know.
“I can’t believe we’re here,” he whispers against my hair.
“I know. I always thought we considered this part more the day we met than on any other day.”
He chuckles. “Maybe you thought it more that day.”
I smile against his forehead. “You’re right. I definitely thought about it after seeing you naked coming out of the shower.”
“I may have thought about it almost every day.”
“Really?” He never showed it.
His fingers glide along the side of my breast and down my waist to slip inside me again.
My chin lifts, and I suck in a breath. I can’t believe I want more. I felt so relaxed and sated a minute ago. But now I want him. I want all of him inside me.
“Dalton?”
He knows what I’m asking. Why I’m saying his name. He shifts again, sliding my thighs open with his knee. The sheets beneath my legs feel silky and cool. It’s decidedly sexy, parting for him.
Then he’s there, moving aside his hand to slip inside me.
I gasp as he moves, sending a cascade of pleasure up my body. I see sparks in the dark, maybe those hormones he once talked about. I clutch his back, my knees brushing his elbows as he holds himself over me.
Forget what I said before. This is the part I never want to end. It’s so easy, so glorious, utterly perfect. Tears squeeze from my eyes. This is Dalton. Dalton and me. How we work together on the most intimate level.
His lips brush my forehead. I hadn’t expected the tenderness, although I should have known. The cats. His mom. His job. He cares. A lot. He’s not like the MMA fighters, and maybe even kinder than Max.
My chest expands and I wonder if there will be room here for actual love.
Then Dalton speeds up and all the soft thoughts are obliterated as my body responds. God, he’s got me, and I’m utterly rapt at his every move.
The center of me quivers around him, and I know it’s coming again. Again? Has it ever happened twice for me?
He moves his hand between us, fingers circling my most sensitive spot.
The intensity leaps to a new level. I squeeze my eyes shut, my chin in the air. My back arches as the orgasm takes over. I’m full of light, expanding, drawing in the universe.
I vaguely hear myself crying his name, lost in the pleasure overtaking every part of my body.
Dalton draws it out, plunging into me, working my clit, his mouth near my ear. He’s saying my name, over and over. “Nadia, Nadia.” There’s a desperate note in it that clutches at my heart.
I hold him tightly, collapsing his arms to bring his chest to mine. We slow down as the stars fall around us, the room going quiet, breathing returning to its regular cadence.
He slips to the side and draws me to him, pulling my leg over his hips. We don’t quite separate, not yet, and I feel him twitching inside me.
He presses my head to his chest. We lie there for long moments, his heartbeat a gentle thud against my cheek.
This changes everything, I realize. Will I sleep beside him? No more air mattress? No distance?
Does everything shift from his and mine to ours ? The storage, the space, the fridge?
I’m overthinking it. I clear my head so that I might relax in his arms.
He kisses my hair again, and it might be my favorite thing that he does. A warm glow rises in me. There is no need to think beyond this moment.
But then a quiet mew pierces the dark.
Then another.
We try to ignore it, but then it becomes a chorus.
Both of our bellies shake with the effort of not laughing.
“Is it your turn or mine?” I ask.
“I’ll do it,” he says.
“I’ll help.”
And so we slide apart, searching for our clothes. Dalton discards the condom in a Kleenex.
No matter what happens with the bed situation or how we view being roommates after this, the kitty parenting duties are definitely ours .