Chapter Twenty-Five #2
“Nathan,” she pleads. “I need more.”
Switching gears, I lay her across her desk. Her legs spread before me, her breasts that I’ve pleasured now are nice and taut. What a beautiful sight she is like this. But I need to see more of her.
I have my hands travel down her hips to the hem of her skirt, inching the fabric upward until I can slide my palm along her thigh. The higher my fingers go, the more the need to touch her sweet pussy grows. I trace the edge of her underwear with teasing lightness, seeing how soaked the fabric has become.
“Please,” she whimpers, trying to grind herself against my fingers and shifting restlessly against my touch.
I pull back just enough to look into her eyes, needing to see her completely when I ask, “Are you sure? We can stop?—”
“Don’t you dare stop,” she interrupts, her gaze locking with mine, desperate and filled with desire.
I catch her lips again as my hand pulls off her panties, revealing her pussy to me, the smell of her consuming my nostrils. A sweet musk that’s so her. I lower myself to her soaking core. The slick heat I see nearly undoes me. So pink, so wet, and all mine. To know I still affect her this way after everything fills me with triumph.
I stroke her clit in slow, small circles at first. Though I’d only touched her like this a few days ago, I want to take my time with her. To relearn the pressure and rhythm that makes her breath catch and turns her moans into screams.
My slow pleasure must be affecting her because she squirms under my touch, pulls herself closer, anything to get more friction. With one hand I hold her down with my hand against her stomach while I slip two fingers inside her with the other. I curve them at the sweet spot behind her clit. Her body arches more, her breath becomes more erratic. With my thumb, I circle her clit again, this time with more speed. Not enough to send her over but enough to rile her up.
Her breaths turn into desperate moans, her body squirms more under my hold, and the sweet cream of her pussy coats my fingers. She’s close, but I don’t want her to come undone just yet.
I’m so thirsty.
I pull my fingers from her core, kissing the inside of her thigh. She melts back into the desk; an aroused sigh escapes her lips. “Please, yes.”
I reach closer and closer to her sex until I rake my tongue through her slit. She’s plump, soaking, and ready. Tasting her again is like finally coming home. Why the fuck did I ever walk away in the first place? To think I was ready to never have this with her again, never have her again.
I swipe at her hard clit, keeping my focus on the sensitive bud. Mixing the touch of point and pressure, I suck, lave, and tease. I feel her thighs on both sides of my head begin to shake. Perfect.
Quickly, her toes curl, her fingers dig into my scalp, pulling me farther into her essence. She’s close, which is a stunning sight to see.
“I…I need you.” She tries to breathe through her climax.
I quickly replace my tongue with my fingers again, keeping the same pace that’s slowly setting her on fire. “That’s it, little one,” I encourage her. “Let go for me. Come.”
I feel her walls around my fingers clench, her body stiffen. Her thighs tremble against my hips as her breath catches a sob of release. Crashing her lips to mine, I hold her through every wave of orgasm, every aftershock, pressing gentle kisses to her temple and lips.
But I’m not done yet. Not even close. Just not here.
I withdraw my hand and lean forward to meet her eyes. They’re dazed and dilated. Her cheeks are red, her breathing rapid. All with a lazy smile.
I can’t help but grin back. “How are you feeling?” I say, caressing her face.
She moans. “I want more.” She sits up, reaching for my belt, but I stop her. My hand covering hers. She looks up at me with a combination of arousal and confusion.
“Not here,” I say softly. “I want to take you home. You deserve better than this.”
This reconnection deserves more than a quickie on her office desk, as tempting as it is in the moment. I want to take my time with her, give her space and privacy, a bed where I can worship her properly.
Slowly nodding in understanding, she lets go of my belt. “Your place or mine?” she asks as I help her down from the desk, steadying her when her legs tremble beneath her. Her smile is both shy and seductive as she retrieves her blouse from the desk.
Good, because by morning, she’ll be unable to walk.
“Mine. Tonight is about you. So keep your panties off.”
Quinn
The drive to his apartment is the longest twenty minutes of my life. Of all the evenings, this one seems to be the one where we hit every red light. Each stop makes waiting feel like an eternity, especially when every car in front of us is moving impossibly slow.
Nathan’s hand rests on my thigh. His thumb tracing circles close to my inner thigh that send shivers up my spine. I can’t stop stealing glances at his profile—the strong line of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes as he focuses on the road, the tight grip of the steering wheel that tells me he’s just as impatient as I am.
When we finally pull into his apartment complex, I’m practically vibrating with anticipation. His hand catches mine as we walk from the car to his door, our fingers intertwined.
Handing me his keys, I fumble with opening the door, suddenly nervous despite the fact he’s already seen me naked and driven me to orgasm with his hands and tongue several times.
Nathan stands directly behind me, his hands gliding up and down my waist and hips. His breath warm against my neck, his hard chest at my back as his erection presses against me. He’s distracting me to where I almost drop the keys.
Finally, when I do manage to get the door open, he follows me inside, closing the door firmly behind us.
I turn to face him. For a moment, we just stand in his darkened entryway. Only streetlamps that filter through the curtains light the space. Tonight feels different. Being here with him—in his space again—brings back the same rush of emotions I used to have when we were together. Then I needed him, craved him, loved him. And with this similar feeling, I know that hasn’t changed. I just never thought I’d feel like that with anyone, much less him, again.
He reaches for a light switch, illuminating his apartment in a soft glow, before closing what little distance there is between us. Meeting him halfway, I stand on my toes and press my lips against his. The kiss starts slow, deliberate, but quickly ignites into something similar to a ravenous hunger, from both of us.
He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me into his chest. His heart races beneath my palms. “Jump,” he demands in a rough voice between kisses.
I immediately do as he says, and in one smooth motion, he lifts me. I wrap my legs instantly around his waist, my arms around his shoulders, my hands in his hair as he carries me through his apartment toward the bedroom.
He lays me down with careful tenderness, the mattress dipping beneath our combined weight as his body follows mine. The feeling of his body on mine is as natural as breathing air. A respite from being surrounded by an unknown world. Familiar yet thrillingly new, as though returning to a beloved place and seeing it with fresh eyes. His hands cup my face as he looks down at me, something like wonder in his expression, as if he can’t quite believe we’re here.
My fingers find the buttons of his shirt, working them open with growing urgency. I need to feel his skin against mine, need to erase the distance that has kept us apart for too long. The heat between us builds as more clothes fall away, each layer a barrier removed, bringing us closer to what we both desperately want, what we need.
“Slow down, little one,” he murmurs against my neck, his lips trailing fire down the sensitive column of my throat. “We have all night. And I intend on savoring every moment. And every inch of you.”
The look in his eyes as he pulls back to meet my gaze steals my breath. Since I ran into Nathan a little over two weeks ago now, he always looked at me with a hard, almost angry expression. With that look, it was difficult to remember a time when his expressions were as soft as his voice was to me in bed. So trusting, vulnerable, and filled with devotion and desire. Now, I don’t know if my eyes are deceiving me or not, but I’m seeing that long-missed expression now. This time, however, there’s something deeper, something that assures me his words, touches, caresses, kisses, and I love yous mean forever.
He cups my face, his thumbs brushing my cheekbones with infinite tenderness.
“I’ve missed you so much baby, more than you know.” He speaks with a rough edge to his voice. “I want to be with you again, to taste you, hear the sounds you make when I’m inside you.”
This moment is so perfect, I’m almost afraid it’s only a dream.
His words send heat pooling low in my belly, and my heart clenches at his admission, at the fact there are no walls between us, almost like it was before.
I reach up to trace the lines of his face, relearning the features I once knew better than my own. There may be an extra forehead line at his temple, but he’s still my Nate.
“Me, too,” I whisper, allowing myself to be completely honest and vulnerable with him. “When you left, I tried so hard to forget you. To move on. I couldn’t.”
His kiss in response is fierce, possessive, as if he’s trying to erase all the lonely nights with a single touch. One hand threads through my hair, cradling the back of my head while the other slides down my side, tracing the curve of my waist, the flare of my hip. My body arches toward him instinctively, seeking more contact.
I feel his hands everywhere, tracing the curve of my waist, skimming along my ribs until his thumbs brush the undersides of my breasts. Each touch ignites a new flame, an insatiable one, until I’m burning from the inside out. He ignites nerves that have been dormant too long. I realize the only person who can tame this flame building inside me, consuming me slowly, is him.
Each newly revealed expanse of skin is met with appreciative touches, with hungry kisses. When he has me completely bare and under him, his hands touch me all over as though reacquainting himself with my body.
He loses his pants moments later, revealing his well-hung cock that I’d always been addicted to. And with the way this vision of him makes me blush, has me breathing heavy and my heart racing, probably still am.
When we’re skin to skin and there are no more barriers between us, I climb on top of him. I marvel at the sight before me. The moonlight filters through the curtains, casting him in silver and shadow which highlights the strong lines of his shoulders and the defined muscles of his chest and abdomen. He’s always been handsome—devastatingly so—but there’s something almost otherworldly about him now. Whether it’s his good genetics or the fact we’ve reconciled or that it’s both, I don’t know. All I do know is that this moment is just us, reconnecting in the most primal way.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he breathes, his gaze drinking me in with naked adoration. His hands slide up my thighs where I straddle him, fingers digging gently into my flesh. “More beautiful than I remembered.”
I feel my cheeks flush from his words, the intensity of his gaze. With him looking at me like this—as though I’m the only woman in his eyes, like I’m his most precious thing—I should feel vulnerable, exposed. Instead, I feel powerful, desired, and shockingly, at home.
“I want to take my time with you,” he says, voice husky with desire. “Learn you all over again.”
Before I can respond, he sits up beneath me, one hand cradling the back of my head as he brings our lips together. The kiss is different from the hungry ones we’ve shared since entering his apartment—slower, deeper, more deliberate. His tongue traces the seam of my lips before sliding inside, tasting me with such thorough attention that my toes curl. I can feel his restraint in the tension of his muscles beneath my hands, in the careful way he holds me.
When he pulls back, his eyes are dark with promise. “Lie back for me, baby.”
I slide off him, moving to lie in the center of his bed. The sheets are cool against my heated skin, a delicious contrast that makes me shiver. Nathan kneels beside me, his heated gaze traveling over my body as if he were physically touching me.
“Having you here feels unreal,” he confesses, his voice rough with emotion. “Having you here, spread out for me like this…I want to memorize every inch of you.”
He starts with my face, tracing the contours with gentle fingertips—the arch of my eyebrows, the slope of my nose, the curve of my cheekbones. When he reaches my lips, I can’t resist kissing his fingers, drawing a small smile from him.
“Your mouth,” he murmurs, thumb brushing my lower lip, “has haunted me. The way you smile, the way you laugh. The sounds you make when I touch you just right.”
He replaces his thumb with his lips, the kiss slow and sweet before he moves on, trailing his mouth down my neck. His tongue finds my pulse point, lingering there. My fingers thread through his hair, not guiding, just connecting as he charts his own course.
Nathan takes his time exploring the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder, alternating between gentle nips and soothing kisses until I’m arching beneath him, already breathless with want. But he’s only just begun.
His hands slide down my arms, fingers interlacing with mine briefly before continuing their journey. When he reaches my breasts, he doesn’t immediately touch them, instead circling closer and closer, watching my face.
“You’re teasing me,” I accuse softly, squirming beneath his gaze, anything to get him to touch the sensitive areas.
“No,” he corrects, his smile both tender and wicked. “I’m savoring you.”
Finally, his palm covers one breast, the warmth of his hand making me sigh with pleasure. He kneads gently, his touch both familiar and thrillingly new after so long apart.
“Perfect,” he murmurs, thumb brushing across my nipple, watching as it pebbles beneath his touch. “Always so responsive to me.”
He lowers his head, replacing his hand with his mouth, the wet heat of his tongue circling my nipple before drawing it between his lips. The sensation sends a bolt of pleasure straight to my core, making me gasp and arch toward him. He lavishes his attention on first one breast, then the other, until I’m writhing beneath him, hands clutching at his shoulders.
“Nathan,” I breathe, my voice already wrecked with need.
“Patience, little one,” he soothes, pressing kisses down the center of my torso.
His exploration continues downward, pausing to trace the curve where my waist flares to my hip. His hands slide beneath me, cupping my ass and lifting me slightly as he nips at the sensitive flesh just below my hipbone, marking me in a place only he’ll see.
“I remember how ticklish you are right there,” he says, fingers dancing lightly along my sides, making me squirm and laugh despite the heat building between us. “And how sensitive you are here.” His mouth moves to the inside of my thigh, so close to where I need him but not close enough.
The anticipation is a delicious torture. Each kiss, every touch is deliberate, purposeful. He’s mapping me, reclaiming territory he once knew by heart. My skin feels hypersensitive, nerve endings firing wherever his hands or mouth land. Time stretches and compresses, minutes start to feel like hours, seconds stretching to infinity as he worships my body.
When he finally settles between my thighs, his breath hot against my core, I’m already trembling with need. He looks up the length of my body, his eyes meeting mine, seeking permission even now.
“Please,” I whisper, reaching down to brush his hair back from his forehead. “I need you.”
“You have me,” he promises, then lowers his head.
The first touch of his tongue is an explosion of sensation, pulling a moan from deep in my throat. He groans in response, the vibration adding another layer of sensation as he explores me with the same thoroughness he’s shown the rest of my body. Long, slow strokes alternate with teasing circles around the bundle of nerves that has me gasping his name.
Nathan’s hands grip my thighs, holding me open to him. As though I were his sustenance. His tongue dips inside me, then returns to circle my clit with maddening precision. Just when I think I might break from the pleasure, he slides one finger inside me, then another, curving them to find that spot that makes stars explode behind my eyelids.
“That’s it, baby,” he encourages against my sensitive flesh, his voice vibrating through me. “Let go for me. Show me how good it feels.”
The combination of his fingers inside me, his tongue against my clit, and his words is too much. Pleasure crests and breaks like a wave, washing over me in pulses that have me crying out his name, my back arching off the bed. But Nathan doesn’t stop—he gentles his touch but keeps going, drawing out my orgasm until I’m trembling, my hands tugging at his hair.
He presses one last kiss to my inner thigh before slowly making his way back up my body, his lips never leaving my skin. By the time he reaches my mouth, I’ve caught my breath enough to kiss him back properly, tasting myself on his tongue.
“You’re even more beautiful when you come in my bed,” he says, brushing damp hair from my forehead. “I’ve missed watching you fall apart for me.”
I reach between us, finally taking him in my hand, feeling the velvety hardness of his cock pulse against my palm. “I want you inside me,” I tell him, loving how his breath catches at my touch. “Please, Nathan.”
He kisses me deeply, then reaches between us to position himself at my entrance. “Look at me,” he says, and I open my eyes I hadn’t realized were half closed. The connection between us deepens as our gazes lock, something profound passing between us that transcends the physical.
Slowly, inch by amazing inch, he pushes forward. The stretch and fullness are both familiar and overwhelmingly new. I wrap my leg around his waist, drawing him deeper until he’s buried to the hilt inside me.
“You feel like coming home,” he whispers, his voice reverent, almost shaking with emotion.
For a long moment, he doesn’t move, just rests his forehead against mine, our breaths mingling. This moment between us feels sacred somehow, more meaningful than just physical pleasure.
When he finally begins to move, it’s with deliberate slowness, drawing almost completely out before pushing all the way back in. I gasp as my toes curl and my breath catches in my throat. Each stroke is measured, controlled, hitting places that have my pleasure climbing steadily. My body remembers him—the perfect rhythm, the way he angles his hips to brush against my clit, driving me closer to orgasm. I can feel every inch of him, the delicious friction sending sparks of pleasure racing up my spine with each careful thrust. His eyes never leave mine, watching every flicker of pleasure cross my face.
“I love you,” he whispers, the words falling from his lips with such raw honesty that it takes my breath away. His eyes never leave mine, watching for my reaction, vulnerable in a way I’ve never seen him before.
His movements falter for just a heartbeat as he waits for my response. My heart swells so suddenly I feel tears fall from my eyes.
“Nathan,” I breathe, reaching up to cup his face. “I love you too. I never stopped loving you.”
Relief washes over his face. He captures my mouth in a deep, passionate kiss, his hips still moving in that steady rhythm that’s quickly rebuilding the pleasure inside me.
“Say it again,” I urge against his lips, needing to hear those words that I’d given up hope of ever hearing from him again.
“I love you, Quinn,” he repeats, his voice rough with emotion. “Always.”
His confession has my heart soaring as he quickens his pace. A second climax builds faster than the first. I clutch at his shoulders as the tension coils tighter and tighter.
“Oh, god. Yes, baby,” he encourages, his movements becoming less controlled, more urgent. “Come with me.”
His hand slides between us, circling my sensitive bud with just the right pressure. The dual sensation of him inside me and his skilled touch above pushes me over the edge. Pleasure washes over me, more intense than before. My inner walls clench tightly around him.
“Quinn.” Nathan follows only moments later, my name a prayer on his lips as he finds his release, his body tensing and then relaxing above me, inside me. His weight drops onto his forearms, keeping himself fully inside me and maintaining our closeness.
For several minutes, we simply breathe together, not wanting to break the connection. His fingers trace lazy patterns on my shoulder, my hair, as if he can’t bear to stop touching me now that he has me back in his arms. I feel the same, my hands roaming the strong planes of his back, relearning the dips and curves of his muscles.
Eventually, he shifts to the side, gathering me against his chest where I can hear his steady heartbeat. My leg drapes over his, my arm across his torso, our bodies fitting together as if designed for this very purpose.
“What are you thinking?” he asks after a long, comfortable silence, his voice gentle in the darkened room.
I consider the question, trying to untangle the jumble of emotions inside me—satisfaction, hope, lingering traces of fear, overwhelming love. So much to process.
“I’m thinking that I never expected this,” I admit, tracing abstract patterns on his chest with my fingertip. “That two weeks ago, I would have said this was impossible.”
“And now?”
I prop myself up on one elbow, looking down at him in the dim light. His features are soft, open, more vulnerable than I’ve ever seen them.
“Now I’m thinking that maybe some things are worth rebuilding.” I trace the line of his jaw with my fingertip. “Even if it takes time. Even if it’s hard.”
Nathan catches my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm. “I’ll spend every day proving that this—that we are worth it. That you can trust me again. I got you, and you got me.”
“One day at a time?” I smile.
“One day at a time,” he agrees, pulling me back. “I know there’s no erasing the past, but I want to learn from it.”
“That’s what I want, too.” For the first time in a year, I let myself finally live in the knowledge that Nathan is mine, that there is, and always will be, a future with him. It won’t be perfect and not without its challenges, but that’s exactly how I want our relationship to be. A love that’s ours.
Just as I’m drifting off, I feel Nathan shift beside me. His movement pulls me back from the edge of sleep.
“Quinn,” he whispers, sitting up. “There’s something I need to ask you.”
The seriousness in his voice chases away the last remnants of drowsiness. I turn to face him fully, finding his expression both nervous and determined in the dim light.
“What is it?” I ask, suddenly wide awake, timid.
Nathan takes a deep breath, then reaches for his pants on the floor. My breath catches as he pulls out a small velvet box.
“I bought this a year ago,” he says, his voice soft but steady. “A week before…everything. I was going to ask you when the NorthStar deal went through.”
My heart is hammering against my chest as he opens the box, revealing a stunning oval-cut diamond set in a delicate white-gold band. It shines against the moonlight filtering through the curtains.
“I never returned it,” he continues, his eyes never leaving mine. “Even when I was at my angriest, even when I thought I was meant to hate you forever…I couldn’t let it go. Couldn’t let what we had go.”
Tears fill my eyes, blurring my vision as he takes the ring from its velvet nest.
“I know it’s fast,” he says, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice. “We’ve only just found our way back to each other. But I don’t want to waste another day, another minute without you knowing exactly how I feel, what I want.”
He takes my hand, the warmth of his palm steady against my trembling fingers.
“Quinn Marie Sanders, I’ve loved you from the moment you walked into my life, and I never stopped, even when I tried to convince myself otherwise. Will you make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?”
Tears escape, rolling down my cheeks as joy consumes me to where I can hardly breathe. For a moment, I’m speechless, overwhelmed by the magnitude of this moment, of today in general. Of what we’ve overcome to get here.
“Yes, yes!” I finally manage, my voice breaking on the word. “I’ll marry you.”
His smile is radiant as he slides the ring onto my finger. It fits perfectly, sitting on my ring finger as though it was meant to be there.
He pulls me to him, his kiss tender yet passionate, sealing our promise to each other.