Chapter 27 #2
“That’s a nice thing to say.” He fingers a lock of my hair, then slips his hand under the strands, settling his palm against my nape.
“It’s true.”
He pulls me closer, until my lips hover over his. But he doesn’t make a move to kiss me yet.
He grins, and my heart stutters.
I remind myself that he’s accustomed to being used by women. Even the person he gave his heart to a long time ago didn’t take care of it properly. I want us to be different.
“Don’t be scared.” I’m not sure if he’s reassuring me or himself, but he taps his lips. “Right here, kitten.”
He pulls my mouth to his. The kiss is soft. Sweet. Exceedingly gentle. He tastes like mint and maple. I want to tuck this kiss away in my forever memory bank. That this man is lying in my bed, kissing me, giving me a piece of himself is so special.
His other hand smooths up my thigh and over my hip.
I run my fingers through his hair, letting the silken strands slip through as we kiss.
“Fuck, Talls.” Flip groans and his hand flexes, fingers digging in briefly.
One second I’m straddling his hips, and the next I’m on my back and he’s settled in the cradle of mine. I gasp and he pulls back.
“Those little sounds are pure torture.” He hooks my leg over his hip. “I missed your lips.”
“I missed yours, too.” I’m already on fire, desperate for more of his hands on me, of his body pressing me into the mattress.
He sucks my bottom lip, following with the gentle scrape of teeth.
Anticipation skitters through me as we make out, kisses deepening, his hands roaming.
One moves to cup the back of my head, the other slides under my shirt, skimming my ribs.
I follow his lead and run my hand down his back until I reach the hem of his shirt, sliding under the cotton to meet hot, smooth skin.
He groans and bites the edge of my jaw. “You feel so good.”
“Oh God.” I writhe under him, nails pressing into his back. “I ache.”
He kisses my neck. “Do you think you deserve a little relief from all the edging?”
Heat floods my center. My breath catches. “Is this a trap?”
“Does this feel like a trap?” He rolls his hips.
I arch at the feel of him, hard and thick between my thighs, rubbing against the sensitive parts of me. “N-no.”
“Does it feel good?” He frames my face in his hands.
“So good.” My body lights up in the most excruciatingly amazing way as he rocks against me. “Please, Phillip.”
“Please what?” His lips brush mine.
“Please,” I beg as I drag my nails down his back and curve my hand around the firm globe of his ass. I’m mindless with want. Desperate and feral. “I need, I need…” This relentless ache to quell.
“Tell me.” His lips ghost along my jaw, teeth scraping my neck.
“You. I need you.”
He brushes his lips over mine. “I want all these firsts with you, Tally.”
It’s like stepping backwards through time, to the days when first kisses came long before anything else.
To the make-out sessions of teen years where bodies rubbed and writhed, every sensation new, the craving growing, the appetite for more insatiable, even as the lack of experience and inhibitions made the idea of moving forward, of doing more, seem awkward. Scary even.
The way he moves over me is an echo of the way he danced, but so much better.
One hand frames my face, the other curves around my ribs, just below my breast. And somehow that innocent touch heightens everything.
His intense gaze stays fixed on mine as his thick cock rubs against me through layers of clothing.
It shouldn’t be enough, but the hot spark of need in his eyes melts my core, turning me molten.
Everything tightens, and I whimper, nails raking down his back.
“I’m going to make you come just like this.” He licks my top lip. “Fully clothed.” He sucks the delicate flesh. “Without even touching you.”
Another soft moan tumbles from my lips. Heat rushes through me, sparking in my veins, an inferno rising.
“Eyes on mine, kitten.” He keeps rolling his hips, the pressure steady and even. “Let me see what I do to you.”
I move with him, our bodies a wave of need and pleasure.
“That’s it, Tally, let go for me.” He strokes my cheek. “Show me how pretty you are when you come.”
His touch is tender, the demand undeniable. And I shatter, crying out his name, body shaking as sensation ripples through me. It’s the most perfect first, and I love that it’s here, in my bed.
“You’ll only ever make that sound for me,” he murmurs, eyes dark with satisfaction.
Because he did this. He made me come fully clothed.
“Only you,” I agree.
He slides one palm under me, curving around my ass, tipping my hips up as he grinds against me.
And I keep coming, endless waves of euphoria nearly overwhelming me, but I’m desperate for it not to end.
I want this intensely intimate connection with him, where I feel safe to show him my most unguarded and vulnerable side.
“Fuck, Talls.” His hips jerk, and his jaw tightens.
Pleasure rolls through me again, like it’s not just mine, but his too, and I cup his face in my palms, echoing his words, “Show me what I do to you.”
He groans and shudders, and I drown in his maple eyes.
Did he come? I think he just came. I’m shaken. I’m floating. I want to lie in his arms for hours and never leave.
He kisses me, unhurried and sweetly for long minutes before he finally pulls back. “Hey.”
“Hi.”
A lopsided grin tugs at his kiss-swollen lips. “I feel better. Do you?”
I laugh, the movement sending another jolt of pleasure through me, turning it into a moan.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He kisses the end of my nose. It seems to be his thing. “I’m going to use your bathroom for a minute.”
“Okay.” I don’t think I could move if I tried.
“We’ll snuggle when I come back.” He rolls gracefully off me and grabs his bag on the way to the bathroom.
Fee and I both have our own, thankfully.
He pulls the door closed behind him and the water turns on—but it’s the shower, not the sink. I bite my lip, grin widening. I made Flip Madden come in his pants. While he cleans up, I change into fresh panties and clean leggings.
A few minutes later, he opens the bathroom door.
The smile slides off my face. He’s standing in the doorway wearing black boxers, a pair of loose-fitting shorts, and nothing else. His bare chest and thick legs are gloriously on display.
“What the hell, Flip?”
“What the hell what?” He runs his hand through his damp hair.
“Why not this fifteen minutes ago?” I point to his mostly naked form. “Do you hate me?”
“Of course not.” He frowns. “I can put on more clothes if this is a problem.”
“Do not put on more clothes.”
He smirks. “You want to ogle me?”
“That’s a silly question. Of course I do. I would have happily ogled you while we were dry fucking our way to orgasms.” I pat the empty spot next to me.
“It was kind of better fully clothed, no?” He arches a brow.
I arch one back. “I can assure you, sir, that it would have been better with your shirt off.”
“We’ll have to test that theory.”
“Now?” I’m sure my face is lit up like a Christmas tree.
He laughs. “You’re an insatiable monster.”
“That you created.”
He stretches out beside me again and slides his arm under me, pulling me against him. “I’m fading.” He smells like my bodywash.
“How early did you have to get up to make your flight?” I settle my palm on his bare chest.
“Four.” His eyes slide closed.
“You must be exhausted. You need a nap.” I kiss the edge of his jaw.
“I do.” He sighs sleepily. “Cuddle with me until I pass out.”
“Of course.” I rest my head in the crook of his arm.
Three seconds later, he’s breathing evenly.
It’s such a dude superpower. I give it five minutes before I grab my Human Development in the Arts textbook and start reading. Ten minutes later, Flip rolls over, grunting as his head bangs repeatedly into my side.
I set the textbook down. “Where do you want to be, baby?”
“Just close,” he grumbles. He settles his head in my lap and moves around until his nose is pressed against my crotch. He wraps his arms around me and sighs contentedly. I snap a couple of photos. Then a couple more when Parsnip stretches out across his side.
Eventually he repositions himself, but it’s hard to hold the textbook with one hand, so I move to the floor so I can use my lap pad. Flip shoves his face in my hair and drapes an arm over me, his hand protectively cupping my right breast. Parsnip uses his back as a cat bed.
Two hours later he stretches and yawns, pushing my hair aside until his lips find my neck. “Why are you sitting on the floor?”
I pass him a water bottle. “My textbook was too heavy to hold with one hand.”
“Hmm... Fair.” He kisses my cheek. “I’m hungry.”
“Let’s see what my fridge has to offer. Then we can test the shirtless-orgasm theory.”