Chapter 16 #2
I’m not sure what she’s trying to say, but since she doesn’t seem sure either, I jump in. “We’ll finish showering and dry off, then we’ll go to my room. I’m not done with you yet.”
She lets out a surprised laugh at that, then nods her head and moves back under the water. “Can I use your shampoo?”
I hand it to her, giving her one more quick kiss, letting the spray of the water catch me a bit in the face.
We both do what we need to do, taking each other by the waist every time we want to trade places.
And then when we step out of the shower, I hurry to wrap myself in a towel before grabbing one for her and running it over her wet skin.
Is she a fully grown adult capable of drying herself off?
Yes, of course, she is. But something’s driving me to keep doing these little things for her.
Something about her sweetness and her vulnerability seems to be cracking the shield I built around my heart after everything that went down with my ex-wife.
Mostly, though, I’m just taking the excuse to feel her up some more.
Because this thing with us is only about sex, remember? It’s not supposed to be anything deeper than that.
And that’s why, once we’re dry, I take her hand and lead her across the hall into my bedroom. With a grin, I tug at the towel where she’s secured it under her armpit and let it drop to the floor before dropping my own as well.
“You should hang those up,” she tells me, a playful smile quirking up the corner of her mouth.
“Later,” I say. “Right now I think you should get on the bed for me.” I back her toward it, relishing in the sound of her delighted laughter. When the backs of her legs hit the side, she sits down. “Lie back on the pillows.”
She glances at the head of my bed, then gives me a hesitant look. “My hair’s too wet.”
I shake my head. “I’m not worried about it.”
Slowly, she scoots her way up the bed and lies down. I climb on beside her and my hands are on her body instantly, as if she’s got some kind of magnetic pull over me. I bury one hand in her wet hair, careful not to get my fingers tangled in it, and slide my other up the side of her ribcage.
We kiss until my lips feel swollen. I could be happy doing this for hours, really. Simply lying here, holding and kissing her. But I did bring her to my bedroom for more.
The first time I ate her out was rushed, and I was on my knees on the hard kitchen floor, so I wasn’t able to do my best work.
Now that I’ve got her in a comfortable bed where I can spread her out for me, I intend to take my time with her.
I want her trembling and gasping and delirious with pleasure.
I want to show her how desirable she is. Because even if a million strangers all over the world want her, that’s just celebrity worship. It’s only surface-level. I feel like she might need a reminder that she can show someone the real her, and it’s very possible they’ll want her even more for it.
I’m sure someone will even fall in love with her. Not with Riley Rowland, the famous country star. But with Riley.
Someone in the future, though.
Certainly not me.
With one final bite on her bottom lip, I tear my mouth away from hers and scoot myself farther down the bed.
She props herself up on her elbows, watching me as I wrap my hands around her inner thighs and push them apart.
I spend a few moments simply enjoying the delectable view of her naked body spread out for me like a feast. And then I dip my head down and take the first taste.
She gasps when I flatten my tongue and lick a stripe all the way up her pussy before flicking over her clit.
It’s kind of adorable how she always seems surprised by everything I do to her, as if no one’s done these things to her before.
Surely, some men have, but I don’t want to think about them.
The random, faceless men, the other rich and privileged celebrities.
I’ll let myself pretend that I’m the first person to give her pleasure like this.
It’s good for my ego.
I use my hands to rub and squeeze and massage her soft inner thighs while my mouth is busy eating her. I lick and suck on her leisurely, contented to draw this out. She reaches one hand down, placing it lightly on my head, and I moan my approval.
This must encourage her to be less reserved, because soon she’s holding my head down more forcefully with my mouth right on her clit. “Oh god, right there, yes, thank you!”
I let out a muffled laugh at the way she never fails to be polite.
I keep my attention focused on her clit even after she lets go of me, pointing my tongue and flicking against it over and over until she’s gasping and crying out my name. Then I suck the nub between my lips, varying the pressure from light to intense and back again.
Her thighs start to tremble beside my head, and I squeeze them tightly.
Moving my hands around to cup her ass, I lift her a bit off the mattress so that I have a better angle to slide my tongue inside her.
I fuck her with my tongue, in and out, in and out, savoring the taste of her.
I’m happy to completely bury my face in her pussy, forgoing the need to breathe.
“Please,” she begs. So sweet, so pretty, so polite.
I want to see her lose control.
Pulling away from her, I sit up and lean over so I can reach into my nightstand.
“What are you doing?” she asks, looking more than a little distraught since I stopped going down on her.
When I retrieve my favorite vibrator—the purple one that embarrassed the hell out of me the first time she was here—and hold it up, her eyes widen.
She doesn’t take her eyes off it as I bring it down between her legs. But when I hold it lightly against her clit and press the button to turn the vibrations on to the lowest setting, her eyes roll upward and her head falls back.
She’s no longer propped up to watch me. Now her head is on the pillow, long hair fanned out around her and starting to dry to its lighter red.
I turn the vibrations up to the next level, and soon she’s writhing on the bed, clutching the blanket for dear life.
Her legs try to close, but I use my free hand to keep her thigh pressed open.
“Is it too much?” I check.
“No!”
I chuckle and press the vibrator up to its highest setting.
“Oh fuck! Oh my god.”
“Not too much?” I ask again, because I know from a lot of personal experience how intense this toy can be.
“I’m gonna come,” she says, which is a good enough answer.
I keep the pressure right in the same spot, and a few seconds later, her back arches wildly off the bed, and she’s yelling out, “Oh, fuck me!”
I laugh and tell her, “That’s exactly what I’m doing, sweetheart.” But I doubt she even hears me over her own panting breaths.
Turning off the vibrator, I toss it to the bed and spend a moment taking her in while her eyes are closed. Her perfect naked body, the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the way her thighs are still trembling slightly.
Shit, she’s so damn hot. Eating her out is such a turn on, but getting to use a toy on her and seeing her thrash around like that was something else.
My own desire to come has really ramped up now, so I give her side a caress, then move up to the head of the bed, propping myself against the pillows beside her. I run my fingers through her hair and grab my vibrator.
As soon as I turn it on, her eyes shoot open. “Wait,” she says. Sitting up, she takes the toy from my hand and turns it back off. “Let me. I can, um...”
She puts her hand on my hip, her eyes peering earnestly into mine. But if she can’t even say the words, I’m not sure she’s ready to do anything. And that’s totally okay.
“I can take care of it, don’t worry,” I tell her.
It’s meant to reassure her that she doesn’t need to reciprocate. That I don’t expect anything from her.
But she frowns and shakes her head. “I don’t want you to be the one doing all the work.”
Reaching out, I cradle her cheek. “It’s not work.”
She shakes her head again. “I know. That’s not what I meant. But you keep giving me these amazing orgasms. Fuck, you just got me off twice in the last hour. And I feel like I’m doing nothing for you.”
I smile as I lean in to kiss her. I keep it chaste, though, because I don’t know if she wants my tongue in her mouth after where it’s been.
“My ex was sort of a pillow princess,” I explain. “I’m used to being the one giving the pleasure.”
When she makes a face, I hasten to add, “And that’s not a bad thing. Believe me. I like giving. Getting you off is hot as hell.”
She seems to consider that for a few moments, biting at her lip in a way that makes me want to replace her teeth with mine. Then, with a small but mischievous smile, she pushes at my shoulder and gets me to lie down.
Gazing down at me, she says, “Well, maybe I like giving too. Is that all right?”