Chapter 36 #2
Now? I was ready to live a life full of love and laughter and happiness.
I fucking earned it. I deserved it.
“What’s up, Sweetness?” He stepped into me, running his big hands up and down my arms, chasing away the lingering chill from standing with the door open for a few minutes too long.
“Will you stay with me?”
He swallowed, throat bobbing. “I—I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“Please? I promise to behave.” I batted my eyelashes up at him.
He pulled me into his chest on a laugh. “It’s not you I’m worried about.”
My hands explored the muscled contours of his back.
“Are you more muscle-y than when you left?”
“Muscle-y? That a medical term, Doc?”
“Hush.”
He chuckled. “I didn’t have a ton to do in rehab other than go to therapy, go to the gym, or play Go Fish.”
I loved the feel of him under my hands. He wasn’t bulky, like his twin; he was fit, trim, cut where it counted. I wanted to explore the new ridges and creases on his body without the hindrance of clothing.
My hands moved to the hem of his dark henley and slipped beneath, fingertips running up his spine. Chase’s sharp inhale told me that maybe I was the one who would misbehave. A subtle shift of his hips had his erection pressed firmly against my bulging belly.
“Should I stop?”
“God, no,” he groaned into the crown of my head. “That was my fourth leisure activity at Harbor Hall—thinking about your hands on me, your mouth. Your perfect fucking pussy. I fucked my hand daily, missing you.”
A whimper escaped me, my perfect fucking pussy throbbing.
“You feeling needy, Sweetness? You need to come?”
“Yesss,” I hissed into his chest, fingernails digging into the smooth skin of his back.
“I’ll take care of you.” He kissed my hair. “Always.”
When he pulled back, he gripped my hand in his and led me to my bedroom.
The bedside lamp cast the room in a soft yellow glow.
My bright-white quilt and high-thread-count sheets were rumpled after I’d chosen to ignore the chore of making it this morning with Rhett here.
But at least the mattress was now on its frame, thanks to Chase.
“On the bed, baby.” His voice was low and gravelly, strained with all the pent-up desire he wouldn’t allow himself to unleash.
Yet.
Thinking about the moment he’d finally allow himself that moment of pleasure had me soaking my panties further.
I sat on the edge of the bed, slowly shimmying my front-heavy body back until I was in the center, legs spread wide and hands planted behind me.
I couldn’t see past my stomach, so when he reached a hand out, I could only feel as he slid a single finger up the seam at the crotch of my sage-green leggings.
“You got a little wet spot here, Sweetness. You dripping for me?”
I nodded quickly, not trusting myself to speak. I was so turned on from just that small touch, my orgasm felt within grasping distance already.
Chase tsked. “And it’s all going to waste soaking your panties. I think I need a taste.”
He reached out with both hands, sliding them up and under my T-shirt and curling his fingers into the waistband of my maternity leggings. In one swift movement, he tugged them down, along with my panties. I lifted to help him get them past my ass, and he carefully pulled them past my feet.
“Fuck, you’re perfect. Swollen and pink and so fucking wet I can see it dripping from your cunt.”
Oh god, I love it when he uses that word. It was so harsh and cruel—the exact opposite of him.
Chase gripped me by the hips and yanked, pulling me closer to the edge of the bed. I dropped from my propped-up position on my hands, head hitting the mattress as I slid down. He kneeled on the floor and set my feet on the bed frame, positioning me just the way he wanted me.
“I could stare at you all day.”
“Stop staring and start—”
I gasped as he dove headfirst into my pussy, spearing me with his tongue and moaning as he got his first taste in months. He licked and sucked, devouring every inch of me like a man starved.
In a way, I guess he had been.
He alternated between slow licks from bottom to top with the flat of his tongue where he paused, sucking my swollen clit in little pulses that had me writhing.
“Oh, god, Chase. I’m so close. I need—”
He didn’t need me to tell him. He already knew everything I needed. He’d spent months learning my body, and he hadn’t forgotten a thing while we’d been apart.
He slipped two fingers inside me easily, pumped them in and out, curled them just the right way while never letting up on the delicious suction on my clit.
His other hand slid up the outside of my thigh, past my hip, under my shirt, and gently caressed my pregnant belly.
The intimate touch combined with the erotic dedication he was showing my pussy had every part of my body clenching.
A scream ripped from my throat as warm wetness gushed between my legs and such immense pleasure rocketed through me, I drifted into outer space.
I heard a muttered, “Oh fuck yes,” as I moaned, chanted his name, and swore through what had to have been the longest, most intense orgasm of my life.
When I finally floated back down to planet Earth, Chase was lying on his side next to me, a smile stretching across his face and a soothing hand rubbing my stomach.
I blinked up at him.
“I made you squirt.” His grin was so triumphant and boyish that a laugh bubbled up and out of me. “How do you feel?”
“Good?”
He cocked a brow at my questioning tone.
“Good. Tired.”
Chase moved to stand, and I whined. “Where are you going?”
Who is this needy woman and where the hell is Elena Ventura?
“To get you some water. I’ll be right back.” He pressed a kissed to my forehead, and I closed my eyes.
In the few minutes he was gone, I must have fallen asleep, because when I opened my eyes again, he was shifting me up the bed, gently laying me down on the pillows and gathering the rumpled blankets to cover me.
“Are you staying?” I asked on a yawn.
His brow furrowed, and he looked so torn.
“It’s fine. You don’t have—”
“I want to,” he said. “Drink.” He handed me a glass of water, and I sat up, gulping the entire glass down as I watched him peel the henley off his back then unzip and shuck his jeans. He stood before me, hard cock straining against his gingerbread-print boxer briefs.
My eyes bulged. “Are those gingerbread cookies fucking?”
He waggled his eyebrows while I giggled as he slipped under the covers next to me.
Last year, I was bleeding and alone. This year, I was safe. Warm. Loved. And never sleeping alone again.