Chapter 17
COOKE
My heart is hammering in my chest and I don't care. All that matters right now is Gretchen. The fact that she's trusting me like this, giving me the chance to do what I've come to recognize I've wanted all along. Love her. Worship her. Give her all of me.
I make sure the door is shut tight behind us and then turn the lock. Her safety is most important in this moment. At least that's what I think until I turn to face her again and see her bathed in the warm light radiating from the tree we set up together.
Utterly gorgeous.
Her coat is drapes over the edge of the couch, and I set mine there as well.
Gretchen smiles at me, reaches out and then I pull her into my arms. No space between us this time.
I want her against me, to feel how her softness molds to my angles.
She doesn't hold back either, though. Her hands twine around my neck, her fingers running through the short strands of my hair, and I love the feel of her nails skating over the sensitive skin there.
She eradicates every barrier I didn't even realize I had. Her kindness and honesty blew through the protections I built up and I'm so glad. It led us here. To this moment.
My fingers brush over the bare skin of her lower back, just above the waistband of her skirt, and she arches into the touch.
A whimper escapes her, and I swallow down the sound.
I want to pull all of those little signals from her, until I've learned all the things she loves. So I can do them over and over.
I follow the line of her spine, stopping just below the strap of her bra, following it around to the side and then back down. She shivers under my touch and it's heaven.
“Hold onto me, sweetheart.” I don't even recognize my voice. It's choked with emotion and I know she hears it too. “I want to take you to the bedroom. You okay with that?”
She nods, and I stop her.
I stare into her eyes. “Words. I want to hear you say it.”
“I want you to carry me to bed, Cooke. Now.” There's no plea or request in that statement. Simple, direct. Clear. She wants me as much as I want her.
That knowledge satisfies me on a deep level, and I don't hesitate.
Just scoop her up in my arms and carry her down the hallway.
Her room is small, and the only light is the moon coming through the gaps in the shades on the windows.
It gilds the space with a magical glow. And I'm desperate to see her skin touched by it.
I lay her down carefully, then guide her skirt down over her hips. We've got all night to spend like this, but the need driving me doesn't want to wait. It wants all of her.
Undressing her is an act of discovery. I kiss the indent of her waist, then the skin over her hipbones.
Her stomach rises and falls beneath my palm as she trembles as I learn her.
Her sweater is quickly on the floor, followed by her bra, and I've got her beautiful breasts in my hands.
She arches up as I roll the nipples between my fingers, loving the way they pebble beneath my touch.
And when I take each one into my mouth, she gives a low moan that shoots straight to my groin.
“I'm going to taste every inch of you, love. Every bit. I want to know what you like. So don't hold back from me. Give it all to me.”
I kiss my way down her body, lingering in the different spots, gauging how her breaths change, the way she responds to each change in my touch. When I reach her core though, I'm done experimenting. I need the taste of her on my tongue, and there's no more waiting.
I run my tongue over her center, and she cries out, her hands landing in my hair.
She's divine, so delicious and soft, warm and wet, and I lave her sensitive flesh over and over.
I tease her clit, sucking at it, and when I finally thrust a finger inside her entrance, she cries out my name.
Her hips come off the bed and I smile against her.
“That's only the beginning. I'm nowhere close to done with this feast.”
I torture her in the best way, licking her through the orgasm as it crests, feeling her clench around my finger.
Giving her a moment to catch a breath, I start again, this time working two fingers inside her, stretching her carefully until she's writhing beneath me, my fingers finding that sensitive patch just inside and stroking over it.
She comes again, moisture flooding onto my tongue, and it's better than I ever dreamed.
How have I lived all this time without this woman?