Chapter 13 - Mona #2
He usually shifts between lying on his back and his side at night, but for some reason he must have rolled all the way over onto his stomach—and I happened to be sleeping right where he rolled.
His weight is resting on me, and his face is tucked against the curve of my neck.
One arm is slung all the way out, holding on to my edge of the bed.
He’s sound asleep. His breathing is slow and even. His body is incredibly warm.
I’m torn between cozy delight and trapped anxiety. I like that he’s unconsciously sleeping on top of me, but I also would like to be able to move at some point in the near future.
I attempt a gentle push to see what happens.
What happens is he grunts bad-temperedly and snuggles into me more insistently.
Giggling now, I try again. If I use a lot of force, I could definitely get him off me, but I’m still not entirely convinced by my need to be free.
He huffs and refuses to budge. He mutters this time, too muffled to understand more than a few words. “Stop… my Mona… sleep… so good.”
Shit, my poor battered heart. How will it ever survive this assault?
“Douglas,” I say, rather stretched because I’m getting desperate. I give him another little push. “Please.”
“What’s wrong?” He wakes up abruptly, lifting his upper body so he can peer at me urgently.
“Nothing. I’m sorry. I needed to get up and you were on top of me.”
“Ah.” He blinks a few times. Processes my words and assesses our position. “Oh, sorry.” He pushes himself up and off me, rolling over to his side. “Not sure how that happened.”
“It was fine. I didn’t know until just a minute ago, but I need to go to the bathroom, and you wouldn’t wake up.”
“Sorry about that. I don’t normally sleep so deeply.”
“Maybe it was the pill.”
“Ah yes, that’s probably so.” He looks relieved, as if he needed a reason for his uncharacteristic lack of control, even in his sleep.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed, glancing back at him. “How’s your head?”
“Much better. The migraine is totally gone.”
“Thank God.” I sigh and get up. I do need to pee, and since I used it as an excuse with him, now’s the time.
After going to the bathroom, I wash my hands and face and brush my teeth with the extra toothbrush he gave me to put at his sink so I don’t have to go all the way down the hall first thing every morning.
When I return to the bedroom, I see it’s not even five in the morning yet. “It’s still so early,” I say, oddly delighted by this recognition.
“It is.” He’s smiling as he disappears into the bathroom.
I’m even more delighted when he gets back into bed with me on his return.
“You’re not going to run?”
“Not this early.” He looks almost offended. “That would be ridiculous.”
I scoot closer to him. “Good.”
“You look irresistibly soft this morning, my dear heart,” he murmurs, pulling me over on top of him so my body is stretched out over his.
If swooning were still something that people did, I would definitely be doing it right now. I can’t stop smiling as I adjust my position so I can look down at his face. “So do you.”
“I do?”
“Why are you surprised?”
“Because you are uniquely desirable, and I am not.”
“Maybe I think you are.”
“Do you?”
“Yes, I do.” I nuzzle the crook of his neck as I say, “And before you start assuming wrong things, I do think your brain is as sexy as hell. I mean seriously, knock-my-socks-off sexy. But it’s not just your brain that gets me going.” I pepper little kisses along his jaw. “I’m into your body too.”
“I’m very glad to hear that.”
“You already knew that, didn’t you?”
“I’ve been persuaded more than once in these past few days, but something about it still surprises me.”
“It shouldn’t. Whenever we go out in public, I sometimes catch other women checking you out. They don’t know your bank account. They don’t know your brilliance. But they’re jealous of me anyway because you’re superhot.”
“Really?”
He sounds so surprised I fall into giggles.
“Yes. Really.”
He’s smiling warmly, and his eyes are very tender. “I’ve never been called superhot before, but I’ll take it.”
He draws my head down so he can kiss me.
It doesn’t take long for the kiss to turn into a lot more.
While our mouths are moving together, our bodies are too.
He slowly caresses me, spending a lot of time on my hair and the curves of my butt and thighs.
I’m still wearing the little nightgown I put on last night, but I might as well be naked.
He easily moves the fabric out of the way so he can touch my bare skin.
I’m rubbing against his groin as our tongues slide together. He’s growing aroused, and I love the feel of his erection slowly hardening against my middle, tangible proof of how much this amazing man wants me.
Me.
“Do you need anything different, sweetheart?” He murmurs the question against my mouth without withdrawing from the kiss.
“No. This is definitely working. This is perfect. I love how you feel this morning.”
“How do I feel?” His hands curve around the back of my thighs, his fingertips dipping into the cleft at my groin.
“You feel all warm and slow and relaxed. And like you can’t stop touching me.”
“I can’t stop. Every part of you is so soft and warm—your body and your heart.” He’s still kind of kissing me, and I never want him to stop. “I love how you squirm when you’re aroused.”
“I don’t squirm!”
He chuckles, the vibrations shaking his body deliciously. “Okay. You don’t squirm.”
“That’s a terrible word to use!”
“My apologies. If you have a better one, I’ll immediately adopt it.”
I’ve lifted my head so I can frown down at him. With a sniff, I say, “Well, I can’t think of one right this minute.”
“I see.”
“Don’t look so smug and amused. You’re supposed to be the brainy one. Surely your expansive vocabulary can source a better word than squirm.”
“Hmm.” He’s still caressing me as we speak, focused primarily on my bottom. It’s turning me on despite the distraction of the conversation. “Wriggle?”
“No! That’s bad too. Very undignified.”
“And you’re concerned about dignity in this particular moment?”
“Well, no. Not really. But still. Squirm is just bad. Next thing, you’ll be calling me moist.”
He laughs for real, his hands pulling my thighs farther apart as he does. Then he slides one hand against me intimately. “I could perhaps use the word moist appropriately right now.”
He slides one finger all the way inside me. I’m wet.
I gasp in pleasure and barely hold on to my glare. “Don’t you dare.”
“Very well. Nothing coarse or undignified no matter how appropriate. You, my dearest, deserve only poetry.”
I nod. “Quite right.”
“You know E. E. Cummings?”
“I’ve read a few of his poems. What are you thinking of?”
His mouth is twitching, so I should have suspected it, but I don’t. He says in his beautifully resonating poetry-reading voice, “When serpents bargain for the right to squirm.”
With an indignant exclamation, I rear up and swat at him playfully. He easily catches my hands and pulls me down into a hug, laughing uninhibitedly.
I’m laughing too. I’m hugging him back.
After a minute, I sniff against his chest. “Well, I was thinking we might have some sexy time, but you had to go and ruin it.”
“Did I ruin it for real?” His erection is still hard, folded between our bodies. His hands have settled on my ass again.
“Maybe not. But you’ll have to exert some real effort after the squirm fiasco.”
“Okay. I can do better with poetry. Let me think.”
“Fine. You think. I’ll lie here on top of you and wait.”
He chuckles, sliding one hand down the length of my messy hair. “What about Marlowe? Come live with me and be my love, / And we will all the pleasures prove, / That Valleys, groves, hills, and fields, / Woods, or steepy mountain yields.”
I swallow hard. “That’s not too bad. Keep going.”
The Marlowe poem lasts long enough for him to remove my nightgown. And John Donne gets me over on my back with him kissing all over my body between words.
Then, propped up above me in his pajamas, his hair messy and eyes hot, as handsome and seductive as any man I’ve ever known, Douglas begins, “In Xanadu did Kubla Khan / A stately pleasure-dome decree…”
I gulp.
He’s smiling as he once more kisses his way down my body, reciting the poem line by line. His voice is as arousing as his touch, as his mouth, and I honestly would never have believed I could respond this way to the combination of words, voice, kiss, and caress.
He’s gone all the way down my body and is nuzzling between my thighs when he gets to “Five miles meandering with a mazy motion / Through wood and dale the sacred river ran, / Then reached the caverns measureless to man…”
He uses his fingers to hold me open and licks my clit.
My hips buck up right off the bed. My entire body pulses. He slides two fingers inside me and keeps teasing my clit with his lips and mouth until I come with a loud, helpless sob.
He brings me to one more climax before he raises his head, still pumping his fingers inside me as he continues the poem.
I’m rocking up to the motion of his hand pumping between my legs, urged on by the seductive cadence of those words in his voice.
I come again before he reaches the end, and he finally withdraws his fingers.
He’s smiling as he gazes down on me and reaches the end of the poem. “And close your eyes with holy dread / For he on honey-dew hath fed…” He licks his fingers clean. “And drunk the milk of Paradise.”
He’s so clearly pleased with himself that I’m spilling over in laughter—half snorts and half giggles—as I drag him up my body so I can kiss him. He’s pretty far gone at this point, so the kiss soon turns to him sliding inside me and finding his satisfaction in me.
I don’t come again, but everything feels better than I ever knew sex could be. Inside and out. Body and soul. All of me and all of him.
It’s all of us, both of us, when he comes with a rough exclamation of need and pleasure and then collapses on top of me. We lie together, our limbs tangled, our hearts pounding.
It’s a long time before either of us can speak.
When he does, it’s with his typical verbal assurance. “So what do you think? Did I make up for the squirm fiasco?”
“Uh, yes. I have to admit that you did. I never would have believed it, but I have just been wooed by poetry.”
He smiles down at me.
“Only with you,” I add.
His expression changes just slightly as he murmurs, “Only with me.”