37. Tell Me You Don’t Want This
TELL ME YOU DON’T WANT THIS
ANNELISA
When Will drives me home, the air is thick in the cab of the ute - fuelled by the sexual tension rolling off us both in waves. He holds my hand on his thigh, running his thumb back and forth across the back of it while he squeezes tightly.
Other than our two encounters on the camping trip, it’s been a long time since I’ve felt this level of desire. I’d begun to wonder if my hormones had stopped working altogether, but with the throbbing sensation between my legs right now, I know they are alive and well.
Will pulls up in front of my building and shuts off the engine before turning to run his eyes over me. The heat behind his gaze is almost enough to make me spontaneously combust, and I swallow hard.
“Can I walk you to your door?”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. He follows me up the stairs, waiting a few steps behind while I unlock the metal gate and step onto the balcony, pausing when he stays where he is.
“You okay?” I ask .
“I should really go,” he replies, his hand pressed against the door frame.
“Okay,” I reply, staying perfectly still.
His grip on the door frame tightens while his hungry gaze runs over me, and I can hear my heart pounding in my ears. In all our years together, I don’t recall him ever looking at me like this. Like he could devour me whole.
As a romance author, I have written countless scenes where the love interest looks at the heroine like this, but experiencing it in person is a completely different feeling.
I swallow hard while I wait to see if he’s going to leave after all.
With what seems to be every bit of his self-restraint, he releases the door frame, giving it a light tap with his fist before stepping forward. He presses a quick kiss to my forehead before turning away.
“I’ll call you later,” he says, glancing back at me over his shoulder while he walks back through the gate.
“Okay.” I nod, fighting against the wave of disappointment that is crashing down around me when he pulls the gate shut behind him.
I knew he was set on keeping sex off the table, but that was before tonight and how good it was between us. I’d been so sure he was going to come in and rip my clothes off. But sadly, it appears that he’s still the perfect gentleman.
I turn and unlock the front door, figuring it’s time to get the vibrator out to deal with the pent-up sexual frustration now coursing through my veins, when the sound of the gate opening causes me to turn.
“Fuck it,” Will says, moving swiftly towards me.
He grips the back of my neck and crushes his lips to mine, backing me up against the door.
It takes me a moment to catch up, but once I do, I kiss him back with just as much force, wrapping my arms around his neck and clinging to him as he plunders my mouth with his.
Seconds later, he lifts me off my feet, and I gasp before wrapping my legs around his waist while he opens the door behind me.
“Whose stupid idea was it to take sex off the table?” he says, kissing down my neck while I moan.
“I believe that was yours,” I mumble.
“Worst. Idea. Ever.” He punctuates each word with a kiss, kicking the door shut behind him before walking us to the couch.
He puts me down on the couch before dropping to his knees between my legs and gripping my face between his hands.
“Tell me now if you don’t want this,” he demands, looking me in the eye.
“I want this. I want you,” I reply with equal determination.
He nods. “Good.” He kisses me hard, and my insides turn to liquid.
I thought we’d kissed in every way imaginable over the years together, but I can’t recall a single moment when there was this much desperation - this much desire - behind any of them.
He kisses me like a man starved, and I’m sure he must think the same for me, because the urgency I’m kissing him back with is overwhelming.
He pulls me forward so that I’m sitting on the edge of the couch before pushing my jacket off my shoulders.
I tug my arms out and flick it off over the back of the couch, refusing to take my lips from his.
He slides the straps of my dress down until my lace bra is fully exposed, brushing his thumbs over both my nipples.
My breasts have always been extremely sensitive, and the fact that he remembers after all this time causes a tightening sensation in my chest. He trails hot, desperate kisses down my neck before running his tongue over my right nipple, sucking through the lace of my bra.
I moan, arching my back to push my breast further into his mouth, and he chuckles.
“So eager,” he mumbles.
I don’t respond while I reach behind my back to undo my bra.
He pulls it away before continuing to lavish each breast with attention until my breath comes in short pants.
I almost don’t notice when he slides one hand up my thigh, pushing my dress up until my underwear is on full display.
Reaching between my legs, he begins to rub my clit through the lace fabric, and I cry out.
I’m at risk of becoming overstimulated, but he continues to apply pressure while I whimper.
“Oh God… Will,” I moan his name.
“Are you going to come for me, baby?” he mumbles against my breast.
“Mhm.” I nod quickly, licking my lips.
I can’t form any words or even a thought as the pleasure begins shooting through me, and I throw my head back while he holds me in place, continuing the attention on my breasts and clit.
“I’d forgotten how sexy that is,” he says, pulling back to watch as I come back down to earth.
“That was amazing,” I whisper.
“I’m just getting started,” he says, rising to his feet before lifting me in his arms so that I can wrap my legs around him again. “Bedroom?”
“Last door at the end of the hall,” I murmur against his lips, and he nods as he walks us down there.
Once we’re in the bedroom, he lowers me onto the bed, urging me to lie back while he slides my underwear down my legs.
Dropping to his knees once again, he lowers his mouth to my clit, and I gasp.
I hadn’t expected him to go down on me after already taking me over the edge, but the second he runs his tongue over me, I can feel another orgasm growing.
No one else has ever been able to come close to making me feel the way this man does, and after that one lacklustre experience six years ago, I’d honestly thought it would never be this good again. But when the second orgasm crashes down around me moments later, I have to fight back tears.
“You okay?” he asks, straightening up to look at my face.
“Yep, I’m good,” I reply, wiping the tear that escaped away quickly.
“What’s wrong?” He slides his hands around both my thighs while he rests his chin on my abdomen to look up at me.
I reach down to run my hand through his hair. “Nothing. Just forgot how good this was.”
He studies my face for a moment before nodding. “Me too.”