Chapter 19
Shannon
“Holy shit!” My back arches off the mattress as Hudson’s mouth makes contact.
Gregor doesn’t say the word “pussy” let alone eat it. I haven’t had a man’s mouth on me like this since my previous life.
As if his tongue weren’t doing a good enough job on its own, I feel Hudson’s finger enter me while his tongue continues its assault on my clit.
“Oh, God.” My hips start to buck against his face. Maybe I should be embarrassed. Maybe I should feel shame. But when he lets out a sinful moan and pushes his face deeper into me, all I feel is desire pooling low in my stomach.
He pulls his face from between my legs to watch my reaction to him.
“I’m so torn right now,” he rasps. “I want to watch you fall apart, but I also want to feel it on my tongue.” The strain in his voice almost sends me over the edge by itself.
With his finger buried deep inside me, he brushes his thumb across my recently vacated clit like he’s still trying to prove how talented his fingers are.
Mission accomplished.
I see his hips moving even though he’s hanging off the mattress. I smile, realizing he’s so turned on he’s grinding his dick against the floor.
“You’d better choose fast,” I pant, right on the cusp of my release. He growls and puts his face back to my pussy and sucks on my clit this time, driving me over the edge at a hundred miles an hour.
I haven’t even floated back to Earth before I’m reaching for Hudson, but instead of letting me touch him, he laces our fingers together and kisses my knuckles.
“Do you need to take a minute and process that?” he asks.
“Do you?” I return.
“Probably, but I’m so fucking turned on right now I can’t see straight, let alone think straight.”
“Let me help you with that.”
There will be enough time for self-loathing later. Right now, I’m being driven by the need to watch the beautiful man in front of me come undone.
I unlace our fingers and roll to my side so I can push him down, effectively trading places with me on the mattress.
He goes willingly, getting comfortable and resting the back of his head on his interlocked fingers.
When he lays like that, it makes his biceps pop, and the tattoo on the inside of his left arm distracts me.
It’s clearly a birthday and a date of death.
“Having second thoughts?” he asks as I hesitate.
“No. Just admiring your art.”
“I’ll tell you about him sometime, but now’s not the time for that story.”
I told Hudson I wanted to feel seen, but I’m the one whose eyes are being opened. Hudson isn’t just a sexy guy I desperately want to use to distract me from my failing marriage. He’s a human being with a story of his own. He has people he’s loved and lost, dreams and aspirations.
And I want to know it all.
The hardest part about all of this is the lack of a crystal ball.
The realization I had on the phone with my mom is true: whether or not Hudson and I end up together, I know my marriage with Gregor is over.
I’m certain it’s true because every time I think about not waking up next to Greg, my chest feels lighter.
But the scary part is not knowing if Hudson will stick around through the shitstorm that’s about to head my way.
If I was stronger, I would tell him to keep his distance until Gregor and I were legally divorced, but in the state of North Carolina, that won’t be for at least a year and selfishly, I know I’ll need him through this ordeal.
I pepper kisses along Hudson’s chest, reveling in his strength and power. His defined muscles. The care he puts into staying in good health as well as good shape. My fingertips tremble as they slide down his torso, his shirt long forgotten on the kitchen floor.
Unable to maintain the distance from him any longer, I move back so I can lean forward and slide my tongue along the ridges of his abs.
I follow the right side down until I make it to that glorious “V” that dips below the waistband of his pants as my hands start working frantically at the buckle.
Unable to get everything off fast enough, Hudson lets out a low chuckle.
“You want some help there, baby? Since you know, I’m so good with my hands and all?”
Light hearted teasing during these intimate moments is foreign to me, and for a second, I bristle, wondering if I’m not doing it right or if he’s really making fun of me.
God, how far into my psyche have I let Greg crawl?
I must stop to think about this for a minute because suddenly, Hudson’s sitting up, calling me back to him. “Hey, Shannon, I was only kidding. There’s no rush. We can slow down.”
“I don’t want to slow down,” I confess. “I want you inside me.”
He brushes his hand across my cheek and I push into his touch as he props himself up on an elbow, all traces of his earlier joking gone.
“Look, I know this is a crazy line to draw in the sand, considering what we’ve done is still cheating, but once my cock stakes its claim, he won’t share.
I’m pushing my own limits pretty hard right now because I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than you falling apart under my touch, but as soon as I’m inside you, I’m never letting you go. And right now, you can’t stay.”
“What are you saying?” I ask, my voice laced with a mix of sadness, anger, and disbelief.
“My body is yours to explore, touch, and taste. I’ll get you off three more times before you fall asleep and there’s a damn good chance you’ll wake up in the morning with my tongue between your legs if you stay the night, but I won’t be fucking you tonight.”
A sob of frustration chokes its way out of me. I know he’s right and I’m sure once my rational mind returns, I’ll appreciate his stance on this, but right now I just want to get lost in him.
“Fine,” I agree, even though an argument is bubbling inside me.
When I finally get his belt undone and slide his pants down his legs, his cock springs free and I pounce, needing him to flood my senses. I inhale his clean masculine scent as I run my tongue along his shaft. His cock twitches and I hear his palm smack the floor to my left.
“Oh, Christ, baby, this isn’t going to take long,” he says on a groan.
I stay silent and continue working him over with my tongue, eager to make him feel as good as I do.
After getting him coated with enough spit, I pump him with my hand as I pull his balls into my mouth one at a time and smile when I feel his hand land on the back of my head. He doesn’t push me down. I think he just wants the connection, and I actually like the way his hand taunts me there.
“That’s so fucking good,” he praises above me.
I hum my approval and move back to his dick which is leaking precum onto my hand.
Greedily lapping it up, I test the waters and push my mouth down over his crown.
I’m no porn star and I’m horrifically out of practice so there won’t be any deepthroating tonight, but based on the noises he’s making and the way his hips are fighting to stay on this mattress and not buck into me, I don’t think it’ll be a problem.
“You don’t know how many times I’ve imagined this,” he pants.
I would tell him about my own fantasies, but that would require me taking my mouth off of him, and I’m not willing to do that.
So instead, I just hum my agreement as I bring my hand up to tug lightly on his sack.
I’m rewarded with another buck of his hips, telling me he likes that.
I squeeze him gently and run my hand up his stomach, unable to get enough of his skin under my hands.
He turns me on so much that before long, I’m bobbing frantically, hollowing my cheeks, trying to get him to spill down my throat. It’s only a few seconds before he’s tapping my head.
“Baby, if you don’t want to swallow, you should move.”
I bob faster. Give it to me.
Another second goes by and then the warm rush of salty cum coats my tongue. I drink every drop and when it’s all gone, I lick once more just to be sure.
I’ve barely recovered my breath when his cell phone starts blaring an odd ringtone.
“Shit, that’s the fire station. Hold that thought,” he says, reaching for his pants. Pulling the phone out of the pocket, he swipes to the right and answers on speakerphone.
“Goddorah.”
“Hey, Hud, we’ve got a one-eleven in an abandoned warehouse. Three engines are responding, but Chief wanted wave one of volunteers notified as well, just in case.”
“I can’t get there in time to be any help. Move me to wave three and repeat call if needed,” Hudson responds quickly.
“10-4.”
He tosses his phone back onto his jeans.
“If you need to go in, I can leave,” I offer, not fully understanding how his job at the fire station works.
“It’s nothing our guys can’t handle. Besides, I’m needed here.” He wraps his arms around me and I sigh in contentment as I rest my head on his chest.
Is this what it feels like to be put first?
I could get used to this.
My brain snags on the fire station though, refusing to let go and I want to learn more. “How often do you go?” I ask, genuinely curious.
He scratches his chin before answering nonchalantly, “I volunteer there one weekend a month and a few weeknights. More if I don’t have anything else going on.”
With that new piece of information, I sit up straighter and start spewing questions, suddenly concerned for his physical safety. When I pause to take a breath, Hudson chuckles and patiently answers each one.
“Our fire station is unique. Most volunteers don’t do overnights, but our captain is pretty awesome.
She recognized the bond we all formed, and she’s cool with the volunteers staying if we want.
Otherwise, when we’re on call, we have to keep our phones on us and have to stay within fifteen miles of the station at all times.
Our full-time guys are badass as hell—but if you ever meet my friend, Phoenix, please don’t tell him I said that—and they handle most of the shitshows easily without our help.
” Hudson’s chuckle reverberates low in my stomach.