Chapter 31 #2
His hands trace circles around each of my shoulders, dancing over my skin, taking their sweet time until our fingertips are intertwined.
Our joined hands lift, and he silently takes the control I’m not only allowing him to take but want him to.
Slowly he brings my arms overhead, until my back is flat against the mattress.
The moment he lets go, my body mourns the absence of his touch.
“I need you,” he practically whimpers.
“I need you, too,” I whisper as my lids close on the impact of my confession, trying to fight back tears yet again. More than you know.
“You promise?”
I nod as he spits onto his erect shaft.
Bent on both knees he moves forward, tapping on his shoulders for me to drape my legs over. As I do, he reaches for a pillow and props it beneath my hips.
“There we go,” he murmurs as his pierced tip grazes my entrance before he plunges inside me. My pussy welcomes him with an accommodating stretch, paired with a moan that’s so loud, it has him blushing as he leans forward to kiss me. “Ssh, carino. Not too loud.”
I don’t know why, but an apology falls from my lips. A habit that I’m well aware I’m guilty of but can’t seem to shake, no matter how hard I try.
“For what? You have nothing to be sorry for. I want to make you feel good.”
His declaration of care, of wanting me to be something I’ve never felt outside of myself, has me wanting him more than ever.
Gentle thrusts rev up in speed, though he doesn’t sacrifice the angle or precision he’s driving his hips, remaining deep within me.
“Tighter,” he commands in a growly whisper.
I’m not sure what he’s referring to at first, but when he taps at my ankles wrapped loosely around his neck, I catch on, tightening their hold.
“Fuck, that’s it, carino.”
“Kiss me,” I pant, though it sounds like I’m begging him.
Legs still wrapped around his neck, he lowers to kiss me, and as our lips mesh into a heated kiss, I squeeze my legs tighter like he wanted, making him moan and whimper against my lips.
The satisfaction he’s gaining from me squeezing my legs around him has my center fluttering, nearing what I’m sure will be the first of many releases.
Sure enough, as soon as I grip my walls around his dick, crying in ecstasy as quietly as I can —though it feels next to impossible with how good he makes my entire body feel— he switches positions.
Flipping me over onto all fours on the bed, fucking me from behind, while his hand rests on my sensitive clit, circling it tenderly so I can work up to another orgasm.
Lost in the sea of pleasure he brings me, I didn’t realize he has us positioned at the end of the bed overlooking the dresser with a mirror attached.
Though once I take notice of it, it’s impossible to look away, mesmerized by how our bodies look and feel when working in perfect harmony together.
We don’t stop staring at each other.
And if anything, the eye contact alone, watching ourselves fuck as if it were a movie playing, only adds to the pleasure we’re both feeling.
“You’re so beautiful,” he praises, sounding like he’s close to coming.
“Show me how beautiful you think I am” I coo. I circle my hips, working with his thrusts.
“Fuck.” He sucks in a breath. “You can’t do that.”
I roll my hips again, enough that my ass bounces against him as I do. “Do what?”
“That.” He fingers knead themselves on my hips. “You’re going to make me come.”
My back arches higher. “Isn’t that the point?”
He grunts low and the vibration travels through me. “Yes. But I want to show you how beautiful you are all night long.”
“Come for me,” I whisper, though it sounds like what it really is, me begging him to.
His head shakes. “Come with me.”
Still focused on drawing another orgasm out of me, his hand remains pressed with perfect firmness at my clit, circling the nerves. We come together and as soon as he slips out of me, he wastes not even a second to bring me into his arms so we can cuddle on the bed.
“Feel better?” I ask flirtatiously, burrowing myself into his barreled chest.
“Yes, of course. But I’ll feel better after I get something out of the way tomorrow..”
The cryptic edge in his tone is cause for alarm. I go to sit up, but he stops me, pressing a kiss to the crown of my head.
“I meant what I said. You deserve to be protected. And I’m going to do just that and get you what you’ve been waiting on.”
Nerves weigh heavy in my stomach, twisting it, forcing me to say what I’ve said for the better part of my life. “I don’t need to be protected. I’m more than capable.” I say it as a fact, though hearing it, I don’t sound convincing. It sounds, and feels, like a lie.
“I know you are. It’s why I told you what I want, but I want —no, I need— your permission to do what I have to do tomorrow. I need you to say out loud that you’ll let me stand up for you.”
Thoughts swarm my head. The emphasis on tomorrow is throwing me off.
Tomorrow is Harper and Chloe’s wedding. Is he about to cause a scene?
No. He wouldn’t. Would he? Confused, I say the first thing that comes to mind.
“Why?” A loaded question. One that could address any of the questions I have for him.
Why do you want to protect me?
What happened that you aren’t saying that warrants your protection?
Why are you willing to do so much for someone who just appeared at random in your life?
But then I remember something my grandmother told me in passing when I was young, that stood with me ever since.
“Nothing in life is random. Especially not when it involves matters of the heart. Love will find you when you least expect it, and sometimes it will save you, even if you didn’t realize you need saving. ”
“Because I want to,” he says unapologetically, unknowingly confirming what my grandma said to me.
There’s so much I could ask him. Even more that I should ask.
But I don’t want to.
All I want is this.
To feel safe, appreciated, cared for, not just by anyone but by him.
“Is that okay with you?”
“Yes,” I breathe as I curl up on him, resting my head on his shoulder. “I trust you.”
Like I’ve never trusted anyone else before.