Chapter 27 Tyler #3
"You stated you never stopped thinking about me," she recites my own words to me. "I wanted to make sure."
"I wouldn’t have lied to you about that, Nomes." I cradle the back of her head, pull her to me, kiss her again hungrily with tongue and heat.
I’ve waited for this for so long that it feels unreal, like a dream I’m afraid to wake from.
Her hands are everywhere, soft and fierce, mapping my body.
It's like she can't stop touching me. We’re breathing heavily, our chests heaving, our pulses going haywire. She’s beautiful in the moonlight.
Her sun-touched skin, her hair the color of midnight, her big, intense eyes, her plump lips.
I’ve been with plenty of women in the past seventeen years.
None compare to Naomi Medina. Not even close.
"Ty?" she murmurs my name, her mouth grazing my ear. "We forgot something very important last time."
"What?"
"Protection."
"I didn’t bring condoms," I confess. "If that’s a deal-breaker for you…"
She waits a moment, then shakes her head. "It’s not if you’re good."
"I’m good, I promise. I take this seriously and get tested all the time."
"Okay."
"Do I need to be concerned about you? Do you want me to do something specific?"
"I’m fine too. I’m on the pill, Ty."
I nod, feeling a bit better about doing this now. "I’m sorry I wasn’t more careful last time."
"We were both pretty drunk. And I'm partially to blame. But that’s your one and only pass."
"Got it."
She covers my mouth with hers, a sweet silencing that speaks more than I ever could.
My hands find her waist, the curve of her hips, the smooth expanse of her back where inked feathers fan out like a secret when I turn her around and kiss the line of her spine.
I wonder when she got that tattoo. It’s beautiful, very fine work, very her.
I remember when I saw it for the first time during our drunken night at the resort, I was stunned.
We roll on the bed, giggling and moaning and grinding against each other until we’re both a sweaty mess, until she’s on top of me, rubbing her pussy against my cock and making the most sensuous sounds I’ve ever heard from a woman.
She's already soaked and the mere thought that I made her like this has me on edge, has me internally screaming.
I palm her ass with both hands, pushing her against me for more friction. She shudders, and I feel her juices spread all over my erection. Fucking hell. This woman is primed and ready.
My own dick is leaking pre-cum from all the foreplay. "I need to be inside you," I rasp out.
"What’s stopping you?" she taunts.
I pivot and spin us around so that she’s on her back, staring up at me with those fiery eyes of hers. I slip my hand between her legs, tease her clit. She responds with a soft moan, bites her bottom lip, arches up into me, asking for more.
My balls tighten.
I move my finger lower, brushing it between her folds.
Her breath catches in her throat as she writhes against the bedcovers, tiling her hips upward as if wanting to fuck my finger.
Fuck.
We haven't even done anything yet, and I already want to come so badly. But I want to make it last for her, to make up for seventeen years of mistakes.
Leaning in, I kiss her chin, then her jawline, feeling her tremble and tense under my touch. She tastes like almonds and delicious vanilla, and I want to melt into her and be one for the rest of our lives.
"Ty," she moans as I continue rubbing her clit and playing with her folds. "You better get in there before I change my mind."
"Well, if you put it that way." I chuckle and gently spread her legs with my knee, then position my cock at her entrance and give myself a couple of strokes.
"Hurry," she urges.
I nudge the crown of my dick into her pussy.
My mind blanks.
Dear God. She's so wet. I didn't think it'd feel this good every single time, but apparently with her it does.
"Is that okay?" I manage a question.
"Yeah," she whispers a hushed reply. Her eyelashes flatter.
I hold still for a brief moment, unsure if it's to prepare myself or her. Then I bury myself as deep as I can with a single thrust.
She cries out. Fists the bedcovers with both hands.
My cock is in heaven. She’s tight and small and familiar, and her pussy spasms around me. And I swear I could come from this sensation alone.
It’s desperate, adult, nothing compared to our first sex at eighteen when we both didn’t know what we were doing. We’ve got years of experience and wanting behind us now.
"You're going to ruin me before the dawn breaks," I husk out.
"Get moving," she orders, rocking her hips into me as if wanting to devour my cock whole.
I do exactly as I’m told. I slide my length free until only the head of my cock is inside. Then I thrust into her again, watching her features slack and her mouth pop open, forming that perfect O. Her hand grips my shoulder.
"Harder, Ty!"
I pull out and slam into her once more.
A little cry escapes her lips.
I lose all control. Or maybe I never had any.
All my body knows is the brutal, punishing rhythm she's demanding of me.
I’m on a racetrack, chasing the ultimate high so I could give it to her.
The bed shakes and creaks, hits the wall. She laughs between her moans as she slides up the sheet from the force of my fucking.
I’m sweaty, and my mind isn’t quite right, but I have enough sense to scoot us both up the bed, gather some pillows, and prop them against the headboard before guiding her back to them.
Her hair cascades over her shoulders in a dark waterfall, and I can't resist running my fingers through those silky strands, tightening my grasp and yanking her head to the side.
"You're still as beautiful as ever," I breathe against her earlobe as I power into her with deep, rough strokes.
Naomi's cheeks flush a pretty shade of pink, but she doesn't protest my compliment. Instead, she digs her fingers into my skin so hard, I know I'll have bloody marks tomorrow. The idea of being marked by her has me dizzy with want.
The intensity building between us as I'm pounding into her is too much.
I can tell she's close by the way her body tenses, and the way her pussy throbs and clenches around my cock.
I don't want this moment to end. I drag it out for as long as I can. I fuck her until my balls are about to explode, until she's shaking and mewling unintelligible sounds.
"Ty," she pants out, her voice thick with desire and broken and dry. "I… I'm… Ahhh…"
Knowing she's on the edge pushes me over too. "I want to come with you. I want to fill you up. I want to make this pussy mine and no one else’s,” I rasp out and claim her mouth once more before fastening the pace.
"It's always been yours," she murmurs.
Her words is all I need.
I drill deep inside her one last time before we both come together in a blinding release that obliterates all thoughts but of each other.
For one perfect moment, it's just the two of us in this room, in our own world, like time has been standing still all along.
Her name is a shout in my throat, an echo of how she makes me feel. It fills the room, fills me, and I wonder if there's a word for this kind of magic.
She presses up against me, a force of nature, a miracle I don't deserve. I hold on tight, afraid to blink, afraid to lose even a second. Her lips find mine, fierce and full of fire, and it's like all the missing years are rewritten. I'm here. We're here.
Our bodies shudder as I pour into her while she clamps around me tightly, milking every last drop of my release. Everything blurs into one wild moment that never stops, and then we fall against the mattress, spent and gasping and tangled in each other.
I give her and myself a couple of minutes before pulling out.
My cock is too sensitive and overstimulated and I don't regret this one bit.
I feel the softness of her sheets and the scent of her skin, the world sharper and brighter than it was. We lie still, caught in the aftermath of something huge, something neither of us has words for yet. My hand finds hers, our fingers weaving together, an anchor, a promise.
She nuzzles my neck, her breath a soft rhythm against my chest. "Guess I didn't imagine it," she says, her voice a sleepy smile.
"Imagine what?" I ask, still not believing this is real.
"How good this was."
"It’d be horrible if after all these years, I hadn’t learned how to properly please you."
She slaps my sweaty chest. "Once a cocky asshole, always a cocky asshole."
"That’s just how I am, Nomes. Doesn’t mean I love you any less."
The confession is there, lingering in the post-sex air.
I didn’t plan on saying it to her tonight.
Yes, I’d be a fool to lie to myself, to think that I’m no longer in love with her.
Those feelings—those mind-consuming emotions of youth—they never left.
They were just buried deep, locked up and ignored so I could concentrate on my music.
I wanted it to be different. I wanted to go at her pace. Without rushing. I wanted to let her get used to the idea.
But Naomi Medina turns my brain into mush.
She shifts, the brush of her leg against mine enough to set me on fire all over. I’m empty and tired, but I already want her again.
"You don’t know when to stop, do you?" she says, the simple honesty of it nearly knocking me sideways.
I kiss her hair, the top of her head, anywhere I can reach. "I’m sorry." I pull her closer, letting the warmth of her replace the doubt that threatened to eat me alive. "I didn’t mean to overwhelm you with that…"
"Let’s just take this one step at a time," she suggests.
We don't say more, and we don't have to. The quiet says everything, wrapping us in a cocoon of now and maybe tomorrow.
Soon, she drifts into sleep, her breath a gentle tide. I lie awake, afraid to move, and watch her as if she'll disappear if I blink. She's a dream, this moment is a dream, and the fear creeps back, but softer now, less insistent.
What if I make another mistake?
What if I lose her?
What if I already have?
What if she takes it back come morning?
I push the thoughts away, too scared to let them grow. I'm here. We're here. It's more than I hoped for, more than I thought I'd get.
Maybe, just maybe, I can make it last this time.