Chapter 6 Monk
SIX
Monk
I spent half of last night’s session kicking myself for not going home with Verity, and the other half fantasizing that I had. Needless to say, the producer didn’t get my best or my full attention. Fortunately, I’m good enough that he didn’t realize that.
Now that I’m here at Verity’s door and we’ve had a day to think, nothing’s changed for me. I want to see where this could go. Our connection feels too rare for me to ignore. If I don’t give it the space it deserves, I might regret it forever.
I’ve barely knocked once when her door swings open.
“Hey,” she says, wearing a wide smile and a flowy skirt that shows off her beautiful brown legs.
“Hey, yourself.” I reach for her, stepping into the room and kicking the door closed. “Been thinking about this all day.”
“This?” She tips her head back far enough to catch my eyes, a smile lighting her face. “You mean snatching me up as soon as you see me?”
“Kissing you.”
I lower my head and she tips on her toes, meeting me halfway. She tastes even better than I remember. She’s all soft, scented curves, and her mouth is eager and open.
“We said we’d talk,” I mumble into the kiss.
“Hmmm,” she agrees, dotting kisses along my jawline. “We should, but just a little of this first, ’kay?”
Laughing, I walk us toward her bed pushed against the wall. Not having lived in a dorm since freshman year, I forgot how little space there is.
“Roommate?” I leave a trail of kisses down her neck.
“She never showed,” she says, taking my chin to pull my mouth close enough to kiss. “So I have my own room.”
“No one’s coming to interrupt?”
I sit on the bed and she crawls over my lap, her legs on either side of mine.
“You planning on doing things to me that should not be interrupted?” she teases, holding my face between her hands and leaning down for a devouring kiss. Her passion matches mine, rises to meet me. My hands trace the smooth length of her bare legs, under her skirt to cup her ass.
“You feel so good,” she breathes into our kiss and rocks her hips over me.
Scraps of cotton and lace are the only barriers keeping me from the best pussy I’ve ever had…
that I haven’t even actually had yet. She flicks her eyes up to meet mine, reaches between us and squeezes me with a sure hand.
My dick is like concrete, and as much as I want this to happen now, I force myself to slow down—to stop.
I nudge her back until she’s sitting on my legs, her skirt splayed around us and the sound of our ragged breaths filling the room.
“We need to talk before…” I shake my head, struggling to clear the fog of lust rendering coherent thought nearly impossible. “We need to talk.”
“Okay.” She shifts from my lap to sit beside me, sending me a sidelong glance. “I’m sorry. I got carried away. I just…”
“You don’t have to be sorry.” I blow out a breath. “It’s just… I’m already in pretty deep without sex. Once we cross that line, we might not have clear heads for this conversation.”
“So you think it’s gonna be that good, huh?” she asks, scrunching her nose adorably.
I don’t even try for humor, but take her hand and link our fingers. “I think that’s how good we could be together. Period.”
Her smile melts and something akin to fear flickers in her eyes, dents her brows.
“What is it?” I cup her face and match her frown.
“It’s just…” She bites her thumbnail, something warring in her expression before she speaks. “I’ve never felt anything like this pull between us. And as much as I want it, it kind of scares me.”
I brush my thumb over the soft fullness of her bottom lip. “I scare you?”
“I’m not scared of you…” She pauses, her eyes sliding away. “My parents had a very volatile relationship.”
I stiffen and frown. “Like abusive?”
“No, not abusive. My dad loved my mom more than anything in the world. And that’s how she loved him, but it got to be… too much. It ended badly.”
“You said they both died in a fire.”
“It ended badly,” she repeats, blinking rapidly. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Okay.” I rub her back and loosely grip her nape. “You don’t have to.”
After a few seconds, her shoulders drop a little and she relaxes beside me.
“Seeing how my parents were together has made me hesitant about going deep with anybody,” she says. “I’ve preferred casual stuff or something like what I had with Petra, which was great, but not… intense. This, with you, feels intense already.”
She rests her back against the wall beside me and lets her head fall to my shoulder. “My mom used to have one of those old-school globes that you could spin. You know the ones?”
“Yeah. My grandfather had one in his office, too.”
“Mama would talk about all the places we would go one day.” Verity releases some mix of a giggle and a sigh.
“She would let it spin so fast, and then she’d stop with her finger and wherever it landed, we’d put it on our list. That’s the way I’d describe the night I met you.
Like that globe just spinning and spinning, and as soon as I saw you, heard you playing onstage, the world stopped. And there you were.”
“And there you were.” I tip my head to catch her eyes. “I haven’t felt this way before either. We can go as slow as you want. What would make you feel safe? We don’t have to have sex. We can—”
“No, I want to,” she cuts in, burying her face in my shoulder when I laugh at the swiftness of her response. “I promise I’m not always this horny.”
“I don’t mind if you are, as long as it’s only directed at me.”
Her smile fades and she looks at me, her eyes frank and honest.
“About that,” she says. “I’d always assumed being with more than one person violated something, but it didn’t violate what Petra and I had because we agreed to it. Once I set aside what I thought all relationships had to be, and accepted what ours was, that it was open, I was fine.”
“I can respect what you had with her,” I say, laying my words out carefully, “but I want to be clear I’m not interested in that arrangement.”
“I know that. It was a matter of what Petra and I expected from each other—being honest, communicating. You expect monogamy. I have no trouble giving you that. I want that with you and can promise you’ll be the only one.”
“That’s really good to hear.” Relieved, I press our linked hands over my heart. “Fidelity is a hard line for me. After how my parents’ marriage ended, how my dad treated my mom, I’m not doing that to anyone and I won’t settle for it.”
“I understand,” she affirms, not looking away, making sure I know she means it, and that she knows what it means. “It’s just you, just us.”
I pull her back onto my lap and sink my fingers into the soft curls falling to her shoulders.
We kiss, and it’s ferocious, not gentle or tender.
It’s a kiss I want to crawl into. We lick and suck and bite until my lips are numb and faint bruises bloom along her collarbone, at the bend of her shoulder like a bouquet.
“I wanna see you,” I say, tugging her shirt up to reveal a black lacy bra.
She sits back and pulls the T-shirt over her head. Next, eyes never leaving mine, she reaches back and unclasps the bra, setting her breasts free. They bounce a little, full and tipped with dusky nipples.
“God, Vee.”
My voice sounds reverent, like she is a call to worship I’m answering, and that’s how it feels as I lay her down on the narrow bed and peel off her skirt and underwear.
I bury my nose in her neck and dust kisses over her breasts.
Making my way down her stomach, I lick into her belly button and mouth the soft skin of her hip, her thigh, kissing behind her knee.
I stroke between her legs, where she is so wet and so soft.
“Monk,” she gasps, letting her legs fall open and rolling into my touch.
Pushing two fingers inside, I continue stroking with my thumb and bend to take her breast between my lips.
“Oh, God. I’m gonna…” Her expression twists and she turns her face into the pillow and fists the sheets.
My existence is whittled down to her pleasure; to the feel of her skin, the way her little sighs and moans tell me she loves this, the scent of her arousal—it all goes to my head.
When she comes, her eyes roll back and her neck arches and her heels dig into the mattress.
As soon as she goes limp, her chest rising and falling with labored breaths, I pull her legs over my shoulders and dip my head to taste her.
“God, Monk,” she groans. “I just… I can’t again.”
The hell she can’t. I spread her open, losing myself between her legs until she’s all I see and taste and smell. She’s my tunnel, and there’s nothing else but this moment and the way she comes apart for me. I rest my forehead against her stomach and slow my breathing.
“That was the best orgasm of my life.” She laughs and reaches down to trace my eyebrows, my cheekbone. “Correction. The two best orgasms of my life. Don’t stop. Make love to me.”
I hesitate, her words about her parents echoing in my thoughts. Whatever happens next between us, it might change things forever. Meeting her already has, but she’s too tempting spread out like a feast. I kiss her, rolling my tongue around inside her mouth so she can taste herself.
“Hmmm,” she moans, gripping my neck and pulling me in closer. “You got on too many clothes.”
I chuckle, pulling my sweatshirt over my head and stripping out of my pants and briefs. I’m climbing back to her on the bed, but she presses her hand to my chest.
“Wait,” she breathes. “Let me look at you.”
Avid eyes explore me as surely as a caress, and I feel the weight of her desire over my chest and abs and lower like a touch.
“You have a beautiful dick,” she says, taking me in hand and stroking.
“Fuck.” I go rigid and lean my forehead against hers while she pulls on me and cups my balls. “I’m gonna lose it if you keep that up.”
We laugh and the breaths mingle between our lips.
“Condom?” she whispers.
I nod jerkily and go through the motions of getting it from my pocket and wrapping up. “You sure you’re okay? With this? With us, I mean?”
There’s a split second where that hesitation seems to cross her face, but maybe I imagined it, because her nod, her touch, is eager.
“Yeah. I’m good.”
I carefully settle between her legs, hooking one elbow behind her knee and positioning myself at, not only the threshold of her body, but what feels like the threshold of possibility.
Yeah, it’s too fast and it’s too intense, but poised to make love to the most mesmerizing girl I’ve ever met, I don’t know how to stop it. I don’t want to.
I push forward, but her body resists.
“God,” I groan. “You’re so tight.”
“You’re so big,” she giggles, but grimaces a little. “Shit. It didn’t feel this big in my mouth.”
“Don’t make me laugh right now. Are you okay if I…”
I dip my head to find her eyes, and my breath stalls at, not just the desire so clearly in the look waiting for me, but the trust.
“Are you okay?” I ask again, brushing my knuckle across the downy softness of her cheek.
“I’m okay.” She smiles, her eyes tracing my face like she’s seeing me for the first time, or like she’s seen me in a thousand other lives.
She hooks her ankles at the base of my spine and grabs my ass, urging me forward.
I push in deeper, and we moan together at that clasp of flesh and soul.
She’s tight and hot and so slick I slide home and am fully seated.
As badly as my dick wants me to move, every other part of me stills with our bodies flush like palms pressed together in prayer.
What’s happening between us transcends anything I’ve known before.
I have no frame of reference for this tightness in my chest and the emotion burning my throat.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I chant, resting my forehead against hers. “This is… Vee, you feel—”
“I know,” she whispers, tilting her head and brushing her lips over mine. “Fuck me.”
I palm her head, sinking my fingers into her curls and kissing her lightly with the first thrust. Then deeper, my tongue mimicking the motions of my body as I push in and pull out and push in and pull out, setting a rhythm so fierce the legs of her bed scrape across the floor.
I brace one hand on the wall above us and pull her knee up past my hip, rocking into her like I’ve never done this before, but also like this is all I’ve ever done.
She gasps, dropping her head back into the pillow, her nails digging into my back.
“Come again for me,” I breathe into the curve of her neck. “I want it to be good for you.”
“It is. God, it’s so good. You’re fucking me so good.”
I know that, I feel that, but it still seems wrong to reach that height alone. To come without her our first time.
“Touch yourself,” I say. “For me, just do it, Vee.”
Beneath me, her eyes go tender, indulgent, but she slips her hand between us, and with each thrust, I feel her fingers dip, stroking herself. She bites her lip and bangs her fist into the wall behind us as the orgasm hits and she unravels for me.
Seeing her come again, I lose all control and restraint.
I’m mindless and cut free of rational thought, a hundred sensations rolling through me like a storm.
We’re coated in sweat, slick, grunting, groaning, when our shouts fill the room and we tumble over that edge.
For seconds, I float over the whole earth.
My body and heart and soul settle on another plane, and she’s right there with me.
I never want it to end, but it does, and we crash in a tangle of limbs and lips, each kiss a discovery.
Like we had no idea what we just did together even existed.
As she curls up against me, feathering kisses on my face, I realize it didn’t exist.
Not until just now because we didn’t just make love. We made us.