Chapter 33 #2
just watching you play.” I practically groaned at the thought. Her body, although relaxed, was still visibly strong, each
muscle like rock underneath her soft skin, and watching her work it, whether it was on court, in the gym or on this goddamn
bed drove me to insanity. “You look so fucking powerful out there.”
She pushed herself up on her elbows, her blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. Smirking, she said, “Not so bad yourself.”
I crooked an eyebrow. “That’s all you’ve got for me?”
Her playful expression changed, something serious slotting into place as she kicked her shoes off, one by one.
“You’re so fucking beautiful that it almost hurts.
All the goddamn time.” Chloe whispered the words, her eyes on mine, as if they were a confession, something between the two of us only.
“But when you play, it’s like watching art come to life. ”
My limited control vanished, her words ringing in my ears as my fingers hooked on her jeans, pulling them off. I wanted to
show her how she made me feel, wanted to wrap her legs around my neck and not stop until every knot in her body had come undone.
Until I showed her exactly what I could do for her.
I was instantly rewarded with the sight of her muscular thighs, those teasing tan lines where sun-kissed skin met pale, a
blessing from spending hours at practice. Throwing the jeans to the floor, I fell to my knees, pulling at the backs of her
legs so she sat perched on the edge of the bed. She squealed again at the swift movement, propping herself up, her hair falling
perfectly, chest rising, legs spread.
She looked like a fucking goddess.
I started with her calves. My fingers running up the length of strong muscle as she shivered slightly at the touch, a gasp
leaving her mouth. I traveled further, every inch feeling like heaven to touch. Her eyes stayed trained on me, the hunger
and lust deep in the heated gaze, her mouth parted.
I pushed her legs open, revealing the delicate lace thong that remained, and kissed along her inner thigh. One hand gripped
tightly onto her leg, as if to anchor myself to her. There was a slight tremble in the grip, the edge of nerves eating at
me.
What if she decided I wasn’t what she wanted after all?
What if I gave her everything I had, and it wasn’t enough?
What if I wasn’t enough?
But I looked up and found her gaze already on me. Her attention burned bright, scalding with the heat her eyes held. An unusual
softness slackened her features, an expression I’d never seen directed towards anyone else except me. And my nerves disappeared.
This was different. She was different.
My fingers grazed against the lace, the tight knot of want pulling, even tightening, at the simple contact.
Deep, heavy breaths broke into quiet, hushed moans, each sound from Chloe a symphony. Pushing up, I kissed down her stomach, my fingers pulling the band of lace, using my last piece of strength to not immediately tear them from her.
“Fuck, Inés, I need you . . .” Chloe cried, her hands in my hair, pressing. I grinned against her, lowering myself again between
her legs, her thighs pushed wide. I kissed up the inside of her thigh, teasing myself as much as her. Her hips pushed up,
her fingers hooking on her thong, pushing it down.
My finger pushed the material down the rest of the way. It was taking every shred of self-control to stop myself from going
too fast.
I wanted to bury myself in her. To run my tongue and suck like I did at the base of her neck. Have her legs pull me in deeper,
feel her get wetter. Taste her.
Slipping the lace down her thighs, I threw the thong across the room, before taking in the sight. She was completely bare,
laid out in front of me, her hand between parted legs.
Gorgeous. She was gorgeous, strong sculpted shoulders, long arms that currently sat between her thighs and, as she touched
herself, a lazy grin across her face.
The sight alone could’ve brought me to the edge.
“Do you know what you’re doing to me?” I wheezed. My hands worked at the halter neck of my dress, wanting to feel my skin
against hers, pulling it down and leaving it like a puddle at my knees.
“Well, right now I’m showing you what you do to me,” she replied smugly as she moved her hand. “So, I imagine it’s something
like this,” she gasped, sinking two fingers into herself.
My body slackened at the sight that was only reserved for my dirtiest dreams. But I leaned forward again, gently gripping
the palm of her hand. With her eyes burning into mine, I pulled her fingers in between my lips, ran my tongue along them and
tasted her, as if I couldn’t bear to let any go to waste.
Her legs spread open even further, needy and hungry for more. “Please, Inés.”
“So demanding,” I murmured, my hand restraining her wrist. Her hips bucked as I leaned in close, but I was careful not to
allow contact. Not yet.
“Fuck,” she begged. “Please.”
“What do you need, Chloe?”
“You,” she cried, her hips moving again. With my free hand, I pushed down on her hips, restraining her. Another noise of annoyance
left her, vibrating through her body and into mine. “Tongue, fingers, anything, please.”
“Do you think of me between your thighs?” I asked, lowering my head again. I kissed along her center, letting cool air hit
the most sensitive part of her.
“Every night.” Chloe wriggled, her voice pleading. “Inés, please . . .”
I released her wrist, centering my finger at her entrance, barely pushing in to tease her. She arched off the mattress in
anticipation but breathlessly groaned in annoyance when I denied her again.
“Do you have a toy or do you use your fingers?” I asked, dragging my fingertip along her cunt. She shook uncontrollably beneath
me. Her hands pulled and pushed at my hair, the desperation in her force growing.
She couldn’t get the word out. “Toy.”
For a split second, I considered running down the hall to her room, finding it to use on her. The image of pushing her even
further to the edge, holding a low buzz function to her clit, allowing her a shallow finger or two. I was almost tempted,
even if I could only watch.
“We can save that for later.” I deepened my finger, pushing in only a little. A moan ripped out of her, loud and unbounded.
“Right now, I want to show you what you’ve been missing.” I spoke against her, pressing one last kiss to the inside of her
thigh.
Before she could react, I pressed forward, running my mouth to her pussy.
Immediately I lost myself in her. My hands gripped her hips, pulling her harder against my face, burying myself into her.
Being that close wasn’t enough, but I doubted anything else would ever bring me this level of satisfaction now that I’d tasted her.
Everything became a blur. My mouth on her, my tongue lapping, the taste addictive. Her legs tightening around my neck, fingers
pulling at my hair as she moaned and bucked underneath me. I lined up two fingers and pushed inside of her, curling upwards.
Warm and tight. She felt like fucking heaven.
I became unhinged, my free hand sinking between my own thighs, the insatiable need to orgasm at the same time as her, like
I wanted to come along with her.
“Inés,” Chloe managed through gasps. The sound of my own name nearly finishing me off alone. “You’re incredible. This is incredible.”
I pulled away as I pushed a third finger inside her. “Do you like that? With my tongue?”
“Fuck yes.”
I gazed up, watching as she sprawled out on the bed, back arched, her hands squeezing and pulling at her breasts. She was
more beautiful than I could have ever imagined, undone like this. Like finally, we’d stripped back all the layers, all the
protective armor, until I’d found her.
“Tell me . . . did he treat you this good?” I almost begged, unable to bring myself to say his name. I knew I was being selfish, that he was my friend, but I was desperate to know that this was better for her.
That she wanted me as much as I wanted her.
“It has never felt like this. With anyone.” I allowed Chloe to drag my head back to her, and rewarded her with my lapping
tongue, sucking at her clit, doing everything I could to bring her to orgasm, my own hand sending me closer and closer.
I worked hard against her, desperate to feel her come against my mouth. She rocked harder against me, my fingers deeper, curling and stroking her G-spot. I wanted this from her, I needed it. She squeezed against me, and I knew she was close.
“Come for me,” I begged against her. “Let go for me. I want to feel you.”
I dedicated myself, mind, body and soul to her. As if she was an altar, as if she was a god. I was a tool for her pleasure,
devoted to only her. Her hips worked against my tongue, her body practically vibrating against me, and I could tell she was
as desperate and wild as I was.
And then she broke. She slowed in pace but grew with intensity as she moaned my name. It grew all too much for even me, and
I cried out against her, the vibrations sent straight against her cunt as I came against my own fingers. Even then, I continued
to work, making sure I enjoyed every second of her orgasm.
She began to slow, panting heavily. I pulled out, cleaning her from my fingers, determined to enjoy everything she offered
me. I looked up to her, finding her lying flat on the bed, her chest heaving for breath.
I crawled up the bed, desperate to kiss her, to show her how good she tasted on my lips. To see how wild she looked, untethered.
Instead, my heart stopped at the sight of tears rolling down her face.
“Joder, Chloe.” I scooped her up in my arms, pulling her close into my chest. “Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?”
Her head shook, soothing my biggest fear. My heart pounded hard, my hands pulling her closer, squeezing her.
“It’s just . . .” Chloe murmured, another ragged sob tearing from her. I pulled back, desperate to see her face. Her gaze
connected with mine immediately, the intensity and emotion overwhelming. She swallowed. “I’ve never felt like that. I’ve never . . .”
Her body slumped in my arms as I realized what she was saying.
“I’ve never been able to come with another person.”
I didn’t feel anything but sadness for her as I held her in my arms, pulling her to me as she broke out in a sob again.
“You’re good. You’re safe. Don’t worry, let it go.” I brushed my hand down her hair, trying to show her every bit of intimacy I could. Her body melted against mine, a tangle of limbs, and I felt incredibly overwhelmed at the softness of her, at how tiny she suddenly felt in my arms.
I was awash with emotion, with protectiveness for this woman. “It’s never felt like that for me either,” I admitted, kissing
her forehead, sweat sticking hair to skin. “I didn’t know it could be that good.”
She pulled back, her lips pressed to mine as her fingers dug into my back, tears drying on her skin. Goddamn, how did she always look so perfect?
“Really?” she asked.
I nodded in response, kissing her again, unable to help myself. I wanted every bit from her, every moment of intimacy. As
if I was still starving for her. And I wasn’t sure if I knew how to stop, if I could shut off the way my heart was beating
for her, if I could temper the overwhelming need to show her, all over again, how much I wanted her.
Maybe I was too far gone for any brakes.
Maybe this was a need I’d have the rest of my life.
Maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.