Chapter 26 Elena

ELENA

Even though it’s no surprise this is where he’s headed, it still shocks me to hear him say it and to think of him doing it. I meet his eyes and nod, his lusty gaze making me sigh even before he strokes a finger through my wet flesh.

After all the kissing and touching we’ve been doing, I’m primed and on edge, and my entire body quivers when his tongue dips into my folds.

“This okay?” he asks.

All I can do is nod. It’s been a long time, and I’m not only dealing with a swell of physical sensations, but also an unexpected wave of emotion.

I never thought about experiencing this particular pleasure again, and if I had, I don’t think I could have imagined trusting someone enough to let them get this close to me.

Ogling hot firefighters is one thing, but if it weren’t for their connection to Tyler and their shared pasts, I don’t think I’d have let them into my life. Not this fast, anyway.

It’s not just their connection, though. It’s the way they treat me, how dependable and caring they are. Their actions show me I can trust them, not just with my life, but also enough to let myself go around them.

Weston’s mouth and hands gradually move me out of my head and into my body, where I belong right now.

He’s not rushing this, either. He’s exploring every inch of my most intimate area like he intends to memorize it, and he’s mapping my responses to every move he makes.

He’s learning what I like, and giving me more and more until I have no hope of holding myself together.

He presses a finger inside me as his tongue gently swirls around my clit at such a deliciously languid pace that I could cry. The slower he goes, the more the sensations multiply, and when he swipes his tongue flat across my clit, my world explodes with shooting stars.

My hips seize, then my body pulses with wave after wave of release, so intense I feel like I’m floating. Weston’s not only slow, he’s steady. He keeps licking and sucking and stroking, and he sends me floating off again before I’ve barely recovered.

Finally, he eases back to pepper kisses along my thighs and hips and belly, while I catch my breath. When I open my eyes, he comes up to kiss my mouth. “Been wanting to see you let go like that.”

I stroke his cheek and pull him back in for another kiss. “Mmm, that was …”

His mouth twitches. “You can say nice things about it. I won’t get cocky.”

A little laugh bubbles out of me that feels almost as good as what he just did to me. Almost. “I’d forgotten how … good that feels.”

“I’m happy to be of service any time you need a reminder.” Weston rubs his nose against mine, then gives me another kiss. “Where are all the janitors’ closets at school, by the way? I should map those out.”

“Don’t!” I squeeze his shoulder and pretend I’m pushing him away, but I end up pulling him closer. “I can’t even think about anything like this happening there. It’s my first principal position. I’m not trying to get fired.”

He cocks his head, grins, and gives me eyes that remind me of a puppy. “It’d be worth it, though, right? Admit it.”

Instead of answering, I slide my hand around to the back of his head and pull him in, and he kisses me in a way that floods my sated body with a new rush of desire. As he carries on kissing me, I hear the hiss of his zipper, then the heavy weight of him presses against my belly.

When he pulls back to retrieve a condom from his pants pocket, I sit up, and when he’s sheathed, I urge him to sit on the couch like he’d been doing earlier. I climb into his lap, his cock stiff and proud between us, and my pussy clenches.

I straddle his legs again, spreading myself open above him, because I definitely don’t have his restraint when it comes to things like this. He fists his thick cock, pointing it straight at the ceiling, and I line myself up, ready to take him.

Weston cups my cheek in his hand and stares into my eyes, a move so tender it makes my chest ache. When I start to sink down onto him, his eyes close for a moment, and he groans. “Elena, my god.”

I’m expecting it to hurt because Weston’s just as physically blessed as Buck, but I go slow and let his girth gradually stretch me, and as I continue to take him inside me, it’s pure pleasure.

We smile at each other when I reach his root. They’re tortured smiles, full of heat and need.

“You feel so damn good,” he mutters.

“You can say nice things. I won’t get cocky,” I tease, and when he laughs, his abs clench, pushing his cock deeper. He kisses me, and I’m shocked by how close to him I feel. Not just physically, but emotionally.

When I pull his shirt off over his head—because the only thing sexier than a fireman in a tight t-shirt is a fireman without his shirt—he returns the favor, and soon we’re both fully naked, skin to skin, and it’s glorious.

His torso is all hard lines, old strength, and the kind of muscle that was built for use, and it momentarily distracts me from how good his cock feels inside me.

I run my hands over his shoulders, his chest, and those thick muscles that flare on the sides of his chest, and I’m like a kid in a candy store.

I want everything all at once, and Weston’s giving it to me.

With my hands greedily squeezing the backs of his shoulders, I shift my focus to where we’re joined. I lift nearly off of him, sink down again, then grind myself against him over and over.

Weston grips big handfuls of my ass, urging me on, helping me when I slow, spreading me wider, pressing in deeper, and keeping up a rhythm as I steadily build toward a climax.

When it comes, it’s shattering, and made even more unbelievable when I realize, through my haze, that Weston is coming, too. He squeezes me tight and lets out a long, low groan as his cock pulses, and my pussy throbs around him, wanting to take everything he’s got.

We ride through it together, both of us clinging to each other as our bodies fully let go.

He pulls me close at the end of it, kissing my forehead and smoothing my likely wild-looking hair back from my face. After a shuddering breath, he says, “You should be cocky, sweetheart. I don’t think I’ll get over that anytime soon.”

I might blush if my body weren’t already flushed with pleasure.

He kisses me, then tucks my head against his chest and strokes my back.

As the glow fades, a little flicker of guilt ripples through me. Despite the men’s assurances, something ingrained in me says being with more than one man is wrong, like I’m being reckless and making up for the years I’ve been alone.

But the three of us are being open and honest, and resting here in Weston’s arms doesn’t feel wrong. As I trace a nearly invisible scar I find on his shoulder with lazy fingertips, I think about this man’s quiet strength, his warmth, and his incredible patience.

Our encounter was playful and emotional, and different from what I shared with Buck, which felt intense and raw, yet soothing at the same time. But it’s all new, and maybe being with them again will be different. Despite my reservations, I hope I have a chance to find out.

They’re different men, yet they share the same common threads that attracted me to Tyler all those years ago: Honor, protection, giving care without keeping score.

I haven’t fallen for them because I’m faithless, but because some part of me already knew them.

The things I loved in Tyler hadn’t died with him.

They’d survived in the men he trusted most. The brothers who had carried him, mourned him, and come back from hell with pieces of him lodged in their hearts.

Maybe the guilt I’m carrying isn’t loyalty, but fear.

I’m afraid of leaving Tyler behind and afraid that being loved again would expose how badly I want it. Afraid of losing control.

But I can’t live my life ruled by fear.

Weston’s arm tightens around me as he strokes my shoulder. His lips brush the top of my head. “You all right?”

I draw in a long breath and give it some thought. Maybe letting myself be loved and cared for doesn’t have to feel like betrayal.

I lay my hand over Weston’s heart and feel his warmth and strength surrounding me. “I’m good.”

He squeezes me closer against him. “Good.”

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