Chapter 31
THIRTY-ONE
Nash’s unexpected kiss sends a shock wave through my body, making me forget all about North and everything else.
His lips are warm and demanding, tasting like beer and ocean again.
I can’t help but respond with equal fervor, the warmth of his lips a stark contrast to the touch-starved cold that was lingering in my bones after the last time we did this.
The sensation is both foreign and achingly familiar.
His fingers tangle in my hair, a tender yet possessive touch that anchors me in the now with him, pulling me even closer.
The tension between us that has been building for days ignites a fiery passion as my hands find their way to his chest, gripping his sweater tightly as if trying to draw his very essence into my skin.
The kiss deepens, and with it, the walls I’ve built around myself start to crumble.
I can taste his desire in every kiss, every touch, and it’s intoxicating.
We stumble backward, our lips still locked together, until the back of my legs hit the edge of the bed.
Nash pushes me gently, and I fall onto the soft mattress, my heart pounding in my chest. He follows me down, his body hovering over mine, and I welcome the weight of him, a pressure I’ve craved without knowing, a physical connection that fills the hollow spaces in my heart.
Our kisses become even more desperate, the heat building between us. Nash’s hand slides down my side, tracing a path of fire along my skin, and I can’t help but gasp as his fingers find the curve of my hip. Needing more, to be seen, to be felt, to be cherished, I arch into his touch.
Just as I think I’m losing my mind, Nash pulls away, his breath heavy. He looks down at me with dark, intense eyes, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Thinking about me now?” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire.
“Yes. Shut up,” I whisper, a plea disguised as an order, pulling him back down to kiss me again, his kiss like a balm to the loneliness that has shadowed me.
He’s savoring me, kissing me languidly, before his lips leave mine and trail a path of hot, lingering kisses down my neck, each one a promise for more whispered against my skin, igniting a trail of desire in their wake.
A low moan escapes my lips as his mouth finds its way to my collarbone, wandering up until his teeth nip the flesh of my throat.
I longed for this, yearned and ached for a touch, for his touch. Even if I didn’t allow myself to dwell on it.
My back arches, a silent plea for more, for everything he can give.
In the give and take of lips and the exchange of breaths, I find that piece of myself that has been locked away.
The piece that needs him.
Nash leans back, pulling me with him so he can grab my top and pull it over my head in a swift motion.
Before the fabric hits the floor, his hands are at my back, opening my bra and pulling it off me with skill.
“Fuck, I missed these pretty tits,” he groans out, leaning in to lick both of them, prompting me to lie back down.
His fingers are playing roughly with my aching nipples, making me squirm underneath him until I’m about to explode. “Nash…” I whimper, needing him to do something.
“That’s right, pretty girl, don’t forget who is making you feel this way,” he murmurs, kissing a trail down my stomach.
Then, opening the zipper on my jeans, he tugs them off with my panties, leaving me bare before him.
“Such a fucking pretty pussy,” he admires as he stands, getting rid of his sweatshirt, jeans, and boxers, all while still having my black lace panties in his grip.
Slipping his socks off, he fishes in the pocket of his jeans lying on the floor for a condom. I watch him roll it on with hurried movements, my eyes fixated on the way his fingers move it over his cock and the contrast of the lace dangling from his hold.
I’m suddenly hit with the sensation of I can’t believe I let this happen again mixed with thank God, it is happening again.
When he comes to lay back on top of me, his body heat radiating, he tells me with a rough voice, “You used your words so well last time, but I think I know how you like it now. This time, I only want to hear you moan.”
He brings my panties to his nose and takes a deep breath, closing his eyes like he’s savoring the smell before he opens them again with even more fire within. Then, bringing the panties to my mouth, he pushes them inside, effectively gagging me.
My breath comes in fast pants through my nose, and I’m checking in with myself to see if this is triggering anything, but my fast heartbeat is only from arousal. The move turns me the fuck on, nothing else.
“Attagirl.” He strokes my cheek when my breathing slows.
“That’s it. Now get your hands on my shoulders and keep them there.
” I do as I’m told, and he grabs one of my thighs to pull it up to his waist, where I keep it.
His hand finds its way to my core. “Are you wet for me, Siren?” he asks, sliding a finger into me, making me let out a muffled gasp.
I have been wet since the dance floor, and the little encounter with North only made it worse.
“You’re dripping,” he groans out, letting his forehead fall to mine.
He slides a second finger inside me, all while rubbing my clit with his thumb, making me squirm and whimper as he picks up the pace, finger fucking me hard, relentlessly.
When I’m just about to come, moaning heavily through the panties in my mouth, my pussy clenches around his fingers.
He chuckles and retrieves his hand, leaving me a panting, scowling mess while he licks me off his fingers.
“Patience, little Siren. I want you to come on my cock while I’m so deep inside you, you’ll see stars,” he promises, and I can’t stop my hips from tilting in anticipation.
Oh my God.
He positions the head of his cock at my entrance, pushing into my pussy with small rocking thrusts that make my whole body flush with heat. My hands stay on his shoulders, but I can’t help but drag my nails into his skin, eliciting a groan from him.
His hands roam my body, his hot mouth nibbling on my neck, biting my shoulder, and only when I’m ready to spontaneously combust does he start fucking me harder.
He gets his arm under my lower back, scooping me up and pulling me in closer, whispering in my ear, “You’re goddamn perfect. I dreamed about this pussy even when I was awake. And now that I have it again, I’ll never leave.”
Why does that sound like a threat and, at the same time, a promise I need him to keep?
I moan when he pinches my nipple before leaning in and biting it.
It’s too much.
It’s not enough.
“Fu-uck,” I try to say, but it comes out muffled.
“Are you gonna come for me? Squeeze my cock and whimper so beautifully for me?” Nash asks while pulling my panties out of my mouth.
I gasp for air, making him chuckle, but it turns into a low groan when my pussy spasms around him.
He leans in and kisses me hard, taking my breath away once more.
“I need my name leaving these pretty lips when I make you come,” he whispers against them, slipping his hand down between us to rub my clit while driving into me at a punishing pace.
The pleasure pools in my core as he rubs me with the perfect pace and pressure. My heart rate picks up, my body tensing as I fall over the edge, trembling and whimpering, locking eyes with him while his name leaves me on a moan.
His hips buck and roll as he forces himself deeper inside me, spilling into the condom, growling as I continue to climax, clenching around him.
He lets his body fall gently on mine, mindful not to crush me, and his hand comes under my head, his fingers threading through my hair. “Attagirl,” he whispers, his breath cooling the warmth of my skin as he kisses my earlobe.
This closeness was something I craved more than I understood, each desperate moan and jolt of pleasure.
It nearly feels like we imprinted on each other.
Now, in the quiet that follows, our breaths mingle heavy and labored, and the cool air does little to temper the heat that still radiates from our bodies.
We’re covered in a sheen of sweat, but I can’t get myself to part from him, to leave his embrace and face the reality that this is all just temporary.
Just a little while longer…