Chapter 20
TWENTY
Warmth slides through me as I come, moaning Adam’s name, head tipped back, eyes drifting shut. I’m straddling his hips, full of his cock. One of his hands is on my hip, the other rolling my nipple perfectly, pulling a few extra moments of bliss from my body.
After a moment, I come back to myself, my eyes open again, my breathing heavy as my head tips down again, meeting Adam’s wide grin, that dazed look I’ve become accustomed to seeing anytime I finish clear on his face.
“Good?” he asks softly.
I roll my eyes and push on his shoulder because we both know I just came hard. “Uh, yeah,” I say through a small, panted laugh and then grin down at him, my hair falling between us.
It was a good freaking night, and it’s only getting better. Adam shifts his hips beneath me, pressing himself somehow deeper into me. A deep groan leaves his lips, and that’s when I look down at him, gasping in horror.
“Oh my god, Adam. I can’t believe…I…and you didn’t. I’m so, so—” A blush burns over my cheeks as I realize I just made myself come on him, completely ignoring his needs, and then…stopped.
“If you fucking apologize for giving me the fucking show of a lifetime, for taking the pleasure you needed when I ordered you to do just that, I’m going to have to spank you for real.”
His threat is nothing of the kind, and instead, I tighten without meaning to around him.
I just came hard, yet suddenly, I’m feeling needy again already.
“Fuck, Wren,” he groans through gritted teeth, bucking up again into me. I give him a devilish look before tightening my inner muscles a second time, though this time it’s on purpose. “A fucking tease.”
I let out a little giggle, my chest feeling light. I didn’t know that sex could be like this—intense and ground-shaking and fun—but I should have known that’s what I’d get with Adam.
“What are you going to do about it?” I ask, trying to make my voice low and seductive. I think I nail it when his eyes flare with heat.
“Can you take another?”
“I…I don’t know?” I say with a giggle.
“Well, we can have fun trying,” he murmurs, hips lifting, pushing in deeper. I let out an outright moan at that.
“Okay,” I whisper when I catch my breath.
“Like this again?”
In the days since the snowstorm, we’ve had sex a handful of times, mainly with me on top, taking what I need, as Adam likes to say, though we’ve also moved to him finishing on top after I come.
I know Adam wants me to make all the decisions for now, so I push back my nerves and tell him what I want.
“Can we, um.” I bite my lip, looking to the side as a blush burns over my cheeks. “Can we try from behind?”
He lifts a hand, nothing but gentleness on his face as he cups my jaw and turns it back to face him.
“Tell me exactly what you want, Wren, and you’ll get it.”
A beat passes before I answer. “Hands and knees?”
He groans deep, closing his eyes, and I can’t help but feel pride at pushing his buttons and tugging at the strings of his control.
It’s gone when his hands move to my waist, lifting my body.
I mewl at the loss of him, something that pulls a chuckle from him before he tosses me to the bed and moves to his knees.
Gently, his hands go to me, shifting and moving me until I’m on my hands and knees, Adam kneeling behind me.
My breath hitches in my chest as he notches the head of his cock into me, then slowly, agonizingly slowly, pushes into me.
A low groan escapes my chest at the sensation, at the way he slides against swollen tissue and hits me at a new angle.
I tip my hips a bit, taking more of him, and he hisses when he finally sinks all the way in.
“Is this what you wanted, sweetness?” he asks, his hands on my hips.
I nod quickly and moan as he slides out, then in again.
“You wanted to be fucked, didn’t you?” I nod again, then groan when he picks up the pace.
I start to back into him with each thrust in, my back arching as I do.
He takes the hint and starts moving harder and faster.
“Fuck, you should see yourself like this, Wren. Taking my cock like my sweet little good girl, hips bucking back into me, begging for more.”
“Yes,” I breathe, my pussy tightening around him. It’s building again, bigger than before, and I moan. “Fuck, Adam. I’m close.”
A growl leaves his lips, and I tighten. “Tell me what you need, Wren.”
I moan as the head of his cock hits my front wall, but I don’t speak. I don’t tell him that I want him to reach around and rub my clit, to make me come a second time while he finds his own release.
“Wren,” he grunts. “Tell. Me. What. You. Want.”
He says it, thrusting in between each word, and my vision blurs, my pussy tightening with pleasure as I move closer and closer to the edge.
I can’t speak, hell, I can barely even breathe.
I shake my head, hair falling before me as I feel his fingers tighten on my hips.
A deep growl leaves his lips, and I moan at the sound, but that turns into a scream when his hand leaves my hip and comes back down, hard and quick, spanking my ass.
I let out a scream of pleasure, and my body shakes, moving close to the edge. I tighten around him, and he bites out a curse.
“Of course, you fucking liked that,” he groans, sliding deeper than before as my back arches deeper. “My perfect fucking woman.”
My hands lose purchase, my mind no longer able to concentrate on keeping me up, and I lie down, my chest touching the bed. It changes the angle of his thrusts again, and I moan desperately, my hips moving back, needing more.
Adam’s hand moves back again and slaps my ass, the other cheek, and I tighten again, a pained, needy sound leaving my lips.
“Tell me what you want, Wren, or we’ll be here all fucking night.” There’s a plea in his voice, and some primal part of me wants nothing more than to please him, to give him what he wants.
Then I realize that what he wants is to give me what I want. Our needs and wants form a perfect circle. He wants to give me what I need, and I want to do the same. I push back the hint of embarrassment that still lingers and shout out the answer.
“My clit! I need you to rub my clit.”
“That’s my fucking girl,” he grits out, then a hand leaves my hip one last time, sliding forward toward my belly and strumming my clit.
It’s oversensitized, and I’m already so close to the edge that it just takes a few firm swipes before I’m tumbling, falling hard and fast. Stars shoot behind my eyes as I scream his name, as my body quakes, pleasure shooting through me with such ferocity, I wonder if I black out for a moment.
But I force myself to stay on this planet when I feel his fingers tighten on my hip, when I feel him slam deep.
I love nothing more than witnessing and feeling Adam come, and I’m not going to miss that.
I glance over my shoulder to see his head tipped back, divine rapture written on his face as he calls out my name like I am the end-all and the be-all of all things good in his life, and he fills me.
I continue to watch as his grip loosens, as his shoulder muscles slacken, and as he blinks, and then comes back to this planet.
He looks down at me, the very edges of his lips tipping up as he looks at me with entertained awe, as if I make his world turn.
“Was that so hard?”
Then I burst out laughing.
“I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Adam,” I say with a groan. His head snaps up to look at me, hunched over some of the sturdy construction paper as he cuts out one of the paper Santa hats that we’ll glue to a popsicle stick as a photo prop with snail-like speed.
It was after I came home from work and went to my place to drop off my things and grab the photobooth material.
After Adam showed up at my front door and insisted on carrying all of it over himself.
When I protested, he gave me a hard kiss and told me to pick out some sleep clothes for the night, and that was all I was allowed to carry.
Long after he decided he needed to have me the second I walked into his house, and long after dinner, which consisted of pasta and homemade garlic bread.
Now the photo backdrop is finished, and we’re working on the final props together.
“We’re almost done,” he says. “I know I’m slow, but—”
I laugh and shake my head, then brush the lips I’m gluing to a popsicle stick off my lap onto the coffee table.
“No, no. Not that. Honestly, I got more done than I anticipated with your help, so I can wrap it up and finish tomorrow.” I’m done working on these tonight.
Right now, I just want to spend the night with Adam.
I put on my sternest expression before I relay my next demand.
“But I can’t deal with your place. If you’re going to want me to spend nights here, we’re going to have to liven this place up. ”
He lifts an eyebrow at me, then reaches over to where I sit on the couch and tugs me, maneuvering me until I’m straddling his hips.
“Oh?”
There’s a hint of a smile on his lips, which makes me feel more at ease with continuing.
“Yes! It's dead in here. I get it, you hate Christmas, blah blah blah…but you don't even have normal decorations. And you don’t have a tree! I struggle to spend long periods in December in a house without a tree. I only get so long to enjoy them,” I pout, and he laughs, gripping my waist and moving me once more until I’m on my back on his couch with his body hovering over me.
He leans down to press a sweet kiss to my lips before pulling back and taking in my face.
“You want me to get a tree, baby?” he asks softly.
My eyes go wide, and excitement races through my veins as I nod.
“Then let's go get me a tree.” I squeal with excitement and clap. He lets out a laugh before he turns both of us so we’re lying side by side on the couch.
His hand moves up, tucking a strand of hair back, and I plant a hand on his chest. “You seem excited by that.”
“You have no idea. Okay, so I prefer real trees, obviously. A fake one is almost sacrilege in my family, but if you don’t want to deal with the cleanup, I’ll endure a fake one so long as it’s pre-lit.”
“Wren, if I’m getting a tree to make you happy, we’re getting the kind you want.” My eyes go wide with disbelief.
“Really?”
‘Yeah, baby. Really.”
“Can we go now?” I ask, trying to stand up, but his hands tighten their hold on me, and he laughs, shaking his head.
“It’s after nine at night, babe. I don’t think anywhere is open.” I groan, and he laughs at it, but I don’t feel any kind of embarrassment, just excitement. “We’ll go tomorrow,” he says. “Got anything going on?”
Tomorrow is Saturday, and for the first time in a long time, I haven’t offered to do anything tomorrow. Not a fundraiser, not something for the school, not a favor to a friend or a friend of a friend.
I got asked, for sure. In fact, as I was headed out the door today, I was asked by Mrs. Crowley if I could babysit tomorrow.
I almost said yes, but I remembered Adam’s eager look when I told him I’d do better at slowing down, and I recalled that I don't have to do everything for everyone. Instead of accepting, I gave her an apologetic look and told her I couldn’t.
I felt immense guilt as I turned her down, especially when I technically didn’t have anything happening, but that evaporated when she shrugged like it was no big deal.
“No worries,” she said. “I’ll ask Jennie. Enjoy your weekend, Wren!”
She wasn’t mad at me.
She didn’t think I was selfish.
The world didn't collapse.
As seems to be happening often lately, my eyes were opened.
“Nope,” I say, giddy to give him the news. “Free all day.”
He looks at me, impressed, knowing how rare that is for me, before he pulls me in to press a kiss to my lips, almost like he’s proud of me.
“Where should we go?”
I bite my lip, looking anywhere but at him.
“Um,” I start, my heart pounding. “So, we could go to Meyers Grocery. They have a small selection in their parking lot…or we could go to one of the home improvement stores and scavenge their stock…”
He scans my face, tipping his head and reading between the lines as he always seems to be able to do. “But…?”
“But…” I sigh. “But my parents would probably kill me if they found out. They own a tree farm, and that's where everyone gets their trees. It’s a whole thing—chop down the tree, a little spot for cocoa, and it’s all crazy-decorated, of course.
I promise I’m not trying to push meeting the parents or anything, it’s just a small town, as you know.
And news travels fast and—” Nerves are eating at me, and I’m rambling now, but my words are stopped with warm hands on my jaw and Adam pulling me in close to press his lips to mine.
It’s soft and sweet and quick, silencing me before he rests his forehead to mine.
“We’ll go to your family’s farm, Wren.”
“I don’t want to be pushy, I—”
“Are you mine?” he asks for the second time today.
This time, it makes my pulse pound. With the way he’s holding me, the way he’s looking at me, it feels more intimate, more important—a bigger question than those three words.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Then it’s going to happen one way or another. Better to do it now when we have a reason to be there, right?”
I bite my lip, seeing the truth in his words, before nodding. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Then we’ll go tomorrow. Get me a tree. But you have to help me get the stuff to decorate it and put it up, okay?”
My chest fills with warmth. “That I can do.”