50. West
CHAPTER 50
WEST
I want every night to be like this.
Nora, sitting opposite me in the orangery, eating dinner, with her hair undone and a true smile on her face. Telling me about her final design and how nervous she is about the fashion show next week.
What would it be like? If she were the one I married? If Rafe wasn’t an issue, if I could make her love me… If she wore my ring. If this was dinner every night.
She’s excited about the Spring Ball tomorrow, the famous Calloway party, and Rafe showing up. I’m not, but her excitement is enough to make it all worth it.
“The cat?” she tells me, drawing up her knees after dinner. “I’m going to keep him.”
“Keep it, are you?”
“Well. On your behalf.” Her cheeks are rosy. “I bought him a collar, and I’m trying to think of a name. He belongs here. At Fairhaven. Don’t protest, because you’re starting to like him too.”
I tap my fingers against the table. “I am?”
“Yes, you are. You’re charmed, despite yourself.” She tilts her head a little and looks at me. She’s the one who should stay. Move in here permanently. There’s a fierceness in her tonight.
“I’m still a bit annoyed with you for keeping that secret, you know.”
“Mhm.”
“Despite that… I still enjoy being around you.”
My fingers still. “Is that a first for you?”
“Yes.” She cocks her head. Her eyes are narrow, and dancing, and beautiful. The whole reason she’s here, that she’s living with me, that we’re dating… it’s falling away. Crumbling.
She pushes back her chair and walks around the table to me. I open my arms, but she doesn’t sit in my lap. She reaches for my hand instead. “Come with me. I want to try something.”
That’s how I find myself being pushed into one of the armchairs in the library, the door shut behind us, with Nora kissing her way down the column of my throat. She’s told me to keep my hands on the armrests, and I dig my fingers in to keep from touching her.
“I want to try,” she says, unbuttoning my shirt, sliding down my body, “what a real girlfriend would do. We just had dinner together. It was a date.”
“Nora…”
She drops to her knees in front of me. The rush of want that floods me takes all the air with it, and I harden so fast it makes my head spin.
She reaches for the buckle of my belt. “I know we don’t have much time left now. We know who the stalker is, you’re heading for a loveless deal of a marriage, and I have my own deadline.”
No, I think. That’s not where I’m heading. That’s not where she’s heading, but I can’t say that, so I grit my teeth to keep the words locked inside. “Let me make you feel good instead,” I tell her.
It’s not right, none of this is, but then her hand reaches inside, and fuck , it’s good. Her touching me like that. I’ve been aching for weeks, with no release other than my own right hand, and feeling her fingers…
“You are bigger than that vibrator. I was right.” She sounds delighted, and I can’t look away from her pretty face so close to my cock. Nora leans forward and licks a tentative stripe along the underside of my head.
“You want to do this?” I ask her. My hands are tight along the edges of the armchair.
She nods. There’s nothing hesitant in her fiery expression. “Show me how you like it.”
It’s blasphemy, it’s pain, it’s salvation. But I reach down and cup her face and tap my thumb against her lower lip. “Open up… that’s it. Suck on the head. Yes. Like that.”
Her pretty lips spread wide, her mouth hot and warm. And maybe she does want to learn how to do this. “Grip me here at the same time.”
Nora wraps her hand around my base, and she starts bobbing her head gently up and down. It’s soft and not as hard as I need it, and it’s the best torture I’ve ever experienced.
She asked for this. She wants to learn.
“You’re doing so good. Can you take me deeper?” My hand is on the side of her cheek, and it’s obscene, feeling it hollow out when she bobs farther down. “That’s it. That’s my girl.”
And who am I kidding? I’m taking advantage of her here. I’m the one dancing right along the edge, and it’s with someone who’s never given head before. How is someone so inexperienced making this so fucking unforgettable?
Nora flicks her tongue along the underside of my head, and I groan. My hand slides back to grip her hair, and fuck, I have to be gentle, have to be good…
“Do that again. Just like that….” She does, and if her mouth feels this good around my cock, how good would it be to be inside her? To introduce her to the real thing, to be her first, to come with her fluttering around me.
Nora speeds up. Her green eyes are locked on mine with triumph, excitement and a hint of something fierce. She’s learning, and she’s making a point, and she’s taking what she wants.
Her other hand digs down into the fabric, grips my balls tight. I hiss, but I stroke her cheek to tell her to keep going. “Look at you.” It’s all I can say for another long minute. “Taking me so damn well.”
I coax her through it, praise turning low and hoarse. I’m hovering on the edge. Have been for so long around her that it doesn’t take much to send me tumbling.
I shouldn’t be enjoying this, shouldn’t want her the way I do every single fucking day, but I do.
Rafe can never find out that I let his little sister do this.
Because I’m letting her suck me off, and it’s proof that I’m wrong for her. What kind of sick bastard would let his best friend’s virgin sister do this? When she’s under my protection; asked me for help with sex; is angry at me for keeping a secret.
I want her to do this every single day for the rest of my life. But I don’t deserve her doing just that.
“I’m going to come if you keep doing that.” My fingers flex in her hair.
She takes me deeper, and the wet, hot suctioning of her mouth is the center of the universe. Pleasure races down my spine, and she’s not stopping, looking at me with those eyes.
Her eyes close on a slow blink, and then she moves her hand in time with her mouth, her tongue, her lips. I should warn her again, but then she flicks her tongue, and fucking hell . My hips lift once off the armchair before I can lock my muscles down.
I come with a loud groan.
Fingers in her hair, shudders racking through my body. Not looking away for a second as she drains me. Not even blinking, and when it’s done, she kisses the crown and sits back on her knees with a small smile.
Her lips are rosy, cheeks red. Waiting, and when I realize what she’s waiting for, my spent cock twitches against my stomach.
“You did so well, sweetheart. Swallowing it all like a good girl.” My shirt is open, legs splayed. Destroyed . “You’ve made me very happy.”
Nora smiles. Pleasure dances in her eyes. “I’ve wanted to try that for days.”
“Yeah? To see if you could wreck me?”
“Yes.” She leans forward and rests her hands on my thighs. Her hair is undone around her shoulders, glossy in the dim lighting of the library. “Is this how you’ll treat your wife?”
My eyes narrow. “What?”
“Will you call her your good girl too, when she pleases you?” She cocks her head a little. “Will you fuck her the way you won’t fuck me?”
“No.”
She sits up straighter, and she strokes a single finger along the length of my cock where it rests against my stomach. “Why not? You won’t lose Fairhaven. You’ve been preparing me for a future guy.” Her fingers tap against the sensitive head, and I grit my teeth. “Why can’t I talk about your future wife?”
“I don’t want a wife.” Unless it’s you. I grip her wrist and tug her up instead. She settles on either side of my knees. “And I don’t want to talk about your future men.”
“So you want us to pretend instead. Like we used to.” She tilts her head again, and her fingers find the scar in my eyebrow. “You’re a hypocrite, Calloway.”
My eyes narrow. “How so?”
“You act like you don’t believe in relationships, but you’re telling me to wait to have sex with someone I care about. With someone who truly matters. That’s a very romantic notion for someone who claims they don’t believe in love.”
I find the curve of her waist and grip her tight like it will keep her from ever leaving. She’s killing me, slicing through me word for word. “Yes. I still stand by it.”
“So you don’t believe in love for yourself, but you believe in it for me?”
My breath is ragged. “I want more for you than I want for me.”
It’s a lie. Maybe the first I’ve ever told her, because fuck if I don’t want it all with her.
Her, or no one.
She smiles. It’s a small, ravenous expression that speaks of victory, and I harden again beneath her. Could take her just like this, in this armchair, if I wasn’t held back by the guilt.
“Thanks for the date,” she says, and she slips off my lap. “It was very… informative.”