Chapter 17 Stays in Vegas #2
“There you are. Stay with me.” I moved back up to kiss her. “We don't have to do anything else. This can be enough.”
“I want to. I just... I'm scared.”
“Of what, sweetheart?” The endearment slipped out before I could stop it.
“Of being too much. Of not being enough. Of disappointing you.” The shudder that went through her eyes had to be the memory of every lover who'd let her think she'd disappointed them.
I'd never been more irritated in my life that I wasn't a serial killer. They all deserved torture at best.
“You could never disappoint me.” I cupped her face with both hands. “You're exactly right. You're exactly perfect. You don't have to be anything but yourself.”
“What if I can't... come?”
“Then we try again. Try something different. Whatever you need.”
She was quiet for a moment, then her tongue darted out wetting her lips. “I want you to touch me.”
“Where?” Why, oh why wasn't I born a supernatural being who could touch her everywhere at once?
She took my hand and guided it between her legs, over her underwear. “Here.”
Thank god I still had my jeans on, because I was going to go off like a rocket and she didn't need to see that right now. I gave my cock a stern but quick lecture to regain control. This. Wasn't. About. Me. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Just... keep talking to me. Keep me here.”
“Always.”
I started slow, gentle pressure over the fabric, watching her face for every reaction. When her eyes started to flutter closed, I called her back.
“Look at me. Stay with me.”
She swallowed hard. “It's intense.”
“I know. But you're safe. I've got you.”
I kept up the gentle rhythm, talking to her the whole time. Telling her how beautiful she was, how perfect, how strong. When I felt her starting to respond, her hips moving slightly, I asked for the one and only thing I wanted, “Can I use my mouth?”
Her eyes went wide. “What?”
“Can I use my mouth on you? I want to taste you.” I was never going to get more than this, so if she'd let me, I'd fuck her with my mouth and tongue.
“I... umm...I don't know if I'll be able to come like that. Nobody's been able to...”
“Then let me be the first. Let me show you how good it can be.”
Let me worship you the way you deserve. Let me love you the only way I can.
“Okay.”
I moved down her body slowly, pressing kisses to her stomach, her hips, the inside of her thighs. When I pulled her underwear off, I took a moment just to look at her.
“Fuck,” I murmured. “So fucking beautiful.”
I should have kissed and licked and teased her, but I just couldn't wait anymore. The first touch of my tongue was straight to her plump little clit and made her gasp. She immediately tried to close her legs and I reveled in her thighs wrapped around my head.
“Too much?”
“No, just... I didn't expect the rub of your beard to feel so... good.”
Thank god for the beard. “We can stop.”
“No. No, please don't stop.”
I took my time, learning what made her gasp, what made her moan, what made her hands tighten in my hair. When I slipped one finger just barely into her, she tensed up, overthinking, I reached up and took her hand.
“Stay with me. Just feel.”
“I can't... I don't think I can...”
“You can, you already are. Trust me. Trust yourself.” I squeezed her hand. “Stop thinking about what should happen. Just feel what is happening.”
I went back to work, pouring everything I felt for her into this act of worship. Every stroke of my tongue was an I love you. Every kiss to her pussy was a promise I couldn't make out loud. This was my one chance to show her how she should be loved, and I was going to make it count.
Slowly, I slipped my finger back in, and stroked in and out, matching the motion with flicks of my tongue. Her thighs started to tremble, and I looked up at her.
“Look at me,” I commanded gently. “I want to see you when you let go.”
“Gryff, I can't—“
“Yes you can. I've got you. Let go for me.”
I eased a second finger in and curled my fingers, looking for just the right spot to push her over the edge.
She let out a low moan, and for the first time with another person, she let go completely.
Her back arched, my name on her lips, her thighs tightening around my head, and fuck if that wasn't the hottest thing I'd ever experienced.
I worked her through it, licking and stroking, holding her steady, watching her face as she came apart.
It was the best thing I'd ever witnessed in my life. And the worst, because I'd never get to see it again.
She finally collapsed back, breathing hard, and I moved back up to hold her.
“Oh my god,” she gasped. “That was... I didn't know...”
“That's how it should always be,” I said, pulling her against my chest. “Someone who sees you, really sees you, and gives you what you need.”
Someone who loves you like I do.
Overwhelmed by the intensity, a couple of soft tears pooled in her lashes, and I held her tighter, stroking her hair the way I knew she liked. “You're okay. You're perfect. That was perfect.”
“I didn't know it could be like that,” she whispered against my neck.
“That's how it should be. Someone who makes you feel worthy of being cared for.”
“Thank you,” she said, so quietly I almost missed it.
“For what?”
“For making me feel... needed. Beautiful, worthy. Like I'm enough.”
You're everything. You're my everything.
“You're worthy of everything,” I said instead. “The right person is going to worship you.”
And it was going to kill me that I couldn't be that person for her.
“Like you did?”
“Better,” I lied, the word bitter on my tongue. “So much better.”
She was getting sleepy now, the emotional and physical intensity catching up with her. As she drifted off in my arms, she murmured, “I don't think anyone could be better than you.”
I held her while she slept, memorizing everything. The weight of her against me. The way her hair smelled like strawberries even after a night in Vegas. The little sounds she made in her sleep. The way she'd said my name when she came.
This was it. My one night. Tomorrow we'd go back to being friends. Tomorrow I'd help her with Tyson, watch her fall in love with someone else, pretend this meant nothing more than practice.
But tonight, just tonight, I got to pretend she was mine.
“I love you,” I whispered into the darkness, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I love you so fucking much it's killing me.”
She stirred slightly, murmuring something that might have been my name, and I froze. But she just curled closer, still asleep, trusting me to hold her.
So I did. I held her through the night, watching the Vegas lights paint patterns on the ceiling, counting her breaths, storing up every second of this feeling.
Because tomorrow, I'd have to let her go.
But tonight? Tonight she was mine, even if she didn't know it.
Tonight was everything.