Chapter 5 #2
“Celia.” He traces his thumb along my cheekbone, and I close my eyes at the sensation.
“I know it’s unprofessional. I know you’ll be leaving tomorrow and this is probably a terrible idea, and I’m not usually impulsive about things like this.” I open my eyelids to find him watching me intently. “But I can’t seem to make myself care about any of those very rational objections.”
“What do you care about?”
“Right now? The way you’re looking at me. The way you listened when I talked about my father. The way you make me feel like maybe taking risks isn’t always a mistake.”
He moves closer, and I can smell his cologne mixed with the scent of rain from our earlier hike. “You’re not mistaken.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because I’ve never met anyone like you.” He cups my face, thumb still tracing gentle patterns on my skin. “Because you bake muffins for strangers and walk ridiculous dogs and create beautiful spaces for people you’ve never met.”
“Those aren’t particularly remarkable qualities.”
“They are to me.”
The words are hardly more than a whisper, but they hit me with the force of a shout. When was the last time someone looked at the ordinary details of my life and saw something worth admiring? When did someone last make me feel like my simple kindnesses mattered?
“Aleks...”
“Tell me to stop.” His face is close enough now that I can feel his breath against my lips. “Tell me this is a bad idea, and I’ll go back upstairs. We’ll pretend this never happened.”
I should tell him to stop. Every rational part of my brain is screaming warnings about getting involved with a guest, about letting attraction override good judgment, and reminding me I know almost nothing about this man who’s somehow become the most compelling person I’ve met in years.
Instead, I close the remaining distance between us and press my lips to his.
The kiss starts gently, like a question more than a statement, but when he responds by pulling me closer, gentleness transforms into something hungrier.
I thread my fingers through his hair and deepen the kiss, tasting wine and want and something that might be desperation.
He groans against my mouth, and the sound sends heat straight through me to my pussy. He puts his hands on my waist, pulling me closer until there’s no space left between us on the couch. I straddle his lap without breaking the kiss, and he holds me like I might disappear if he lets go.
“Oh, Celia.” He trails kisses along my jaw, finding the sensitive spot just below my ear that makes me shiver. “You’re incredible.”
I should probably say something in response, but his mouth on my throat has short-circuited my ability to form coherent thoughts. Instead, I arch into his touch and let my hands explore the solid muscles of his chest through his shirt.
He finds the hem of my sweater and slips his hands underneath, palms warm against my skin. I gasp at the contact, suddenly desperate to feel more of him, to eliminate every barrier between us. “Upstairs,” I manage to say between kisses. “My bedroom.”
He pulls back to look at me, eyes dark with desire but still careful. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” I frame his face with my hands, making sure he can see the certainty in my expression. “I want this. I want you.”
He stands easily, lifting me with him, and I wrap my legs around his waist as he navigates toward the stairs by candlelight. The movement makes me acutely aware of how aroused he is, and how much he wants this too.
My bedroom is dark, lit only by the candle he grabbed from the living room. He sets me down beside the bed and immediately pulls me back into his arms, claiming my mouth with renewed hunger. I fumble with the buttons of his shirt, finally succeeding in pushing it off his shoulders.
The candlelight reveals a body that speaks of strength and discipline, with lean muscles and subtle scars that make me wonder about his past. I trace patterns on his chest with my fingertips, fascinated by the way he responds to my touch.
“Your turn.” He reaches for the hem of my sweater, pausing to give me one last chance to change my mind.
I lift my arms in answer, and he pulls the sweater over my head. The cool air makes me shiver, but his appreciation warms me from the inside out.
“Beautiful.” He traces the edge of my bra with one finger, making me arch into his touch. “So beautiful.”
He reaches behind me to unclasp my bra, and I let it fall to the floor without self-consciousness. His hands cup my breasts, brushing his thumbs over my nipples that tighten at his touch. When he bends to take one into his mouth, I cry out at the sensation. “Aleks, please.”
He guides me backward until my legs hit the edge of the bed, then helps me lie down. The position puts me at his mercy, but I’ve never felt safer or more desired. He takes his time removing the rest of my clothes, pressing kisses to each newly revealed inch of skin.
When he slides my panties down my legs, his breath stutters for a second before returning to an even rhythm. “You’re so beautiful, Celia.”
I reach for him, wanting to touch him too, but he catches my hands gently. “Let me taste you first.”
The words send a shock of arousal through me. I nod, unable to form words as he settles between my thighs. He starts with soft kisses along my inner thighs, building anticipation until I’m trembling with need. “Please,” I whisper.
He looks up at me with dark eyes before lowering his mouth to my pussy. The first touch of his tongue makes me cry out, and I arch my back off the bed. He explores me slowly, learning what makes me gasp and moan. His tongue dips and curls, stroking my clit and up and down my slit.
“You taste incredible,” he whispers against me before returning his attention to my clit.
I thread my fingers through his hair, holding him to me as he works me with his tongue. He alternates between broad strokes and focused attention that has me writhing beneath him. When he slides two fingers inside me while continuing to lick and suck, I nearly come apart immediately.
“Oh, god, Aleks. Don’t stop.”
He increases the pressure and speed, reading my body’s responses perfectly. My orgasm is building, coiling tight in my belly as he drives me higher.
“I want to watch you come,” he says, lifting his head just enough to speak. “Let go for me.”
His fingers curl inside me, hitting that perfect spot while his mouth returns to my clit.
The combination sends me over the edge with a sharp cry, my whole body tensing as waves of pleasure wash over me.
He works me through it gently, his touch becoming softer as I become oversensitive.
When I finally relax back onto the bed, he kisses his way up my body.
“My turn,” I say breathlessly, reaching for him.
He shakes his head, already moving over me, and I can see how affected he is by what just happened. His cock is hard and leaking, and when I wrap my hand around him, he groans.
“Next time,” he promises, hastily stripping off his clothes before returning to me. “Right now, I need to be inside you.”
By the time he’s on the bed again, I’m trembling with need once more. He settles between my thighs and strokes the heat of his cock against my pussy as he supports his weight on his forearms.
“Last chance to change your mind.”
“Not a chance.” I pull him down for another kiss, pouring all my want and wonder into the connection between us.
He reaches between us, sliding his fingers through my wetness, and I gasp at the contact. “You’re so ready for me.”
“Please, Aleks. I need you inside me.”
He positions himself at my entrance, the big head of his cock pressing against me. When he pushes forward slowly and carefully, my inner walls stretch to accommodate him. He’s bigger than I expected, and the delicious fullness makes me moan.
“You feel incredible,” he whispers against my ear, pausing to let me adjust. “So tight and wet.”
I wrap my legs around his waist, urging him deeper. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
He begins to move with slow, deep strokes that have me arching beneath him. Each thrust hits something inside me that makes stars explode behind my eyelids. I’ve never felt so full or so perfectly matched to another person.
“Harder.” I gasp, digging my nails into his shoulders. “I won’t shatter.”
He responds by increasing his pace, driving into me with controlled power that makes the bed creak beneath us. The sound of our bodies moving together fills the room, along with our ragged breathing and soft moans.
“Touch yourself,” he commands, his voice rough with desire. “I want to feel you come around my cock.”
I slide my hand between us, finding my clit and rubbing in tight circles. The added stimulation combined with his relentless thrusts pushes me closer to the edge.
“That’s it,” he encourages, watching my face in the candlelight. “Let me see how good it feels.”
I increase the pressure on my clit, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. The tension builds inside me like a coiled spring, ready to snap at any moment. “I’m going to come,” I warn him, my voice high and desperate.
“Come all over my cock, Celia. Let me feel your pussy squeezing me.”
His words push me over the edge. I cry out as my orgasm crashes through me, clenching around his cock in waves of pleasure. He groans at the sensation, and his thrusts become erratic as my walls milk his sheath.
“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He’s sweating and panting, his control finally visibly slipping. “I can’t hold back much longer.”
“Don’t,” I manage to say between gasps. “I want to feel you come inside me.”
The words seem to break something in him. He pounds into me with abandon, chasing his own release. I feel another orgasm building, smaller but no less intense, as he hits that perfect spot inside me with each thrust.
“Celia…” He groans, and his shaft swells inside me just before he explodes, filling me with his hot release. The sensation triggers my second climax, and we ride out the waves together, clutching each other desperately.
He collapses beside me, pulling me against his chest as we both struggle to catch our breath. His cum leaks from me as a delicious reminder of what we just shared.
We lie together afterward, breathing hard and processing what just happened. He pulls the covers over us and gathers me against his chest, and I let myself enjoy the unfamiliar luxury of being held without having to analyze or plan or worry about tomorrow.
He presses a kiss to the top of my head, and I feel him smile against my hair. “I should probably tell you I’m not usually impulsive about things like this either.”
I smile. “Really? You seem like someone who’s comfortable taking risks.”
“Professional risks, maybe. Personal ones...” He tightens his arms around me. “This is new territory.”
I lift my head to look at him in the candlelight. “Good new territory?”
“The best.”
Outside, the storm is finally beginning to quiet, but neither of us suggests returning to separate rooms. Instead, we talk quietly until the candle burns low, sharing stories and trading gentle touches that have nothing to do with passion and everything to do with connection.
I fall asleep in his arms, feeling safer and more content than I have in months. Whatever happens tomorrow, whatever complications arise from this decision, tonight was worth it.
Tonight, I chose connection over caution, and for once in my carefully planned life, the risk paid off in ways I never could have anticipated.