Chapter 40
Pen
I am still not thinking about seeds being sown the next morning, when Bear pulls me to lay on top of him.
"Fuck, I love feeling you like this," he says.
We're still in the same clothes we slept in.
I'm wearing a sports bra and panties, and he's in his underwear and shirt.
My long hair falls like a curtain around his face, shadowing his features.
I smile and come down for a lazy kiss. His hands travel up and down my body, making strong passes on my soft flesh.
He puts enough pressure on my back, it feels like a massage.
When he's at my ass, he squeezes hard instead.
"I was hoping we'd do some new things this morning," I say.
"Mhh. Good idea. You should sit on my face."
I make a sound that is half-chuckle, half-snort. "Not done eating me out, yet?"
"Not at all. In fact—" he starts, but he goes quiet when I lift myself to straddle his hips, putting my weight on his hard cock. "Fuck."
"You were saying?"
"Uunnggghhh."
"I see." I roll my hips once. "But you still want to take it slow?"
"We've been married for three months, Pen." His voice comes out strangled. "We have time. And your parents are down the hall."
"They won't hear us. They're far enough away."
He shakes his head. "Not like this."
"But I want it," I fake whine.
I roll my hips again. His hands grab the hills of my hips, my thighs, and cling.
"Good Lord, woman. Do not use that tone."
"But I waaant iiiit." I make it sound even worse.
His eyes shut close. "If you keep that up, I'll lose my hard-on, and you won't get it no matter what you try."
I move back and forth. "Somehow I doubt it, but fine. I'll stop whining."
"You don't have to stop all the whining, just so you know. If I'm touching you and you end up whining despite yourself, that's a wholly different issue. If it just— escapes— softly— Hmmm."
The last sound is a deep groan. With my hands on his chest, I feel it reverberate.
I make circles on him. I want more of that sound. "So what do I have to do to make you go faster than this glacial pace of yours? Respectfully. You said you'd help me with the list."
"Isn't this enough risk for you? Having your parents hear us?" He guides my hips to move back and forth on him.
It puts friction on my clit, and I find a good rhythm for us. My breathing quickens, while a deep wrinkle appears on his brow.
"It's not the kind of risk I was thinking of," I manage. "You know that. And there's no reason for them to come to this part of the hall. They're closer to the stairs than we are."
I sound breathless. He sounds like he's straining. It's music to my ears.
"Good… fuck," he utters.
"So we're going to fuck?"
He groans through clenched teeth. "Not yet. Pen. God— you— No. I have a plan. We'll get there, I promise."
"When?"
"You'll see."
"And now? Should I keep doing this until I make you come in your underwear?"
"Tempting, but no." He sits up and surrounds me with his arms. "I still want you to sit on my face. Now, what you choose to do with your mouth I can leave up to your imagination."
He kisses me. I let him distract us for a second, before I pull back and scurry down his legs.
"Is that right?" I ask.
He falls back to rest on his elbows. His tattoos have never looked this good, partially covered by a worn white shirt.
His dark eyes, beard, and even that scar on his lip— they give him that threatening look I used to see on him.
But the past and present have blended in my mind, and my memories are rewriting themselves.
Now I think of him always looking at me with this kind of desire written on his face.
It makes me feel like I've swallowed matches, and they're igniting inside. Twenty little flames, putting fire to all this incendiary material in me. It had been so dormant I didn't know it was there. Now it's all I can feel.
"Should I ask you about your fantasies?" I say, before I close my lips on him, tasting cotton.
He hisses. "This one's pretty good."
"Is that right?" I rub my lips up and down his shaft.
I smile when he curses, but I don't stop the motion.
"You know," he says, "you could keep doing that while sitting on my face."
I snap my eyes at him. "Did you know I've never sixty-nined with anyone?"
"The men you've slept with deserve to be punished," he growls.
"Is that my best friend talking?" I ask.
Without breaking eye contact, I pull his underwear down, only enough to reveal his glorious erection.
"Did you lick your lip on purpose, Penélope?"
I didn't realize that's what I did, but I believe him. I'm salivating. An absolutely appropriate response from my brain, considering I'm about to put as much of it as I can in my mouth.
It's not something I'm all that great at, but I'm going to try. Fuck, I want to try. I want him to feel as needy as I have felt of late.
"My question first." I grab his shaft in my hand. "Who's calling out for punishment? My friend…"
I pump once, then I close my lips on the tip.
"Fuck." He falls back onto the bed.
I lick him. "Or my husband?"
"Both." He sits up again and reaches with a firm hand on my neck. "I'm both. Now come up here and make a mess in my beard."
He pulls me until I'm kissing him. A new box of matches bursts into flames inside of me.
"Got it?" He adds with a severe angle to his brow.
I nod and drop back to the mattress. I get rid of my underwear and I try for my sports bra, but Leon stops me.
"We'll deal with that later." He pulls me to him.
He maneuvers me with decisive hands. My knees land next to his neck, close to his shoulders, and my hands by his hips.
I'm breathing hard, nervous all of a sudden. "I'm not good at sucking cock. Will you guide me—"
He lets out a dark chuckle. "I'll sue them for everything they're worth, for making you think that."
Next thing I know, he grabs my thighs and parts my lips with his tongue.
"Holy shit." My hips buckle.
"That's right." He sucks at my clit. "I want my face soaked by the end of this."
I gasp. It shouldn't come as a shock that the controlled, stern man I've known for so long can be direct in bed, too. What surprises me more is how much I like it.
I grab his cock and suck on the head, trying to echo what he's doing to me.
"Ride my tongue, Pen." He licks me. Teases my entrance with his nose.
I roll my hips… and my tongue on his cock.
"Fuck. Like that," he moans.
And we say nothing else, as we use our mouths on each other until we're spent.
By the time we're in the shower together, I don't question it when we stand naked, doing nothing but hugging each other under the two sprays.
It's one of those times when I can't name what I feel, except to call it perfect.
It's the same kind of emotion I felt when Bear called our friendship perfect.
There's nothing I would change.
"I like it when you just hold me, too," I whisper against his chest.
In Chile there's a desert known for being the driest on earth. Every few years, when rain finally falls on the Atacama sands, a miracle happens. Delicate flowers spring everywhere, carpeting in pink and purple what once were arid plains.
It doesn't last long. Only a few weeks later, all that is left are seeds lost in parched soil, hoping one day rain will return.
Five years ago, I gave up on waiting for a storm that would change the territory. Now I'm in Bear's arms, and I think the Atacama flowers got it right. A gentle rain can bring something beautiful too, if I only accept it won't last.
"Just hold me for a little longer," I say.
I need my skin to drink him in. I want this feeling to stay in a little corner of me forever, so I can look back on it and know I didn't only get heartbreak in life. I also got a friend who will hug me and make me feel safe enough to do things I've never done. A flowering desert in my soul.
He brings me closer. "I'll hold you as long as you need."
We still have some time.