Chapter 24 #2
I let her stay on top, letting her lead, matching her pace because she needed that control after it had been taken away from her with a decision I’d made in haste. She tasted of mints and lipstick, her skin soft under layers of clothing that March still demanded.
I peeled them off one by one, flinging the fitted jumper she’d worn over the side of the bed, followed by a vest, leaving her wearing a bra that made my mouth water.
It was green, the colour reminding me of a forest, silk at the bottom and lace above, offering a teasing glimpse of her nipples.
If I hadn’t been hard already, I was now.
I held her hips, shifting my hands to the front of her trousers and undoing the button there, pushing the zip down.
Being a surgeon had taught me patience, taught me that the quickest way of doing things wasn’t always the best. I pushed away the teenage boy enthusiasm for having a gorgeous semi-naked woman on his lap and found that control, the precision.
“You’re fucking stunning.” I whispered the words, not wanting to fracture the way the room was holding its breath. “I can’t believe how gorgeous you are.”
She smiled, as if she knew that already. “I like nice underwear.”
“So do I, when it’s on you.” I toyed with the bra straps, bending my head to press my mouth against the swell of her breasts, pushing down her trousers over her hips.
With a bit of awkward manoeuvring, her trousers were lost to the thick carpet, and I found that my sweater and T-shirt were gone too, her hands trailing over my arms and then my chest
I lay back on the bed, giving her space to explore while I took in the sight of her underwear and the skin that it left exposed, the way her legs spread so she could straddle me, the sight of her nipples through the lace.
She leaned over me, taking a kiss although I would have given her all of them, then trailed her mouth over my chest, down to my stomach, undoing my belt and then pushing down my trousers and underwear, exposing my erection.
She took me in her mouth and the teenage boy was almost resurrected.
I grasped the covers with one hand, and rested the other on the back of her head, no pressure, just slowing her down.
“I want to come inside you.”
She let me go, her hand clasping my cock which was completely confused at my decision.
“I’ll bear that in mind.” She continued, as was her will, and I entangled my fingers in her hair, my eyes fixed on what she was doing until I got to the point of no return.
“You’re wearing too many clothes.” I lifted her off onto her back and undid her bra, a front fastener which was easy to cope with.
Her breasts were exposed for me to view and touch, my fingers skimming over them, brushing over her nipples and seeing them harden, hearing her make the most delicious soft moans as I toyed with them.
I took one in my mouth, swirling my tongue around her nipple, a hand shifting south to push under the fragile material of her underwear finding her soaked between her legs.
I pressed a finger inside her, feeling her tightness, feeling her quiver.
Slowly, I moved it in and out, fingering her, adding another digit, sucking on her tightened nipple.
She came hard, her body convulsing on top of the sheets, and I watched, proud of myself, lost in the glory of her. I wanted to do this every day, make her lose her mind, have this connection with her than no one else was allowed.
Her orgasm subsided. I pulled her underwear down her legs, losing it to the carpet and the wardrobe of clothes down there already, and I hovered over her, my cock at the entrance to her pussy, her legs parted to make room for me, one leg moving around my back, hooking me closer to her.
“So any ideas what you want to do this afternoon?” I braced myself over here, holding back what I really wanted to do.
She laughed, moving under me. “This. Maybe a couple of times, at least. If you’re capable.”
“Oh, I’m capable.” I kissed her, pushing inside her as I deepened the kiss, feeling her tighten around me, almost losing my mind.
It wasn’t slow and easy, the pace increasing as she fought me for dominance, switching us over so she was on top and I was on my back, watching her breasts bounce as she fucked me, her hair wild as she moved.
I held it together, bringing her to orgasm with a shudder that had her boneless for a moment, and then I was back in control, her legs bunched around my hips as I finished inside her, feeling her nails dig in my back and her ripple of pleasure around my cock as I came, her name on my lips, other words saved for later.
I collapsed partially on top of her, my cock softening, inside her still. My heart rate slowed and I focused on her breath calming down, her cheeks and chest flushed, her nipples still hard. Another kiss, one that lingered, slow and messy.
“I’m not sure this is good for my heart.” She put a hand against my chest. “I’m also not sure I can remember my name.”
I smiled at her, pleased with myself, with her. “I did my job then.”
“You pulled out all the stops. We’re really going to mess these sheets up.” She shifted herself so my cock left her body. I couldn’t help myself, finding the strength to lift myself up so I could see what I’d left between her legs.
“You’re a caveman.” She shifted, allowing me a better view.
I ran my eyes over her body, freshly fucked, relaxed, sated.
“I’m not sure what the problem is.”
“There isn’t one.” She leaned up, kissing me, bringing me back down close. “I could get used to this.”
“That’s the idea. My plan is to get you addicted to my cock.” I pulled the duvet over us, not noticing the thread count of the sheets or how soft they were, because all I could concentrate on was her.
“It might take a few goes.” She wrapped herself around me, although she wasn’t relaxed. “I need to clean up.”
“We could have a bath.” It seemed wrong not to use all the facilities. “I could let you wash my back.”
“Hmmm.” Her body pushed against mine. “There’s a tax for that. Back washing. I’ll want payment.”
“What do you charge?”
“I’ll have to decide. It’s a big decision.”
We bathed in one of the biggest baths I’d ever seen, which led to my discovering that Rose really was flexible, me taking her from behind over the back of the sofa in the lounge.
Both exhausted, and me definitely needing time to recover, we headed down to one of the bars for some lunch, my hand continually searching for hers, her foot knocking against mine, the early throws of what I knew was falling in love.
It was like releasing a genie from a bottle, knowing that I could love her like this now, after all this time.
We sat at a small table with a view outside, her hair tied up on top of her head, exposing the length of her neck where my lips had been before.
“Maybe we could plan a night away in London every month.” She looked around the room. “Do you think people can tell what we’ve just spent the last three hours doing?”
“You’re the psychologist.” I pointed to a bottle of champagne on the menu for the sake of the waiter, not wanting him to linger and overhear Rose’s musings.
“Some might speculate, but most will be too caught up in their own dramas to pay any attention. Have you ordered?” She watched the waiter head off.
“Champagne.”
“Oh.” Her expression was teasing. “What are we celebrating?”
“Us. Unless you want to keep things on the low down still.” I would do whatever she wanted, but I would prefer not to keep this a secret.
“I think we let people find out. Half of them will be expecting it anyway. I doubt my dad will be surprised if he was warning you when I was sixteen.” She grinned, shaking her head. “I never expected him to be that insightful.”
“I think he’s more insightful than he’s given credit for.”
“Don’t start being his biggest fan now. He’ll only maim you if you hurt me.” The threat was still there. “And if you do that, it’s Fallon you need to be afraid of. She’s the scary one.”
We ordered food and drank champagne, talking about everything and nothing, decisions made to let people find out that we were together, and yes, it was serious, because how could it not be after all this time?
We wouldn’t have risked years of friendship for something that would be over before the sheets could be changed.
That day and night at The Ritz changed everything.
It was thirty-six hours without distraction, just the two of us losing ourselves in each other and finding out who we could be.
We left the following day and headed back to mine, dropping off our bags before walking around Borough and Southwark, looking at apartments that were for sale, because she’d made up her mind that with Harriet in Stratford, she definitely wanted to be closer to the rest of us.
As tempting as it was, moving in together now would be too soon.
She stayed at mine that night, making the most of another big bed and sheets that weren’t quite as high a thread count. The verse novel, The Final Year, that she’d lent me was in the bookcase outside the room and I caught her looking through it, still charmed by the poet’s signature at the front.
I expected her to take it back with her, wanting to add it back to her collection, but instead she filed in back in the bookcase, offering a critique on how I’d arranged my books.
“You’re not taking it home?” I asked, curious.
“Not this time. It can wait.”
I didn't ask what for, because I was pretty sure I knew. Some things could remain unsaid.