Chapter 20 Rush #2
“Yes,” I say, my voice dark and low. I close my eyes as I bring my forehead to hers, sucking in a breath. My cock twitches in my jeans as she pulls my body against her.
I know she can feel it. How hard she makes me. How badly I’m fighting this right now, because I know it’s wrong, and it’s right, and it’s confusing as all hell.
And I want to be good. For Nora.
I want to be the kind of man she deserves.
The one who will go above and beyond for her, who will protect her. I want to be the kind of man she’d want to build a future with.
I want to give her everything she deserves.
My hands slide down her neck, my thumbs pressing into the column of her throat as I look down at her.
The last time I did this, I was drunk and so was she. But now there’s nothing to blame. Both of us are stone-cold sober and there’s not a drop of alcohol in sight.
I kiss her, hard.
I don’t sugarcoat the desire I feel, because she deserves to feel it. To feel the heat she stirs in me, the madness she drives me to. I am at Nora Brighton’s mercy, and I want her to know how truly amazing and powerful she really is.
Part of me expects her to push me away. To tell me to fuck off, that she can’t do this right now or ever, and that would be fine. I’d understand that. Hell, it would make the most sense because I know I’m overstepping here.
But she doesn’t do any of those things.
She grabs my hips and pulls me closer, my aching cock pressing into her with renewed vigor and need, and she kisses me back.
The world around me stops, because this kiss certainly isn’t like the last. It’s a rush all on its own.
It’s a key, opening a lock I didn’t know existed between us until this very moment.
I fall back into the bed with her as she leans back, bringing her legs up on my sides.
Our bodies slide together, a tangle of limbs and tongues, as our mouths fight to mark every inch of available skin.
My cock aches as I grind against the bed, my hands sliding up beneath her sweater.
“He didn’t deserve this,” I whisper against her ear as I trail my hands over her stomach.
I gently tug at her sweater, and she lets me remove it, showing off those perfect round breasts in the same lacey bra I saw last night.
I let my hands trail over them, my fingers teasing the skin through the lace as I find her nipples.
I don’t even bother to pull her breasts out, because they look so perfect like this, hidden behind pale lace, her dark pink nipples stiff and poking through the fabric, begging to be touched. Praised.
I flick my tongue out and tease one, and she arches her back, gasping. I smirk and do it again.
“Russ…” she breathes, her legs tightening on my sides. I pull her lace-covered nipple in between my teeth as my hands work at her leggings. Her hands find my hair and she thrusts her breast against me, her body begging for more of my praise.
“He definitely didn’t deserve this,” I whisper as I suck hard against one nipple.
And then I stop. I take a moment to look at her, like this. Beneath me.
It’s not the first time I’ve had her in my arms, and I vow it won’t be the last. Because there’s no going back from here. Not now, not ever. Not for me.
Because I know as I gaze down at Nora Brighton, the woman I love, that there is nothing I wouldn’t do for her.
I place a soft kiss on her lips as I trail my mouth over her jaw, her neck, her shoulder. I outline her freckles with my tongue as I carefully remove her breasts from her cups, seeing how peaked and pert they are from her arousal.
“Look at you,” I say. “You are so perfect.”
I pull her nipples between my fingers and she gasps, my name escaping her lips again.
“Russ, please, I’m—”
“Not yet you’re not,” I tell her. “I haven’t even gotten started.”
She whines as I pull her nipple into my mouth and suck. Hard.
I massage her other breast, my fingers pinching and pulling as I continue to suck. If I’m not careful, I’m going to come in my pants.
Again.
This seems to be a thing with Nora and me.
I’d be lying if I said I hated it.
I grind against the bed involuntarily as I work to remove her leggings, and she lets me. Her hands reach for my shirt, and she tugs. I remove it quickly before diving back to kiss her, my tongue exploring hers with the utmost interest.
“Oh my God, Russ…”
I tear off her leggings. Her ankle gets caught, but I pull hard, tossing them across the room. I don’t know where they land, nor do I care, because all I can focus on is her. This moment.
“Tell me to stop,” I breathe as I kiss her neck.
“I don’t want you to stop,” she says. “Russ, I—”
I swallow her pleas with my mouth as I groan.
My cock hurts because I’m so hard and this isn’t the best position for me.
I absentmindedly adjust myself, and then I feel her hands settling on my waist. Her fingers carefully, skillfully unbutton my jeans.
I pull back to look at her, her eyes finding mine.
“Tell me again,” she whispers. “Tell me again what I deserve.”
Her hands slowly slide over the front of my briefs, and the minute I feel her hand on me through the fabric I groan.
I kiss her as I wriggle out of my jeans, leaving me in nothing but my skintight briefs. She starts to stroke me through the fabric, and I can’t help but thrust against her palm.
“Everything,” I whisper. “Everything you fucking want.”
“Including you?” she asks, her voice shaky. “Russell, do you think I deserve you?”
She pushes my briefs down over my ass, just enough to free my constrained dick. The relief as the air kisses my shaft is damn near euphoric on its own.
My fingers twist in the sides of her panties and I pull them down, my gaze holding hers solidly.
“No,” I say, my voice low and deep. “I think you deserve more, but…” I swallow hard. “I promise you, Eleanor, if you choose this…choose me, I will fight for this—” My throat tightens as my heartbeat races. “I will fight to be the man you deserve, like I fight for my place on the ice.”
Her hands slide over my ass, up my back, and I lean into her with ease. Her blue eyes are like the lights of a game—shining on everything and making it brighter than before.
I kiss her, taking her lips with that same promise. The world falls away as I get lost in her kiss. The feel of her pert nipples poking my chest. She slithers beneath me, shifting her weight, and I move in tandem, lining myself up without hesitation.
She thrusts herself up against me, her body asking mine for what I’ve longed for, for so long I can barely comprehend.
“Are you sure?” I ask, my voice a whisper.
She kisses me slowly. “I’m sure.”
“Do—” I swallow, needing to ask the question but not wanting to stop what’s happening.
But I need to know.
Given what I know, how I feel, if she says no…I’ll understand, but I won’t lie and say I’ll be okay. Because I realize now, here—my leaking cock poised against her entrance—how badly I want this.
How badly I want her. To be mine in every sense of the word.
“Do I need a condom?”
The words are heavy in the air between us, the uncertainty thick.
I know if she says yes, I’ll do it, no questions asked, and I’d understand. I wouldn’t even be mad or upset.
But there’s also a part of me that wants her to say no.
Not because I want to feel her perfect insides wrapped around my aching cock, but because I want everything that comes before and after sex with Nora.
I want to hold her in the morning before the sun rises, and I want to come home from practice to watch Netflix—really watch it—with her in my arms. I want to flirt with her and dance with her and kiss her until I can’t breathe.
And I want to give her what he couldn’t.
A life.
A baby.
Just the thought…of Nora, pregnant, belly round with my child, makes my damn cock weep. But it’s not just the thought of her body changing that has my heart in my throat.
It’s the memories of my own childhood. With my brothers. Playing and laughing and seeing my parents so happy because of us. Because they loved us so much and instilled that love in us.
I want to experience that.
I want to know what it’s like to love beyond measure, and I know Nora is the one who can show me that.
She swallows hard, and then she leans her forehead against mine and whispers, “No.”
No.
She doesn’t want me to use a condom.
Neither of us have to say a word, because we both know what this means.
And we both know there’s no going back.
But maybe that’s a good thing. Because all that’s in the past is heartache. Pain. Selfish desire and unfulfilled wishes and dreams.
And forward? Well…forward lies the victory, the sun, the stars.
“I’m on the pill,” she whispers. “Have been the last year, just in case.”
“Okay,” I whisper back as I kiss her softly. I grab her leg and hook it over my hip, guiding her back into the comforter and pillows. She shoves the suitcase aside with her hand, and some clothes get strewn about, but I don’t care.
She sinks her heel into my ass, and I’m aware that my briefs are welled up around my knees, just as hers give resistance around her calves.
“Show me,” she whispers against my mouth, her voice even and warm. “Show me what you think I deserve, Russell.”
I slide into her so easily, it’s like she was made for me.
“My pleasure, Eleanor,” I whisper as I kiss her slowly, savoring the taste of her on my tongue.
I feel everything. Her warm, soaked pussy pulsing around my aching cock. Her nails digging into my back. My racing heart and the familiar tightening in my balls, telling me I’m going to come.
Her gasps and moans pitch and I know she’s close too.
“Rush…” She grips my shoulders tight, and I feel her body tense. She gasps as I pull my hips back, my thrusts coming harder as I chase that victory.
Her pussy contracts around my cock as she moans out her ecstasy, and it’s enough to drive me over the edge. I come hard, my thrusts hitting harder as I fill her with my cum.
I pull my hips back only a fraction as she moans, watching my spend bubble up where we connect. I know I could stop here, and I should. But the sight of my cum glazing her precious pussy makes my brain feel funny, so I don’t stop.
I grab her legs and pull them up higher around my waist, and I thrust into her again.
Harder. Faster.
“Oh my God, Rush!” she cries out, her legs locking around me.
I pull out of her and turn her over, my body moving of its own accord.
I push apart her legs, finding her pussy pink and glazed, and I collect the remnants of my spend on my cockhead and push back inside her.
My cock throbs, and I know I’m not done.
And neither is she.
I wrap my arms around her, holding her close. One hand rests on her throat while the other finds her clit as I hold her against me, my thrusts stilling as another orgasm hits me out of nowhere. Nora’s pleasure echoes mine as her pussy starts to pulse around me while I fill her.
We fall to the bed, a sweaty, tangled mess. But I’ve never felt better. I hold her close, burying my face in her neck, in her hair.
“I love you,” I whisper in her ear.
She tenses in my arms.
Shit. Did I say that out loud?
I quickly add, “You don’t…you don’t have to say anything.”
Her body relaxes in my hold, and her hand finds mine where it rests over her belly. My cock starts to soften, but I make no move to pull out. I don’t want to. Her pussy is warm and wet, and it feels like home.
I know when I leave her, everything’s going to change. And maybe I just want to hold on to this a little longer.
“That’s what you deserve,” I whisper. “Love. Real love, not pretend.”
She looks at me over her pale shoulder, bright blue eyes as clear as I’ve ever seen them. My cock settles as I gaze into her eyes, and she traces her fingers along my lips.
“So do you, Russell. You deserve the world too.”
I smile, kissing her softly. “I already have the world, Nora. I have you. Here. Right now.”
Fuck me.
Dig my grave and bury me, because I know as Nora kisses me, that I’m a dead man walking.