Chapter 22 #2
But still, I need to give her the option. I don’t know what the future holds for Nora and me, but something tells me I may never get the chance again to embrace this, so I should take it.
I stop at my door and turn to her.
“If you want to change your mind,” she says softly. “I understand.”
She takes my face in her hands, her bright sapphire gaze holding mine. And I think I’ve never been so sure in all my life of anything.
So I lean in and kiss her. “No,” I whisper. “I want this, Nora. I want you.” I kiss her again, softly as I open the door.
“I want you,” I tell her, needing her to understand the depth of those words.
I lead her into my room, and she follows without question. The varied Lego builds cast eerie shadows on the wall, and I’m suddenly strangely aware of all my anime memorabilia and builds and hockey merch.
My bedroom looks like a damn teenager’s, while I know Rush and Freddie have swanky, cool rooms that they would not be embarrassed to bring a girl into.
Like I am right now.
She must sense my embarrassment, because she kisses me softly, the feel of her lips driving out the momentary voice in my head.
I guide us to my bed, every step feeling heavier than the last until we’re both sitting on the edge.
I look at her amidst the low light of my room, taking in her red waves, her bright blue eyes. Her rosy cheeks.
I’ve always felt this connection to Nora, ever since Brett introduced her to us. I didn’t understand it then, and I’m not sure I understand it now, but I know one thing for sure. I understand that what I feel for Nora is something I don’t want to fight anymore.
So I lean in and kiss her with all that I have. She responds in tandem, falling back into my bed. I break away for a moment to steal a glance at her, and I tell her, “If I screw up, just tell me, okay?”
She reaches for my jaw, her fingers softly tracing lines there. When her blue eyes glisten, I see the truth in them.
“You won’t,” she says. “Because you’re perfect, just the way you are, Tommy.”
Her words give me the confidence I never knew I needed.
I kiss her again, positioning myself on top of her.
Her legs come up on both my sides, boxing me in.
She reaches her arms around me and holds me closer.
My hands travel down her sides, committing the feel of her curves to memory until I find the waistband of her leggings.
I grip them, gently tugging, knowing exactly what I want to do first.
I want to taste her.
I pull down her leggings as she lets me, and when I see her lacy underwear I have to fight the urge to moan. This…this is so much better in person, just as I knew it would be.
There’s a brief pause as I take in the sight of her for a moment, as I watch her stomach rise and fall with her breath. I trail my fingers over her stomach, over the sides of her hips, pulling the straps of her panties between my fingers.
I gently pull them down, freeing the soft smattering of red hair from their cage, and take a moment to just look and feel. Her coarse hair, her soft skin, her wet folds.
I suck in a breath because I know exactly what that means, and it gives me a sense of borrowed confidence. I look up at her from between her legs, at her fiery hair and rosy cheeks, her parted lips and I think this…
There is nothing better than this feeling. I’ve never felt so powerful in my damn life, on or off the field.
I slide my fingers through her lips first, feeling until I find her entrance. When I do, I slowly slide a finger in, and she lets out a moan, so I take that to be a good thing. I press in a little further, feeling the warmth, the wetness, and the texture of her insides.
It’s a weird feeling, but judging by the wetness blooming at my cockhead in my pants, I’d say it’s not a bad one. I absentmindedly adjust myself, because right now this isn’t about me. It’s about discovering what makes Nora Brighton tick. What excites her.
And that is what turns me on even more than the idea of fucking her.
I want to discover all her patterns and rhythms, want to build her from the ground up.
“You can add another,” she says carefully. “Two is good.”
I do as she asks, adding another finger and slowly building a rhythm. She sighs in relief.
Then I carefully flick my tongue out to lick her clit—which Zack told me is like the button that throws a woman into overdrive—just to see if what he says is true. I pull it between my teeth and lick.
“Oh my God, Tommy!” Her legs tense and I stop, worried I somehow did it wrong or that I hurt her.
“Are you okay?” I ask in panic.
She nods, her cheeks now flushed. “Very.” She sucks in a breath. “I just didn’t expect that…”
I look at her, acutely aware of my fingers in her tight warmth, of my strained cock in my jeans.
“Come here,” she says, and I think I must’ve really fucked up. “Take your jeans off,” she instructs.
I pull my fingers out of her, looking up at her for a moment before I do as she says. My fingers are wet. Glistening with her juice. I don’t fight the impulse to put both of my fingers in my mouth and lick them, and she groans.
The taste is…slightly sweet but not sugary. I can’t explain it, but it isn’t bad.
I like it.
I slowly unlatch my belt and take my pants off, and I remove my shirt as well, so I’m standing in nothing but my boxers.
“Take your boxers off,” she says, her gaze holding mine in challenge.
I’m aware that I’ve never been naked like this for a woman before, and the thought is both thrilling and terrifying. What if…
What if she doesn’t like what she sees? What if I’m not big enough, or what if she thinks my dick looks weird? What if she takes one look at me and—
“Or keep them on if you want, it’s up to you,” she says.
And that snaps me out of my anxiety. I slip them off, if only to feel the relief and let my dick bob free.
“Take off your sweater,” I say. “So we’re even.”
She smirks at me and does as I ask. She’s still wearing her bra, so we’re not even, but her breasts look too good in it for me to tell her to take it off.
She sits up and pats the bed. I follow without hesitation, sitting there naked, my dick leaking and hard as a damn rock as she reaches for me. I shudder at her touch, her thumb sliding through my precum.
I think if she keeps touching me, I’m going to come just like this, and that might be embarrassing.
I don’t want to come like that.
I push her hand off and shake my head. “No,” I say and she looks at me in question. “Not like that.”
Her gaze softens as she stops.
“You tell me, Tommy,” she says sweetly, leaning in to kiss me. “You tell me how you want to come and I’ll do it, okay?”
I nod, the borrowed confidence starting to waver, so I know if I want to ask, I need to do it now.
“In your m-mouth,” I say. “While I make you come in mine.”
She tenses, and I worry I’ve said the wrong thing.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. “Did I—”
“I um…” She looks away. “No, it’s not you, it’s just…I’ve never done that, because—”
I look at her in question. “Because what?”
“I mean—” She gestures to herself. “I could suffocate you.”
It takes me a minute to realize what she’s saying, and I raise my eyebrows.
“Suffocate me? You think you’re going to suffocate me because of your weight?”
She doesn’t look at me, and I know my answer. I grab her by the hips, pulling her toward me. I grip them with ferocity.
“Listen to me, Nora,” I implore. “You are not going to suffocate me.”
She looks at me with a mixture of fear, and dare I say love?
“And if you do…” I hold her gaze. “Fuck, if I die with my tongue buried in your pussy it’s the best way to go.”
She laughs, and it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.
I lean in and kiss her. “There’s a first time for everything, right?”
She relaxes in my hold and kisses me back. “There is,” she whispers as she pushes me back into the mattress.
I’m acutely aware of how I must look—lying here on my back, my cock bobbing freely. She slowly angles herself over my face, and I have to admit the view is amazing. She has such a perfect ass. Round and firm.
I grab it and squeeze it before I pull at her cheeks, gazing at her wet, pink folds. And then I feel her hand on my cock, gently stroking me.
“Tap if it’s too much…if you need to breathe,” she says cautiously. I don’t waste a second as I dive in with my tongue, pulling her back so I can get as close as I can.
The minute I slide my tongue in her hole, I groan. Damn, she tastes better like this. My brain goes into overdrive as I kiss, lick, and suck at every spot I can, including her clit, which feels weirdly bigger, almost swollen.
And then I feel her mouth on my cock, and I buck, nearly knocking her off.
“Oh my God,” I gasp, trying to catch my breath.
“Too much?” she asks.
My answer is driving my tongue back into her sweet pussy and squeezing her ass. She resumes her motions on me, and I know it’s not going to be long.
But I want her to come first.
“Stop,” I tell her. “I don’t want to come yet.”
She stops, letting my cock rest in her mouth, but she doesn’t move or suck, and the feel is maddening.
“I want you to come first,” I tell her. “Like this.” I run my fingers through her folds, teasing her swollen bud, her wet entrance. “Can I make you come like this?”
“Yes.”
I grin and take it as a challenge. I dive back into her, using both my fingers and my tongue as best I can until I establish a rhythm.
I note when she moans or stiffens, so I repeat those motions that elicit the response I want.
She grinds herself against my tongue, and I start to feel like I can’t breathe, but I don’t care. I keep going.