Chapter 13 #2
“No need to thank me. It’s your bed. Besides, I couldn’t let you sleep on that couch knowing you’re traveling tomorrow and won’t be back in your bed for at least a week. It just didn’t feel right. And also, it’s not like we haven’t done this before…”
Like earlier, his eyes darken again, but this time it’s for a completely different reason. I wonder if he’s slipping right back in time to our night together. I know I am. It’s something I do often, as if that night is embedded in my memory.
But he doesn’t say anything, just rolls over and flips off the bedside lamp.
I do the same, and we’re bathed in dark.
Though this bed is huge, it suddenly feels so small.
I can feel the heat radiating off him, and part of me wants to move closer to that warmth.
I don’t, though. I just lie there with my eyes closed, forcing myself to breathe evenly so I can fall asleep, and it can be morning, and I can be safe in the light of day.
Eventually, it works, and I’m nearly asleep when he speaks again.
“Nessa?”
“Yeah?”
“What happened that night?”
I squeeze my eyes shut even tighter. I’ve been waiting for him to ask this since the moment I came to town. And why wouldn’t he? Of course he wants to know why I left him after an earth-shattering night.
“Why did you leave?” he continues. “Why did you run?”
“Because I was scared,” I whisper.
“Of what?”
“You, Gavin. I was scared of you.”
Six months ago, New York City
Gavin stares down at me with lust-filled eyes.
“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice hoarse.
I nod. “I’m sure.”
It’s all he needs before he’s kissing me again. Hard.
I don’t even mind. I want it like this. I want him like this, unbridled and raw.
I want everything he’s willing to give me, because I need this.
Not just to put Neal and everything he did to me behind me, but I need it for me.
I need to feel alive again, whole. I can’t remember what it’s like, and I’m desperate for it. I think Gavin can give it to me.
Suddenly, he pulls away, and I whimper at the loss. He chuckles darkly, then kisses my throat again. Then lower, over the swell of my breasts, and I want to feel him there. I want to feel him everywhere. Bare. Nothing between us.
He continues kissing lower and lower, and it takes me a moment to realize he’s pushing my dress up as he goes. His lips touch the top of my thigh, and I gasp. He laughs against me.
“Easy, love,” he says. “I’m getting there.”
He kisses me again, this time closer to right where I want him. Then again. And again. He does it until every inch of my thigh has been touched and I’m squirming against him with want.
Finally, I feel his lips brush against my center, and I cry out. That’s how fucking desperate I am at this point. His lips graze me through my underwear, and I’m howling like a damn cat in heat. I’m pathetic.
Another rumble of laughter.
“Gavin,” I say through gritted teeth, looking down at him.
“Nessa,” he taunts back, and I want to wipe that smirk off his face.
“I’m…I’m dying here.”
“Oh, are you?”
“Yes!”
I watch as he leans forward, pressing his lips to me again, and I want to scream. It feels so good, yet it’s not even close to enough. I growl, and he laughs.
“I think I like you like this,” he says. “So ready. So needy.”
“Yes, I am needy. And right now, I need your mouth on me.”
“Like this?” he asks before pressing his lips to my inner thigh once again.
I squirm, and he gives me yet another deep laugh.
Then another kiss. And we start the process over again.
On some level, I’m loving this, the teasing, the playfulness.
But there’s another part of me—a huge part at that—who hates every single second.
I’m too damn eager to love it more. I close my eyes, lying there, hoping and praying he’ll give me some relief.
He must hear each request because he does.
I’ve been so focused on the kisses to my thighs I didn’t even notice him pulling my panties to the side, but when he finally drags his tongue against me, he’s dragging it against all of me.
I buck off the bed, and Gavin grabs my hips, holding me steady as he continues to lash his tongue against me.
Each touch is gentle yet firm, relentless yet flitting.
It’s so confusing yet so fucking good that I’m moments away from coming all over his face, even though he’s barely touched me at all.
“Oh, god,” I say through a moan. “Please. I need more. I need…”
Without me having to say another word, he sets my leg over his shoulder and slips a finger into me. I groan.
It’s perfect. He’s perfect.
He pumps into me, matching the rhythm of his tongue. My legs begin to shake, and though I try to hold off my orgasm to make this last as long as possible, I can’t. My back arches off the bed, wave after wave hitting me. I feel it everywhere , my whole body coming alive in a way it never has before.
Gavin doesn’t relent, though. He licks me through every second of the pleasure, flicking his tongue against me harder and faster until I can’t breathe. I’m literally frozen there, all the air in my lungs trapped, my head thrown back in pure bliss.
Then suddenly my second orgasm fires through me unexpectedly, and I gasp for air, my body shaking erratically as I gulp in breath after breath.
Only then does Gavin give me a break. His touch becomes softer and slower, and my quakes become less intense.
He pulls away with one last kiss, then sets my panties back in place.
Honestly, I had forgotten I was even still wearing them.
Hell, I’m still wearing all my clothes, yet I’ve never felt so damn naked in my life.
He rises to his feet, staring down at me with wet lips and a wicked grin, and I could almost come again just from the proud gleam in his eyes. He reaches for his belt, the sound of the metal clinking loud in the otherwise quiet room, and all it does is drive me forward.
I scramble off the bed until I’m standing just in front of him.
I lift up on my tiptoes, placing a soft kiss against his lips before dropping to my knees before him.
I push his hands out of the way to finish the job he started.
I’ve never been too fond of giving blow jobs before, but something about Gavin has my mouth practically salivating at the idea of feeling his weight on my tongue.
Buckle undone, I unsnap the button, then pull his zipper down. Just as I’m about to reach into his dark boxer briefs, he backs away. I look up at him, puzzled, but he just backs away again. It takes another step and a flick of his wrist for me to understand what it is he wants.
He wants me to crawl.
And for some reason, I do.
I drop to my hands, following every step he takes, and fuck, it’s so damn degrading, but I like it, and I can’t believe I do. I don’t even care about the scrape on my knee and how the carpet is biting into it. All I care about is getting to him so I can touch him.
Gavin is already in the chair across the room as I’m taking the last few strides toward him.
He looks so good like this, like he’s sitting up on a throne and I’m just a lowly peasant, begging for any scraps he’ll give me.
In this instance, though? I’m happy to beg. That’s how badly I want him right now.
When I settle between his spread thighs, he grabs my chin in his hand, tilting my head up to look at him.
“Take my cock out, Nessa.”
I don’t hesitate for a moment to follow his instructions, reaching into his boxer briefs and pulling him free.
Holy hell, he’s beautiful. Thick and long but not overwhelmingly so.
Cut and heavy with just a bit of precum leaking from the tip, like he’s as ready for this as I am.
Unable to stop myself, I lean forward, dragging my tongue over the drop that’s taunting me.
Gavin hisses. “Don’t tease. Suck.”
It’s all the permission I need, and I pull him into my mouth.
Warm. That’s what he is. And soft. Heady. Perfect .
I swirl my tongue around the head, giving extra attention to the underside, before sucking him down more. I do this over and over, sucking on him before pulling back and teasing his tip again.
“Fuck, you’re pretty like this, love,” he says, his fingers cascading through my hair. His touch is so gentle and sweet, and though I like it, I want more. “On your knees and taking my cock like a needy little thing. Sucking me down like you can’t get enough. You can’t, can you?”
I shake my head the best I can, pulling him deeper and swallowing.
“Jesus,” he mutters. “You keep doing that, and I’m going to spill down your throat.”
His words have me moaning, the thought of him doing so making my pussy throb. I don’t understand how I can be so turned on still after coming twice already, but I am. If I were to put my hand between my legs, I would go off in seconds.
“Is that what you want?” he asks, his voice deeper now, like he’s barely hanging on, too. “You want me to coat that pretty throat of yours with my cum?”
I nod, and he tightens his grip on my hair.
“I’m going to fuck your mouth now, Nessa, you understand?”
Another nod.
“If you want me to stop, pinch my leg.”
It’s all he says before he drives his hips forward. I gag at the intrusion, but I don’t dare beg for respite. I like this. I want this.
He holds himself there for a moment as I struggle to breathe around him, then he backs off. His hand is still in my hair, rubbing at me softly. He does it again and again, holding me down longer each time until tears are welling in my eyes and I’m not sure if I can take much more.
“Last chance to stop, love,” he warns.