18. Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Eighteen
Thea
C ary’s hands grip my waist to lift me into his arms. I wrap my legs around his hips instinctively, my lips never leaving his. The moment he said Ripley’s name, I should have come clean about our fake relationship, but those aren’t the words that slipped from my lips. No, I told my ex-boyfriend—who thinks I’m cheating on my current “boyfriend”—that I might, maybe, possibly still be in love with him. I’m lucky he didn’t tell me I’m crazy and walk out the door. Instead, he pulled me into a searing kiss like he’d been waiting for me to say those exact words.
It was the best possible reaction and definitely gave me the confidence to be more vulnerable with him. I need to tell him that Ripley and I aren’t actually together though. I’m such a shit human being for letting him think I’m cheating.
Before my mind can spiral too much, he lays me down on the kitchen island. The cold granite brings a chill to my skin through my shirt as my back makes contact with it. Cary leans over me and angles his head to reach my ear. “I’ve been waiting eight fucking years to hear those words again, fuck .”
His lips reach the spot behind my ear, and, mixed with his words, it sends a shiver down my spine that has nothing to do with the cold counter under my overheated skin. He kisses his way back to my lips, leaving a hot trail from my ear to my chin. This kiss is different from the others. It’s desperate and hungry, but there’s a layer to it that’s more than just desire. It’s sensual in a way I haven’t felt since long before I even left Seattle. His tongue has barely breached the seam of my lips when he pulls away, and I whine at the separation.
“Thea…” he starts, his breathing already heavy. “I need to be inside you. I need to feel you wrapped around me again.” This is his way of asking permission, so I nod my head yes. I’m so far gone for this man I can’t form words right now. He gives me a soft kiss then pulls away once more to say, “I want to taste you again first. I want to feel your thighs tremble and clench around my head as you come. And I want your cum on my tongue while I fuck you senseless with my cock.” He smirks against my lips as he says his filthy words, knowing it’ll turn me on.
His lips travel down my neck and his hands push my shirt up and over my head to expose my chest. He kisses the swell of my breasts, making me arch my back then he reaches around to unclasp my bra. My nipples are hardened peaks seeking his attention as he throws the material to the floor to join my discarded shirt. He wastes no time bringing his lips to the buds, sucking gently, my moan filling the room.
“Fuck, baby, your body is so fucking perfect.” I reach down where his head is covering my breast and run my hands through the strands of his gorgeous hair. While he works one with his mouth, his fingers find the other, pinching my nipple to pleasurable pain that shoots straight to my clit. The sensation causes me to push his head away, further down, toward where I need him most.
He laughs and looks up at me, his chin resting on my navel. “Does my greedy girl want my mouth on her perfect cunt? Are you dying for me to fuck that beautiful pussy with my tongue?” I let out a moan in response, but he isn’t satisfied with that. He pulls one of my hands from his hair and brings my wrist to his lips, pressing a small kiss on the underside of it right where my Carina Cove tattoo is.
“I need your words, Lem. I need you to tell me you really want this because once I start this time, I won’t be able to stop until I’m coming inside you.” We’ve been toeing this line since the night of the charity event. We both knew it would come to this. We’ve always been ravenous for each other, pulled together like magnets. Even when we’d fight, we couldn’t keep our hands off of each other. This is different though. This is our first time after years apart. We aren’t the same people even though it seems the same love exists between us, a love that was never going to disappear.
“I want everything with you, Cary.” My voice comes out breathy, and my other hand pulls at his hair as I say it. I’ve never meant six words more. I don’t want to do this halfway. I don’t want to only have these few moments with him. I want everything. I’ve been too scared to admit that to myself or to him. This life with him, owning RED together, being wrapped in his arms again, it all feels so fucking right .
There’s a moment after my words hit the air between us where he’s just staring into my eyes, searching for something, but I don’t know what it is. Before I can attempt to question it, he’s placing my hand back in his hair with the other and focusing his attention on the fabric keeping him from my flesh. I wore jeans today. They’re one of my favorite pairs—black skinny jeans that hug my ass just right. He kisses my stomach before slowly undoing the button. The sound of my zipper being pulled down barely reaches my ears over the sound of “Next To You” by Ole 60 playing in the background.
I push myself up on my elbows as he pulls my jeans down my legs, leaving only my lace thong as a barrier between us. His predatory eyes meet mine as he loops his fingers into the thin material.
“Last chance to stop me.” God , I fucking love the husky tone his voice gets when he’s high on lust.
“Fuck me, Cary.” Those words undo him, all of his patience and uncertainty disappearing. My thong is suddenly on the floor, and he’s throwing one of my legs over his shoulder to spread me wider for him. It’s such a powerful feeling to see a man on his knees for you. My eyes roll into my head, and I lie flat on my back as his lips touch my pussy. I can’t help the unintelligible words and sounds that slip out of my mouth.
He circles my clit with his thumb as his tongue travels all the way down my slit, sucking as he goes. My thighs clench around his head, and the movement draws a moan from his lips that reverberates over my opening. He always got off on making me feel good. It makes me shudder.
“Goddamn, I love how you taste, baby. I’ll never get enough of you.” He continues licking me, circling my opening before he pushes his tongue into me, exactly the way I like it.
He thrusts in and out, groaning against me, still circling my clit with his thumb using an even pressure but faster now. “I want you to come on my tongue, Lemon. Then I’m going to fuck you so hard you come again on my cock.”
As he speaks, he reaches up with his free hand and pinches one of my nipples. My back arches again as he rolls the bud between his fingers a couple of times before grasping my breast in his palm and squeezing. I push his head further into me as my orgasm starts to crest. That’s one thing that hasn’t changed; Cary has always been able to bring me to climax with just his mouth.
I’m squirming with the impending pleasure. He’s pushing my thighs up now, his tongue pulsing deeper into me. It takes one more circle of my clit before I’m falling over the edge and screaming his name. Cary flattens his tongue against me as he captures my release in his mouth.
As I’m coming down, he stands up and pulls me off the counter. I slide down his body to plant my jelly-like legs back on the ground, and I’m reminded that he’s still fully clothed.
His lips find mine and, just like he promised, I can taste myself on his tongue. He’s always said I have a sweet, tangy flavor like a lemon tart. I can’t say I agree, but knowing he loves it so much always gave me a confidence about being eaten out that not all women seem to have.
My hands leave his shoulders to find the button on his pants so I can get us on a more even playing field. Cary laughs into my mouth as I struggle to unfasten his pants. “Need some help with that?” His voice is playful now, the tone more flirty than mocking, but it makes me roll my eyes anyway.
“Have I ever needed help before?” I shoot back at him, finally feeling the button loosen. I give him an I-told-you-so smile that he quickly captures with his lips. I push his pants down enough to release his cock. It quivers as I wrap my hand around it, running my thumb along his slit, feeling the pre-cum beading there, and causing him to moan low in his throat.
His hands glide down to my ass again, lifting me back onto the counter, my grip on him slipping as he does. A chill runs through me at the contact. He pushes his pants down the rest of the way and steps out of them, kicking them off to the side. His shirt comes off just as quickly, his lust-filled eyes never leaving mine. Our discarded clothes are scattered through the kitchen now.
“Lean back a little for me, baby.” I do as he says, leaning back on my elbows again. He strokes himself and smears the pre-cum all over the head of his dick. One of his hands comes up to my hip, squeezing gently. He lines himself up with my center, still holding his base, then slides inside me in one smooth motion. I’m wet enough from my orgasm that there’s no resistance.
We both groan as we get used to the feeling of being connected like this again. He hasn’t moved yet, but I feel his cock throb in anticipation.
“This perfect pussy was made for my cock. You fit me like a fucking glove, Lem.” Our bodies have always felt this way, like they were made for one another. Our hands fit together perfectly, we meld together so well that when we’re connected, it’s hard to tell where one begins and the other ends. I’m just the right height to fold into his body seamlessly. We feel like each other’s missing piece in every way. I’ve never met another person who fits me like I’m the lock, and he’s the key.
He pushes both his hands under my ass and lifts me off of the counter. My arms wind around his neck, and we both curse at the pleasure the movement sparks through us. His mouth is on my neck, biting then licking to take away the pain he caused. Cary walks us to the hallway leading to my room but turns to press my back against the wall instead of carrying me to the bed.
With his hips keeping me pinned to the wall—and his dick still inside me—he pulls my arms from his neck then pushes them up against the wall over my head. Our eyes meet for a moment, then he slides one hand back down my arm, the other one holding my wrists in place on the wall. I see the glint of darkness in his eyes telling me his next move.
He reaches my shoulder and gently grazes his fingers over my neck before closing his hand around it. My pussy clenches around him as his hand tightens just a bit.
“You still like being choked with a cock deep in your cunt?”
I can’t answer, so I nod my head yes as much as I can manage. His hand loosens again as he starts to thrust in and out of me. He feels so fucking perfect. I don’t know how I survived the last eight years wasting my time on bodies that weren’t his.
He slams his mouth against mine, tugging my bottom lip with his teeth, and sucking on it—hard. The sound of our bodies slapping together drowns out the music playing from the speaker. His forearm rests between my breasts, and every time they bounce from his thrusts, the hair from his arm brushes against me, peppering my skin in goosebumps.
Suddenly, both of his hands release me and are back on my ass, moving us toward the bedroom again. My arms wrap back around his neck as I try to grind down on his dick, seeking the friction.
This is the same house I grew up in, so he knows it as well as I do. Brooks was, surprisingly, kind enough to fix a lot of the outdated and broken things for me, but for the most part, everything is the same. The biggest difference, which I’m sure is the reason why he stops and looks at me with an unspoken question, is I’m no longer in the room he remembers. I moved into the primary bedroom about six months after I put my mom in Saint Stephen’s. It got real old not having an en suite bathroom.
“The one on the right,” I try to say nodding to the door, but it comes out as more of a whisper. Luckily, he hears me anyway. Once we’re at the threshold, he kicks the door open allowing us room to pass through. He clicks on the light, and I’m laid down on the bed. Cary pulls out of me, and I whimper in response. He looks down with a smile.
“Don’t worry, greedy girl. I’m not done with you. I just want to be able to run my hands all over your body while I get you ready to come on my cock.” More wetness pools at my core. I love it when he calls me his greedy girl.
He steps back, and I take in his beautiful body. I haven’t seen him fully naked in so long that the sight takes my breath away. He’s all hard muscle and tattoos, and I have to keep myself from drooling. The way his eyes feast on me, appreciating my body in return has me on fire for him.
I can see his tattoos now, specifically the one that travels up his neck and peeks through the collar of his shirts. The second I work out what it is, my breath hitches, and I sit up on my knees with my feet underneath me.
“Turn around,” I say, my eyes never leaving the spot that clearly connects to more on his back. Out of the corner of my eye, his face bunches up in confusion like he doesn’t understand the reason for my request. My eyes trail the space between the edge of his tattoo and his eyes, meeting his stare. He realizes then I’m seeking a memory inked in his skin.
He opens his mouth to speak, closes it, then opens it again. “Thea—”
“Please…” I cut him off, a hint of desperation I’m not proud of tinging my voice.
He turns slowly, and when the image comes together, my hand flies to my mouth. There’s a massive tree tattooed on his skin, the branches crawling up the length of his neck. My eyes frantically search for the tattoo I hope is connected and not covered up by the image that extends over the expanse of his back. I find it moments later, my hand tracing the shape of the lemon delicately hanging from one of the branches. Knowing he didn’t cover it up after all this time has my eyes welling. He turns around to face me, my hand falling down to the bed and his hand finding my left cheek to swipe away the tear as it falls.
I look back up at his face. “When I saw… I thought… I thought—fuck, I thought you covered it up. I thought you’d gotten rid of it—of me...” Another tear falls, another swipe of his thumb to catch it.
“Every memory I have of you is etched in my soul, Thea. There is no getting rid of you.”
I push up onto my knees so I can reach him, place my hands on each of his cheeks, and stare into the depths of his stormy ocean eyes before pressing my lips to his. His tongue seeks mine out, and we hungrily kiss for a long moment. His hands run up my sides, pebbling goosebumps in their wake. They stop right below my shoulders before he gives them a squeeze and gently pulls away.
“Lie flat on the bed, legs spread wide.” His voice is dripping with authority that makes me quiver.
“Yes, sir,” I say in a teasing tone, but he likes it. He likes it a lot. I know because his cock jumps making him wrap his hand around it, stroking up and down lazily. Watching him intently, I get into the position he demanded, pulling a pillow behind my head.
He crawls onto the bed, sitting on his knees in front of me and staring down at my pussy. “You’re glistening for me, baby,” he says appreciatively. The praise goes straight to my core, making my clit throb with need. He grabs right above my left ankle and jerks me closer to him. I yelp in surprise as my head slips from the pillow. He hooks my leg over his hip and thrusts into me all in the same movement, making my head spin. My body is pushed back with the force, my heavy breasts bouncing, and my hands brace behind me on the headboard.
His other hand pushes down some on my lower stomach as he thrusts harder into me, making me feel even fuller. The pressure is tantalizing, already building to another peak. As his hand moves further up my ribcage to my breast, he lowers his body to catch my lips with his. The kiss is deep and vulnerable. The tone of our night has changed from needing to fuck out of desperation to making love.
His kisses trail down from the side of my mouth, all the way down to my neck and reaching the swell of my breast. He kisses, and kisses, and kisses, then suddenly bites down on the tender flesh making me scream. My hands come down to his head, threading their way into his hair. He rolls my nipple in his fingers as he licks the spot he just hurt. Just when I think he’s done torturing me, his fingers are pinching my nipple again, making my whole body shiver.
Cary uses his body to push my thigh almost all the way to my stomach and swirls his other finger around my clit. I throw my head back with a moan as he grunts into my neck, his thrusts never losing their rhythm.
My climax builds with every circle he makes. I slide my hands down his back, scraping against his skin with my nails every time he thrusts into me. His hot skin welts under my grip, leaving my own marks on him.
His face is still tucked into my neck as he says, “You ready for me to fill you up with my cum, you greedy fucking girl?”
I let out a breathy, “Yes, fucking please,” while nodding my head.
He moans again then asks, “How close are you?” Cary has never been a selfish lover. He’s always more concerned about my pleasure, but when we’ve fucked, he always loved it when we came together. It was like stepping off the edge of a cliff and falling into the abyss hand-in-hand.
“I— fuck . Yes.” That’s all I can get out for him. Words always elude me when I’m in the midst of pleasure.
Cary lifts up, freeing my leg from my chest, then starts pounding into me relentlessly. His chest and abs are glistening with sweat, and seeing his muscles move gets me impossibly wetter. Within a few thrusts, my walls clench around him. His cock jerks inside of me letting me know we’re both standing on the edge.
His lips crash into mine like a wave cascading against the shore as we both jump off the cliff.
We’re sated, lying in bed side by side, panting in time together. Our hands have been intertwined since we both climaxed. The only sounds filling the room are our heavy breaths and the music still playing in the kitchen.
Or at least, those were the only sounds before my stomach growls, making us both burst into laughter.
“I suppose that’s fair considering we skipped dinner,” Cary laughs.
He brings our intertwined hands to his lips and places a small kiss on my knuckles. “The chicken’s probably ruined by now, but we still have pie,” he says with a hint of mischief on his face I can’t fully decipher.
I shake my head as I say, “You’re not eating pie off of me.” His shoulders bounce with his laugh, the sound bringing a smile to my face.
“That’s not what I was suggesting, but now that you’ve brought it up, I’m not against the idea.” He smirks down at me then kisses the corner of my mouth gently. As he pulls away, I glare at him, making him throw his free hand up in the air. “Fine, fine. We’ll eat the pie from plates like boring people.”
I try not to laugh at him—unsuccessfully. He bends down once more, kissing my cheek this time then gets off the bed. I watch as his gloriously naked body marked by my hands moves to the bathroom. I hear water running and then he’s back with a warm washcloth. With the utmost care, he spreads my legs and wipes up our combined release.
Tossing the washcloth back in the bathroom, he exits the room to grab our pie.
That ass.
It’s scary to be this happy. I have this dread in the pit of my stomach telling me it’s too good to be true. I keep pushing it down, but I know the second he leaves, it’ll hit me like a freight train. Pulling my bottom lip between my teeth, I bite down to distract myself from the impending doom I feel.
Luckily, Cary is walking back into the room with two pieces of pumpkin pie on paper plates in his hands, effectively stopping my errant thoughts. My mouth waters at the sight of it. And him. He’s still nude, and I can’t take my eyes off of his body. As he gets to the bed, he hands one of the plates to me, placing a fork beside the pie.
I dig in, bringing the bite to my mouth and moaning the moment the flavors hit my tongue. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cary staring at me. “What?” I mumbled around the pie still in my mouth.
“Should I be concerned that Old Man Abel’s pie is making you moan louder than my dick did?” He laughs, and my face turns to shock at his words as I swallow down the bite of pie.
“Old Man Abel? When did you see Old Man Abel?”
“The one and only. I ran into him at the farmer’s market. But that’s not even the best part.” He pauses, and I stare at him patiently waiting for him to continue. “He knew it was us,” he says nonchalantly as he lifts a bite of pie to his own lips.
“What was us…? Wait—how? He would have killed us if he knew. He literally told the whole town he’d put a bullet in the Berry Bandit when he found out who it was.”
Cary laughs, remembering the same thing. “Pretty sure that was before he found out it was just two kids in love.”
My cheeks heat, and I turn my gaze back to my pie. “You weren’t in love with me then. We were just kids.”
“Pretty sure I’ve been in love with you since the moment I met you, Thea.”
I’m not sure how to respond, and I’m scared if I try, it may involve tears so I shift us back to Old Man Abel. “So… what else did he say about it?”
He goes on to recount his run-in with the poor farmer we stole from as children as we eat our pie. Turns out, it’s the best fucking pumpkin pie I’ve ever tasted. It shouldn’t surprise me though, he always grew the best strawberries too.