20. Stephen
20
STEPHEN
A handful of minutes and one drive down McKenna Mountain and through town later, I kill the headlights on my truck before turning down my parent's street. I park on the road two houses down and snag the bag I packed from the backseat before hopping out and opening the passenger side door for her.
"Stephen," she starts, but I hold a finger up to my lips and she stops herself. She snaps her lips together, but it doesn't stop the smile from sneaking across her face as I take her hand and start to bolt across my parent's yard. We round the house on quick feet, zipping across the backyard to the tree line. I don't know the last time I crossed this path, but muscle memory serves me well as I remember exactly when to duck under branches and hold brush out of Dorothea's way as she follows behind me. We hit the clearing, right into the open field. Even though it's December, some heartier wildflowers that survive through the rough season linger, accented by witch-hazel shrubs that bloom in the winter. She gasps, dropping my hand and bringing both of hers up to cover her mouth.
"Oh my god," she gasps, "It's exactly how I remember it."
Nostalgia burns hot and wild in my chest as I watch her take a few steps, turning in circles as she stares out at our simple field like it's the eighth wonder of the world. I busy myself with the bag, pulling out blankets and laying them on the ground. She turns back to me, and in the light of the moon, I can see her eyes brimming with tears.
"Sweetheart," I start, unsure if she's upset or just overcome with emotion. Maybe bringing her here tonight wasn't the right thing to do, but it's something I've dreamt about for so long. My thoughts are cut off when she leaps into my arms. I stagger back, caught off guard, but I get my footing and grab her just as she wraps her legs around my waist. Her lips crash into mine, and this time there is no hesitation, no fumbling, no wondering.
She kisses me breathless, robbing my lungs of air as she devours my lips. She nips and sucks and sinks her hands into my hair and all the while, I'm just trying to catch up to her ferocity. Her tongue swipes at the seam of my lips and I groan lasciviously, opening up to her and allowing her to continue to take what she wants from me. I let her lead, stunned into submission at the feel of her in my arms, her heat wrapped around me, her soft mewls as we kiss.
She pulls away first, gasping for air and pressing her forehead to mine. My body is coiled tight, my heart pounding in my chest. My arms begin to ache, not from the weight of her but because my limbs have started to loosen like melting butter. My head spins, and when I speak, my words practically slur out of my mouth like I'm three sheets to the wind on her kiss and her kiss alone.
"I thought maybe you'd want to look for Mercury with me."
She grins and nods her head as she unwinds her legs and drops to the blankets. She plops down and stretches her legs out, patting the spot next to her. I sit, then reach into my bag and yank out yet another blanket and drape it over our legs.
"C'mere, sweetheart," I say as I tug her to my side and lie back. She nuzzles into my chest and straddles her thigh across my legs. I'm painfully hard from her kiss, and the promise of her skin just inches from my cock sends another wave of lust down my spine.
"Can you even see Mercury tonight? I’m usually up to date on that kind of stuff," she says as she starts to run her fingertips up and down my chest.
"I have no idea. I just wanted an excuse to lay down with you," I smirk.
"Stephen, if you wanted an excuse to lay down with me, you should have said that your hands were cold, and I would have laid back and offered to let you put them under my shirt to keep them warm," she snickers, dragging a nail down my sternum, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
I consider that for a moment.
"Any chance that option is still on the table?" I joke, but she leans up. She hovers over me, pinches my chin, and brings my eyes to hers.
"Stephen, baby, it's all on the table," she whispers, then drops her eyes to my lips.
Jesus fucking hell. My cock throbs in my pants, confined and tight even with the forgiving cotton joggers. She hitches her leg higher and brushes against the ridge of my erection, and any control I've been holding onto for the past nine years snaps.
I sit up, stealing her lips as I flip her on her back. I fuss with the blankets as I crawl over her, arranging them so we're shielded from the cold air. I take and take from her lips. Our tongues tangle like a freestyle dance that we somehow know every step to. I drop my hips to hers and drag my erection over her center. She parts her legs, giving me room to drop in between them. I push against her, seeking and creating friction between our hips. She whimpers and bites my lip, rocking up in time with my thrusts, fucking me through our clothes. I drag my lips off her mouth to her jaw, kissing and nibbling my way down to the hollow of her throat. My hand skates around the hem of her shirt, teasing the bare plane of skin.
"Please," she whines, arching up into me. I slide my hand further up her belly to the underside of her breast. She's not wearing a bra, and I have to count from ten in my head to calm myself down. It's been far too long since I've felt the weight of her tits in my palms, and I'm risking a mess in my pants if I make any sudden movements.
When I get to zero, I slowly slide my hand up and cup her breast – the right one, funnily enough. I give her a light squeeze as I brush my thumb over her nipple. Her pants turn into gasps as I circle the pointed tip, then pinch. Not hard, but enough to earn a deliciously obscene groan from low in her throat.
"Stephen," she moans.
"Dorothea," I murmur as I lower my lips and suck her nipple into my mouth through the cotton of her t-shirt. Her sounds are a symphony of carnal pleasure as I flick my tongue against the hard little diamond. Her hands cradle my head, and she pushes me down, smothering me against her glorious, plump tits. I turn my attention to her left breast and give it the same treatment. A pinch, a suck, a nibble. I toe the line between pain and pleasure while my own need continues to build.
"Sweetheart, when you say it's all on the table, is there any chance that includes things we might not have done before?"
She wiggles underneath me, pressing her center into my thigh as she tries to guide my mouth back to her nipples. I happily oblige, dragging my teeth over one before bringing the bud back into my mouth and flicking my tongue against it .
"It depends," she breathes. "What exactly do you want to do?"
I let go her nipple with a wet pop, then drag my lips back up her neck and to her ear.
"I am fucking desperate to taste you, Dorothea."