Chapter 25
Nora
Theo turns off the shower and picks me up, which is helpful, because I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to stand after that orgasm. My legs are jelly, and I hardly know where I am.
Who I am.
I wind my legs around his waist and slump against him as he walks us through to the bedroom. Carefully, because we’re dripping wet. I slurp at his shoulder. So wet. So muscular. I want to sink my teeth into it.
What the hell just happened in that shower?
I’m reeling from the whole experience. It turns out the combination of Theo’s hotness, his dirty mouth, his skilful mouth, his handiness with a shower head, the water, and my stupid and now unfathomable decision not to act on my attraction to him till I was practically combusting wasn’t just intoxicating.
It was bloody lethal.
I cling to him like one of those floppy beanbag frog toys, but he’s clinging to me just as hard, and murmuring in my ear between licks at my neck and nibbles at my earlobe.
‘You’re amazing, sweetheart. Having you come on my mouth like that was un-fucking-real. On my fingers. God, I need to be inside you so badly. I want to fuck you so hard.’
He was right. I’m no longer worried about fitting him inside me. This guy could do anything to me right now. If my vaginal muscles have relaxed as much as every other muscle in my body—and by relaxed, I mean been rendered utterly useless—then he should have no problems gaining entry.
I’m moving backwards in space, and Theo’s bending over me, cradling my head, cupping my bum, as he lays my top half down on the bed, my legs hanging off the edge.
When I’m flat, he combs his fingers through my wet hair, coaxing it back off my face, and kisses me.
My arms are still wrapped around his neck as I kiss him back, our tongues seeking and tangling.
I can feel the hunger in the way his tongue probes.
This poor guy hasn’t come yet. I reach between us, and he shudders against me as I get a grip on his length.
‘Wait, sweetheart.’
And then he’s pulling away from me and heading back into the bathroom from where he emerges, triumphantly holding up a strip of condoms.
‘You came prepared,’ I slur from my spreadeagled position. I couldn’t move if I tried.
‘I’m an optimist.’ He rips one off the strip and holds up the little foil package. ‘You good with this?’
I meet his gaze. ‘Yep.’
He bites his lower lip. Shakes his head. ‘Fucking hell, sweetheart. I cannot wait for this.’
He grabs a pillow and hoists me up under my bum, stuffing the pillow under it. Cocks his head. Surveys me. Looks at his dick, and then back at me. Adds another pillow. His movements are hurried. Jerky. Like he can’t make them quickly enough.
Mmm. I like a man who preps (even if I’m now at a seriously weird angle).
I giggle. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m lining us up, you little beauty, so I can get a good angle and reach your clit and still see your gorgeous body all spread out for me.’
All right, then.
Theo fumbling to open a condom and then rolling one on as quickly as possible while huffing and gasping through the process of edging it up his huge and presumably very sensitive dick is immensely gratifying, until he grabs under my knees and pulls my legs up and rubs himself slickly against me, and the concept of gratification takes on a whole new meaning.
I arch my back and wrap my legs around him and take it, because even though I’m highly unlikely to have a second orgasm, I’ll take everything this man is offering right now.
Although, I’m not convinced about this position. It feels a little… distant. His face is miles away, and I won’t be able to kiss him when he’s inside me, and I’m a bit exposed, lying here like this, and—
Oh. My. God.
Theo feeds his first inch into me, and my interior monologue just stops.
In its place, intensity of the best kind as he starts to fill me up.
And that view. It’s even better than it was when he stood over me in the shower, because he’s putting his dick inside me and I have a front-row seat to the Theo Montague show.
That body.
Those abs, flexing as he pushes in carefully.
The place where his flesh is fusing with mine.
But best of all, the gorgeous, tortured, ecstatic expressions that flit across his face as he sucks his breath in through his teeth. I can tell he’s trying to go slow for me.
‘Relax, baby.’ He squeezes my bum cheeks. ‘Breathe.’
I smile at him and blow out my breath, willing my body to accommodate him because I want him so badly. And it does. I take him in, and I suspect the ecstasy and hope and disbelief I can see on his face is mirrored on my own.
Because we’re finally here.
Ten years after I turned down a night with him because the boy I kissed triggered every danger signal in my nervous system.
And just a few weeks after our paths crossed again, after we hatched some kind of fucked-up deal, and after—whether I want to admit it or not—the tension between us started to build into something so fierce and feral that I’ve been a total idiot to deny it.
Until now.
Theo feeds his last inch into me and rolls his hips as he bottoms out, and holy fuck.
I thought we wouldn’t fit, but we do.
This feeling is just the right side of overwhelm. My entire body is buzzing as it accommodates this man.
Not accommodates.
Welcomes.
‘Jesus, sweetheart.’ Theo’s brow creases and his eyes go even darker as he pulls out a few inches and slides back in.
Slowly—he doesn’t have much room to work with—but forcefully.
‘Look at you, spread out for me like that. You’re like a fucking feast. Look at my dick inside you.
Filling you up. Your pussy is so fucking tight, baby.
So tight, my balls are going to explode. ’
Okay. So he’s going for a double jab. A one-two. Hit me with his dick and finish me off with dirty talk.
I can do this. I can do this. Despite the cool water on my skin, it’s growing slick with sweat as I absorb the impact of him driving into me so decisively and the tricks his words are playing on my brain, which seems not to have got the I-just-had-an-earth-shattering-orgasm memo.
‘Do you think you can come again?’
‘I’m not sure,’ I pant. ‘I mean, not usually, but maybe—’
‘Wrong answer, gorgeous.’
He releases my bum and I stay in place, thanks to his expert-level pillow prep. His long, tanned fingers drag up over my hips, up my stomach, and he bends forward slightly to palm my boobs before running his fingertips over my nipples. Hard.
I buck.
‘You like that, sweetheart? Those pretty little nipples—you don’t know what they do to me. I want to suck them. Bite them. They’re so fucking delicious. I want to come all over them. So much. But not as much as I want to come inside this tight pussy.’
‘Oh my God, keep doing that,’ I beg.
My nipples were sensitive after I came, but they’re responding greedily to Theo’s compliments and ministrations.
I’m responding greedily.
I want him in my mouth.
I want him to come on my boobs and my stomach and show me how much he wants me.
But most of all, I want to lie here like this, spread out for him, watching as he pumps in and out of me, because he’s picking up speed and the intensity is beyond description.
He’s hitting internal parts of me that I’m pretty sure are unchartered territory.
He’s taken the lead, and honestly, I’m just along for the ride.
I get it now. The pillow thing. It’s not just to line us up.
It’s the angle. Not only is he massive, but he’s pressing against my front wall and the pressure, the ache, is building in a way that’s totally different from my usual orgasms. It’s a heat that’s spreading throughout my body, inside and out, rippling through my nervous system.
Theo moves his hands to my hips and picks up both his pace and his force with rhythmical thrusts that I’m powerless against. My hands scrabble on the sheet as the heat builds deep inside me, where he’s hitting me. Filling me up and turning me inside out.
Though he’s pumping me consistently, his face is showing signs of strain, his eyes fluttering, those gorgeous eyes pools of black, and his jaw tensing.
‘How’s that non-orgasm coming along?’ he grits out.
I open my mouth to answer and he seals his thumb to my clit, dragging it back and forth, and my it’s coming along nicely, thanks gets thrown out in favour of something unintelligible.
I gasp, and practically snort out my exhale, because the combined pressure of his thumb and the perfect thump-thump-thump as he rams balls-deep into me is like nothing I’ve felt before, ever.
All I can do is breathe and take it. Take the slams that are so fucking perfect I’m losing my mind. Take the relentless stimulation from his thumb. I’m vaguely aware that I’ve gone from gasping to moaning to whimpering, and that Theo’s facial expression suggests he’s happy with my reaction.
‘Give it to me.’ Thrust. ‘You look so fucking beautiful when you’re coming, baby.’ Thrust. ‘I can feel it. I can feel you. You’re close, you’re close—’
And bam, the heat that’s been shimmering through my body goes red hot, like an atom bomb radiating out from where his flesh is on and in mine.
My vision goes black and purple and orange and pink and red and I let rip a string of crap—I have no idea what I’m shouting.
Something about God and fuck and Theo and yes as my head lashes from side to side.
As those radiant waves course through my body, Theo’s thrusts slow before he swells and pulses and explodes, his fingers digging into my hips, his dick stretching me open any more. I summon all my possible ab strength to push against him. Into him.
‘Fuck!’ he yells. ‘Fuck. Oh my God. You’re—fuck. Yes, baby. Yes. Jesus.’
As he stills, his head drops forward with exhaustion and triumph and hopefully satisfaction, but he grins and looks at me through his eyelashes.
‘You little beauty. You amazing, sexy-as-fuck little beauty.’
‘That was incredible,’ I whisper, staring at him through the haze of cartoon stars and birds circling round my head right now.
My breath is ragged. I don’t know what the fuck just went down, and I’m pretty sure I can’t take credit for any of it.
All I did was just lie there and let Theo Montague dole out orgasms.
He waggles his finger at me. ‘Don’t move.’
I flinch as he eases himself out of me and trots into the bathroom. He’s back a minute later, pulling the pillows out from under my bum and dragging me up the bed to a dry patch.
I lie in the crook of his arm, my nose pressed to the hairs on his chest, which is exactly where it wants to be.
I need to pull some IQ points from somewhere.
I need to—focus. I struggle up onto one arm and gaze down at him.
At that face on the pillow. That lazy smile, the one that says I’m fucked (in the best way).
‘I should—um.’ I point in the direction of the main hotel. I’m sure there’s something I should be doing, but my brain isn’t playing ball.
‘Nice try, gorgeous.’ He pulls me down and into his arms, throwing a heavy, hairy leg over me for good measure. ‘Now we sleep. Then we go again.’
The outrageous concept of again whirrs around in my head as I lose consciousness, my face pressed between Theo’s pecs.