Chapter 18 Robin #3
Despite wanting him to lower his shorts and push his thick length into me, I don’t want sex in a house which was meant to be my home with someone else. It may be my best friend's new dream, but Nightingale House isn't where I belong and it cannot keep memories I want to hold on to.
“How does that feel?” Wren asks, still staring so intensely down into my soul as he uses the pads of his fingers to rub circles on my clit.
He instantly finds the right spot and I become breathless, my throat constricting when he moves them lower along my slit and slips one finger straight into me.
He goes still as I get used to the feeling.
He pumps once, twice, and then adds another finger as the pace begins to quicken.
“It feels so good. S–so good,” I say, breathing heavily as I instinctively grind my hips into him and start to ride his hand.
My skin ignites once more and intensely my second orgasm starts to build.
He pulls them out of me so easily, allowing me to take control of grinding in his lap, but there's no doubt in my mind this pleasure is all due to the man under me.
I lean my lower body closer into him and feel the ridge of his strained cock, pressing the perfect amount of pressure against my clit.
Both sensations send me dizzy, as I ride against his pumping fingers and hear a groan so feral leave his lips before he crashes them back into mine.
We find the perfect rhythm, and his free hand roams over my entire body, up and down, like he’s unable to keep from touching every inch of me.
Wren keeps letting out these delicious, breathy moans against my lips, like he’s trying his hardest to remain in control of himself and keep to the pace I’ve set.
He grabs my waist painfully hard and I gasp, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over the spot.
Gripping my hip instead, he moves me faster against his cock, the feel of it through the fabric building the burning heat inside me to a height I’m scared to fall from.
I’ve never felt this level of pleasure before and I know the moment I let go for him, it’s going to destroy me.
I should be scared–I should fear how in days this man has connected pieces inside of me that I didn't know existed.
He's woven himself into them so they’ll never glow without his touch.
“That's my good fucking girl. You’re so wet, your needy pussy is strangling my fingers. Let go for me, Roo. You’re all mine.”
I’m done; falling into blissful annulation.
“Fucking mine.” He growls, pressing his face into the crook of my neck.
I come so hard I see stars.
I am shaking, shuddering as I ride out wave after wave of pleasure only known to surely exist in another galaxy. Is this what foreplay is meant to feel like? How is mankind not screaming from the rooftops about this euphoric feeling I’m experiencing right now?
My head has fallen back as I cling to Wren for dear life as I start to come down, his body tense and his arms taut around my body, making me feel safe in his hold.
He jerks and low groans rumble from his throat.
I lay my cheek against his curls and chuckle softly at how they adorably stick up everywhere.
Slowly, he stops moving his fingers in me and pulls them out, my body letting out a long sigh, and I nearly sag against him.
For the second time this evening, he led me into a satisfied sedation and I could fall asleep right here, covered in our mess.
After what feels like a lifetime of just embracing each other, I feel little kisses being placed on my shoulder, my neck, collarbone and the hand that wasn't just inside me brushes my hair from my face.
God, I bet I look in an utter state right now.
He plants a gentle kiss against my lips, but I can't find the energy to kiss him back, as my eyes struggle to remain open.
I use the last of it to muster a small smile.
“Best ride of my life.” I say and Wren lets out wolfish laughter. I can't help but smile wider, resting my head against his as my body urges for me to rest.
“You’re something else, do you know that, Baby?”
“You really love all these pet names.”
“With you, yes I really do.”
“Next you’ll be calling me Pumpkin or Princess." I tease, causing him to faux-flinch, which he then covers up with a shake of his head.
“Just you wait, you’ve opened the door to endless endearment. I’m going to come up with the most ridiculous pet names and call you them in public.”
I want to dramatically roll my eyes, but the gesture must not be a tenth of what I’d normally give him because he continues to laugh and squeezes me gently in his arms.
Lowering me slowly down onto the bed, he lays me on the left side and adjusts the pillows under my head.
I’m still fully naked, which only just dawns on me that he's now seen me bare.
My legs feel like jelly as I stare down at them entwined with his.
My light olive-toned skin is a contrast to his pale, tattooed body, but I love the way we look together.
Wren runs his fingertips down my cheeks and leans to kiss me.
“Wait here.” he whispers, continuing to stroke my cheek for a few moments more before he moves from the bed.
I watch as he pads over to the bathroom, shamelessly admiring the toned muscles in his back.
The sound of water draining drifts out, as well as shuffling and the sink taps being turned on.
He quickly comes out with a cloth, a dry towel, hairbrush, and a bottle of what looks like moisturizer.
I prop myself up on my elbows and simply watch him, slightly stunned as he runs the cloth up my thighs and across my centre, cleaning me so gently.
My brain sort of short circuits because no one has ever treated me this way and we didn't even have sex.
“What are you doing?” I ask sleepily.
That bright smile returns as he finishes his journey cleaning my skin. “Aftercare.”
He adjusts his sitting position a couple of times as if he’s uncomfortable; realisation flooding me that he never finished.
He focused solely on my pleasure. His head snaps up as I reach over and trace along his waistband, a smirk creeping onto his lips as he lets out a low chuckle.
Throwing the cloth onto the floor close to the bed, he moves closer to me and rests on his side as he takes both of my hands in his and places them on his chest, on the bat and stars that expand into more tattoos of foliage that flow down underneath his shorts.
A light flush burns at my cheeks at the slight rejection. “Do you not want me to touch you?” I raise my eyebrows a little, looking down at his crotch. He still looks firm.
Wren plants a soft kiss to my forehead, stroking hair from my face.
He looks pleased, which only confuses me more.
“Baby, you don't need to touch me. I just came so hard in my pants from you grinding on me, like a teenager. I should be embarrassed, really, but it was so fucking hot.” He laughs, pushing his face into my neck and I can't help but laugh too. I have the overwhelming thought that nothing could make this moment more perfect. I’ve never experienced such mutual bliss before, my body comfortable and at ease next to him despite how exposed my naked body is.
We kiss more and before the needy voice can return in my mind–or my vagina, I pull away.
Wren follows as I sit up, grabbing the hairbrush before he moves to sit behind me; one of his long legs resting next to me and the other hangs off the bed.
He starts running the brush through my hair, gently teasing it through any knots.
“I’m going to get a shower quickly once I’ve taken care of you and then you’re going to stay here in my bed.”
I lift my legs up to rest my head against my knees, smiling into them like some absolute love struck idiot. I've relentlessly told Phoenix not to bother me with this man for fifteen years–hes going to have a field day.
I forget to reply and he nudges me with the hairbrush in my waist, right in the spot I’m most ticklish. Laughing, I push gently at him with no malice, resting my head back onto my knees as I watch him twirl the ends of my hair.
“No one’s ever done this. Taken care of me like this.” I say shyly, feeling him pause against my hair, then the brush of his lips against my shoulder as he places a kiss there.
“You shouldn’t settle for anything less. Honestly, this is all new for me too. I really like it, and seeing you happy settles something in my caveman brain.”
We both chuckle, Wren resumes brushing. It all just feels so right, like a bird floating back into its family's nest where it’s always belonged.
“Your caveman brain sets a good standard. I demand you brush my hair every time I bathe.” I joke, turning my head slightly to look at him. He wears a delicate smile.
“Deal. It means you have to keep me around. I hope you understand what you’re getting yourself into.” His words have a clear underlying message.
“I’ll give you a trial run, Wrenny Baby. See how you get on.”
That gets a laugh from him and it's like music. The faint sound of rain still hits the windows, but I feel so far from reality that we could be anywhere in the world right now. The Tiffany lamp casts a warm glow onto our bodies, and it highlights Wren’s sharp jaw and the way his muscles flex with each movement tending to my curls.
He leans over my hunched body and places a kiss on the corner of my mouth.
“I’ll take my chances—best trial run of your life coming up.
” Throwing a wink at me, he rises from the bed and I don't hide the way I greedily soak him in.
He has the odd gaps of pale flesh, but the entire package is perfect.
No wonder fans go feral over shirtless pictures of him on Instagram. The comments are unhinged.
Moving over to his suitcase which still isn’t unpacked like my own, he digs around and produces an oversized, well-worn striped shirt and two pairs of boxers. Laying them on the bed, he picks up the items scattered and smooths back his curls which have fallen into his face.
“I’ll be really quick in the shower, Lovely. You’re more than welcome to stay naked, but if not, there is a tee and underwear for you.”
I thank him with a dopey smile. Winking at me again, Wren disappears into the bathroom but leaves the door open.
As I hear the shower turn on, I shuffle down the bed to grab both items of clothing.
Slipping the boxers on which are loose on my hips, I don’t stop myself from inhaling the t-shirt which smells deliciously like him.
Sandalwood and mint. Happily putting it on over my head, I debate whether I should wait for him to finish showering before getting into bed.
I’m still pondering to myself as I pull back the covers, lay my head down on the soft pillows and with complete ease, fall into a blissful slumber as the rain taps at the windows.