Twenty
Teller
I can't believe this is happening.
Susanna's hand is in mine as we climb the stairs to our bedroom—our bedroom, not the guest room I've been exiled to for weeks. My heart is hammering so hard I'm surprised she can't hear it.
At the door, I pause. "Are you sure? We don't have to—"
"Teller." She turns to face me, her eyes dark with want. "I'm sure. I need this. I need you."
"Okay. Okay, but... slow. I want to do this right."
She nods, and I open the door.
The room looks the same as it always has, but everything feels different. Sacred, somehow. Like I'm being given a gift I don't deserve but will spend the rest of my life earning.
I close the door behind us and turn to her. She's watching me, her chest rising and falling with quick breaths. The lamp on the nightstand casts soft light across her face, and she's so beautiful it hurts.
"Come here," I say softly.
She steps into my arms, and I hold her for a moment, just hold her. My face buried in her hair, breathing her in. Feeling her warmth against me.
"I missed this," she whispers. "I missed you."
"I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. Never again."
I pull back just enough to kiss her again. Slower this time. Savoring it. My hands frame her face, tilting her head so I can kiss her deeper, taste her more thoroughly.
She makes a soft sound and presses against me, her hands sliding under my shirt to touch bare skin. Her touch sends electricity through me.
"Can I undress you?" I ask against her lips.
"Yes."
I reach for the hem of her sweater, lifting it slowly. She raises her arms, and I pull it over her head, dropping it to the floor. Underneath, she's wearing a simple cotton bra, nothing fancy, but the sight of her makes my mouth go dry.
"You're so beautiful," I murmur, my hands skimming up her sides. "So fucking beautiful."
I kiss her neck, her collarbone, the swell of her breasts above the bra. She shivers, her fingers threading through my hair.
"Your turn," she says, tugging at my shirt.
I pull it off, and her hands are on me immediately, exploring the planes of my chest and stomach like she's relearning my body. Her touch is tentative at first, then bolder.
"I forgot how good you feel," she admits.
"Touch me anywhere you want. I'm yours, Susanna. Only yours."
She looks up at me, something vulnerable in her eyes. "Promise me. Promise me you're mine."
"I promise. I swear to God, I'm yours. No one else. Never anyone else."
I kiss her again, walking her backward toward the bed. When the backs of her knees hit the mattress, she sits, and I kneel in front of her.
"What are you doing?" she asks.
"Worshipping you." I press a kiss to her knee. "The way I should have been all along."
I reach for the button of her jeans, and she lifts her hips so I can slide them down her legs. She's wearing simple white panties, and there's already a damp spot on the fabric that makes my cock throb.
"Lie back," I tell her.
She does, propping herself up on her elbows to watch me. I kiss my way up her legs—her ankles, her calves, the inside of her knees. She trembles under my touch.
When I reach her thighs, I pause. "Can I take these off?"
"Yes. God, yes."
I hook my fingers in the waistband of her panties and pull them down slowly, revealing her to me. She's already wet, her pussy glistening in the lamplight, and the sight makes me groan.
"Fuck, Susanna. Look at you."
"Teller—"
"I'm going to make you feel so good, baby. I'm going to make up for every night I wasn't here, every time I made you feel like you weren't enough. You're everything. You're fucking everything."
I spread her thighs wider and lower my mouth to her.