40. Amanda #2
He stops pacing, still close enough to the bed that I can wrap my fingers around his wrist. When I tug him back toward me, he resists for a second, then sits beside me, dragging a hand through his hair.
His arm is tense beneath my fingers, and his eyes flicker over my face.
“I don’t ever want to bring that back for you.”
“You didn’t do that.” I shake my head. “I carry that night with me, just like you do. You can’t know what will bring it back for me, and I can’t know what will bring it back for you.”
I shift closer until there’s no space between us.
“That night is part of us.” I cup his cheek. “It’s time we own it.”
His brows pull together. “What do you mean?”
“We’re moving forward. We’re not stuck in that ending anymore.” My thumb brushes his cheekbone. “I want to show my body that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. With you. I want it to learn that you on your knees doesn’t mean I’m back there.”
Eric blinks, his concern still there as he studies my face.
“You want us together like that?”
I nod. “I want you behind me. I want to look back and see you there, and know exactly where I am.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I don’t want to hurt you, either.” I lace my fingers through his. “That’s what matters. What we both want.” I lean closer. “I want this. What do you want?”
For a moment, his gaze sweeps over my face with intensity. Then he closes the distance between our lips and slots our mouths together. His tongue coaxes mine until we meet in the space between our mouths that belongs to neither of us.
“I need you to know,” he whispers against my lips, “that I want only you, that what I feel” —he presses his palm against his pec—“is only for you.”
We fall into each other’s lips again, our tongues seeking warmth and friction in lazy strokes.
I let myself fall back, and Eric follows, bracing his weight on his forearms without breaking our kiss.
He is used to the baby bump between us and knows it won’t hurt me or Beckett.
The overzealous caution of the first few times is overtaken by eagerness and need to replace that old image of himself on his knees with something new.
He presses closer, his hips settling against mine.
I follow the waistband of his shorts, sliding around his hips to guide him lower until our bodies meet.
His cock is half-hard now, and when I lower my hand further down to cup his ass through his pants, I make him rock against me.
He groans into my mouth, the sound vibrating between us.
He lifts himself enough to tug my shirt upward without pulling it off, his hands slipping beneath it until they find the waistband of my panties. I let my legs fall open, and his cheeks darken with a delicious flush when he sees how soaked the gusset of my underwear is.
“You’re so fucking wet for me and all I’ve done is kiss you.”
“I love your kisses,” I say, shifting my hips as he takes my panties off.
“Where do you want my lips, baby?” he murmurs through a deep groan. “Which lips of yours do you want me to kiss?” He strokes his index and middle fingers into a V-shape, rubbing them between my inner lips and entrance.
I whimper, lifting myself onto my forearms so I can watch not just his face, but the way he palms his erection through the shorts.
“You’re wearing too much clothing.”
He tsks. “And you’re not listening.” He shifts his fingers to hold my clit between the pad of his digits. Still, he doesn’t fucking flick it.
“Eric,” I hiss.
His whole face is flushed a deep red, and even on the dark fabric, a wet patch forms a crown around the ridge of cock.
“Where do you want my lips, love?” He punctuates every other word with a pinch to my clit.
“Suck me,” I almost sob out.
He leans between my legs until he breathes over my pussy. I’m so wet his breath lands cold against my empty core. “Magic word, Amanda.”
“Please, make me come with your mouth.”
His shoulders shake against my thighs. He kisses the inside of my leg, starting close to my knee and moving closer to where I want him with each kiss.
“I fucking love sex with you.” He sucks on my mid-thigh, his teeth nipping without pain. “It’s hot, and tender, and sexy. And it’s fun.” He’s hovering over my clit. “And I feel fucking safe with you.”
He finally latches on, sucking hard before swirling his tongue to lap at me. On the second flick, I let out a deep moan that makes my whole chest vibrate.
I feel Eric stroke my outer thigh with his left hand, as he flicks sideways against my clit.
He palms the widest part of my stomach in a small caress before shifting to the side and patting the sheet until I reach for his hand.
He laces our fingers together, sucking on me once again.
With a high-pitched groan, I shove my hips against his mouth, chasing the pleasure he’s giving me until my entire body turns my orgasm into uncontrollable spasms beneath Eric’s satisfied groan.
Not that he stops, sucking my clit between his teeth, tongue lapping slowly to prolong my peak.
Before I’ve come down, Eric kisses his way up my stomach, devoting attention to my breasts and neck before dropping a kiss to my lips. He then latches his mouth to the base of my neck. While his sweaty forehead brushes against my jaw, he makes quick work shedding his shorts.
Eric hooks his arm under my knee and opens my legs.
With a long, deep thrust, he sheaths his cock inside me.
He shifts my hips slightly so I’m more on my side, his weight on my thigh rather than my stomach.
I rock my hips desperately in this new angle to give myself more friction, but Eric’s hands dig into the fleshiest part of my hips, holding me tightly until his hipbone digs into my thigh and I can’t fucking rub myself against him.
“If you want me to fuck you from behind give me a sec, sweetheart.” He brushes his nose against me. “I want to feel you clenching around my dick like this.”
He licks the underside of my jaw and makes his cock pulse without rolling into me.
“Baby, I need you to move again. That thing you’re doing…”
He twitches his dick again, hitting against my G-spot, and making me moan. He grabs my chin and tilts my eyes to his. “You want me on my knees from behind?” He rocks his hips. “Or you want me to make you come with my cock like this?”
The question is teasing, but its underlying meaning pulls me out of my sex-crazed mind long enough to remember that this time, there’s supposed to be more than mind-blowing pleasure between us.
It’s a new foundation.
I nod, cupping his jaw in response. “I want to come around your cock with you on your knees, and me on all fours. I want to watch every expression of yours in the mirror.”
With a thrust, he gives me a shaky nod. “I don’t know if that’ll work for me. It’s loaded.” His cock drives in again as he whispers. “But I want to—”
I peck his lips. “We make each other feel good. No expectation, right?”
After a deeper stroke, he nods, then pulls away. Once he’s helped me sit up, he tugs my shirt over my head, and we kiss now that we’re both naked.
Holding my hands, he eases me toward the center of the bed, facing the mirror. Before I can lower my forearms to the mattress, Eric shoves a pillow beneath them so I can rest my face against it, too. He grabs the smallest pillow and brings it closer—to the side of us.
While caressing my breasts, he checks the pillow and the angle of my legs.
I catch the movement of his body in the reflection.
He’s as hard as he was, a trickle of precum dripping down his shaft.
He’s completely into this. I am, too. My mind is far more focused on the hollow ache between my thighs, on the ink on Eric’s skin that marks him as mine.
Then Eric rises onto his knees, settles behind me, hips aligned with me, meeting my eyes in the mirror.
For one sharp second, it’s exactly what I remember.
Him behind a woman. On his knees. Desire clouding his eyes.
This isn’t the Eric from then, though.
There’s more than desire in his face. His eyes are wide, his gaze fixed on me with an intensity that has nothing to do with lust alone. There’s a shine in them that feels almost like devotion. His hand settles against my right cheek, the touch so tentative it carries its own kind of anticipation.
Nothing about this is mindless or frantic. Every move Eric makes is deliberate, threaded with the need to rewrite something we both know can never be rewritten.
“You good, baby?”
I nod against the pillow, never looking away from his burning gaze reflected in front of me. “You?”
“I really want to do this.” Without breaking eye contact, he trails his index finger up and down my spine. “I really want to show you something.”
“Fuck me,” I mouth.
He leans over himself until he drops a kiss on my right ass cheek, tongue darting out before raising back on his knees. Then, digging his hand into my left hip, he lines himself up and slides in slowly until his thigh flushes against my skin.
My lips form an ‘O’ with the depth of his penetration.
“Is it too much?” He grits out behind me, eyes trained on my face.
“You go really deep this way.”