Chapter 25 #3
“So obedient.” I crouch enough to grip her thighs and lift her easily, setting her on the edge of my desk. Papers and notes scatter everywhere, but I don’t care, which tells me enough about how locked in on Lennon I am right now.
Her back meets the wood, and I drag her sweatpants down her legs, revealing her matching black lace panties underneath.
“Such pretty underwear,” I murmur, palming her through the fabric.
I meet her eyes and begin rubbing slow, firm strokes up and down her slit. When she starts to pant, I hook a finger in the lace and pull it to the side, exposing her completely.
“Spread my cum all over your perfect cunt.”
Her breath hitches, but she obeys beautifully again, gliding her palm over herself, rubbing my release over her clit, and pushing it inside. Her legs, twitching from the intensity, try to close.
“Open up and let me watch.”
She pants even harder as she spreads them wide, completely exposed on my desk. My cum shines on her pretty pink slit, and she pushes it inside herself even deeper. My cock jumps against my thigh at the sight.
“Keep doing that,” I rasp, pulling the cups of her bra down to free her breasts.
I roll and pinch her nipples, my gaze tracking everything as she keeps playing with herself.
I’m almost fully hard again, so I grip my cock and glide the head through her cum-covered slit, teasing her entrance and clit with slow strokes.
She gasps and arches into every pass.
“Are you enjoying yourself, Lennon?” I demand, pushing harder against her.
“Y-yes.”
I pull the lace completely to the side, then slide my cock underneath it so the fabric wraps around my shaft, pulling taut against her cunt. I start thrusting slowly, letting the lace and her soaked folds guide me up and down her slit, rubbing firmly over her clit with every stroke.
“Paul, oh fuck,” she moans out, her head falling back against the desk.
“Five years,” I groan out, rocking against her, still not pushing inside, savoring the feel of her. “Five years, and it’s all been worth it. Even if you tell me to stop right now, this still would have been worth it.”
“Please, please, I need you, Paul. Don’t stop.”
I freeze and give her a warning look. “Don’t rush me, darling.”
She whimpers, hips twitching. “Just the tip,” she breathes, voice trembling with need. “Please, Paul. Just a little bit.”
“Lennon.” I almost growl her name, eyes on her breasts as they bounce with every glide of my cock.
“Just the tip,” she repeats, softer, eyes glassy and pleading when they find mine. “I need to feel you. Please.”
That word from her mouth is lethal.
I groan, pull off the lace again, and notch the head of my cock at her entrance, pressing in the barest inch, enough to feel her heat clench around me.
Fuck.
I hold perfectly still even though every muscle in my body screams to sink deeper.
“Like this?”
She nods frantically, a broken little sound escaping her. “More. Just a little more.”
I give her another shallow inch, then pull back, teasing us both with the slow drag. In and out, never more than the head and a little beyond, rocking enough to feel her squeeze around me.
It’s torture of the sweetest kind.
“Paul…” She squirms, trying to pull me in deeper with her heels at my back.
I lean over her, bracing one hand on the desk, and kiss her. “You said just the tip.”
She laughs breathlessly against my mouth, the sound turning into a moan when I circle my hips. “I lied. I need all of you. Please.”
I kiss her harder, swallowing her plea, and finally, I thrust all the way in.
She cries out into my mouth as I bottom out, buried to the hilt, her walls squeezing me like she never wants to let go. I stay there for a long moment, forehead pressed to hers, breathing her in.
“Fuck,” I whisper against her lips. “You feel like everything I’ve ever wanted.”
I start to move slowly, deep thrusts that rock her whole body against the desk. Every slide pulls another broken sound from her throat. I can’t stop talking. The words pour out between kisses, between thrusts, like I’ve been holding them back for years.
Because I did.
“I love you,” I murmur, kissing her jaw, her throat, the beauty mark beside her mouth. “God, Lennon, I love you so much.”
Another thrust, harder. She arches, nails digging into my shoulders.
“You’re perfect. So fucking perfect for me.” Praise falls from me like breathing. “Look at you, taking me so well. My good girl. My everything.”
She’s getting close, but not quite there yet.
It’s that tension in her body I learned about last time.
I shift my weight to one arm and slide my free hand between us, finding her clit with my fingers.
I rub firm circles exactly how she showed me earlier, never losing the steady rhythm of my cock inside her.
She gasps sharply, hips jerking.
“That’s it,” I murmur. “Let me feel you.”
I lean down and capture one nipple between my lips, sucking gently at first, then harder, grazing it with my teeth before soothing it with my tongue. I switch to the other, biting down enough to make her cry out, then licking it softly while my fingers keep working her clit.
Her breathing turns ragged. She’s clenching around me, so close.
I almost growl against her breast, thrusting deeper, grinding against that spot inside her while my thumb presses firmer on her clit. “I want to feel this perfect cunt come all over my cock. Can you do that for me?”
“Paul.”
“Is that a yes?”
She shatters with a broken cry, walls clamping down around me like a vice.
Her whole body seizes, back arching hard off the desk, but I keep moving through it, steady thrusts and fast circles on her clit, drawing every last pulse and shudder out of her until she’s shaking and whimpering my name like a prayer.
Only then do I let myself go, burying my face in her neck as I come hard, pressing my hips to hers while spilling deep inside her with a low, guttural groan.
We stay locked together, foreheads pressed, breathing each other’s air in shaky, shared gasps. Her chest rises and falls against mine, her heartbeat almost frantic at her neck.
I brush damp strands of hair from her face, thumb stroking her cheek as we both come down.
“Wow,” she whispers.
A dry chuckle rumbles out of me. “High praise. I’ll take it.”
She laughs softly, the sound turning into a shiver as the cool air in the room hits her sweat-damp skin, and goose bumps rise along her arms and thighs.
I press my lips to her temple. “Let’s get you warm.”
Sliding my arms under her thighs, I carry her down the hall to my bedroom. Her arms tighten around my neck, face buried in my shoulder, every step making her bounce, gasp, and clench around me.
In the bedroom, I sit on the edge of the bed, keeping her in my lap, her chest pressed to mine.
She hums contentedly against me, boneless and warm, still full of me.
I stroke her back in long, slow sweeps, fingers threading through her hair, pressing kisses to her temple, her hairline, anywhere I can reach before I lay back, pull the covers over us, and draw her close.
She nuzzles into me, still catching her breath. “Was that worth breaking five years of celibacy for?”
“That was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life, Lennon.”
Her body tenses, and I know she’s doing that thing where she’s trying to decide whether I’m exaggerating.
I’m not.
The sex was extraordinary.
And I already know waking up beside her tomorrow morning will be the same.
“I love you. And you’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of.”
She makes a small, pleased sound and presses a kiss to my collarbone. “I love you too,” she murmurs sleepily, tracing her finger over my chest. “And I think you’re very handsome.”
I huff a laugh. “Darling.”
“No, I’m serious. You tell me all the time that I’m beautiful, but just so you know, so are you.”
She traces a fingertip along my collarbone.
“You get these little marks from your glasses when you wear them too long, your hair does this thing when you’re stressed where it sticks up in the back, you always smell like coffee, and God, your eyes are so pretty.
The first thing I thought when we met was how handsome you are. ”
I chuckle softly, reaching up to grab her wrist. “You thought I was a gay serial killer.”
She kisses my jaw. “But a very handsome one.”
The ridiculous thing is how much hearing that affects me.
I glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand.
Then at her.
Then, I check the time again.
Waking life.
Still waking life.
Thank God.
I gather her close to me and close my eyes, basking in this moment that’s only for us.
With her in my bed, in my arms, I feel like I’ve finally made it home.
“Thank you,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to her head.
For the first time in years, sleep doesn’t feel like something I’m bracing for.