Chapter 29
HANNAH
Fifteen minutes later, I’m sitting on the couch, waiting for Thomas, dressed in a comfy t-shirt and my favorite cotton sleep shorts. He’s still in the shower, so Arson and I are hanging out. I have my book in my lap, but I haven’t read a page, too excited, too nervous about what’s to come.
Thomas comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later wrapped only in a towel. His skin glistens with water still clinging to his body, his hair flopping over his face and in his eyes. He raises his arm to push the hair from his face, and in doing so, shows off his strong biceps.
Oh sweet lord, he’s trying to kill me. That’s what this is.
He knows I can’t resist him if he teases me like this.
Fuck, he’s hot. The thickness of his chest, the softness of his belly, it’s all doing me in.
With every step he takes, his thick thighs shift the towel, and I swear I can see the outline of his semi-hard cock.
“Forgot my clothes,” he says with a laugh.
Words don’t come to me, only a soft squeak. Thomas catches the noise, giving me a subtle wink as he passes by, heading up the stairs with the towel clinging to his ass.
I’m not going to survive this, am I?
I shrink into the couch, taking a long inhale of air. Arson glances between the two of us, flopping onto the dog bed in the corner.
A moment later, Thomas comes back downstairs with his hair towel-dried, and a pair of loose shorts and a shirt on. He has the towel slung over his arm, and he heads into the bathroom to hang it up before coming back into the main area and sitting on the couch beside me.
I shift myself to give him more room, but he doesn’t let me. Instead, he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me into his body. A small squeak leaves my mouth, but I relax into him. I move my book from my lap and set it on the arm of the couch.
“That’s better,” Thomas mumbles. “Movie?”
I nod into his chest.
“What are you feeling?” he questions.
“I’m up for anything,” I say with a shrug.
Thomas turns on the TV and searches the channels, finding an old movie from the eighties that’s about to start. “Okay?” he asks.
“Yep,” I reply, trying to keep my breathing and heart under control. Throughout the first twenty minutes of the movie, Thomas’s fingers trail up and down my arms, my side, the curve of my hip, constantly touching me.
When his fingers twist in the end of my braid, sliding up to the base of my neck and cupping it gently, I shiver. His large hands do something to me.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” Thomas whispers, drawing my attention to him with the hand to my neck, making me look into those bright blue eyes.
I swallow thickly, words failing me.
“Because you are. Every time I look at you, I find another thing to love. Your eyes, because the shade of blue reminds me of a lake in the summer. Almost navy with flecks of gray. Your freckles, because they’re a road map, directing me to another part of you.
Your lips, because now I know exactly what you taste like, and every time I walk away from you, I would do anything for one more kiss.
He caresses my cheek as he looks into my soul. “Your body. I love how soft it is. How each dip and curve is a new place for me to touch, to worship. Your hair. I love the way it feels when I run my fingers through it. So silky smooth.”
I’m completely in awe. If I let him, he’d keep going, I know he would. He’d probably find a way to describe my kneecaps, but I stop him before it gets to that point, sitting up and taking initiative.
I get to my knees at his side, sliding my hand up his chest and tilting his chin to face me. “Thank you,” I murmur, bending in close until our noses brush. Without any further hesitation, I kiss him.
At first, it’s sweet, a thank you to him for making me feel better than anyone ever has. Then, it turns passionate, the heat between us burning brighter than it ever has. My hands are on his face, feeling the scruff of his beard on my skin, my palms tingling as it scratches.
Thomas’s hands slide down my arms to my waist, hooking around and scooping me onto his lap.
My legs open, allowing me to straddle his wide thighs as I hold myself up over him.
His large hands grip my waist tightly, our mouths never breaking apart as he devours me, fully taking over the kiss that I once led.
My thighs start to ache from holding myself up, but I don’t care.
This feels more amazing than anything I’ve ever felt.
I let one hand tangle in his damp hair while the other presses into his chest, his warmth radiating.
I lean forward, pressing my breasts into his chest, loving the feel of his body connected to mine.
Thomas grunts into my mouth, and I panic, moving to shift off him, fearing that I did something wrong. “Don’t move,” he mumbles against my lips.
Even though my pelvis is barely resting on him, I can feel how hard he is getting. I let out the smallest whimper, because holy hell, that is hot. Knowing that I’m the one doing this to him makes my clit throb and wetness seep into my panties.
Is this really happening? I’m not positive that I’m not in a dream, but all the same, I let myself bask in the heat of this moment.
Thomas tries to pull my hips down, but I don’t move, my body still frozen, hovering over him. “What are you doing?” he mumbles.
“You told me not to move,” I say breathlessly.
“Yeah, you were trying to get off of me when I wanted you to sit on my lap, baby,” he argues.
“I’m sitting on your lap.”
“No, you aren’t. You aren’t putting any weight on me.” He kisses the line of my jaw, down my neck as he tries to pull me down again. I resist, holding myself up.
“Hannah, sit.” His command sends a zing through me, and I lower myself onto him an inch. “Not enough,” he growls, pulling me further.
It’s harder to resist this time, and he settles me fully onto his lap, letting me feel the hard heaviness of his erection between my thighs. I squirm, trying not to put my full weight on him, but he holds me firmly down. “Stop it.”
“I don’t want to squish you,” I mutter, heat flooding through my system.
“You aren’t. I want this, want to feel your pretty pussy grinding against me, baby.”
My pussy pulses and a gush of wetness floods my panties at his words.
“Oh,” I breathe, my body melting into his.
“There you go,” Thomas murmurs, kissing my pulse point and pushing my braid to the other side to suck on the sensitive skin of my neck. “That’s what I wanted.”
My hips slowly rock as if they have a mind of their own, or some natural instinct kicks in. Thomas’s hands shift from around my waist to the top of my ass, squeezing gently and kneading the softness there.
He rocks his body along with my hips, his hard length flush with my pussy. There’s only a few thin layers of fabric between us, and as intense and overwhelming as this is, I can’t wait for there to be nothing between us.
My heart beats wildly in my chest. For once in my life, it’s not anxiety, though. It’s lust, heat, and anticipation. My clit is rubbing just right with the seam of his shorts, his pants and the hardness of his cock giving me the right amount of friction and movement.
I’ve never felt an orgasm rise this fast, not even when I would use my vibrator at home, but the familiar pleasure begins to tingle in my core, and build more with each passing second, with each rock of our hips.
My head falls onto Thomas’s chest as his mouth continues to suck and press gentle kisses to any piece of skin he has access to. “If you keep moving those hips like that, you’re going to make me come, freckles.”
I sigh heavily, my body tight and coiled like a spring, waiting to release. I want him to come. I want to feel his release, feel what I can do to him, so I don’t stop.