37. Chapter 37
Nick
This is finally happening. I am really getting to have Lydia the way I’ve thought about so many times.
I watch as she walks to the foot of the bed and turns to face me, slowly lifting her shirt over her head.
A soft smile plays on her lips. I try to be a gentleman and keep eye contact, but my eyes are drawn to the lacy bra just as Lydia reaches down and starts to unzip her jeans, kicking them off.
God, she is stunning. She is curvy and soft in the most perfect places.
I want to leave my mark on her hips. I want to drag slow, intentional kisses down her stomach and wrap that messy, curly hair around my fist and do everything I’ve been dreaming of.
She stands there, facing me with zero shame.
The confidence in her body is possibly the sexiest thing about her, and I am so proud she’s so unabashedly herself.
I know her slimeball husband criticized her about her curves and her size, so for her to stand here naked, allowing me to simply look at her, takes such bravery on her part.
I walk toward her, taking her hips into my hands as gently as I can muster.
“You are so beautiful. Do you know that?” I brush my lips across her ear, noticing a shiver rippling through her body.
I grip her hips harder and press my mouth to hers, brushing my tongue along her bottom lip, urging her to open for me.
When she does, she lets out a small sigh, and I am done for.
I kiss her again, my tongue sliding inside and brushing against hers.
Our kiss deepens quickly. What starts out as soft and sweet quickly turns urgent and needy.
I walk Lydia backward toward her bed and lay her down, covering her with my own body. Careful not to crush her, I keep my weight on my elbows. I break our kiss, only to look down at her.
“Is this still okay?”
She nods, eyes never leaving mine.
“I need your words, baby. Tell me this is okay.”
“Yes. Yes, this is okay. Please don’t stop.” She wiggles beneath me, searching for the friction we both so desperately need.
I lean down, pulling her mouth to mine again, hungrier and deeper this time. I can feel her fingers tugging at my shirt. I break away only just long enough to yank it off and toss it aside.
“These should go too.” She dips her fingers into the waistband of my jeans, pulling on them. “Like right now.”
I smirk and chuck off the denim. “Yes, ma’am.”
Once my jeans are off, our mouths collide again.
“Tell me you want this,” I murmur.
“God, yes. I want this, Nick. I want you.”
I kiss my way down her neck and her collarbone, pausing to suck and nip the soft skin of her breast. She gasps, her fingers digging into my shoulders.
“That’s it, baby,” I whisper against her skin. “Let me hear you.”
My mouth finds her nipple, and I draw it between my teeth, not quite gentle but not rough either. Not yet, but the sensation makes her arch into me, needing more.
My hand trails down her stomach, sliding between her thighs. I groan as I feel how aroused she already is. “Fuck, you’re already so wet for me.”
“Please,” she begs. But I’m not done teasing her yet.
I move lower, kissing down her belly, knowing exactly where I’m going.
When my mouth finds her swollen clit, she nearly comes off the bed.
My tongue is relentless, alternating between slow, deliberate strokes and quick flicks that make her cry out.
I hold her hips down when she tries moving, keeping her exactly where I want her.
“Nick, I’m—” She can’t even finish the sentence.
“I know, pretty girl. I’m gonna take care of you.”
I slide two fingers inside her while my mouth continues its assault on her clit, and I feel her body tense. Her orgasm hits her like a wave, and I feel every moment of it, intense and all-consuming. She cries out my name, her body trembling as pleasure washes through her.
But I don’t stop. I draw out every bit of sensation until she is begging me for something else entirely.
Finally, I crawl back up her body, seeing the raw hunger in her expression. I position myself at her entrance. She holds her breath.
“Look at me, Lydi. I need your eyes, baby,” I command softly.
Her eyes flutter open as I push into her slowly, my eyes never leaving hers. The feeling of her around me, the stretch as I fill her, and the intimacy of the moment take my breath away. For a second, we just stay like this, breathing together, connected in a way that goes beyond the physical.
“You okay?” I ask softly, needing to make sure.
“More than okay,” she whispers. “Move, Nick, please.”
So I do.
I move, my thrusts slow and deep. But as she urges me faster, I lose all pretense of control.
My hips snap against hers, and the sound of skin on skin fills the room along with our ragged breathing.
Her bed rocks beneath us, but we barely notice.
All I care about is the feeling of being inside her, the way her body clings to mine, the way she whispers my name against my neck like it’s a prayer.
“You’re mine, Lydia,” I growl. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” she gasps. “All yours.”
I grab her leg and hitch it higher on my hip, changing the angle so I hit the spot inside her that makes her eyes roll back and forces her to cry out. Her nails dig so hard into my back I’m certain I’ll have moon-shaped marks tomorrow. I hope I do.
“Come for me,” I command, my voice strained. “Come on my cock.”
She shatters then, her body convulsing around me. The feeling of her coming undone pushes me over the edge. I follow moments later, my entire body going rigid as I spill into her with a low groan from deep in my chest.
For a moment, we just lie here, tangled together, our breathing ragged and synchronized. I shift slightly, pulling her against my chest, my arms wrapping around her protectively. I press a kiss to the top of her head, feeling her relax against me.
“Wait here. I’ll be right back,” I tell her before heading to her bathroom.
I take a second to clean myself up, then I run a washcloth under warm water and wring it out to take back to her bedroom.
I crawl up the bed and nudge her knees apart, cleaning her up. I use the cloth over all her sensitive areas and down her thighs.
I look up at her and she’s already looking at me, eyes filled with an emotion I can’t quite read.
I kiss the inside of her knee, then take the washcloth back to her bathroom, tossing it in her hamper.
I turn the light off and head back into her room, turning off her bedside lamp.
Pulling her covers down, I tuck Lydia beneath them and crawl in behind her.
“Thank you,” she whispers, falling into sleep with us tangled together under the blankets, as though it’s how it’s always been.