Chapter 17 #2
“Well, since you asked so nicely.” I finally concede before reclaiming my seat.
She whimpers in protest. “Shh, shh, shhh, baby. Don’t worry, I’m going to take real, real good care of you.
” I clasp my hand around her ankle and rub gentle circles with my thumb.
“Just relax. It’ll take a minute, but you’re just gonna have to trust the process.
Just gonna have to be a little more patient.
Can you do that for me?” She nods, her lip pulled between her teeth as she tries to rein in her need, tries so very hard to keep quiet just like I asked.
The trust and hard-earned submission of such a powerful, brilliant woman is something that I’d never take for granted.
I place a reassuring kiss on one of the snapdragons that decorate her calf before kneading the muscle that tenses as she waits. “Now, close your eyes.”
After hesitating a moment, she closes them and tilts her head back.
“You’re going to have to open yourself up to me. It’s going to feel a little uncomfortable at first, but don’t resist.”
“What happens if I resist?” Uncertainty creeps into her voice.
“You’ll be okay. Maybe just a few seconds of nausea.” I watch one of her nails dig into her skin. I slip my hand in hers, giving it a squeeze to soothe her. “I promise, I’ll go nice and slow, so it won’t hurt. I would never hurt you.”
Sol nods and relaxes once again. “I know. Go ahead.”
I focus on my presence in my own body to ground myself before I start to wander, detaching then reattaching to Sol. Slipping inside her is like pulling on an old favorite coat—comforting, familiar—despite never doing this together before.
I enter easily, gently, slowly.
She opens up to me, submissive, trusting, yielding, mine.
It’s like coming home.
The beat of her heart is intimate, reassuring. I follow that thread south. Parting her legs, I run her hands along the soft skin of her inner thighs, luxuriating in the silky feel of it along her fingertips as I drag them upward.
Sol’s consciousness bumps against mine, her pleasure vibrating against my own in sweet surrender as she allows me to touch her with her own hands.
Tracing a line up the center of her panties, chills erupt all over her body.
I repeat the motion, a strum of electricity I can feel in her toes, and how she soaks the fabric.
Slipping her hand beneath the waistband, I cup her pussy.
Does it turn you on, how I make you touch yourself?
Yes. She thinks back at me. Her hips lift against her hand, chasing the attentive touch.
We’re going to fuck this pretty pussy together. Does that sound good to you?
Please. I can feel her moan more than hear it.
Her finger slips between her lips easily, then drags wetness over her clit. Her back arches, and my consciousness hums with satisfaction as we work her finger in circles, waves of ecstasy washing over us.
I turn her head to the side, toward the dark screen so I—we—can watch her face contort with pleasure as I drag her fingers through her center and push two inside her. A crackle of delight tingling between us with each purposeful thrust in and out.
I’ve made a study of her body, mapped what she does and doesn’t like, worshipped every inch of it, but being inside of her like this, it’s an entirely new level of fulfillment.
Greedily, I push another one of her fingers into her cunt, enjoying the internal stretch of it.
That’s it. Take another one, baby. Fill yourself up.
Her hips writhe while I use her other hand to free her breast. My mouth waters at the sight of it overflowing in her hand, the edges of the spiderweb tattoo peeking out.
With only a little straining, her nipple and the tip of her tongue meet.
Moving it in circles, I tease her areola, then flick it over the taut peak.
A throbbing need calls to us within her.
So sensitive, my girl. So responsive. You’ve gone too long without me.
You need someone who really knows your body, somebody who has your trust, to let go and truly escape.
I know none of the others could ever make you feel the way I do.
They could never do this for you, not even when I was inside them.
With pointed strokes, I drag her fingers along her inner walls, stoking the fire of need nearly erupting within her.
No. They couldn’t. Never. She agrees.
It’s the encouragement I need to pick up the pace, pumping her fingers in and out of her in tandem with her teasing tongue and lips torturing her nipple. In the dark screen, I watch with great satisfaction as her eyes roll back in her head and her body tenses.
Come for me, my love. Let me feel you come apart, body and mind. Give yourself over to it.
There’s no fight as her orgasm engulfs both of us, sparking hot and violent along the barely there barrier that still exists between us. A bit more of me melting into her and vice versa before her sensory overload is pushing up against me, urging me to relinquish the space I’m taking up.
I do so willingly, and the transition is heady, my mind and body swimming with the intoxication of her climax. For several seconds, we simply stare at each other. My mind reeling, her body twitching and readjusting.
Stretching, I acclimate to the feel of my own body. “Are you okay?” The metallic taste of blood lingers in my mouth, my tongue sore. I wash it away with another glass of water.
“That was…” Sol starts to say.
“Yeah,” I agree, nodding in disbelief. I’ve been inside other people and unfortunately had other spirits inside me, but I’ve never experienced anything that compares. Perfection. We were meant to come like that, as one.
“How did you even figure out you were capable of that?” she asks through panting breaths as she drags her fingertips over her soft stomach.
Simply admiring her, I wait a minute to respond. Sol’s brows are furrowed, and her eyes are closed—drowning out visual stimulation, she says—as she focuses just on the pleasure working its way through her body.
“We both know making you come has always been a skill of mine.” I can’t help but laugh at myself as I tug her panties back into place, making sure to brush my knuckles across her still-throbbing cunt.
Sol jerks, her body still so sensitive. “You know what I mean.” I take pride in the breathiness that lingers in her voice like smoke.
“By accident mostly. Well, at first. Then Jayden helped me do some research, and it was a lot of trial and error. More error, if I’m being honest.” I don’t miss the way her jaw tightens at Jayden’s name, but now’s not the time for that conversation.
“But I really started to understand myself when I befriended others who were interested in the paranormal.” Rounding the desk, I take a seat on the other side.
“You’ll see, it’s not some half-ass operation, these people—my team—they’re legit. ”
“How do you know they can handle this?” Sol raises her eyebrow in question, doubt pouting her lips.
“Because they’re professionals, and they’ve been at this for a long time.
It might have started out as something casual, but then Mendez came along.
” I laugh at the horror he expressed when he realized we had no legal documents protecting us, no organization to our operations, just me and Jayden doing our thing.
“He’s the glue that keeps us together, but he’s also the one who pushes us to be the best of the best. We’ve been through some gruesome shit to get to where we are.
We’re lucky to have him, though. He changed everything for me.
” Admiration is clear in my voice. Sometimes he acts more like a father figure—a hardass if I ever met one—but he means well.
He’s helped me keep it together more than he can imagine.
“You’d like him, I think. He’s very…practical. Loves his rules.”
She flips me off. “Some of them are absurd, but most rules exist for a reason, okay.”
“I know, Nightingale.”
When she sits up, I pull her closer to the edge of the desk, and the skirt of her dress rucks up further on her hips, giving me a clear view of her drenched panties. I salivate, distracted by the memory of how she tastes.
“Focus.” She tilts my head up to meet her eyes. “You were telling me about Mendez, what’s his role?”
“Ozzie is more of the entrepreneur type; he handles our finances, makes sure our legal affairs are in order, payouts, the boring stuff really—but he’s also one of our investigators.”
“Well, it sounds like at least one of you has some sense.”
“Hey, I’m responsible.” I gesture around me to the house that I’ve bought and completely remodeled.
“It’s a beautiful house. But how much money did you burn doing a remodel that didn’t necessarily need to happen?”
“When my parents agreed to sell it to me, I was thrilled. But it wasn’t home.
Not the one we dreamed of, at least.” I shrug.
“Honestly, it gave me something to pour myself into, a way to spend my days that wasn’t falling to pieces.
Having the remodel to focus on kept me out of trouble for the most part. ”
“For the most part?”
Leaning back in my chair, I stare up into the void of the ceiling.
“I won’t pretend like I was okay when you left.
I wasn’t exactly in my right state of mind for those first few months.
Years, even.” For this next part, I don’t spare her the weight of my gaze.
“You broke my heart, Sol. Fuck, you tore it out of me, left a hole that couldn’t be filled by anyone or anything.
” Unbuttoning my shirt, I pull it open to expose the blackout tattoo on my chest that resembles a torn, gaping hole.
She leans forward across the desk until her fingers meet the concentrated black tattoo on my brown skin. “I didn’t do this to hurt you, but I’m sorry that I still managed to do just that.” Her voice is unsteady.
“I know you are. An apology doesn’t change anything, though. You leaving destroyed a part of me. I can’t ever get the man I used to be back. It’s changed me. What I want from you now is a promise.”
Sorrow swims in her eyes. “What’s that?”
“That you’ll love the man I’ve become—every part of him.”
“You know that I do.”
“Then you’re going to have to prove it to me by trusting me wholly and completely, because what lies ahead of us isn’t going to work otherwise.”