Chapter 34 #2
She gasps, hips jerking, and I hold her still, fingers digging into her skin. “You’re dripping for him, Cleo. Fuck—” I thrust my tongue deeper, twisting, teasing. “—and now you’re dripping for me too.”
Her moans fill the room, high and desperate, her body tightening around my mouth like she’s ready to come undone.
That’s when I move my mouth to her clit and slide my hand lower. My thumb circles her clit while two fingers push inside her, slick and easy from how ruined she already is. She cries out, thighs clamping around my head, nails biting into the wood of the dresser.
I curl my fingers, stroking the spot that makes her see stars, fucking her with my hand as my mouth teases her swollen bud. Every thrust drags a new sound from her throat.
Then—because I want more, because I want all of her—I trail one finger from her pussy, wet with her arousal, and press it against her other entrance. She gasps, body jolting, but she doesn’t pull away.
I rub there slowly, teasing her, pushing just enough to make her breath break. “Yeah,” I groan, my tongue flicking over her clit, “I want you everywhere. My tongue, my fingers . . . still stretched from having Barret inside you.”
I ease the finger past the tight ring, stretching her gently as my other hand works her pussy. She screams, the sound raw and shattered, body quaking under me.
I don’t let up.
I want her shaking, undone, claimed everywhere at once.
Her cries are sharp against the silence, echoing through my skin as I keep her wide open for me. My tongue flicks over her clit, steady and cruel, while my fingers curl inside her, dragging over that sweet spot again and again.
She’s so close I can feel it—the trembling in her thighs, the frantic pulse of her cunt and her ass around my fingers, the way her hand yanks at my hair like she’ll tear it out if I don’t give her what she wants.
But I don’t.
Not yet.
I pull my mouth away just enough to speak, my lips grazing her swollen flesh. “You want to come for me, Cleo?”
“Yes,” she gasps, desperate.
I press my thumb harder against her clit, dragging a slow circle, while my finger at her rim pushes deeper, stretching her. She shudders violently, moaning so loud it vibrates through my chest.
“Say it,” I murmur, taunting her, tongue brushing her again but never giving her enough. “Beg me.”
Her head tips back, hair falling wild, sweat shining across her chest. “Please, Eddie. Please—I need it. I need you.”
Fuck, the way she says my name . . . it nearly undoes me.
“Do you want to come on my mouth,” I growl, plunging my fingers deeper, curling them until she screams, “with my tongue tasting you? With me inside you where he’s been?”
“Yes! God, yes,” she sobs.
That’s all I need.
I latch onto her clit, sucking hard, relentlessly, while my fingers piston into her, driving her higher and higher. My other finger works her ass, stroking in perfect rhythm until her whole body convulses.
She shatters.
The orgasm rips through her, violent and uncontrollable, her cry breaking open as she jerks against my mouth. Liquid spills over my fingers, hot and sudden, and I drink her down, lapping her through every spasm.
She’s shaking, crying, clinging to the dresser like she’ll collapse if I let go.
And I don’t stop until she’s gone, until she’s soaked my hand, until she’s begging me through tears and broken moans to give her a breath.
Only then do I ease back, licking her thighs, kissing her trembling skin, savoring the taste of her, imagining Barret’s mouth where mine is.
“Fuck,” I whisper against her cunt, still pulsing against my lips. “That’s mine now too.”
She’s trembling, clinging to the dresser like she’ll collapse if I let go. Her chest heaves, breasts flushed and damp, her lips parted around broken gasps.
I slowly ease my fingers out, licking them clean as she watches with heavy-lidded eyes. Then I rise, pressing kisses up her thighs, over her stomach, along the valley of her breasts, until I reach her mouth.
Her lips part for me, desperate, and I kiss her deeply—slowly, lingering, letting her taste herself on me. She whimpers into my mouth, arms wrapping around my shoulders, pulling me close like she can’t get enough.
I trail kisses along her jaw, down her throat, nipping lightly just to catch the hitch in her breath. My hands roam her hips, her waist, cupping her breasts again, kneading gently until she moans against my lips.
“Come for me,” I whisper between kisses, voice rough with need.
Her nails dig into my back. “I want you, Eddie. Please.”
That’s it. That’s the end of my restraint.
I step back just enough to strip off my shirt. The fabric falls to the floor, and her eyes follow it before lifting back to me.
I kick off my shoes, shove down my slacks, leaving only the thin stretch of my boxer briefs between us. My cock strains against the fabric, leaking, demanding, and her gaze drops to it like she can’t look away.
I pull the last barrier off, standing bare in front of her. The sound she makes—half gasp, half moan—shoots straight through me.
Her hands reach for me, but I catch them, kiss her palms. “Not yet,” I murmur. “I want you open for me.”
I lean over her, chest to chest, kissing her deeply before reaching into the nightstand drawer. My hand finds the foil packet, and I tear it open with my teeth, sliding the condom on.
Her gaze never leaves me. She’s trembling, flushed, waiting.
“Eddie,” she whispers, voice breaking.
I cup her face, thumb stroking her cheek as I press against her entrance. “I’ve got you,” I breathe. “Just us.”
And then, slow as I can manage, I press the head of my cock to her entrance, slick and ready for me, and pause just long enough to kiss her again—slow, deep, claiming.
Then I push forward slowly. Just the head. She gasps, nails digging into my shoulders, and I kiss her to swallow the sound. Her mouth opens under mine, soft and trembling, and I take my time, easing another inch inside, then another.
Her body clings to me, pulling me deeper, stretching around me until every nerve in my body is lit. I hold her hips tight, grounding us both, because if I let go, I’d lose myself too fast.
“Eddie . . .” she whispers, voice shaking.
“I’m here,” I breathe against her lips. “Only you and me.”
I rock my hips forward, inch by inch, dragging it out until I’m buried inside her, completely surrounded by her warmth. My chest presses to hers, her breasts crushed against me, her heartbeat pounding in rhythm with mine.
We don’t move for a moment. We just breathe into each other’s mouths, lost in the stretch, the closeness, the way we fit together like we were meant to.
Her hands frame my face, trembling, and she pulls me down into a kiss—slow, aching, like she’s trying to carve me into her memory, as if she’s terrified I’ll slip away the second she lets go.
I kiss her back with the same desperation, pouring everything I can’t say into the press of my mouth, into the way my tongue slides against hers. Every broken piece of me, every secret I’ve buried, every please don’t leave me I’ve never spoken—I give it to her in that kiss.
And then I move.
Long, slow thrusts that bind us together, each one sinking me deeper, not just into her body but into her soul. It’s not fucking. It’s not even claiming. It’s me trying to exist inside her, to find proof that I belong somewhere. That I belong to her.
“Eddie,” she moans, her forehead resting against mine, her voice cracking like she’s as undone as I am. “Don’t stop.”
Her plea tears me open.
“I won’t,” I whisper, my throat tight, my chest burning as I drive deeper, filling her, holding her like she’s the only thing tethering me to this world. “Not now. Not ever.”
Every slow thrust feels like a prayer I don’t deserve to whisper. Her warmth surrounds me, pulls me in, and for a heartbeat, I believe this moment could stretch forever. Her lips ghost over mine between breaths, and every kiss is another vow I never knew how to make until her.
She sighs into me, her nails tracing along my back—not clawing, not desperate yet, just touching, as if she’s mapping every ridge of me, as if she’s afraid I’ll disappear if she doesn’t memorize me.
“I can feel you everywhere,” she breathes, and it unravels me.
“Good,” I murmur against her mouth. “I want you to. I want . . . all of you to know me.”
My hips roll slowly, deliberately, pushing deeper with each pass, keeping her body pinned against mine.
We move together in silence broken only by her soft moans and the unsteady rhythm of our breathing.
It’s not about release. Not yet. It’s about staying here, inside her, close enough that nothing else can touch us.
Her eyes meet mine, glossy and unguarded, and the look in them nearly breaks me. Because she’s letting me see her—completely, beautifully bare.
I press my forehead to hers, kissing her softly, swallowing her every gasp. “You feel like home,” I confess, the words slipping free before I can stop them.
Her fingers cradle my jaw, her lips trembling against mine as she whispers, “Then don’t ever leave.”
I thrust slowly again, her body clutching me tighter, her voice mingling with mine until I can’t tell where I end and she begins.
Tender. Perfect. Fragile.
And yet, with every movement, I can feel the heat beginning to build—low and insistent, like fire smoldering beneath the quiet.
I stay buried deep, moving inside her slowly, my forehead pressed to hers. Every sound she makes slides straight into me. Every sigh, every tremor. It’s so soft I almost forget how badly it hurt when she walked away the first time.
But I don’t forget.
My thumb strokes along her jaw as I keep my hips rolling in that slow, careful rhythm. “Look at me,” I whisper. “Please.”
Her eyes flutter open, glassy and wide.
“You left once.” My voice cracks. “I let you go. I didn’t fight you. But don’t . . . don’t do that again. Not to me. Not to us.” My fingers slip into her hair, holding her face close to mine. “Promise me you’ll stay. Promise me you’ll let me and Barret love you. All of you. No more running.”
Her breath catches against my mouth. “Eddie . . .”
“Say it.” I thrust a little deeper, still slow but firmer, making her feel every inch. “Tell me you’ll stay. Tell me you’ll let us love you.”
Her hands cup my face, trembling. “I promise,” she whispers. “I’ll stay. I’ll let you both love me. I’m not going anywhere.”
Something inside me loosens, breaks. A low sound rumbles from my throat as I kiss her hard, swallowing the words, sealing them against her lips.
The pace changes without thinking. My hips roll deeper, faster, still holding her close but now each thrust carrying a little more heat, a little more want. She moans into my mouth, gripping my shoulders as I start to move with more intent, still inside her promise, still inside her.
“Good,” I murmur against her lips, voice rough. “Now hold on to me.”
And then I drive into her again, the tenderness curling into hunger, the rhythm building under us as her body opens to mine. This time I won’t let her go.