Chapter 45 #2
I pull my mouth from her neck and watch as she releases the clasp and reveals the curves of the undersides of her breasts.
If I thought the slow strip tease out of her blouse and shorts was erotic, it has nothing on the deliberately slow exposure of her pale skin and rose-pink areolas. Her nipples are large and hard and perfect. My mouth is on her before I can tell her how beautiful she is.
I suck. Hard. And Bess makes a noise like "Mmmf" and then "Unnn", and those tiny noises she's making because of me is unbelievably heady. I am lightheaded with rapture.
I switch to the other nipple, sliding my tongue over it and around it before tugging it gently with my teeth.
Bess grips my hair and with each nip and suck, her hands tighten and release. The pain of it feels good. It's a distraction from the desperate throbbing of my dick.
Bess pulls herself out of reach and places a hungry kiss on my mouth while her hands drop to my belt and work to unbuckle it.
It's too slow and I move my hands from her breasts to help her, but she slaps them away, so I slide them beneath the fabric of her underwear to clasp her buttocks.
I knead them and then my belt is off and I jerk at the pressure of her fingers against my dick, undoing the clasp at the top of the flies.
Bess pulls her head away to watch as she pulls down the zip.
My cock, freed from the confines of my trousers springs forth, pressing against the fabric of my boxers. Where the material stretches against the head, a small wet patch appears.
Her breath catches and I want so bad to touch her core, but Bess palms me and I can't concentrate on anything else. She skims the front of my shaft and spreads her fingers down and over my balls, before dragging her hand back up again.
Heat pools in my groin and a succession of tingles race over my skin in the wake of her touch, before shooting up my spine.
I am overwhelmed with need. Need to feel her. To taste her. To hear her pleasure. To have every part of me touching every part of her. To be in her.
I lever myself upwards enough to twist us around and deposit Bess on the bed. I seek her mouth and grind into her. Both of us groan.
She feels so good beneath me. Her breasts pressed against my chest, the heat of her centre against the heat of mine.
I manage three rolls of the hips before I need to stop and gather myself.
I pant into her neck and pull her thigh up and over my hip so I can slide my hand up it and feel the curve of her buttock, her hip, her waist, her ribs, the softness of her breast, her collarbone. And all the way back down again.
Bess' hands and fingernails are doing their own mapping of my skin, leaving little trails of sparks in their wake. Eventually she reaches my waistband and slips her hands inside my boxers to caress my buttocks.
I lift my hips so she can slide the fabric down and over, and before I can lower them again, her hand is wrapped around me.
Everything stops.
I can't breathe.
All my awareness is distilled down to that singular point of contact.
I manage a shaky inhale. And then, "Fuck. Bess."
When she pulls her hand towards the tip and runs her thumb over it, every nerve ending fires into life with such violence I hiss involuntarily.
And then her hand is gone. She slides it up my ribs, over my shoulder and down my arm to clasp my wrist. She tugs and I shift my weight off it so she can guide it to her own waistband.
Then she releases me, licks her palm and puts her hand back on my dick with a smile. Which is an invitation to remove it.
So I do.
I slip my fingers beneath the damp fabric of her underwear and brush them lightly over her flesh.
She gasps and her hand squeezes my cock.
I run a finger down one fold and up the other and circle her clit once before sliding it down the wet heat of her slit and back up again.
Bess' eyes are closed, her mouth parted. Her pulse drums in her neck.
When I run my finger over her clit the second time, she arches her back and I need to see her do that with my head between her legs.
I pull myself out of her grasp and trail my tongue down her body, my fingers still teasing her. She wriggles and gasps and emits tiny groans beneath me and right now it feels like the best thing I've ever done in my entire life. To make Bess helpless with pleasure.
When I reach her knickers, I run my tongue up the entire length of her centre and suck on her clit through the fabric.
Her hands are back in my hair, clenching and releasing.
Then I pull her pants down her thighs and all of her is revealed to me. She smells incredible and I don't want to keep teasing her. I want to give her everything. I want to taste and feel everything.
When I cover her clit with my mouth and slip my finger inside her, she obliges my unspoken desire and arches her back. It looks glorious. She is glorious.
I press against her G spot and slide my tongue in slow upward strokes.
"Fuck," Bess says, and, "Yes," and, "Oh."
I increase my rhythm, then pull back to flick the tip of my tongue against her and when Bess says, "Oh my God," I know she's on the way to coming apart.
She slides her hands under my jaw and lifts me away from her. "Where are your condoms? I need one on you within the next thirty seconds or I'll explode."
"Bedside cabinet."
She rolls over to retrieve one and I pull off my trousers and boxers.
Tearing the small packet open with her teeth, she hands me the slippery condom and I kneel between her legs and roll it on.
I look up at her.
She looks hungry.
But I still have to ask. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm fucking sure. Get in me right fucking now, Ed, or I won't be responsible for my actions."
So...
I get in her.
Her heat breaks over my cock as I slowly slide in and my eyelids momentarily flutter closed.
I open them and watch her watching me, our faces an inch apart, sucking in each other's small expulsions of air. And then I'm in as far as I can go and both of us are panting as if we've sprinted a hundred yards.
"Are you okay?" I ask her.
She smiles and strokes my face. "Nobody has ever asked me that before at this point in proceedings." She kisses me. "You are exceptionally lovely, Ed Chakrabarti."
"Really?" How any man wouldn't think this is definitely a check-in point, I don't understand.
Bess slaps me on the arse. "Now get moving. I've got a year-long orgasm drought to remedy."
I reach for a pillow and slide it under her to give her the angle she needs if I'm going to help her remedy her orgasm drought in this position, and then I'm pushing into her.
I grunt.
Bess gasps.
I do it again and press my mouth against hers.
"God you feel good," she whispers against my lips.
On the next thrust, she rises up to meet me and the point of collision is so...deliciously...sweet.
"Faster," Bess says.
I speed up my rhythm and with her heels pressed into the mattress, Bess is able to match my pace. Her hands slide from my back to my buttocks and press in time with each thrust to urge me on. I happily meet her demands.
The descent from a lazy push and pull into frenzy is so fast, I know without a doubt this is going to be over for both of us very quickly.
Bess mews on every shuddering end-point of each thrust and when I make no sound outside of my ragged breathing, she says, "Let me hear you. I want to hear you."
So I groan with each flick of my hips.
"Fuck yes," says Bess. "Louder."
If hearing my pleasure is what she needs, I'm happy to give it to her. I cry out and it feels good to add that release to the exquisite tension in my body, to the pressure mounting in my centre.
Bess matches my volume with her keening, and the noises coming out of us are non-sensical and full of want and pleading.
Her fingers dig into my lower back as her cries rise in pitch. I know she's going to come, but she tells me anyway and falls apart a moment later with devastating force. A flush rises up her body and she throws her head back, shuddering beneath me.
I place my mouth on her neck and as she contracts around my cock and loses all control, I can't hold myself back any longer.
Pressure builds to tipping point in my groin, and then breaks. The release is so fierce, I can't help but roar at the intensity of it. It pulses through me, chased by a swell of ecstasy that recedes into a deep loosening of everything.
I collapse and pant into Bess' neck.
She puts her hands on either side of my face and pulls me up to look at her before she kisses me. It is tender and loving and I don't want to move. I don't want to pull myself away from being this close to her after what we just shared.
But I also don't want her to struggle to breathe.
Reluctantly, I roll off her and out of her and the air of the room rushes in to cool the sweat on my skin.
Bess watches me, breathing heavily through a large smile. "That was..."
I beam back at her. "Yeah. It was." So much better than anything I could and have imagined.
Outside, a car drives past and someone mows their lawn before dinner. Ordinary life somehow continues outside this bedroom when something extraordinary has just happened, and is, I think, still happening inside it.
I don't think I've ever been happier.
Bess runs a hand through my chest hair and eventually breaks our silence. "Thank you for telling me. I know it was one of the hardest things you've ever done."
I don't say anything for a moment. "Courage is not one of my strongest traits."
"It's a pretty big thing to reveal to someone. It means making yourself incredibly vulnerable."
"Yeah," I whisper.
Bess lifts her head to look at me. "If I hadn't have spotted the painting, would you have told me?"
“I was going to. In the cemetery today. And then you laughed at the idea of us being romantically involved and I didn’t think there was a point.”
Bess is quiet for a moment. “Oh, Ed. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what I was thinking or feeling then. It was very much confused laughter.”
I pull her down back into the crook of my shoulder. “I know,” I say softly. “You had quite a lot to process.”
She gives a small laugh and follows it up with a sigh. “So much. It’s been quite a month.”
“Indeed it has.” I lay my hand over the one she's placed on my chest and after several breaths, I say, "You can make another sculpture. With real letters this time."
"No. Those letters are just for you and me. I have no desire to exploit your emotions like that. I shouldn't have made one the first time around."
Even with her acknowledgement of it, I'm still vulnerable. She knows exactly how I feel about her, but I have little idea as to how small or large her feelings about me are and I need to know.
"When did you start –" I search for a suitably benign word, aiming for the lowest hanging fruit so I can work my way up. "– fancying me?"
Bess takes a deep breath and exhales with a sigh, which is only marginally alarming. "I don't know. I mean, I know the moment I realised it, but I don't know when my subconscious made the decision."
"Was it at the auction?"
"No. It was when I told you the sculpture wasn't you – at the library the day after everyone said A Lettered Man looked like you. I had to check if there was something there and when I saw you sitting at your desk, doing something totally mundane, I knew."
I grin. "You thought me typing an email was sexy?" Deepening my voice, I say, "With my masculine fingers and my powerful keystrokes."
She laughs. "I think it had more to do with just seeing you. You could have been trimming your nasal hair and my body would have reacted."
"Really?" I say thoughtfully. "I mean, I'm a librarian. Universally recognised as the single hottest profession after shirtless firefighters. It was only a matter of time."
"It could be that." She laces her fingers with mine. "Or it could be because you make me laugh, and you're kind, and smart, and don't suffer fools, and you listen and understand, and you make me laugh."
"You already said that."
She smiles. "I particularly like that trait." Extracting her hand, she traces my eyebrow. "I miss you when you're not around, Ed. It's...turned into something of an ache recently."
I kiss her. Very softly. And when she whispers, "I love you," against my lips, a molten warmth pumps into my veins with every beat of my heart.
This.
This is undoubtedly the moment I'm the happiest I've ever been.