Chapter 20
Monica woke slowly, feeling better than she could remember feeling in a very long time. It wasn’t until she felt someone’s hand caressing her thigh that she realized she wasn’t alone, and everything came back in a rush.
Shane. The boat. Baker showing up. Shane being burned alive by lava. Stuart. The ride up to the chopper. Grabbing Stuart’s hand.
Him saying he loved her, and Monica returning the words.
Opening her eyes, she looked over at the clock. It was almost eleven. She never slept this late, but then again, she hadn’t fallen asleep until almost daybreak.
“Good morning,” Stuart said in a deep, rumbly voice.
“Morning,” Monica said, stretching experimentally. Yup, she felt surprisingly good, considering all that had happened. Her movements jostled Stuart’s hand, and she felt his fingertips against her sensitive inner thigh.
“You feel okay? How are your feet?”
It was hard to take stock of her body with Stuart touching her like he was, but she did her best to concentrate. She was a little sore, but her feet felt all right. “I’m great,” she told him. “And lying here, my feet feel fine. Ask me again once I’m upright.”
He nodded, and his hand shifted once more, sliding between her legs, almost touching her where she needed him most.
“Stuart?”
“Hmmmm?” he murmured.
When his fingers only teased, and his thumb caressed her inner thigh, Monica shifted impatiently. “Are you gonna touch me already or what?”
His gaze came up to meet hers. “You want that?”
“Yes.” Her answer was short and to the point.
“I love you,” he said, his gaze pinning her in place.
“I love you too,” she told him. The words fell off her lips without hesitation.
The small smile that crossed his face was worth all the angst she’d been through recently. Her world had transformed in a way she never could’ve predicted, but she wouldn’t change anything about what had happened to her if it meant she’d end up right here, right now, with Stuart.
Without breaking eye contact, his hand finally moved to where she wanted it. His fingertips brushed lightly over her sex, but the barrier of her underwear kept her from feeling too much.
Without a word, she reached down and pushed the elastic over her hips, lifting her ass off the bed and doing her best to shove the material down. Stuart was no help whatsoever. He just watched as she struggled to take off her underwear.
“Some help here?” she asked.
His hands brushed hers away and he ever so slowly peeled the cotton down her legs, never once taking his eyes off hers. It was startlingly seductive, and by the time she kicked her panties off, Stuart’s hand was back between her legs.
The T-shirt she was wearing was rucked up around her waist, leaving her bare and open to his fingers. He shifted, moving down her body until he was lying between her legs. His gaze was no longer fixed on her face—it was now entirely focused on her pussy.
For some reason, Monica thought Stuart would be gentle, especially the first time they made love. She hadn’t even expected him to go down on her, but she definitely wasn’t going to complain.
When he grabbed her thighs and roughly shoved them open, Monica couldn’t help but gasp.
That got his attention. His fingers squeezed her bare thighs for a moment before she saw his jaw tighten. “Sorry,” he muttered, his thumbs brushing back and forth over her sensitive skin as if in apology.
“You just surprised me,” she said.
Stuart took a deep breath, then said, “I’m so turned on, I’m not sure how gentle I can be.”
With any other man, Monica might pull back, try to slow things down. But this was Stuart—and she trusted him. It was a heady feeling. She reached down and ran her fingers through his hair. “I don’t need gentle. I won’t break.”
As if her words were all he needed to hear, his hands tightened around her thighs once more and he scooted forward a little, putting his mouth right over her soaking-wet pussy. “If it gets to be too much, all you have to do is tell me,” Stuart said.
Monica nodded and opened her mouth to tell him that she trusted him, but she never got the chance. All that came out was a strangled umph, because he’d dropped his head and was eating her out as if she were a four-course meal—and he was ravenous.
He held her pussy lips open with his thumbs and proceeded to drive her crazy. He was rough, frenzied, but she felt every single lick down to her toes. When he latched his mouth over her clit and sucked, she almost came off the bed.
“Stuart!” she cried, latching onto his hair. She felt him smile against her sensitive skin, but he didn’t stop what he was doing. His hands stroked her thighs as he feasted. That was the only word Monica could find to describe how enthusiastically and energetically he was eating her out.
It wasn’t long before she felt an orgasm welling up inside her. But then he moved his mouth from her clit to tongue her opening. It felt good, but she was still disappointed. She groaned. “I was so close,” she complained breathily.
“I know,” Stuart said. She heard the humor in his voice.
“Stuart,” she complained.
“Patience,” he said, his warm breath against skin that didn’t often see the light of day making her shiver. “I’m gonna make you come, Mo. I can’t wait to see you explode in my arms.”
He shifted one hand so his fingertip brushed over her clit. She jolted at even that light touch.
“So sensitive,” he murmured. Then his finger dropped lower, and instead of gently easing it inside, he thrust into her quickly.
Monica couldn’t stop the way her body rocked, tightening around the intrusion.
“Fuck yeah, just like that,” Stuart said. Then he proceeded to fuck her with that one finger. It felt good but wasn’t nearly enough.
“More,” Monica pleaded.
This time, he didn’t deny her. He added another finger and continued to fuck her. Monica’s hips came up to meet his hand each time, and she could hear how wet she was as his fingers entered and retreated from her body.
Then he stopped moving, letting his fingers still inside her. Monica squirmed, still wanting more. But Stuart seemed to know what she needed better than she did. He leaned down and placed his mouth over her clit.
Again, he didn’t start out easy; he sucked hard. Monica bucked and writhed, but he held her easily with his free hand as he very quickly brought her to the brink.
“I’m close!” she gasped, not sure why she was telling him. He had to know; her legs were shaking and it felt like every muscle in her body tensed as she neared the precipice.
Stuart didn’t respond verbally, but she felt the fingers inside her flex.
This was the most intimate she’d ever been with a man.
The most vulnerable. But instead of feeling uncomfortable, she felt…
free. She could let herself go and not worry about how she looked, how she sounded, what Stuart might think of her…
The second that thought went through her brain, Monica was coming. She bucked up violently, her ass coming off the mattress, and felt as if she’d exploded from the inside out.
She was still coming when Stuart lifted his head, removed his fingers, and crawled toward her on his hands and knees.
He wore a pair of sweats—he must’ve changed sometime before she woke—and he merely shoved the elastic down over his incredibly hard erection, leaning over to the table next to the bed.
Just as Monica had stopped shaking from the most intense orgasm she’d ever had, Stuart finished rolling a condom over his cock and was reaching for her.
Once again, she expected him to be gentle, since this was their first time. But he was anything but as he braced himself with one hand, shoved her thighs apart again, then guided his cock between her legs.
Still feeling extremely sensitive, she opened her legs even wider, welcoming him.
With one long thrust, Stuart buried himself inside her.
A small twinge of pain registered before blooming into intense pleasure.
Stuart grunted and braced his other hand next to her shoulder. He loomed over her, his eyes nearly black from the way his pupils were dilated with lust.
“Holy shit,” he breathed, before pulling back and thrusting inside her once more.
It wasn’t terribly romantic, but Monica smiled up at him anyway.
“Fuck, that dimple’s gonna kill me,” Stuart told her.
Her smile widened.
He began pounding into her in earnest, each thrust feeling better than the last, her breasts bouncing from the impact. She was soaking wet from her orgasm, and he seemed to fill every last empty spot inside her.
“Feel. So. Good,” he said, timing his quick words with his thrusts.
“So do you,” she assured him, grabbing hold of his biceps and digging her fingernails in as he fucked her. Monica closed her eyes as sensation nearly overwhelmed her.
“No. Don’t. Look at me,” Stuart ordered.
Monica never would’ve guessed he could be like this. So bossy. Demanding. He’d been nothing but gentle and patient in the past. But she liked it. A hell of a lot. Her eyes opened and she stared into the face of the man she loved as he fucked her into oblivion.
Any other time, she would’ve been embarrassed at the sounds of their rough sex, but he was making her feel so good, she didn’t care.
He was still mostly dressed in a T-shirt and sweats, and she still wore his pilfered shirt.
This wasn’t the slow and gentle lovemaking she thought she wanted.
It was intense and overwhelming and frantic…
and it was the best sex she’d ever had. She tightened her inner muscles around him and was rewarded with a groan.
He shifted above her, straightening to his knees and putting a hand under her ass, holding her tightly against him as he thrust even faster, harder. Monica gasped when he reached between them and thumbed her clit.
Once again, he didn’t ask if that was all right. Didn’t flick her clit gently. He took her exactly as he wanted, and it felt amazing.