Chapter 35
Thirty-Five
Storm
She’s here.
I know it before I fully open my eyes, before I tighten my arms and draw the warm weight of her body more firmly against mine.
“Storm,” she murmurs drowsily, burying her face in my chest.
“I’m here, Poppyseed.”
A soft sigh, her body pressing closer.
“I missed you.” Her words are still quiet, still sleepy.
“I’ve been here all night, baby.”
“No. I missed you these last years. Wished you were here like this a thousand times.” She laughs and the gentle sound is sunshine and rainbows and happiness and hope. “Okay, well, maybe not when Sully was living with us.”
I grin, kiss the top of her head. “Yeah, as much as my ego doesn’t like it, I think Sully could have taken me.”
Another laugh and then she’s relaxing against me, her fingers tracing absent patterns on my chest.
I like it, like the way it feels to have her in my arms—
No, I love it.
Love her.
I smooth my hand up and down her back, knowing it’s too soon to tell her.
I need to regain her trust, need to prove to her that I’m not going away, that I’m going to deal with my shit.
I exhale, reach for the confidence I had last night.
It’s slippery, hard to grasp on to, especially when my gaze drifts to the bedside table, to the drawer that currently houses my dad’s letter, but then Poppy arches up, brushes her lips along the bottom of my jaw.
“I’m glad you’re here.”
Suddenly, I’m not thinking about the letter or light fixtures that would have pissed off my dad. I’m not thinking about lost years and regrets and things I need to make up for.
I’m just…feeling.
How right it is to be exactly here.
How I’m not going to let it go.
“Should we get up?” I ask after a few minutes. “Make Holly breakfast?”
“Hmm,” she murmurs, her lips brushing my jaw again. “I think I have a better idea.”
And I go hard.
Just like that.
Yeah, it’s morning.
But mostly it’s Poppy and her lush body, her lips on my skin, her hands trailing over my flesh…and the memory of exactly how good it is to taste every part of her.
“I have a better one,” I tell her, flipping her to her back and rolling over the top of her.
“Storm!” she gasps, her green eyes flaring.
“No?” I ask.
Heat sliding into her gaze. “I didn’t say that.” She runs her hands down my chest. “Kiss me.”
I bend, slant my mouth over hers.
And groan.
God, nothing tastes any better, not even one of her Storm Warnings.
Her lips part and then it gets even better, our lips melding, tongues tangling. She’s all soft curves and tender hands…at least until I release her mouth, kiss my way down the column of her throat.
Then the fingers of her uninjured hand weave into my hair, tug sharply enough to make my scalp sting.
But I take the silent message for what it is.
I backtrack to the spot, nip lightly and get another sharp tug.
My lips curve. “Like that, baby?”
Her only answer is to tug again…then moan when I suckle at the spot, her body bucking against mine.
I keep kissing that sensitive patch of skin, but I let my hands run wild.
Along her sides, dipping beneath the thin tank top she wore to bed. Over silky skin, up to the plump curves of her breasts.
She moans again when I trace the underside.
“Good?” I ask.
A jerky nod.
“Have I told you how much I love the sound of your moans?”
“N-no?”
“Hmm.” I nip at her throat again, drag a finger up, circling the hard bud of her nipple.
“Storm,” she groans.
So do I.
“Hell, Poppyseed. You saying my name like that may be even better.”
“I—”
But I take advantage of her parted lips and taste her again, doing it deeply this time. So that when I roll her nipple between thumb and forefinger, I get that moan on my tongue. She wraps her leg over my hip, rocks her pelvis against mine.
I release her breast, slide my hand down and cup her ass, massaging the delicious globe and drawing her flush against me, matching her slow and steady rocking, leisurely driving us both insane.
“I can’t wait to be inside you again,” I rasp, grinding against her. “I can’t wait to feel you clamping around me, all hot and wet and slick.”
Her head drops back, cheeks flushed, lips swollen.
But she doesn’t tell me to stop.
In fact, she gives me the best gift of all—another moaned-out, “Storm.”
My dick is so damned hard it hurts, and my balls ache. I want to be inside her so fucking badly, it’s almost all I can think about.
It’s been so long.
She’s so fucking beautiful, so sexy, so close to the edge already.
It won’t take long to coax her over, to feel her tightening around my dick—
Slow. Easy.
She deserves more, deserves care and pleasure and patience.
So even though I want to tear off our clothes and thrust into her like a wild fucking animal until my orgasm tears through me, I grit my teeth, yank at the reins of my control, and focus on her, on what she likes.
The gentle touches and even pressure.
Deep kisses and dirty words.
She moans, her head writhing on the pillows, her hips bucking against mine.
“Maybe I’ll keep torturing you like this,” I murmur. “Keep getting you close to the edge and then stopping”—I put words to action—“waiting until you’re begging for more.” I bend so my lips are against hers. “Would you beg for my cock, baby?”
“Maybe,” she says, weaving her uninjured hand in my hair again, stopping me when I start to pull back, “I’ll be the one to torture you.”
“Mmm.” I kiss her deeply, only draw away when we’re both breathing heavy. “How would you torture me?”
“Maybe I’d tie you up,” she says.
“Yeah?” I ask.
She nods.
“I’d be down if it meant I could do the same to you.”
Wide green eyes. Shocked green eyes.
I grin.
“You’d l-let me tie y-you up?” she stammers.
I press forward, grinding up, sneaking my hand in so I can cup her breast fully this time.
She gasps.
“Yeah, baby. If you return the favor.” And already even the thought of her naked and restrained, that gorgeous body mine to do with what I want…
Yeah, we’re so doing that.
“What would you do to me if I was tied up?” I ask, rocking faster now, massaging her breast, rubbing my thumb over her nipple.
She jolts, her legs tightening around my hips.
But though her eyes are hazy, she doesn’t back down from the challenge. “I never got to taste your cock.”
I jerk, thrusting hard enough against her to make her gasp.
But before I can ask if she’s okay, she says, “Do that again.”
As if I could deny her anything.
I repeat the movement. “You’d want my cock in your mouth, baby?”
She gasps again, but her eyes blaze as they connect with mine. “So deep I’d have to swallow you down. So deep I’d feel you in the back of my throat for days—Storm!”
Her words have my hand convulsing around her breast, and maybe I’d worry about exactly how hard, but she’s jerking up against me, her legs tightening around my middle, her body going taut, taut, taut—
And then she moans and goes limp, pleasure radiating through her face, her eyes, her limbs.
She collapses against the mattress, chest heaving.
“Oh…my…God,” she groans. “That was…”
I smooth back her sweaty hair, press my lips against hers. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Her mouth tips up at the edges. “Charmer.”
“Truth-teller,” I counter.
“Okay,” she says after several long moments, her breathing finally returning to normal. “Your turn.” She sits up, reaches for my cock…
Right as we hear—
“Mom! I’m hungry!”