Chapter 8 #3
I eat her out the way I like at first, licking every fold and torturing her by not acknowledging her swollen clit. Lana growls, tugging my hair to steer me into the direction she wants me to go.
“Something wrong?” I smirk and look up through my lashes. When she looks down at me, I finally circle her clit with my tongue.
“Christian,” she cries, burying my face into her pussy. “Fuck, please.”
I give her everything she wants. I’ll give her anything she wants. Always.
It doesn’t take much else other than pushing my two middle fingers into her, feeling her tighten around me. I groan against her clit. “You’re so wet, baby. Is this all for me?”
She whimpers, nodding frantically. Her moans are breathier and that’s how I know she’s so close. “Christian,” she breathes, her chest rising and falling faster.
I fucking love the way she says my name, it’s like she erases everything bad that came with it when I was born and writes it a new story. A new definition and a happier pronunciation.
She’s pulling my hair harder now and we’re almost at my favorite part—where I make her come and I keep going to overstimulate her. To keep tasting her and having her and pushing her over that edge again until she’s screaming and pushing my head away.
“Christian,” she pants. “I’m— I’m gonna—”
I peel her off the wall and lower her to the floor.
She groans loudly, bucking her hips before I’m between her legs again and she’s pulling me back down.
My tongue moves over her again and again, repeating my ministrations while licking her leisurely for my own pleasure as I curl my fingers inside her.
My other hand pushes the t-shirt up, exposing her breasts for me. My thumb brushes her nipple and her breath hitches, her hands a second away from ripping my hair out.
“Christian,” she whimpers, her body twisting and going rigid, her hips bucking and closing tight over my ears. “Fuck. Shit, I’m coming. Christian—”
Her body bows off the floor and I watch her mouth drop open, heavy breaths coming out of her until she’s crying out my names and writhing around. Her thighs twitch, pressing my ears into my head, and when she comes back down, she’s now trying to push me away.
“Christian,” Lana begs, her hands pushing down on my head. This is my favorite part. With my hands at the back of her knees, I push her legs up to her chest and hold them open. “Christian, fuck.”
Lana is crying out, her moans, squeals, and screams echoing around me—and she comes one more time before I relent and lower her legs. She pants as I kiss up and down her inner thighs. I kiss her hip bones, her stomach, her ribcage, between her breasts, and I lower her shirt.
Her eyes are closed once I’m over her and between her legs, her head to the side like she might be asleep. I kiss her neck softly, once, and then another because I can’t help myself.
Everything about me…
Whatever good thing there is about me is because of her. Everything good about me was made by her—crafted and molded and shaped, all of it by her hand.
Since I’m human, I kiss her neck again and let my head rest there for a moment, until she comes back from her orgasm haze and tells me to get off and go away. Until she tells me that she should have never let me in to sleep in her guest room and that she hates me.
“Christian,” Lana says, and I hear it all in her voice already.
I close my burning eyes to keep the emotion to myself tonight. Later, I’ll sit with it and sort it out.
“Christian?”
“Not yet,” I beg. “Please.”
She pauses before she murmurs, “Sixty seconds.”
I tell myself to count, but I don’t even care, I’ll take whatever she wants to give me. When I finally pull back, I’m not sure if I’m early or late because her eyes are peacefully closed and I don’t know if she’s been counting either. I kneel between her legs and reach for her clothes.
Her eyes open slowly when I lower her legs and pull her shorts back up. She lifts her hips and I settle them around her waist. I lower the shirt to cover her chest again but I pause to kiss above her belly button—just for myself.
“Christian…”
I shake my head. I stand and help her up, and I can’t figure out what she’s thinking or wants to say, I only know what’s in my head. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Scratching the back of my head, I grab my bags and turn down the small hallway.
I open the door to the guest room and don’t look back.
I can’t look back because I don’t know what I’ll do if I look at her now.
I’ll probably just do something reckless like go back and grab her and bring her to bed with me so I can hold her.
Since I took a shower at the gym before coming back to her driveway, I strip down to my boxer briefs. I get in under the comforter, sighing at the feel of her mattress and soft sheets, and finally being able to sleep like this again.
“Christian?”
The door opens and I sit up. “What’s wrong?”
Lana shakes her head and steps in, closing the door behind her. She shifts on her feet, her smooth, olive legs glowing from the moonlight pouring in, and she pushes hair behind her ears.
I move to sit at the edge of the bed and she walks toward the side I’m on, standing in front of me. “What’s wrong, Lana?”
Her lips part and I hear the way her breath hitches. Then she takes a step closer, her eyes roaming over my body. She continues toward me until she stops between my opened legs.
“You walked away from me,” she whispers.
“I had to.”
“You didn’t,” Lana says, standing between my knees and putting a hand on my cheek.
“I did.”
“Why?”
“I want you, Lana,” I confess. “I want you and I miss you and I need you and when I touch you, I don’t want to let you go.”
She lightly scratches at the stubble around my jaw. “You didn’t have to walk away.”
“I did. You deserve better from me.”
“I do,” she agrees. Lana looks into my eyes, her hands gripping my thighs as she lowers herself onto her knees. “But at least let me return the favor.”
I shake my head and grab her hand, putting it over my heart. “It wasn’t a favor. And I don’t need repaying.”
“Christian—”
“That was more for me than it was for you,” I tell her.
“I lied,” she says. “It isn’t repayment. It’s just me, on my knees, wanting to suck your dick.”
My eyes widen and she giggles. “Lana…”
Her playfulness fades and she purrs my name. “Christian.”
Lana’s hands run up my thighs, making me twitch, before she runs them up my stomach and chest. They come back down and her fingers trace the outline of my erection.
I groan, wanting her more than anything, but I clasp her hand. “Lana, I don’t need… I can take care of it myself. There is nothing to repay.”
She doesn’t listen, she doesn’t care.
I release her hand and, calling my bluff, she kisses my thigh. I lick my lips and lean back on my hands. She kisses my other thigh and her fingers curl at the waistband of my boxers, tugging them down.
Lana moans when she frees my cock from its constraints and her hand wraps around me tightly. Her big caramel eyes look at me through her lashes and I forget how to breathe. Her eyes are on mine as she presses a kiss to the swollen head before she welcomes it between her lips.
“Fuck, Lana.”
She moans and my hand goes to her hair, brushing it with my fingers and holding it back gently. A memory comes back to me of that time we tried hair pulling and how badly she hated it.
“What’s funny?” Her hands move around me.
I chuckle and shake my head. My hand cups her jaw and I bend to kiss her lips, stealing one. Then she steals one for herself, her hands stroking my dick while she does it.
She pulls back and her mouth is around me again, bobbing up and down. She’s spitting and gagging, her hands moving in tandem, and my entire body tenses for a moment, pleasure building in my veins.
I love how much she loves this. However, she doesn’t love it more than I love giving her every ounce of pleasure I can give, in any way. I’d bury my face between her legs for hours on end, every day if she let me.
But, fuck, she looks gorgeous.
I hold her hair back gently again, and moan. “Lana, baby, fuck.”
Lana moans around me, looking me in the eye, and takes me to the back of her throat while I come. “Fuuuck,” I grunt, and she’s moaning happily, looking up at me with a smile on her lips around my cock.
I fucking love her, I swear. She’s going to be the death of me and it’s a perfect way to die.
Lana waits until I collapse, the arm holding me up trembling, and then she pulls away. She licks me one more time and wipes the corners of her mouth. She braces her hands on my thighs and stands between my legs. Leaning forward, she kisses my cheek and says, “Goodnight, Christian.”
I look at myself in the mirror. Split lips, blood dried and crusted under my nostrils, bruises all around my face, and a wicked black eye. I don’t have to take off my shirt to know what it looks like under there. It happened again last night and I swear I didn’t mean for it to happen. It just…did.
I overdid it.
And Lana is going to kill me.
I can still smell it all over me.
I want to blame it on my dad, but I can’t do that every time.
He punched me last night. Threw a glass bottle at my head.
“You’re a worthless piece of shit running around with the help while I’m trying to get you out of this stupid town,” he shouted in my face.
“I worked my fucking ass off to build this company from the bottom and you’re embarrassing me with that bottom feeding whore!
She’s an orphan with no one and no money. She has nothing to give you!”
When it comes to Lana, no one talks about her like that ever. Ever. So I punched him first. Then he punched me back. Again and again until I was down on the floor, and he kicked me. Spat on me.
I did the only thing I know how to do. I took his good alcohol and drank all of it until I thought I was dead. And now I’m here.
The bathroom door squeaks open. “Christian?”
My hands tighten around the sink and I let my head hang between my shoulders. I know she has seen my face when she gasps. “Christian!”
Her hands touch my back and I wince. “Christian, let me see.”
I shake my head.
“Christian, please, let me check.”
I sniff, my nose aching. I release the sink from my torture and keep my head down as I move to sit on the toilet. “Please,” I rasp. “Don’t freak out.”
Lana scoffs. “That’s a dumb thing to ask of me, Christian.”
I don’t look up at her yet, so she comes closer to step between my knees. She puts her hands on my shoulders, and the softness, the gentle touch, makes my eyes sting with tears. I’ve never felt a love like hers, ever. No one has ever hugged me or kissed me or loved me like her.
And I know, like this, I’m going to lose everything if I don’t get my shit together.
Her delicate hands move to the nape of my neck and her nails scratch in my hair. “Look at me, Christian.”
I blink away tears, letting them fall to the floor before I look up at her.
Her gasp gets stuck in her throat. It’s a thing she does when she tries not to make a big deal about this, it isn’t the first time I come home like this. Her mouth opens and closes like she’s going to say something, but nothing comes out.
Instead, Lana frowns and everything around her caramel eyes redden. Slowly, she lowers herself onto her knees and puts her hands on my thighs.“Oh, Christian. Baby,” she cries. “I…”
Her fingers wrap around the hem of my t-shirt and she says, “Arms up.”
She already knows what she’s going to find. We’ve done this before. I hiss and wince as she pulls the shirt off my body, and I hear the tiny gasp. That tiny gasp always kills me. Then the crying that comes after it too.
Lana stands again. She goes through our medicine cabinet and the small first aid kit under our sink.
She moves easily, knowing where everything is.
Muscle memory. She opens the little plastic box, sniffling.
I know she can’t see because I can barely see her eyes beneath the tears covering them entirely.
A tear slips as she opens an alcohol pad and I hear the choke in her throat.
This is the part I hate.
“Baby,” I husk and she gives out.
Her hands grab onto the sink and she’s lowering to the ground in slow motion. “I can’t,” she sobs. “I’m—I—I’m sorry. I hate him. I hate him so much.”
“I know, baby,” I cry with her. “Me too. Come here. I need you.”
Lana takes a few measured deep breaths and comes back to me, clutching the alcohol pads in her fist. She helps herself up onto her feet again with her hands on my knees and my hands cup the backs of her thighs. I feel them tremble under my touch and I want to take her away.
I want to take us away somewhere far and safe and quiet. I want to buy her that lake house she’s always dreamed about so we can watch the sun rise and set, everyday. Together. I want to build her a reading room with shelves and a ladder and big windows to let the sunlight in.
I want to make her smile and happy.
Lana swallows audibly and she wipes an alcohol pad over the cut on my lip. I hiss and she whispers shakily, “I swear, I’m gonna kill him.”
“Baby, please, just—”
“This has to stop. We can call the police, we can—”
“We can’t, Lana.”
“We can!”
I shake my head, hiccuping. “Come here,” I rasp. “I just need you right now, please, baby.”
I pull her to me and wrap my arms around her body tightly, burying my head into her stomach. “Christian,” she sobs.
Her fingers tangle in my hair and she just holds me to her body, letting me cry.