Chapter 13 #3
I pull at his hair. “Don’t tease me, Christian.”
Then he slaps my pussy. Hard. And I gasp.
“This is payback for your teasing, Lana. For all those texts. For coming up here and locking the door when you were going to fuck yourself behind it.” Another slap. “God, I fucking love you,” Christian says, his voice deep and husky enough to my my toes curl. “Just be a good girl for me, okay?”
I whimper, nodding.
His hand slaps across my ass cheek, making me arch. “Good girl.”
“Christian,” I moan.
His left hand drifts up my stomach until he’s cupping my breast, and the other spreads me for him, just before the flat of his tongue runs up my center. “Christian,” I breathe.
If there is anything about Christian that gets to me, it’s this. The way he’s perfectly content to remain between my legs for however long he feels like, hour after hour, orgasm after orgasm, just to make out with my pussy for his own pleasure.
For years, I was convinced I’d die like this. And now, I’m beginning to think that again.
“Christian,” I sigh heavily. “Oh… Fuck, yes. Christian.”
With his hands on the backs of my thighs, he pushes my legs up and into my chest, ravishing and devouring until it’s impossible to breathe. Until my legs are trembling and that fire finally explodes.
“Christian,” I gasp. “I’m…”
A satisfied growl reverberates against me, and I’m done for. Sex with Christian has always been like this—addictive. Shattering. It is every time when we’re together like this that we break each other down to nothing and build each other back up again.
But Christian keeps breaking me down and tearing me apart.
My hands grapple at his shoulders and arms, nails scratching. “Christian, I can’t… Christian!”
He shakes his head, his tongue swirling and dipping as I try to push myself away from his mouth. “Christian.”
His hands wrap around my hips and pull me back to him. “Not yet, please,” he says, his voice hoarse.
My back bows off the bed and my head digs into the pillow. And I let him have me, I allow him this, or maybe I’m allowing this to myself, I don’t know. Either way, I want him. I want him in all the ways and I just want…
I just want to breathe him in again, no walls or restrictions.
Just him and me, and that’s it. Just the two of us existing in the same world for the rest of our lives.
Christian moans and groans, his fingers dipping inside of me as he holds me down, and doesn’t stop until he is pulling another bone breaking orgasm out of me.
I think my bones might actually be shattering, this one hitting me deep enough that I’ve forgotten how to breathe and I’m moments from passing out completely.
Then my body is limp, bones melted to nothing. Christian kisses up my stomach, across my ribs, my breasts, my clavicles, up my neck. My hands are reaching everywhere for him, tracing every inch of his skin as fast as I can. I’m in a race to see how much of him I can claim before this ends.
My hands push down at the waistband of his shorts as he whispers, “Lana.”
My eyes snap to his, and my lips part when I see his soft eyes. I whisper, “Let me.”
“It’s okay,” he whispers. “I don’t need anything.”
“What if I need it? What if I need you?”
“We made a rule.”
“A rule we’ve broken multiple times now,” I remind him, pushing his shorts down over his ass. My fingers burrow into his ass, pushing him forward between my legs. God, the muscle tone in his ass. Who has an ass like this?
“Lana,” Christian whispers. “I’ve gone four years without you. And we might have broken the rule but that doesn’t mean I’ll just fuck you because of it. I want you and me to be where we need to be. And maybe…breaking the rule was—”
“A mistake?”
“No, never,” he breathes. “Never a mistake with you. But breaking the rule…”
“I get it, I think.”
“Lana, I’ve gone four years without you and you have no idea how badly I want you—how much I need you. Being with you now feels like I’m breathing and I don’t want to mess it up.”
Tears gather at the corners of my eyes as I peer up at him, my nails tracing shapes across his back.
“I love you so much, Lana,” he says. “And I just want to give you what you deserve from me, and it’s not just sex.”
I chuckle. “I do deserve good sex though.”
He rolls his eyes, amused. “Yes, fine,” he mumbles. “But more than that from me.”
“Okay,” I breathe, frowning. “But I still need it.”
“What?”
“You,” I whisper, my hand reaching between us. I push his shorts down his front until his hard cock is heavy on my pussy. “This.”
“Lana,” he warns, his eyes smiling. “We have a date.”
“So now you’re such a gentleman?” I wrap my hand around his length and bask in the feel of him, and this.
“I’m trying to be.”
“I don’t need you to be a gentleman right now, Christian.” I stroke him hard and his hips jerk forward.
Christian groans and his forehead presses into mine. “Then what is it you need?”
“I just need to touch you,” I breathe. “I want to make you feel the way you made me feel.”
“I did feel that way,” he rasps. “I do.”
I gnaw into my lips, my eyes falling between our bodies where his thick, long cock is in my hand, so close to where I need him.
“Lana,” Christian warns again, his voice deeper than before.
I blink up at him and stop my ministrations. Not now. “Do you love me, Christian?”
“Yes, Lana,” he murmurs. “More than anything, baby. But you’re making this really hard.”
I laugh softly. “I can tell.”
Christian laughs, burying his face in my neck. “Lana.”
I laugh with him. “Okay,” I concede. “Okay.”
With his forehead on mine again, he whispers, “We should go get ready for our date.”
I swallow, my throat dry. “Okay.”
Then he kisses my lips, soft enough that I know it isn’t going any further than this tonight. And it’s fine, I’m patient. I’m horny but I’m patient for him—the man I love who’s become a better version of himself, who is trying harder than he did before.
Christian smiles as he sits back on his heels, adjusting his shorts. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”
I snort and he slides off the bed. He freezes and bends over me. “Christian.”
He kisses between my ribs. “I love you.”
Then he’s gone, smirking over his shoulder, and I lie here with a satiated smile on my face.
My leg is bouncing and I’ve been looking out the windows, scanning the streets for clues to where Christian is taking me tonight.
A heavy hand weighs down my thigh, my leg struggling to keep bouncing beneath it. “Lana,” he says quietly. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
I face him, pushing hair behind my ear. “Nothing. Just...anxious. Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise,” he says. Then he turns right and the only place that comes into view is the purple, blue, and yellow retro sign that reads, Katherine’s Diner.
“Christian?”
I gape at him, watching the way he grins as he turns into the small parking lot behind the diner. There are so many memories here, all of them good. More than half of them are with him. It’s the perfect place.
It’s the place I realized I was falling for him.
I don’t think he knows that but it was on our first date.
We sat in a corner booth for three and a half hours, and he made me laugh so much—so hard my muscles were sore by the end of it.
Then the diner was closing and it was time to go.
He was driving me home and I couldn’t keep my eyes off him.
I just…knew. Him and I would be the end.
Christian puts the car in park, and I still can’t look away.
His stubble is kept short but his hair a bit longer since he hasn’t gotten a haircut in a few weeks, and he smells absolutely devastating.
It’s one of those colognes that can make someone feel like a floating cartoon character following a scent with their nose and heart eyes.
And he smells that way all the fucking time. It’s like my kryptonite. Well, one of them. I have several when it comes to him.
“So?” He smirks.
“Katherine’s Diner?” I ask through a smile.
He has a boyish grin that makes his nose scrunch up. He barely ever smiles like that, even before. That smile is reserved for things that feel like a first trip to Disney for him. Our first trip to Disney that we always planned.
Damn him for being so fucking cute.
Christian gets out of the car first and is instantly at my door, opening it for me and holding out his hand.
“Katherine’s Diner,” Christian says as I step out of the low car. “Our first date.”
“It’s a restaurant,” I tease, crossing my arms and leaning against the McLaren. “And it looks closed. All the lights are off.”
He sighs, smiling, and puts his hands on either side of me. He pins me with his eyes on mine, flitting them to my lips every so often. “It’s a diner. And trust me, it isn’t closed.”
I love it. I love him. I love this. I love us.
He’s brought me back to the place we had our first date and he’s dressed up for it. He is wearing navy pants, his fancy shoes, and a white button up, the top buttons undone, with his sleeves rolled up his forearms.
He is so fucking gorgeous, it’s quite unfair.
I’m here in jeans, sandals, and an off the shoulder floral top. But the way he is looking at me right now, I feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.
Christian’s smile is contagious, so I match his expression. “Fine.”
He holds out his hand again. “So? Can I take you on a date, Lana Aurora Gomez?”
I drag my lip back and forth between my teeth and nod, slipping my hand into his, our fingers naturally twining together.
“You owe me a lot of milkshakes,” I say quietly.
“I’ll give you a lifetime of milkshakes,” he says, and then kisses my temple.