Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
Noa
H e tastes like how I feel when I try to satisfy a craving.
Hungry. Sweetly addicted. Wanting more.
I shove that thought from my brain. My back presses against the edge of the countertop and my hands grapple for some leverage, an edge, a hold, an anchor to keep me from floating through the ceiling and into the night sky.
Stone’s mouth has other ideas. His lips are hot, suctioned on mine, stealing all oxygen. He takes and takes until I dart my tongue forward and graze against him. Sensing my exploration, he plunders, tilting my head back, angling it for the best kind of kiss, and finally, I take, too.
My fingers dig into his back. He came into the kitchen in his boxers, all cut lines and crinkled expression, like I’m just as confusing to him as he is to me.
I want to feel all of him, to see if he’s different, and he is. His muscles are hills and valleys on his back, unlike the lanky, rebellious bad-boy I had in high school. Stone’s kiss is the same, possessive and all-consuming, demanding my attention.
With that mouth and the way his body molds against mine, creating heat like flint creates fire, all my hurt drifts away. My worries and my pain. What’s left is exactly the emotion he promised: Need .
Stone’s hands glide down my body, supplicant at first, until he finds my buttons. He doesn’t waste time unbuttoning each one. Stone breaks away enough to rip open my shirt, buttons scattering. I gasp, the heat from my core flowing up my neck and into my cheeks as I wait for him to comment.
Stone’s eyes are dark, dilated, and focused on my chest. His brow creates half-moons where the brightness of his blue eyes should be, and my exhales turn shallow as this beast studies his prey before he consumes me.
I whisper through my panting breath, “We shouldn’t.”
Stone rises. He takes his hands off me, my body aching from the lack of contact.
Instead of backing off, Stone says, “For once in your life, be selfish.”
“What?”
“I’m standing in front of you, rock hard and desperate to pleasure you. Put your reservations aside and just have. ”
I hesitate. I feel a bead of sweat form on my collarbone, then trickle between my exposed breasts.
Stone watches it, then flicks his gaze back to me.
I could do the smart thing. Continue with the mantra, we shouldn’t . My body says otherwise. I’ve deprived myself of life’s most basic forms of finding ecstasy by burying myself in work and refusing to delve into memories. I left a lot of myself behind by doing that.
Here, now, Stone wants me to forget, but in an entirely different way.
My body remembers.
I mouth, Take me.
Stone buries his face in my breasts. I arch back on a moan when he captures one of my nipples and expertly bites down, then flicks it with his tongue.
It turns my veins into electric wires, sending dangerous voltages up my body and sparking behind my eyes.
I grip the back of his head, tangling my fingers in his hair.
“Don’t stop,” I groan to the ceiling. “Oh God, don’t stop.”
“Never,” he promises, before using the same skill on my other nipple.
I writhe against the countertop, the scent of cooking bacon, onion, garlic and Stone against my nostrils. An aphrodisiac of epic proportions.
Stone’s hand breaks away from my breast, traveling to the hem of my pajama shorts. The elastic is a poor defense against his deft fingers. Satin pools around my ankles and I kick them somewhere—as far away as possible because I want to be naked in front of this man. Fully exposed.
I haven’t had sex in years and my vagina has taken over my brain, commanding attention and demanding the release of all this frustrated reserve of sexual energy.
Hiking my legs around his waist, Stone growls his approval, straightening and setting me on the counter.
He grazes his lips across my cheek, his stubble prickling my skin, and murmurs into my ear, “With all these cooking supplies, I’d bathe your pussy in butter before I dine, but I know I don’t have to because you taste like fucking honey. ”
Stone, being familiar with my scent and taste and having deprived himself of it for years, takes the anticipation so much higher.
“I want your tongue on me,” I pant.
Stone leans back to meet my eye. His are hooded, his pupils even larger than before. “Say it. Beg me to fuck you with my tongue.”
I’m squirming on the counter, damp and throbbing between my legs. “Please, Stone. Fuck me with your mouth.”
He smiles, predatory and sure, then lowers until he’s nestled between my thighs. Stone’s eyes flare at the sight of my bare pussy. He grits out, “Your wish, Lavender, my command.”
My hands slap on the granite behind me as I try to find some friction to keep from puddling onto the counter. Stone slides his velvet tongue from my anus to my clit, delicate and teasing as he collects the juices. His eyes flutter closed, and he groans.
“Damn, you’re as delicious as I remember. More so.”
Instinct has me thrusting my hips into his face, my body language insisting he go deeper, but he darts away with a wicked grin.
“You’re on my timetable now, and I’m not getting you off until I re-introduce myself to every secret your pussy tries to hide.”
“Please, Stone,” I say, hoping if I keep begging like he enjoys, he’ll devour me.
“Not gonna work, sweetheart. Now shut up and let me work.”
Thighs trembling, I watch him bury his nose in me and inhale deeply. I should be embarrassed, but I’m not. No guy has ever wanted to scent me so thoroughly, except for him. This is the Stone I knew, the one I want, who prods me open with his tongue and spreads me farther with his fingers.
Then he thrusts.
His tongue is a cock in a different form, more dexterous and able to angle in all the right places. My hips meet him as he plunges in and out, his thumb flicking my clit and his other hand doing things I’d never imagined, like prodding at my anus and pushing in all the way to the knuckle.
My eyes pop open at the foreign sensation.
I don’t hate it. I love it. It adds to the ecstasy as he uses his mouth and fingers to bring me to unexplainable heights.
I’m sure my juices would pool around me if they could, but Stone laps up every drop of passion, unsatisfied until I mewl, a vocal warning of my impending orgasm.
“I missed that sound,” he says against my pussy, then mouth-fucks me harder.
The orgasm surges through me, shuddering my muscles and frying my nerves. I clutch his head to stay grounded because I’m sure if I let go, I’ll sprout wings and fly.
“I … I haven’t felt this, anything like this, for so long.”
I don’t realize I’ve said it out loud until Stone rises, his mouth and chin as slick as his satisfied smile.
“That’s great to hear, considering I’m not nearly done with you.”
I look at him with trepidation.
Stone cups the side of my neck, his thumb tracing my jaw. “I wasn’t lying. I need you. Need to be inside you, flying with you.”
I nod against his grip, fully taken with desire.
Stone loses his boxers, his cock springing forth. It’s so hard, it bounces painfully with its reveal, one side of Stone’s face wincing at the movement.
“Your balls must be so tight,” I murmur, kind of surprised at the dirty talk coming out of my mouth, but kind of loving it, too.
How long has it been since I stated my desires so simply? As long as I’ve been away from him.
“They’re fucking blue balls.” Stone cocks his head. “What are you going to do about it?”
I spread my legs, forcing Stone to take a step back as I idly finger my folds, wet with his previous ministrations.
His eyes are set on fire. “I wouldn’t do that if you’re not prepared for the consequences.”
I bite my lower lip and meet his stare. “Damn the consequences.”
Stone’s chest rumbles. Then he moves.
I let him cover my body on the counter. Bowls fall.
Dried white beans scatter. The logical part of my mind—the responsible, level, you shouldn’t be doing this part— releases a quiet warning.
My sex drive doesn’t heed it and I cover Stone’s lips with my own, wrapping my limbs around his lithe body and covering us in flour.
His fingers dive into my pussy, fucking relentlessly as I buck beneath him. He sucks out my cries and swallows them, the weight of him suffocating and addictive.
Air hits my cheeks when he rears back on a curse. “Condom. I need a condom.”
“Get it,” I heave out, then splay out like a starfish as he jumps off me and stumbles into the den, his dick jutting in front of him like a sword.
Stone returns in seconds, tearing open the wrapper with his mouth. He slides it on before climbing on top of me. I lift my knees and spread myself open for him. He growls his approval before slamming inside.
His entrance is slick, easy, and all the way to the hilt. I’ve never been more accepting of a man and his thrusts come immediately, our dance a familiar and desperate one as we reunite in the way we were always amazing at.
My back curves. My chin tilts up. My eyes shutter closed as I give myself into the way he stretches me and strokes the sweetest parts of my body.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Harder. Please, harder.”
Stone grunts, rising on his hands, his abs undulating with his sure strokes. His jaw tightens, the tendons in his cheeks jutting, then releasing. His eyes won’t leave mine.
“That’s it, Lavender. Give yourself over. Let me satisfy you.”
My thighs tighten with glorious warning.
He adds, “I’m not coming until you do. I want you to get there first.”
My breaths come out shorter. I can’t speak. I can barely hold his eyes with my own. My vision blackens.
Then his strokes slow.
My brows furrow as I cry out my displeasure.
His grin is slow and panther-like. “Did I forget to mention I’ll have to torture you first, the way you’ve tortured me?”
“F-Fuck you,” I stutter.
He laughs before his eyes return to a sinful midnight blue. “You’re so delicious when you’re mad and want to come.”
In a spiteful move, I move my fingers to where we’re connected and find my clit.
Stone notices what I’m doing, then bites his lip in reluctant approval. “Resourceful little thing.” He looks down again and stays there. “ Fuck me .”
“Feels good, too,” I say through a moan.
Stone pulls out, both of us fascinated with the slide of his dick and the furtive circles of my fingers. He can’t contain his pleasure, groaning as he pushes in, then furtively pulls out.
The combined feeling of my fingers and him sent me over the moon and around it three times. I’m spinning, closing my eyes in wonderful bliss, our sweating bodies squeaking on the granite and clumping with flour.
Neither of us cares. We climb all the way to the top, Stone’s balls tightening against my pussy when he realizes I’m about to come.
“That’s it, Lavender.”
Stone watches me tremble with my second orgasm, using one hand to hold my jaw so he can memorize each twitch and own every moan.
When I go slack, so utterly satisfied, Stone retakes the wheel and jackhammers into me, ensuring more of my pleasure and a third orgasm before he loses himself in his own.