21. Theo #3
“Oh, fuck,” she mutters. The curse sounds so damn hot out of that sweet little mouth of hers, I already can’t wait to make her say it again.
But right now, I’m hanging on by a thread.
“I need you to come for me, Eleanor, before I explode inside you.”
She whimpers, body tensing as her pleasure builds. I pull her close, burying my nose in her neck, still stroking her clit as I pump into her.
“I need that sweet little pussy of yours to come all over my cock.”
She cries out, fingernails tightening on my shoulders, clamping down on my dick as her orgasm rips through her.
Thank God.
I capture her mouth with mine, holding her tight as my own release obliterates all thought. Waves of pleasure crash through me, spilling into her, until my body sighs with relief.
When I blink back to reality, Eleanor is peppering kisses along my jaw, stroking my hair, the back of my head. My fingers ache, and I realize I’m gripping her tightly. Too tightly. I meant to be gentle, careful, but I lost myself.
I release my grip, looking up at her. She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, gazing back, expression unreadable. As she climbs off my lap, pulling on her camisole and tugging down her skirt, I remember my manners.
“Here, let me get you a washcloth.” I tuck myself back into my pants and begin to get up, but she puts a gentle hand on my shoulder to push me back down.
“I’ll just run to the bathroom.”
I exhale, leaning back on the sofa as she exits the room, my head spinning.
Wow. That was… wow.
If I had any lingering doubts about doing this with Eleanor, they’re gone now.
What we just did, how that felt—how it made me feel—there’s no arguing with that.
No arguing with the way my body feels relieved, like I can finally exhale, shoulders loose and relaxed for the first time in years.
The way my heart beats a steady, calm rhythm in my chest, as if it’s finally found where it belongs.
The way I can’t imagine waking up tomorrow without her beside me.
I ponder the logistics of this, how it could work. I’d need to tell the board right away. If I do that, there might be the possibility of salvaging both our jobs. There’s no guarantee, but it’s the best way forward if this thing between us is going to continue.
But as I listen to Eleanor wash up in the bathroom, I can’t imagine asking her to do that.
Not only is it intimidating to share this with the board, it’s also a lot to ask so early on.
We’ve only just slept together, and I still have no idea how she feels, if she’d even want to tell them, to take that risk. I can’t ask her to do that for me.
She comes back into the room, arms folded anxiously across her chest, expression uncertain. Almost as if she’s worried I’ll get dressed and leave.
Or perhaps hoping I will. Shit.
“Do you want me to go?” There’s no denying it, I’ll be gutted if she says yes. But I’ll always respect her boundaries.
She shakes her head, softening. “No, but I understand if you want to.”
I laugh quietly, looking at my hands. It seems we’re both unsure how to proceed, and while I’m itching to ask her how she feels, if she wants this as much as I do, I bite my tongue. I can’t pressure her.
Instead, I hold my arms out, and she smiles, climbing back onto my lap. The weight of her in my arms is reassuring, making my heart settle. I press a kiss to her forehead, and she sighs.
“What do we do now?” she asks quietly.
I mull this over, playing with a strand of her hair.
I’m not sure if she means tonight, or between us generally, but the most important thing, I realize, is to let this unfold between us naturally.
See if it might grow into something real.
Sleeping with her tonight was probably not the right way to do that, and certainly wasn’t my plan when I came here.
I just wanted to see her, to talk to her.
But the moment she straddled me on this sofa…
I sigh, thinking of Eleanor’s words from the garden.
Growing something new takes time. Patience. You have to trust it will come.
And that’s exactly what I want to do.
I squeeze her gently, wondering how I ever doubted this young woman. She’s wise beyond her years.
“We do what we want,” I say firmly. “Without worrying about others.”
She draws away to meet my gaze. “But… the school…”
“I know. We’ll need to be discreet. Nothing can happen at work.” I touch my fingertips gently to her cheek, and she closes her eyes with a soft smile. “But I can’t keep lying to myself, Eleanor.” Her eyes open, searching mine. “And I sure as hell can’t keep lying to you.”
She leans in, taking my lips in a slow kiss, then tugs me down so we’re lying on the sofa, her back flush with my front.
The sofa is too small for me, my feet hanging off the end, my neck at an odd angle, but I don’t care.
I grab a nearby throw blanket and drape it across us, tucking my arm around her waist, holding her close.
Even though it’s cramped, I can’t remember the last time I felt this content.
And with Eleanor in my arms, sleep comes easily.