27. CHAPTER 24 #2
Her mouth trembled, then parted on a shaky exhale, and I deepened the kiss, coaxing her to meet me there. She did.
The storm faded.
Her hands found the back of my neck, and her fingers closed around it, pulling me closer.
I angled her back onto the pillows, following her down, never breaking the kiss, as her body eased under mine, soft and responsive and still half-tense, determined to argue with itself even now.
I broke away from the kiss. “Still okay?”
“Yes,” she breathed, her voice strained.
I kissed her again, slower and more deliberate. My hand wandered along her ribs, tracing the line of her waist, memorizing the dip of her body under my palm. When I reached the hem of her nightgown, I paused.
Her lashes fluttered, and she swallowed.
“Orion,” she whispered. My name on her lips sounded wrecked. Hungry. It went straight to my cock.
“Tell me if it’s too much and I’ll stop,” I said, meaning every word and hating that I meant it.
She held my gaze for one long, shaking breath. “Don’t.”
My pulse picked up at her answer. I’d waited months for her to come to me. Nothing could’ve prepared me for when she finally gave in.
I drew the slip upward, exposing her stomach, then higher until her breasts spilled free, her dark nipples exposed and hard.
“Such a pretty fucking thing,” I rasped, already gone.
I took one in my mouth, my tongue swirling, sucking hard enough to make her gasp and arch.
"Orion—”
“Fuck Léa,” I whispered along her skin, glancing up at her wrecked expression. “Is this okay?”
The strain in my voice was raw, my arousal thick and painful. My control was barely hanging by a thread.
"Don't stop," she panted, her fingers threading into my hair, pulling me closer. The urge to devour her hit so fierce I could hardly breathe, but I reined it in, moving lower—kissing her stomach, her navel, her hipbone—until I found myself between her thighs.
I spread her legs gently, my eyes locking on her bare pussy glistening and swollen with need in the faint light.
I felt my heart hit hard at my ribs in a desperate rhythm. The sight of her swollen clit and the wetness of her entrance made my cock throb so hard it felt like it was going to split my skin.
She was perfect.
I wanted to taste every bit of her until she was shaking and sobbing my name.
The thunder rumbled and lightening struck but she didn’t hear any of it.
I lowered my head and kissed her inner thigh, my teeth grazing her soft flesh.
“You’re so fucking perfect Léa.”
She trembled and her thighs quivered either from my praise or from the fact that I glided my tongue over her, slowly tasting her.
“Tell me this is still okay,” I asked, my breath fanning her clit as I looked up the length of her body to her face.
“Oh…God, yes.”
Her voice broke on a whine, her hips jerking toward my mouth, and I groaned into her. I pressed my tongue flat against her, sweeping over her folds, circling her clit with the tip until she was gasping.
It was the first time I was pleasuring anyone with my tongue in nine years. And it felt entirely new.
She tasted so sweet, like forbidden fruit and pure heat. Her scent claimed me instantly.
I don’t recall it tasting this fucking incredible.
I swirled my tongue in wide, greedy circles, catching every drop of her juices before locking my lips around her clit and sucking softly. Her soft moans ruining me with every rhythmic lap of my tongue, the sound of her pleasure acting like a trigger tugging at the last of my restraint
"God-fucking-dammit," I cursed under my breath.
She was dripping with arousal, and I sucked her clit harder, her thighs clamping around my shoulders.
One hand held her hip down. The other slid up, teasing her entrance before pushing inside, slowly. She clenched around my finger like she’d never been touched properly in her life.
“Like this?” I checked, pumping shallowly, curling my finger to hit that spot inside while my tongue worked her clit relentlessly.
She cried out, bowing her back as she screamed my name.
“Orion—oh, yes! oh—”
Her walls gripped me like a vice, so goddamn tight it made my cock throb violently. I was seconds from losing my mind.
How long had it been for her? Months? Years?
The thought punched through me—jealousy, feral and possessive, all wrapped in one. I shoved it down.
This was now. This was us.
The thought of it still made my cock jolt. The image of sinking deep into her, stretching her, filling her up… each visual was enough to make my blood run hotter.
But tonight was hers.
“You’re doing so well,” I praised, my voice dark as I added a second finger, stretching her carefully. “That’s it. Let me stretch you.”
Her hips bucked, grinding into my face, and I thrust deeper, working her harder. She let go completely, shattering as she cried my name loud enough to drown out the storm.
“Orion!”
She clenched around my fingers, pulsing in tight little waves, and it had me painfully hard. I didn’t stop. I stayed with her, guiding her through it, letting her ride out every tremor until the intensity of it finally began to ebb.
Only when she started to shake with the aftershocks did I ease my fingers out and press one last soft kiss between her thighs.
Her body trembled, her chest heaving, her hair mussed across the pillow. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her face.
Those wide, dazed eyes, the way her lips parted in silent gasps, the warm golden heat of her skin…it was a raw, unguarded beauty that hit me like a punch to the gut.
In that moment, she wasn't just my wife, the woman I'd bound myself to out of obligation; she was alive, vibrant, unraveling under my touch, more than I'd prepared for.
Vulnerable. Mine, in a way I'd never claimed before.
Part of me wondered if this was what true desire felt like, not the cold transaction I'd always known, but the warmer, insistent thing currently pulling at the parts of me I’d kept distant.
Damn this woman.
Watching her come might be one of the greatest highlights of my life.
My eyes were locked on every detail, the way her eyelids fluttered, and her brows knitted in raw ecstasy. The cry that escaped her throat with my name threading through it. I could record it and watch it in a loop, because I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my entire life.
It fueled the ache in my groin, my cock throbbing inside the confines of my trousers, begging for friction.
Temptation clawed at me to flip her over, to sink into her and chase my own end.
The need to devour every inch of her, and mark her from the inside out—more than this single act sent a tremor through me.
I reminded myself again: tonight belongs to her.
I held back, savoring the power of her surrender instead.
The thunder had dulled to a distant growl, rain hitting on the window panes. I moved up, propping on one elbow beside her, my hand stayed on her thigh, my thumb tracing lazy lines on her skin.
“Do you feel better now?” I asked, my voice hoarse, searching her expression for any regret.
Her eyes opened, unfocused at first, then sharpening as reality crept back in. She blinked once, twice. I watched the defenses slot back into place, shutting me out again.
Without a word, she dragged her nightgown down, smoothing the fabric over her legs with quick, jerky movements, as if erasing the evidence of what we'd done.
I opened my mouth, curiosity burning at the tip of my lips. “How long has it been for you?”
She acted like she heard nothing. Ignoring the question entirely.
Then sat up carefully, her hair messy, and her gaze fixed somewhere near my collarbone, anywhere but my eyes. That hurried adjustment, the refusal to look at me… the reaction of someone caught in a mistake she couldn't wait to flee.
Part of me wanted to pull her back, to wrap her in my arms and keep her here through the night, the storm be damned. The bed felt too empty already at the thought of her leaving, or the warmth slipping away.
But I didn't extend the invite, or voice the urge.
Inviting her to stay would mean admitting this meant more than a momentary comfort. So I stayed silent, watching as she stood, smoothing her hair with trembling fingers.
“Thanks,” she murmured.
Thanks?
The way the words left her mouth was almost mechanical, as if nothing had happened. They sounded wrong in the space where she’d just been trembling under my hands.
She didn't meet my eyes. She turned and walked fast toward the door, so fast you'd think something invisible was chasing her.
“Léa,” I said, vexation and a deep ache rising in my chest. “Look at me.”
She kept ignoring me.
“Good night, Orion.”
She was already reaching for the door knob. The words hit me so hard, I couldn’t tell where the ache ended and the anger began, or what I wanted to do about either of them.
She opened the door and left, the latch clicking shut behind her, leaving me alone with the fading patter of rain and the insistent pulse of my unmet need.
My body ached, my chest ached… every part of me ached.
What the hell was that?
I dragged a hand over my face and exhaled hard. She’d come to me, shaking, seeking comfort, and I’d given her more than that. Deliberately. Thoroughly. On my knees, metaphorically if not literally, to make sure she forgot she was afraid of anything but me.
And she’d thanked me like I’d handed her a blanket, then fled.
Tomorrow, she’d pretend nothing had happened. I could already feel it. The walls would be higher, the distance more intense.
She’d sit across from me at breakfast with innocent eyes, talk about pastries, her friends and fabrics while intentionally leaving out the fact that she’d come apart in my hands.
The thought should have amused me. Rather, it stung.
It stirred a dark possessive hunger, far too interested in the way she’d said my name when she shattered.
Whatever this was becoming, it wasn’t under control or strategic. Neither was it safe.
Maybe I didn’t want safe anymore.