15. Hadley #3
Wanting to savor more of him, I guide the tip of his erection into my mouth and let the weight of it rest on my tongue before I swirl it around the head.
Working my hands in unison with my mouth, I slide him in and out of my lips, the moisture from my mouth allowing my hand to mimic the same movement on his shaft.
Blow jobs have never been one of my favorite parts of foreplay, but with Nolan, I find myself never wanting it to stop. Watching him writhe as I work him over in my mouth is almost as addictive as the scones at Bailey’s bookstore.
With my free hand, I reach between my legs, gliding my fingers through the pool of moisture at the apex of my thighs.
“Fuck, yes. Touch yourself, baby,” Nolan demands as he snakes his hand into my hair, taking control of my movements. He doesn’t push for more. He increases the speed of his thrusts into my mouth.
My finger swirls around my clit, hungry for more. Pulling my mouth free from his cock, I look up at Nolan with a begging plea. “I need more, Nolan.”
“Fuck, I thought you’d never ask.”
In a flash, I’m flipped from my knees onto my back, and Nolan is above me, kicking himself free from his shorts.
I rub myself against him, craving to feel him deep inside me, to have him mark me again.
His shaft glides against my clit over and over again, and I can feel the waves of pleasure building in my core.
“Baby, I need to put on a condom.”
I bob my head, and he stretches across me and leans over to reach into his shorts, grabbing his wallet. Quickly, he slips out a foil package and rips the corner open. In a practiced move, he easily covers himself in the latex.
“Are you ready?” he asks, and I nod, my hesitation from earlier easily forgotten.
He aligns himself at my entrance and slips inside, inch by amazing inch.
“You’re so fucking tight, baby. God, I forgot how tight you were,” he groans as he thrusts himself to the hilt.
“Yes,” I moan.
He’s slow at first, allowing me to adjust to his size, but it’s not long until we’re both frantically matching each other’s thrusts. I sink my nails into the skin of his ass cheek when his cock begins to rub against a particularly sensitive spot that has me feeling like I’m about to explode.
Sensing I must be close to a release, Nolan slides his hand from the breast he had been caressing up to my neck. The hold isn’t overly tight, but it’s enough to heighten my senses. Every ounce of pleasure I had been experiencing ruptures within me as I reach my pinnacle.
Nolan’s movements slow as I come back to myself, and he asks if that was okay. But in my glorious haze, I can only mumble, “So good,” and nod.
“Good. Now I want to fuck you and watch that gorgeous ass.”
Flipping my languid body over, he reaches for my hips and jerks them in the air. His erection easily slides back inside my channel, where it belongs, and his thrusts begin again. I rock back against him, the new position allowing his cock to rub against that same sensitive spot.
“That’s it, sweetheart. I can feel your pussy squeezing me so tight.”
Normally, I’m not one for dirty talk, but I could come from Nolan’s voice alone. It’s deep and wicked, and I want more.
His movements become more frantic, less steady but more powerful, as he gets closer to his release.
One of his hands remains on my hip while the other reaches into my hair and tightens it in his fist. At first, it’s painful, but as I reach another climax, I no longer feel the pain.
It’s not much longer before Nolan reaches his release, and we fall as one onto the couch in a heap.
“That was...” I say, unable to fully describe how amazing the sex was. But it was more than that. It was the day, the new revelations, the feelings.
“It was,” he replies as he presses a kiss to my nose, then moves to remove the condom. Tying it in a knot, he places it on my small end table.
“I’ll clean it up in a minute,” he says as he tucks me against him.
Eventually, the scent of fried shrimp and hush puppies reminds us that dinner has been waiting on the counter through an unreasonable amount of emotional upheaval.
Nolan glances toward the bags. “Are we still pretending we remembered food exists?”
“We should probably protect the illusion that we are responsible adults.”
“Probably.”
I pull back enough to study him. “You’re doing it now.”
“Doing what?”
“The threatening little hum that makes it sound like you know something I don’t.”
His smile turns slow. “Maybe I do.”
“There it is again.”
He kisses me once more, softer this time. Tender enough that the ache in my chest has nothing to do with fear.
We unpack dinner side by side, bumping hips in my small kitchen while Nolan steals fries from my container and denies it even with the evidence in his hand.
His blueprints remain spread across the table.
His sweatshirt now covers my body. His truck sits outside beside my cottage as though it has always belonged there.
None of it feels temporary.
For the first time, I let myself believe that maybe that was the point.
This no longer feels like the beginning of a romance.
It feels like the beginning of a life.