Maverick #2
A small smile graces her full lips as she continues to rub small circles over the fabric of her underwear. I can see a damp spot growing there, and knowing she’s turned on only makes the situation in my pants more precarious.
She rights her neck and looks at me, a challenge gleaming in her eyes. “What about you?”
I shake my head, almost desperately. “This is about you.”
“Please, Maverick,” she pleads. “I want to see you.”
I chuckle, slightly embarrassed. “Baby, I’m afraid if I touch myself at all I’m gonna come.”
Her smile is triumphant, like she’s proud of the fact that just the sight of her has me on the edge. “That’s kind of the point, Rebel Man.”
God, this woman has no idea the effect she has on me.
“As you wish,” I say, which only makes her smile wider. I stand and pull off my shirt, then undo my belt and my jeans, sliding them off and moving them to the side. Her eyes stare unabashedly at my brief-clad erection, her gaze hungry. I sit back down and palm myself over my boxers. “You’re sure?”
She nods and licks her bottom lip. “Yes.”
I reach inside the elastic band and wrap my fist around my cock for the first time in weeks.
I’ve stayed celibate since Delilah arrived, knowing if I touched myself it would be to thoughts of her.
Now, the sensation combined with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen sitting right in front of me is almost too much.
I lift my hips and slide my briefs down slightly, allowing my cock to spring free.
Keeping my eyes on her, I pump my fist once, groaning deep.
Delilah’s eyes widen and her breath catches. “You’re beautiful.”
No one’s ever called me beautiful before, and I feel my face grow warm at the compliment. “You’re perfect.”
Her eyes roll back as she continues to touch herself, chest heaving.
“Eyes on me, Delilah.”
Her eyes flutter open and connect with mine before she gives me a sly smile.
Using her other hand to move her panties to the side, she exposes her slick core to me, wet and glistening.
Her fingers dip into her center before sliding up to her clit, making small circles there as a moan slips past her lips. “Maverick.”
Holy hell, that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. “Yeah, baby?” My fist starts to pump at a steady pace, matching her rhythm.
“I think I’m gonna come,” she breaths, watching my hand with parted lips.
My movements grow rough as that familiar, anticipatory shiver works its way down my spine. “Fuck,” I groan, watching as she comes undone.
“Oh god.” Her eyes squeeze shut as she cries out. Her fingers slow their movements and her whole body tenses and trembles, riding wave after wave of her pleasure.
Watching her come—flushed and shaking—is all it takes for my own release to barrel through me. My cum paints my stomach and my vision goes spotty as I climax harder than I have in years, leaving me boneless and panting.
Chests heaving, we watch each other in silence, both of us glowing with perspiration. “Are you alright?”
She giggles, clearly giddy. “Never been better, Rebel Man.”
Her joy is contagious, and I feel my own lips stretch into a genuine grin. I grab my discarded t-shirt off the floor and clean my stomach before tucking my dick back into my briefs. Her eyes scan my body as I walk over to her and kneel. “You’re a goddess.”
She bites her lip with a slight shake of her head. “That’s a bit farfetched, don’t you think?”
“Never.” I palm her thighs and spread her legs gently, grabbing her hand—the one she used to touch herself—and bring it to my mouth. “May I?”
Her brow furrows. “You want to taste me?”
“I fear this is the closest I’ll ever come to feeling your thighs wrapped around my head,” I tease. “So yes, but only if you’re okay with it.”
Her eyes scan back and forth between my own, indecisive. “Okay.”
“Tell me if you want me to stop.” She nods.
I bring her hand to my lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the pads of her fingers.
I open my mouth and bring the two fingers she used to swirl around her clit inside, closing my lips around them and sucking softly.
I hum involuntarily as my cock—which is still mostly hard—twitches at the taste of her.
She squirms on the bed, letting out a small hum.
Swirling my tongue around her fingers, I watch her as her lips part, her surprised intake of breath enough to drive me wild. Once I’m satisfied that I’ve cleaned her fingers off as much as possible, I slowly slide her fingers back out of my mouth with a satisfying pop.
Wide-eyed and breathless, she stares at me. “What do I taste like?”
I lean forward, caging her in between my arms. “Like heaven, baby.”
She blushes. “If you say so.”
It takes all my strength not to lean in further and nuzzle her neck. “You don’t believe me?”
She looks down, avoiding my eyes. “I’ve never… Gabriel never…”
I reach up and cradle her chin, forcing her gaze up to mine. “Listen to me. The man you were forced to marry is a selfish, insecure prick who’s probably never made a woman come in his life.”
She snorts, laughing softly. “He’s certainly never tried.”
“Because he—like most men—is afraid of failure. But what he doesn’t understand is that failing is the best way to learn.”
Delilah sniffles. “I can’t imagine you ever failing at anything.”
It’s my turn to snort now. “Believe me, darlin’. I’ve failed more times than I can count.”
She raises a skeptical brow. “Even at making women come?”
I erupt into a coughing fit while Delilah tries—and fails—to contain her grin. Once I recover, I clear my throat and do my best to answer. “I can’t say that’s something I’ve personally struggled with, no. But at plenty of other things, yes.”
She sighs wistfully. “Somehow I suspected as much.”
I can’t believe I haven’t even kissed her. I want nothing more than to grab her by the back of her neck and crush her lips to mine. “Delilah,” I say, maybe just because I can.
“Maverick,” she mimics, her smile still firmly in place.
I take a deep breath, trying to figure out how to express everything I’m feeling.
I want to tell her that she’s it for me—that to me, we’re endgame.
But I don’t want to scare her, and I especially don’t want to distract her while she’s about to go back into enemy territory.
I’m still wildly uncomfortable with this plan—with her being so far away from me—but I know there’s no changing her mind at this point.
So, instead of pouring my heart out, I just say, “Thank you. For helping me. For helping the Resistance.”
She studies me for a moment, as if she can sense there’s more I want to say. “It’s the right thing to do,” she answers.
I chuckle softly. “If only everyone had that same conviction. Most people, even when they see injustice with their own eyes, turn the other way—pretend it’s not happening just because it’s not happening to them.”
Her brows furrow. “Maybe they’re just scared.”
I nod. “Probably.”
Her eyes scan my face before she reaches out and cups my face, running her thumb over my stubble. “But not you.”
“I’m scared of plenty,” I say, melting into her touch.
“Could’ve fooled me.” Her voice is soft, breathy. She leans forward slightly, wetting her lips.
I can smell her sweet breath, feel its warmth as I lean in closer, ready to say fuck it and claim her mouth as mine.
“Hey, Mav!” someone yells from outside the tent. “You in there?”
Delilah and I both jump apart like high schoolers caught making out in the supply closet.
Only then do I remember that we’re both basically still naked and there’s a whole camp full of people who depend on me.
She crosses her arms over her bare chest and I give her what I hope is an apologetic look before standing and dressing quickly.
Once we’re both dressed, I give her one final glance.
She jerks her chin toward the door. “Go. I’ve been selfish, keeping you all to myself.”
“I’ll see you later?”
I sound like a lovesick fool. But who am I kidding? I am one.
She rolls her eyes playfully. “Obviously. Where else am I gonna go?”
I leave the tent, acutely aware of the fact that she won’t be here in just a few days.