Chapter 25 - Shannon
Shannon
These thoughts have a habit of sneaking up on me when I least expect them.
We stand there, just staring, as if we’re truly seeing each other for the first time. I tug my shirt, trying to cover my chest, suddenly feeling exposed and wanting to hide.
But he doesn’t take his eyes off me.
When I look at him, I don’t see a soft stomach or thighs that rub each other up the wrong way every time they meet. Wesley’s body doesn’t jiggle when he laughs, or bounce when he walks.
No… all he has is a bump on his nose, giving him an air of danger and a big flat toe that I want to draw a smiley face on. The rest of him? It’s like his skin was stretched tight over thick, solid muscle.
And mine… feels loose, oversized.
“Don’t.” The sound of his voice pulls me back from my spiralling thoughts. The thoughts where I stand in front of the mirror, trying to find something nice to say about myself.
Tits, yeah, they’re big, but so is everything else. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt self-conscious in front of someone, this will be the first time Wesley has sort of seen me naked. I wore my skirt the last time we were intimate.
I don’t realise he’s moved closer until his hands are gently resting on my shoulders, his eyes locked on mine.
“Shannon… where’d you go?” he whispers, voice soft, searching my face. I swallow the hard lump in my throat. My feet want to move, to run in the bathroom and lock myself away.
Why’d they have to show up now? I was the one who instigated this.
“I’ll… get us a towel,” I say, turning to leave, anything to stop him looking at me like he is.
But his hand reaches out and wraps around my wrist, gently pulling me back to face him.
I bite my lip looking anywhere but him. “I’ve got a few fresh towels…” But I don’t get to finish before Wesley’s wet palm hits the kitchen island with a loud smack. I jump, my eyes snap back to him.
“I don’t want a fucking towel, Shannon,” he bites out, nostrils flaring, voice tight, his hand now curled into a tight fist the other… still wrapped around my wrist in a gentle grip.
He blows out a tormented breath. “I want to look at the beautiful fucking woman standing right in front of me.” Both his hands land on my hips, gripping the hem of my soaked T-shirt.
“I want to enjoy every second of it.” He lifts my arms above my head, peeling the clingy fabric from my skin.
“Every minute,” he breathes, the air leaves my lungs as he pulls my shirt the rest of the way, letting it drop to the floor with a soft plop, forming a small puddle of water at our feet.
“Don’t hide yourself from me. If you could crawl inside my body, see yourself through my eyes, feel yourself through my hands…
you’d know just how much I enjoy the look of you. ”
He takes a step back, reaching behind his neck, and pulls his shirt up and over his head in that slow, confident way only men seem to know how. It hits the floor with a wet thud. He takes my hand and presses it firmly, flattening it over his heart.
“Feel that?”
His heart pounds beneath my palm, his skin skittered in goosebumps at the contact.
“You make me feel so much, Shannon,” he whispers, eyes still locked on mine as he slowly guides my hand lower, until it brushes the bulge under his shorts.
“You turn me on… something fierce.” He blows out a breath, eyes flicking to the ceiling, then back to me.
The pad of his calloused thumb presses against my bottom lip.
“Something fucking crazy.” Then he steps forward, dropping his hands to the side of my face, holding me still, forcing me to look up at him.
His chest flush with mine, his hard cock against my stomach.
“Don’t hide yourself from me, baby… please.” He bites his lip; his eyes fixed on me. “You’re perfect.”
It’s like he’s found the key to my darkest thoughts; he locks them up and throws it away.
Then he drops his head and kisses me.
His tongue traces the seam of my lips, coaxing me open, sliding into my mouth, tasting me, twisting his tongue with mine. His hands sink into my wet hair.
His full, soft lips, suck my bottom lip between his, gently and slowly, while his rough damp beard grazes my cheeks, raw and perfect.
He kisses me deeply, tilting our heads as he rocks his hips into mine.
I break from the kiss and take a hesitant step back and slide down my soaked shorts, kicking them away.
His breath catches as I stand in front of him, completely naked, every curve, every pale line that marks my stretched skin.
My body may not be tight, but I’ve never felt more beautiful through someone else’s eyes…
Until Wesley.
We’re both naked as he drags me down the hallway to my bedroom, our clothes left in a wet, discarded heap on the floor.
His hands roam across every curve of my body, fingers digging into my hips in a bruising grip.
He backs me up until the bed hits the back of my legs and I fall onto it.
He just stands there, watching me crawl backwards to the centre of the mattress, a wicked grin curling on his lips.
He follows, one knee resting on the edge of the bed, he taps the inside of my knee.
“Open,” he says, voice gruff, the sound scrapes deliciously down my spine.
I draw my knees up and let them fall apart for him.
He crawls between my thighs but pauses, dipping his head to press a soft kiss at the top of my pussy.
Then, slowly, he moves over my body, kissing my hips, my stomach, each touch of his lips setting my skin on fire, until he reaches my breasts.
“Every part of you,” he whispers between kisses.
“Please…” I beg, unable to bear the teasing any longer.
He pins me with those gorgeous blue eyes, his muscled arms caging me in, fists clenched tight on either side of my head. The corners of his mouth tips up into a smirk.
“I told you I wanted to enjoy you, Shannon.” He presses a kiss to my breast, then sucks a nipple between his lips, releasing it with a soft plop.
“Now, be a good girl for me, yeah?” His tongue flicks over the tight, peaked bud, swirling, teasing, until every nerve ending sparks and I’m squirming underneath him, desperately needing him closer, wanting him inside me.
He pushes up onto his knees, then wraps one tattooed hand around my ankles. It’s almost too painful, how slowly he runs his hand up over my legs, until one settles between my thighs. His other hand fists the sheets at the side of my hip.
I’m dripping, so wet when he spreads me open. He circles my entrance, coating his fingers before sliding one inside me, while the rough pad of his thumb teases my clit.
“Yes,” I moan again; there’s no place for shame.
“You gonna grip my cock like this when I’m inside you?” His dirty words make my back arch, my body pleading for more. “Your tight cunt sucking my cock. I’ve thought about this so many times, Shannon.”
“Wesley…” He adds a second finger, thrusting them into me, and then his head disappears between my thighs, his tongue finds my clit, flicking, teasing. I’m whining, writhing.
“Come on my fingers.” He pumps them steadily, tongue lashing, lips sucking. I’m squirming, barely breathing.
“Don’t hold back, Shannon, sweetheart.” He blows gently against my clit, my legs tremble, I can feel him everywhere.
His mouth covers my swollen nub, humming as he sucks me into his mouth, sending deep pulsing vibrations through me.
Pleasure rocks over me, body shaking, chest rising and falling, ripping moans from my chest. Still, he doesn’t stop, tongue lashing, fingers stroking, coaxing everything from me.
I cry out so hard as I come, soaking his fingers.
“Wesley,” I moan again, toes stretched out. “Shit…”
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he praises me, slipping his fingers out. “So good.”
“Your cunt is my favourite flavour,” he growls, sucking his fingers down to the knuckle.
His eyes roll back, undone before he’s even inside me.
When he’s done, he sits back on his shins.
His cock stands thick, hard, and heavy, precum coats the tip, I ache to taste him, to suck him into my mouth, but I don’t get a chance, before he wraps his hand around his length, stroking from base to the tip, eyes locked on me.
Then he squeezes his thumb and forefinger around the swollen, purple head.
I decide then, I want to feel him with nothing between us.
“I’m on the pill,” I rush out the words.
“And… It’s been a long time for me too.” It’s my way of telling him there’s nothing sinister going on down there.
I don’t sleep around, never have. Wesley would be the only man I’ve not used a condom with.
He’s quiet for a second, like he’s trying to choose his words carefully.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “I hate talking about this bollocks… but I was tested after… Megan.” I reach up and stroke his face as he leans over me.
“In that case, Mr Parker,” I whisper, pulling him down on top of me, “let me feel you.” His lips curve into a devastating smile, stealing my breath.
His heavy weight presses down on mine, his fingers brush my messy hair out the way.
He kisses me again, then stares down at me. I really look at him, his blue eyes sparkle, the small streaks of grey highlight his beard and hair. His smile defines the crinkles at the corners of his eyes.
My legs fall apart wider, his cock nudges my entrance, I swallow hard, waiting for the sting. It’s not like I’ve had many partners, and Wesley, well, he’s not exactly small in that department.
As if he can see the worry on my face, he says, “I promise I’ll take my time, sweetheart… but I can’t promise I’ll last.” His voice thick as he guides himself, pressing the tip inside. I moan at the stretch, just from the head.
He sucks in a breath, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, a bead of sweat rolls down his cheek.
“Fuck, you feel so good… so wet… so fucking tight.”
My fingers grip his shoulders, nails digging into the firm muscle. He pushes in further, inch by inch, stretching me with every slow thrust.
“Wesley… my God.” He groans with my moans, eyes rolling back. My hands slide down to his arse and I pull him in deeper. With the final thrust of his hips, he’s fully inside me.
I whimper as he adjusts himself, the sharp pain intense, at the sheer size of him. He doesn’t move, allowing me to get used to him. But the needy ache soon takes over.
“Christ, Shannon,” he grits out, lifting his hips before sinking back inside of me.
“You feel so good.” His voice thick, strained.
“Bloody hell, you’re a beautiful woman, Shannon Newton.
” He fucks his sweet words into me with every slow thrust, his head dropping into the crook of my neck.
I feel so full, like he’s crawled inside me and we’re no longer two people, but one.
We move slowly, gently, getting used to each other’s bodies.
Our moans breathless, there’s no rush, no urgency.
My fingers slide through his hair, and he moans into my ear.
I know this means something to him. I can feel it in every movement, the way he breathes, the way he whispers.
I love everything about the way he makes me feel… And I think I’m falling for Wesley Parker. I also have no intentions of stopping it.
He thrusts into me again, lifting his head to meet my gaze. I pull him into a kiss, his hair falling across his face, hips jerking as he nears the edge.
“I’m gonna come, baby,” he groans, trembling around his jittery movements. Our breathing laboured. Both coming undone. Wesley sucks in a breath and grunts as his release pours into me, his weight pressing me down into the mattress.
We lie tangled together, kissing, stroking, our heartbeats beginning to slow.
Eventually, we fall asleep in each other’s arms, the sound of rain still falling steadily, tapping against the window.
Everything is perfect… he’s perfect.