Chapter Twenty-Four #2
“No.” I lay my hands on his chest, feel the quick beating of his heart. He might wear a cool veneer, but his body doesn’t lie. “I want this. I’m… nervous.”
“Good. You should be.”
“Oh?”
“Oh, yes.” Angus circles my hips with his fingers, sending shivers of desire shooting to my core. “If you let me inside that room, I’m going to spend the rest of the night ruining you. With my fingers, my tongue, even my cock if you’re lucky. You are going to scream my name.”
“Scream it?” I can barely breathe.
“Until you’re hoarse.”
I swallow. “I’d like to go inside now, please.”
For a moment, Angus’ cocky grin wavers. I step past him and open the door. Walk through and pause with a single finger still resting on the handle.
“Aren’t you coming?”
In a flash, he’s inside, kicking the door closed with his boot, and lifting me onto the bed.
He throws me down, trapping my hips with his, nipping at my throat with his lips and teeth.
I shiver as his stubble scratches the sensitive skin and pull at his top until he strips it off, revealing his bare chest.
It’s as majestic as it was at the loch, all hard planes and long lines. I reach out a hand to touch it, and Angus catches it, pressing it against his mouth. I curl my fingers against his lips, and he takes them inside, licking them up and down.
“You like that?” he asks when I moan and buck my hips.
“Yes.”
“Good. That’s the least of what I can do with my tongue.
” Angus drops down to his hands and knees above me, a Greek statue made flesh and blood.
His lips plunder mine and then he is moving down, over my throat, the hollow of my collarbone, lifting the bottom of my T-shirt and kissing the soft skin of my stomach.
I lift my arms, and he pulls off my top, revealing my pink leopard print sports bra, trimmed with a neon-orange band.
“Seriously, London?”
I laugh. “At least it’s not boring.”
“God forbid.” Angus descends again, licking and kissing his way down my stomach, his touch sending warm, shooting flecks of golden pleasure to my pussy. “You could never be boring.”
A different kind of warmth fills me at that. One I don’t have time to dwell on, because then his hands are at my leggings, peeling them off, his knuckles scraping against my thighs.
And then my leggings are on the floor and there is only one thin layer between my pussy and his mouth. I can feel his hot breath on my centre even through my thong, and my clit pulses with need. He pauses, and I can’t take it anymore. My hips twitch of their own accord.
He chuckles, running one lazy finger up and down my covered folds, the lightness of his touch sending me wild. “Impatient, are we?”
“No,” I say through gritted teeth, even as my hips buck.
He slides my pants to the side. Strokes again, dipping his finger between my folds. We can both see the wetness glistening there as he removes it, examines it, and then draws it into his mouth, expression one of ecstasy.
“You asked me earlier if I like it when a woman begs.”
I know what he wants. And judging by the heat between my thighs and my already shaking legs, I know I’m going to give it to him.
“And I do, London. I do. I like hearing filthy words come out of beautiful women’s mouths.
I like it when your need overtakes everything else.
I like knowing that you want me, that you would do anything, say anything, to have me.
” He flicks his tongue out, skimming over my wet centre, and the pleasure of it sears my skin.
“And I’m going to especially like it from you. ”
He does it again, and a whine escapes me, my hands moving of their own accord towards his hair, trying to push him down. He catches them and pins them by my side.
I’m at his mercy.
I have never wanted to be anywhere more.
“So beg me. Beg for me to touch you. I want to hear you unravel.”
“And what if I don’t?” I ask, desperate to hold on to any shred of self-control.
“You will.” He says it confidently. “Or I’ll keep doing this.” Another flick of his tongue. “And this.” He bites my thigh. “And this.” Nibbles his way back down.
It’s delicious. And maddening. So close to giving me what I want, but so far.
I close my eyes.
“Please,” I whisper.
“What was that?”
“Please.” I say it louder this time, but still quietly.
“Say it again.” Angus’ voice is husky with want.
“Please. Please, Angus. Please lick my pussy. Please put your fingers inside me. Please!” I half-shout the last word, bucking against him, the pressure of his hands on my arms, anything to ease the ball of hot, tight need that is overtaking my rational mind.
His fingers tighten, holding me in place. “That’s right. Ask for what you want.”
And then his mouth is on me, soft lips and even softer tongue, warm and enveloping, as he swipes up between my lips, moaning as he tastes me, and flicks the tip of his tongue over my clit.
The sensation is electric.
He does it again, and again. Drawing back and pushing close, drinking me in. “Delicious,” he murmurs. “You’re so fucking delicious.”
Then he slides a finger inside me, and my eyes roll back. God, that’s good. It’s everything.
Angus sets a rhythm, alternating licking my clit with working his finger, adding a second when I gasp for more.
I can feel myself clenching around him, my need spiralling higher.
I don’t usually find it so easy, especially not the first time, but his mouth is magic, his tongue expertly giving my body what it needs, and soon I’m on the edge, riding his fingers myself, my hips lifting to meet his every thrust.
“Fuck, Angus!”
He stills before I peak, lifting his head and smiling at me wolfishly, as I wriggle desperately on the fingers that are still buried in me to the hilt.
“Please,” I whine, wriggling again. “Please. I need to cum.”
“I love a quick learner.” He moves up the bed towards me and claims my mouth. I can taste myself on him, my needy musk. “Don’t worry, love. You’ll get to cum. The question is: on my mouth or my cock?”
Now that he’s say it, I want it. Want him inside me. Want to come apart while he splits me in two.
“Cock,” I whimper.
“That’s my lass.”
He pulls back, grabbing a condom from his wallet. I watch hungrily as he pulls off his boxers, taking him in for the first time. His length springs free, already hard as iron, and intimidatingly big. He catches me watching and smiles softly.
“There’s nothing here you can’t handle.”
I’m almost shivering with need, my stymied orgasm still front and centre in my mind, my body rippling with it.
I’m a hair-fine trigger away from exploding.
Angus opens the foil packet and slowly rolls the condom on, eyes fluttering closed as he does.
Then he’s kneeling between my legs, his dick hovering at my entrance.
I press against it, willing him inside.
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he says, leaning over me to kiss me again.
I wrap my arms around him and draw him down. “Fuck me, Angus,” I whisper in his ear. “I want you to obliterate me.”
He claims my mouth and as he does, presses inside me. I can feel myself expanding, taking him in, as he slides into me until he is buried to the hilt. We lay there for a second, as I pulse around him. I dig my fingers into his broad, muscled back, and tilt my hips, taking him even deeper.
“Careful, London. Don’t make me lose control.”
“That’s exactly what I want.” I bite his ear. “Please.”
He twitches inside me and then he’s moving, every thrust sending a wave of pleasure through me.
Within seconds, I’m back on the edge, spiralling upwards, a maelstrom of want.
And then it is cresting over me, a wave, and I come apart.
It’s like nothing I have ever feel before.
An orgasm of epic proportions, my skin tingling as I come and come and come.
Angus pulls back to let me recover. We’re both sheened with sweat, panting heavily, and he traces a finger down my front, between my breasts, bending down and capturing a nipple in his teeth. I arch into him, as he works the tender bud.
Already, I can feel my body gathering again. Begging for more.
As if he knows what I’m thinking, Angus withdraws and flips me over onto my stomach, driving back inside me.
One hand pins me down with delicious intent, while the other reaches around my hips, his fingers dipping down to find my clit.
He starts up a steady rhythm with his hips, matched by the tip of his finger, and soon I’m lost again, as he winds me up, playing me with expert hands.
“Are you going to cum for me again?”
And I am, I am, I am. He fills me perfectly, driving further into me with every thrust, and I can feel myself start to come apart.
“Fuck, yes.”
“That’s it. Cum for me, baby. Let me feel you.”
The rasp of his words tips me over the edge, and from behind me, I can hear his own moan as he quickly follows suit, my rippling pussy pulling him along into his own orgasm.
We shudder and judder together in mutual pleasure.
His hand tightens on my back, a firm, comforting pressure.
I feel him unravel, the last vestiges of his orgasm running through him.
He rolls off me and collapses beside me, and we both lay there, breathless and wondering, our limbs loose with pleasure.
Angus runs a hand over my arm, capturing my fingers with his. I lean over and press a soft kiss to his lips, and then snuggle into the soft spot between his shoulder and his chest. I can hear his heart, beating fast.
“That was…”
“Amazing? Incredible? The best sex of your life?”
I laugh. “It was alright, I suppose.”
“Alright?” Angus sputters. “I ought to throw you out of this bed for being so rude.”
“It’s my bed.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t throw you out of it.”
“Maybe later?” I trace shapes in the hair of his chest, running my hand over the hard planes of his abs. “Right now, I want to enjoy this. Us.”
Angus catches my hand and kisses it. Everywhere our skin touches tingles with soft warmth. “I could be persuaded to hold off.”
“Oh, could you now?”
“For the right price.”
“I might have to pay it in the morning.” I stretch my legs, feeling the aches and pains of the day return. “A full day of walking, dancing and the hottest sex of my life? I’m wiped.”
“So you admit it.”
I snuggle further in, so I don’t have to look at his face. “Perhaps.”
Angus laughs. “Alright, London. Morning it is. Besides, I haven’t heard you scream yet.”
“Who says you’re going to?”
“Baby.” I shiver when he calls me that. “Don’t pretend you wouldn’t shout my name from the rooftops if I asked. We both felt how wet you were.”
“You’re welcome to try.” I push him down with a grin when he lunges for me. “In the morning.”
“Guess that means I’m staying the night then.”
I wrap my leg around him. “Guess it does.”
“Thank god. I could do with a proper bed tonight. My back is killing me.”
“Is that what this is?” I tease, but a sliver of real doubt shines through. “Using me to get to my nice hotel room?”
“Well, it is pretty nice. And I did enjoy using you,” he teases back. Then he sobers. “Of course not. This is…”
“Yeah.”
We trail off. What’s happened, what we’ve done, has crossed the line we’ve been skirting the whole walk. There’s no pretending to be friends now. No going back. We’re in uncharted territory, without a map.
Tomorrow, we’re going to his farm. To my sister’s wedding.
I don’t know what that will look like. What this means.
And, right now, I don’t care. Don’t want to look at this too deeply, to scare myself – or him – away.
Right now, in Angus’ arms, everything is perfect.