“I’m not asking youto.”
“Good.” I close my eyes and he disappears from the bed for a moment. Did I make a mistake? Am I pushing him away? What kind of idiot refuses the opportunity to have a man make sweet love toher?
My thoughts are silenced when I feel the weight of him on top of me and he slides into me, feeling somehow bigger and stiffer than ever before. I gasp, feeling the hot sting, but welcoming the contact again,finally.
This friction between us is what my body and mind craves. Is it so terrible that my heart is taking its time learning to crave anything more? Isn’t that something to be proudof?
He inhales sharply through his teeth, then holds his breath, pressing into me, slowly building up to a rhythm, his body flat againstmine.
I hike my feet up, rest them on the backs of his thighs, and wriggle around, subtly changing angles. We are usually so much more athletic in our encounters, but he is so deep inside of me this time, fearlessly reaching a hidden part of me that needs to be reached. This time, it’s not like he’sgivingme an orgasm—-thrusting it at me—it’s like he’s offering tolet me takeit.
The dull pressure at the center spreads through me slowly, alternately pulling me inwards and towards him. It feels like I’m drowning and being rescued by him at the same time. I let out a sigh—of relief.Yes,my body is saying,yes, this is how it’s supposed to feel, keepgoing.
Instinctively, our hips begin to rockfaster.
“Erin,” hewhispers.
“Shhh.” I hold his face and I kiss him, sucking on his tongue until I have to cry out because I am so overwhelmed. I say his name. Over and over andover.
This must be what ecstasy feelslike.
My eyes are wide open. I look up at the ceiling, holding him tight when he comes. The sounds he makes are so beautiful—masculine and vulnerable—and I continue to hold him while my orgasms go on and on and on. Not fireworks, but warm waves of energy, and he holds onto me, absorbing all of it, and feeling pretty damn good about masterfully giving me what I didn’t even know I wanted, I’msure.
Chapter 18
*Scott*
When I askedCourtney to marry me it was because I felt an external familial pressure to do so. The drive I’m feeling now is entirely due to who Erin is and what she says and does and it’s all coming from me. It’s what Iwant.
She’swhat Iwant.
I can imagine growing old with her. I can imagine arguing with her about what to watch on Nick at Nite. I can imagine arguing with her about which books to read to our grandkids. I can imagine arguing with her about whether I should take Viagra or Cialis. I guess I can only imagine growing old and arguing with her—but in a happy sexyway.
Last night was amazing. Last night was different. Last night was more than just sex, that was a real connection—despite how much she struggled with it. Going so deep inside of her, hearing her say my name when she came. That was a first. She’s let her guard down with me here, and I love it. I’ve never wanted to be with anyone as much as I want to be with her, and it’s not just the craving I feel, of wanting to have her, I actually want to know her. I can’t wait to hear what she’s going to saynext.
“You’re watching me sleep, aren’t you?” Her eyes aren’t open. Her voice isscratchy.
“You aren’tasleep.”
“It’s stillcreepy.”
“But you’re so sweet when you’reunconscious.”
She opens her eyes and crosses them, sticking her tongue out atme.
I’m so glad she’s awake because I’ve been waiting forever to kiss her, itseems.
We’re lyingin bed facing each other, holding hands, playing with each other’sfingers.
When she held my hand under the table while my brother was being a dick to me—that was one of the best things anyone has ever done for me. Such a small quiet gesture, but it felt like she was lighting up a big neon sign that said: “Don’t worry, I’m here for you.” A thing like that, that means everything to me, it’s making me want to be everything to her. I’ve never felt this before. I’d do anything for her now, if she askedme.
“Tell me something about you. Somethingimportant.”
“I haven’t worn shorts in public since I was in highschool.”
“Whynot?”
“Because I don’t like the feeling of wind on my barelegs.”
