Chapter 95: Chapter Eighteen.-1

Half of Nora's body is on top of me, laying across my chest. Her chin is resting just below my breastbone and her fingers are playing in my chest hair. She swirls her index finger around and I watch her in silence. The air conditioner hums in the background and my mind is replaying the last few minutes over and over and over. Her cheeks are still tinted a blooming pink and she looks refreshingly, painfully beautiful. She's taken her shirt off now, and wearing nothing but those beautiful eyes, those pouty lips, and that dandelion tattoo on her shoulder. "You know, I've never had a lover be so gentle with me," Nora says, her eyes not meeting mine. She stares at my chest and her fingers continue to caress my skin. You know, I've never had anyone call me a lover, I want to tell her, but decide against it. "Is that a good thing?" I cringe, thinking of all the whips and chains and things people seem to be into nowadays. Am I too gentle? Dakota sure thinks I am. I don't want to think anymore into that... Nora beams, "Yes. A very good thing," her voice changes to a whisper, even though we're alone. "Though," she regards me thoughtfully, "sometimes I'll want you to be rough." "How rough?" I ask her, surprised by the way her words make me feel and also ecstatic that she wants to do this again. My body, though still recovering, aches to be inside of her again. One of her hands moves over mine and she guides my hand to her hair. Wrapping her fingers around a chunk of dark strands, she yanks on it. My cock throbs. "Rough enough," she smiles a delightful and mischievous smile at me. She rubs herself against me. It's like her body is completely in tune with mine. "Does that sound like something you would like?" Nora asks, her voice husky. She tilts her head down to my chest and swipes her tongue across my nipple. Her teeth graze it and she flicks at my hardened nipple with her tongue. The sensation shoots straight to my groin. No one has ever touched me there, let alone used their mouth on me. I nod in delayed response and she presses her lips against my chest. "Hmm," she makes a humming sound in the back of her throat. "I love your body," she says, moving her hands up to my neck. Her fingers skim over my clammy skin and my cheeks heat under her compliment. Her hands span my shoulders and back down my chest. It takes everything in me not to writhe under her. "You're one of those people who don't have to work out and have an amazing body, aren't you?" Nora gives me a conspiracy filled smile. "Actually don't answer that. I want to imagine that you work out twice a day to look like this," her fingers leave my chest and travel down my stomach. Her long nails drag down the ridges of muscle. I move my hand to her bare behind. "I love your body," I grab a handful of her thick ass and she purrs. Literally, purrs from my touch and I really want to hear that noise again. "You have the kind of body that men bow to you, since the history of time." I think back to all the ancient beauties and their spell on men. Despite my thorough knowledge in all things history, I can't think of one single name. "Hardly," she snorts. "I love my body," she says with certainty, "but it took me a long ass time to get there. My teenage years were awful, with every girl on t.v a size zero and airbrushed to death. Even the girls at my school, I went to a private school and they were all these tiny little blondes with rich daddies. From magazines to movies to the hallways, there were no girls who looked like me." This part of her, the insecure teenager tugs at the strings in my chest. Being with Dakota, who is darker skinned than Nora, I remember these problems coming up. If society tells us that all women should look a certain way, who are the young girls like Nora with two races running through her veins, supposed to look up to? I try to think of Nora as a happy teenager and it brings a smile to my lips. "How were you as a teenager? I would have liked to know you then," I tell her. She laughs a small sound, "Oh no, you wouldn't have. I was a wild, too wild for you." Too wild for me? Once again, I'm reminded that I'm not the life of the party. Since when is being tame so bad? Why is it that girls and women alike, always want the drama and wild nights? Why are illegal street races and arguments more fun than laying on the couch, in each other's arms and watching Netflix? What's that thing everyone is saying? Netflix and chill? Yeah, that's it. Why can't women just be happy with Netfilxing and chilling? Netflix has all the good shows and movies now anyway. "I got in a lot of trouble, with my school, my parents. To say that they were embarrassed of me would be the understatement of the century." I study her, this wild, fiery woman. "Everyone has their own way of crying for attention," I tell her, dragging my fingers down her bare back. Even her back is sexy, who would have thought a back could be so sexy? The soft line of ridges down her spine curve into her full ass and I brush my fingers over it, gently squeezing a handful of her flesh. Her eyes change, little storms brew in the green of them. "I don't know if that's what I wanted." I've offended her now. Great. "I didn't mean to upset you," I draw small circles on her skin and hope that she doesn't get up and move away from me. I like her body pressed against mine like this. I like the warmth of her enveloping me.