Chapter 45 It's always been you
As I’m moving my leg back around him, he grabs hold of it and kisses my leg, ever so lightly running his tongue over my skin, upwards, he travels higher and higher, teasing my skin with his tongue and light kisses until he reaches the apex of my thigh.
I feel heady with desire, I feel like I can't take more from him before I release or I can take this and even much more. All I want is him, now. I don't care anymore, Pine makes great love to me, but this, this is different it is something I have always wanted.
Lifting his head, he stares up at me. My mouth goes dry from that one look alone. I moisten my lips with my tongue.
His eyes flicker and flame. Without taking his eyes from mine, he slides his fingers between my panties and skin, I tremble from the touch only, then very gently he pushes his finger inside me. I almost come on the spot. This was is good.
Rubbing his thumb over my sex, he starts to kiss a path up my stomach, to my neck, my jaw, my mouth, all the while, his fingers working their magic on me.
“Ahh,” I moan, closing my eyes.
“Is that good?” he asks rough.
“So good,” I breathe.
"Then open your eyes, look at me Shia."
I struggle to open my eyes, all I can see is his smile I can't explain it now. I just his touch and more of him.
Pine never plays with me that much he always knows I need him, and sometimes I always think he's just trying to hold back for me. I need it whole. I need to be fucked sometimes, rough and quick not making love.
Needing to feel him gets over me, I reach my hand down and wrap my fingers around his hardness. Taking a firm hold on his dick, I start to move my hand up and down.
He makes a low guttural sound in his throat, then curses, he then pulls his finger out of me so quickly that I gasp.
Then he’s ripping my panties off. And when I say ripping, I mean he actually tears them off, shredding them. No one has ever done that to me before, and it’s insanely hot.
Leaving me wanting, he reaches down to the floor, picking his jeans up. I hear rustling and then he’s returning with a condom in his hand and a question in his eyes.
He’s asking for my permission. He wants me to say yes.
I want to say yes. More than I’ve ever wanted anything before.
With trembling fingers, I take the condom from his hand and tear the foil open with my teeth.
His eyes are wide and flaming. His breath’s already heavy and it's kinda alarming to what he's going to do to me just after he enters me. All I know this whole night I'm going to scream out of immense pleasure.
He kneels before me.
I reach over, and with shaky fingers, put the condom on him. I can feel his body trembling under my hands.
It does extraordinary things to me. I’m literally panting with desire.
He moves between my legs, resting up on his arms, hovering over me, he starts to kiss me hard on the mouth again.
I grab hold of his backside pulling him closer to me. I just want him inside me. I want him so much. I’m aching to feel him. Years and years of wanting him, coursing through me.
He pauses, breathing heavily and lifts himself up on his arms, away from me, parting our bodies. “You’ve been drinking, Shia. Maybe we shouldn’t do this now, maybe we should wait.”
What? Is he joking?
I look up at him. No, he isn’t.
He waits until we’re this close to pause. To think.
I don’t want to wait. I don’t want to think. And I’m the one who really should be thinking right now out of the two of us.
My body is screaming for him. I need him to relieve the ache I have for him. The one that has been trapped in me for well over a decade.
I lift my hips, meeting back with him, pressing against him. “I’ve waited long enough,” I breathe.
Whatever control he was trying to maintain instantly vanishes. He's always wanted me so madly that I'm sure, it's just like how much I've been fighting myself to admit that I also want him.
Then he’s back on me, pressing me into the bed, fisting my hair, kissing me deeply, holding me in place.
I kiss him back equally as passionate, my hands on his back, gripping him to me.
I want him so badly, but now I’m also feeling a little nervous about his size.
Natte must sense this, because he whispers, “Don’t worry, I’ll take it slow.”
He slides his hand under my lower back, lifting me up, he very gently, and very slowly eases himself into me.
I gasp, all but convulsing on the spot. He is filling me and more.
“Are you okay?” he asks, voice soft, lifting his head to look at me.
“I’m better than okay.” I reach up and pull his mouth back down to mine.
He moves his hand out from under me, but I leave my hips lifted, meeting him, as he slowly pulls out and then rocks back into me, going in a little further, a little deeper.
I moan in line with the feeling.
“Jesus, Shia,” he groans, gently biting down on my lip. “You feel amazing.”
I try not to think of how many women he’s said the very same thing to.
Then as if reading my mind, he stops moving inside me.
Holding my face with his hand, fingers are deeply buried deep in my hair, he stares down at me in the darkness.
“It’s always been you, Shia. Always.”
And suddenly it doesn’t just feel like we’re having sex anymore. It feels intense, meaningful and most importantly passionate.