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“You’re upset because she’s nice?” I ask, voice laced with amusement.
“My family is so messed up, Tommy... I just don’t know how to—I’m so sorry,” she says, stuttering through her tears.
“Hey, hey,” I say, trying my best to keep my words soft. “You’re not responsible for them.”
“Maybe not, but in all my life, I have never been treated so much like family. If she knew—"
“Stop that. If she knew what flaming piles of dog shit your family was, she would want you here even more. My mom has a way, I don’t really get it, but she helps people. It’s her thing, like her life’s purpose or something.”
“She doesn’t even know me!” Tilly’s sobs turn to hysterics; her emotions exposed unlike I’ve ever seen before. She’s always been so strong, so confident. My heart is sinking into the pit of my stomach, trying not to panic at my inability to ease her pain. Fuck her family. Fuck them for making her like this.
I do the only thing I can think of; hold onto her even tighter. “My mom knows I love you, Tilly. That’s enough for her.”
The words slipped out, raw and honest, but I can’t find it in me to regret them. Tilly’s tears stop abruptly, her breath seeming to cease altogether. Shit. She's staring at me, wide eyed like I just told her she has ten seconds to live. I wince, but don't break our gaze. If she's waiting for me to correct myself or backtrack, she'll be waiting forever. It's like a battle of wills and I'm determined to not break first.
Chapter nineteen
Tommy
Before I can say anything else, Tilly looks up at me, her chest suddenly rising and falling quickly. I only have a half second to prepare before her lips crash against mine. The kiss is urgent, filled with a release of all the sexual tension that had been simmering beneath the surface between us over the last few days. I respond with equal fervor, my tongue diving into her mouth.
In this moment, surrounded by the warmth of my mother’s home, I feel as though we are on the precipice of something undeniable, our kiss sealing a bond that is growing stronger with very touch. I’ve promised to be by her side. I’ve watched her suffer. I’ve brought her to meet my mother. It’s all led up to this.
Eight fucking years, I’ve waited, and I’m going to waste another second.
My hands fly down her back and I grip onto her ass. Lifting her off the ground, her legs wrap around my waist. My cock is doing a happy dance, pushing painfully against the inside of my stupidly tight tuxedo pants.
Bedroom. Clothes off. Tilly. Need. My brain isn’t making much sense at all but the next steps are clear. I need to get her onto a mattress and fast. I’m walking us down the hall with my eyes half closed. Even when they can focus, all I can see is her. Hooded eyes, and rosy cheeks, beautiful hair falling from that deliciously tight bun.
It has to be some sort of safety hazard but I can’t peel myself away. I stop half way down the hall, as she starts to slip from my grasp. Slamming her against the wall, I hike her up my body even more. A framed photo crashes to the ground, but neither of us pays it any attention. She clinging to me as my mouth goes to that sensitive skin at her throat, sucking and nibbling there like it’s the most delectable treat on the planet. And it is. It really fucking is.
The taste is a tantalizing mix of salty and sweet, so perfectly Tilly that a moan slips from my throat. I’m moving again as she writhes against me. Heat is pouring from between her legs. I can feel it through our clothes and I want it. Oh how I fucking want it. I throw open the nearest door, and we practically fall into the room. Without closing it behind us, I set her on the dresser. Several ceramic figurines fell to the ground, one shattering against the tile. She giggles, her lips never leaving mine.
"What's funny?" I growl out.
"Ah," she moans as I nibble her collarbone. "Nothing. Not funny. Happy." Her words barely make sense, but I did understand. She's happy. I smile against the skin on her neck then give her a sloppy wet kiss in the same spot. "Yes, right there. More, Tommy."
Don't mind if I do. Kicking off my shoes, my hands stay stuck to her, feeling every smooth inch I can find. Tilly is moaning against me, and I press into her harder with my hips. The entire dresser rocks against our movements. But I can’t stop. There’s too much unexplored skin between us.
She stops our kiss to tilt her head back and sigh. “Fuck, Tommy.” The words are so breathless, they’re barely intelligible, but the sound… oh that sound.
“Yes, Tilly. Yes.” My hands travel up her spine until finding her zipper. I tug it down in one motion and she shrugs it off her shoulders where the fabric piles into her lap.
She isn’t wearing a bra and I’m met with the most beautiful sight. Beautiful cream colored breasts accentuated by beaded pink nipples. My eyes widen as I take it in. Every inch is as fantastical as I imagined. "Fucking gorgeous."
She laughs again. "Any action going with those words?" I realize I've just been staring at her boobs. Maybe for several seconds. Without wasting another moment, I bend forward, kissing the newly exposed skin. My tongue is lapping the bottom of her breasts, trailing across the top of her ribcage.
Tilly arches her back and actually yelps in pleasure. I smile. She really likes that. I do it again and her response is even more vocal. But before I can lavish what I truly want, that heat between her thighs, two hands grip onto the side of my face and guide me to the nipple.
I don’t need to be told twice, I lash over the bud, taking it into my mouth and sucking hard. My dick is so strained, my hips buck of their own accord, rutting against her. The movement now slams the dresser against the wall, banging into it with loud thuds. I hear Murphy bark in the living room and free one hand to grip the door and hurl it closed. It slams but I'm still focused forward. Only on Tilly. Always on Tilly.
She gasps as I do, cupping her other breast. It’s intoxicating seeing her reactions to my touch, learning what she likes. I place my giant hand over top of hers and squeeze. I’m worried for a moment its too hard, but her entire body tenses.
“Tommy, so good,” she says, breathlessly. The words are like gasoline on a fire.
I bring my mouth back up to hers. As we crash together, our kiss grows wild, out of control. It’s all teeth and tongues and lips mashing together. But I could care less about finesse at this point. I just want more of her. Her hand travels down my stomach until finding my dick, stroking me through my pants.
Its too much. I almost can’t take it and I’m not even inside her yet. I need her fast. All of her. I pick her up again and she squeals then laughs. I toss her onto the bed roughly. I’m still fully clothed, but massage my cock through my pants as I stand over her. I feel so powerful, so utterly in control as she looks at me with dark eyes. She’s rubbing her thighs together, her hands gripping the sheets like she’s holding on for dear life.
