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And, yeah, going to bed is fun. Mostly because the moment she starts to undress I pounce and tackle her to the bed. She never stands a chance, and doesn’t seem to wanna fight it, either.
As for the bathroom, she has first dibs, and the cooking... Well. I did try but after a few disastrous attempts, we’ve decided I’ll keep to the washing and cleaning. Best for everyone’s health.
The stitches came out and my bruised body is starting to heal. The headaches are growing weaker and don’t come on so often. By mid January when Audrey’s classes at college begin, I’m slowly starting to find my old self.
Less stressed, though. Easier in my skin. Not so afraid of the future. Audrey’s mom sent me a few phone numbers and told me which people are in charge of funding and counseling programs and can help me. I might give them a call.
As the month draws to a close, I return to my evening classes, trying to catch up with all I missed the past weeks.
It feels weird not to worry about the basics. To have a safe place to come home to, and my girl waiting for me at the door.
Believing it might all end suddenly is a fear I struggle with. Good thing Audrey seems to have enough faith for both of us.
Tonight I’m the one waiting for her. My lesson was canceled and for the first time in ages I feel good. I feel strong and well, horny. Not my fault; she’s addictive. I’ve never been so into a girl in my whole life. Everything about her turns me on—her wild red curls, her lush lips, her curvy body, her scent, her taste...
Oh fuck. I’m hard just thinking about her.
The lock turns and I walk to the door, waiting for her to come in. Then I grab her in my arms and lift her, whirling her around. She squeals and I laugh, letting her slide down.
I can see the question in her bright eyes, the question that wants to spill out of her mouth, but I swallow it, pressing my lips to hers, letting her know all I feel for her and all I want.
She smiles when I pull back and reach for the hem of my T-shirt. I tear it off and she trails her hand on the dragon tat that curls over my pec and shoulder, up where it touches my neck.
Hell. This girl can bring me to my knees just by a touch of her fingertips.
Grinning, I walk her backward, running my hands down her body. I push her blue coat off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor as I steer her toward the bedroom. Her sweater comes off next, landing in a pile by the bed, followed by her long-sleeved blouse.
God, her lacy underwear drives me crazy. It’s half-transparent—today it’s blue with tiny white flowers—and it reveals more than in hides, hugging her breasts, lifting them. I bend over and kiss the twin mounds, and I hear her breath catch. Then I press my mouth lower, until she moans and buries her fingers in my short hair. I love how her hardening nipples stretch the thin fabric, begging me to lick and nuzzle them.
When I do, her knees buckle and I lower her to the mattress, climbing between her legs to tug down her leggings. I hesitate with her lacy panties, the same color as her bra, looking at her for a long moment in her matching underwear.
So damn hot.
Then I rip the panties off and trace my fingers down the inside of her smooth thigh, to the soft red curls down there. She’s so pretty, from head to toe. I take in her scars, take in all of her. I inhale the scent of her arousal and have to still for a second, because my dick’s dangerously close to bursting.
Take it slow. That’s the plan for tonight. Make sure she enjoys every moment. Her face is alight, her eyes dark with desire. Her lashes lower when I run my thumb between her legs, spreading her open. Then I bend over and flick my tongue over her hard little knot, and she whimpers. She’s delicious, I want to eat her up and that’s what I intend to do.
But she has other ideas. “I want you inside me,” she whispers. “Ash.”
I lift my head to tell her of my plan to draw the pleasure out, make her come until she sees stars, but her expression stops me. It’s solemn; too fucking serious. Shit, something isn’t right.
“Hey.” I place my hands on either side of her head and lean over her, staring into those brilliant green eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Ash.” She threads her fingers through my hair, pulling me down. “Show me.”
I blink down at her, meeting her clear gaze, about to ask what she means—when she draws me down and kisses me. It’s slow, sweet, deep and hot. Her legs wrap around my hips, trapping my cock between our bodies, making me gasp and break the kiss. She rolls her hips in a long, endless movement.
Damn, slow doesn’t seem possible anymore, not when she presses on me like that, turning the tables. My plans for the evening fly out the window. All I want is to pin her to the bed and slam into her.
“Show you what?” I manage, my throat tight.
“I want to see you letting go,” she says. “Taking your pleasure.”
Let go. How can I let go? Raising myself on my arms, I lift my hips, pressing against her, desperately trying not to come in my pants. Trying to restrain myself with all I have. “What if I hurt you?”
“You can’t hurt me
,” she says, certainty in her voice. Her head drops back and the sight of her underneath me, only clad in her blue bra, her red locks fanning around her head, breaks my control.
