“Touch me.”
“Fuck.” It’s a rough exhale, his own truth and need coming clear across the one-word response. With the hand not on my hip, Theodore lifts my chin a little more. I’m breathing in his every exhale. “Say it again. I need to hear it.”
“I need you to touch me.” The last word hasn’t passed through my lips when his mouth crashes down on mine. His kiss is almost punishing, and I feel the same. Reckless. Wild. Home. I’m clinging to him, tongue intertwining as my nails rake down his scalp, fisting the soft strands at the nape. “Please, Theo. Give me what I need.”
“My beautiful girl.” And then I’m under him, my body pinned beneath his muscled form. I’m the softness to his harsher planes, a complete opposite, and yet my curves mold to him. I’m pliant and needy and spread my thighs to accommodate his hips.
They flex against mine, his cock rubbing along the sensitive flesh trembling for him.
Lust is a powerful emotion and I’m drowning, overcome with a need so overwhelming that he shivers. His hands tremble as he cups my cheek with one hand and the other tugs my shorts off. They’re tossed somewhere behind me with my tank following a few seconds after, the sound of a picture frame falling only serving to heighten my excitement.
Theodore looks down my body in adoration. “Motherfucking perfect,” he hisses out, sitting back on his knees so he can palm himself through his jeans. The way he squeezes is rough, almost brutal, while I lay panting in nothing but a nude mesh bra and panty set. Nipples hard. Pussy wet. “I’ve wanted you like this for so long. At my mercy.”
“How long?”
“Since the first moment I laid eyes on you.” No elaboration, and I don’t know if he means my picture or the cafe, but at this moment it doesn’t change the palpable heat between us. “You’re all I think about, Gabriella.” Leaning forward, he holds himself up by one arm, careful not to crush me even though all I want is to feel him. All of him. “You’re all I want in this life.”
“Isn’t it soon?” The question slips without conscious thought and I bite my lip, hoping I didn’t ruin the moment.
“Never.” Those amber orbs traverse my body, lingering on my breasts and pebbled little tips before straying to the juncture of my thighs. There, he exhales roughly—nose flaring while taking my hips in his grasp, holding tight. Blunt fingernails dig in, a slight tinge of pain running through me, but I find myself attracted to the feeling.
To the way it settles in my core, causing me to clench with need.
And he sees this. All of me.
Neither of us talks. Words aren’t needed, but I do give him a nod. My permission to take and own. It’s my surrender, and with a growled fuck Theodore tugs at the two small strings holding my panties in place, tearing the flimsy fabric clean off.
They dig in, marking my skin in the most delicious way, and I can’t help the whimper that escapes nor the rise of my hips in offering. An offering he caresses with the tips of two fingers, spreading my wetness around while lowering his face to my chest.
He’s not removing my bra, rather flicking his tongue over the sheer material that hides nothing from him, earning a hiss from me. “Something wrong, Miss Moore?”
“No,” I whimper, voice shaky. “Just feeling very needy.”
“You have no idea what true need is, sweetheart.” Theodore blows warm air across the sensitive skin and goose bumps rise across my flesh, my breasts heaving. The tip of his tongue traces my right breast, nipping my nipple before giving the same treatment to the left. “How long I’ve denied myself. How long I’ve been patient and waiting.”
“Tell me.”
“Not yet,” he hisses out before tearing the near nonexistent material covering my chest, the small triangle dangling from his teeth. Theodore takes the fabric in his hand and puts the piece in a back pocket before biting the underside of both breasts, dragging his tongue across each before following the path down the center to my mound.
There he pauses with eyes closed and lip caught between his teeth.
He breathes in deeply and holds it.
His cheek rubs across the wet, bare skin above my clit and shivers.
This beautiful, strong, and at times demanding man trembles above me as if holding on to a control that’s slipping. As if he’s teetering on the edge, his face contorted in a reverent pain, and damn me if that doesn’t cause another rush of wetness to coat my lips.
“Theo, I—”
“Say it again. Call me that again.”
“Theo.”
“Fuck,” he snarls against my flesh, his mouth moving to where he hovers, and those eyes hold my stare. I can’t close my eyes or look away. I can’t move or plead. All I’m able to do is watch as his pink tongue touches my clit, a feather-light caress, and cry out as pleasure seizes my every nerve ending.
He holds it there. Pressing a little more firmly with each tick of the clock until his lips part and he’s sucking my tender flesh between his teeth. The sharp suction makes my eyes roll back, an action he doesn’t like, and lands a smack to my thigh. It’s loud, the sting landing right where his tongue is worshipping, licking me from my trembling bundle of nerves to my clenching entrance and back again, before sucking my lips and drawing them out.
Theodore is hungry, a deep rumbling groan escaping as he dips the tip of his tongue inside me. Lapping. Biting. Sucking until my lower body rises off the couch and moves against his mouth.
“Don’t move.” The hold on my hips tightens, pinning me down, but I only fight harder. Angry at being kept in place when all I want to do is ride his mouth. To do what my body is begging me to do naturally—seek my own release using him—but his denial is a double-edged sword. “You taste like Heaven and sent from Hell. Which one are you, sweet girl? My prize or my incarceration?”
How words and actions turn me on while simultaneously pissing me off.
But then he’s circling my clit with a building pressure, light at first and then harshly, dragging the flat of his tongue until my stomach clenches and I fist the cushions. All thoughts leave my mind. Nothing but his scent and touch exist. There’s a heat rising through me. This electric feeling as he releases one hip and brings a single finger to my entrance.
He circles the opening, toying with me while his mouth never ceases his attack on my clit. Flicking, nipping, sucking it between his lips while moving his head from side to side. And I’m thrashing, my whimpers turning into screams while my thighs squeeze around his head. It’s an action he doesn’t approve of, and when he pulls back and shakes his head at me while four fingers smack my pussy, I nearly pass out.
Then he does it again.
A total of four times, and I’m a sweaty panting mess. Wet. So wet it drips from my entrance to rosebud and onto the couch.
“Theo, I’m so close. Just a little...fuck!”
“That’s my girl,” he coos as my orgasm slams into me and I scream, my eyes rolling back while I lose control of my body. I’m crying, tears gathering at the corners of my eyes while he continues his assault, never pausing to let me breathe. He eats me through each shiver, through each hard clench of my walls, and right when the waves begin to ebb and small aftershocks remain, he slips his finger back in and fucks me with hard, punishing strokes while pinning my body with his own. “Give me one more.”
“But what about you?” He hasn’t come and is still in his clothes. Doesn’t he want to—
“My pleasure lies in pleasing you,” he grits out, chest vibrating from the guttural sound. “And right now is all about you, Gabriella. What I need from you.”
“Oh, God...I...Theo!”
“Again, Gabriella.” He curls the finger inside me, and I seize mid aftershock, my muscles coiling tight while a strange pressure mounts. It’s building rapidly and my eyes widen because it feels like I need to pee, but when I try to push his hands away, Theo pins both of mine in one of his over my head. “Don’t. Just give me one more.”
“I-I think I need to—”
“Let go, beautiful. Show me how that pretty pussy squirts.”
“I don’t know how!”
“You have no choice,” he growls out and presses harder, the palm of his hand connecting with my sensitive clit. The sensation is new and scary but damn him, it feels amazing in the most perverse way and when he adds a second finger, I’m gone.
I’m overwhelmed by this electrifying rush of pleasure that overtakes every cell in my body and then the release. It’s an explosion, a hard shock to my system that ends with me sobbing—shaking—while his pants and shirt are soaked in me.
My lips are moving, and I know I can hear myself, but rationality has gone and I’m tired. I’m already half asleep when he gathers me in his arms and takes me up the stairs to my room. Theodore lays me on the bed and leans down to kiss my cheek as though he’s leaving, but before he can pull away, I tug him down to me. He lets me, too, without protest, simply acknowledging my need without me having to ask. Theo simply removes his pants and shirt, leaving him in his boxer briefs.
A sight I’ll admire in the morning, but right now, all I want is to cuddle. To feel secure in his arms and I do just that, with my head on his strong chest and his arm around my back, drawing lazy circles up my spine, I close my eyes and give in to my exhaustion.
25
