Page 11 of Eternal Love
“You’re sure, Julia?” he gritted out, waiting for her permission. This man really was a gentleman. Time for him to stop being so ... for as much as she wanted him undone, she needed him. The feeling grew the longer their lips had lost contact. She needed them back over hers, his hands over her, in her,now. It was like he could read her thoughts, for he got down on his knees and tugged at the zippers on her boots, kissing and caressing her now exposed legs. The featherlight brushes of his lips sent shivers down her spine. He grinned against her legs and abruptly stood, turning her so that she was facing the wall. He slipped his fingers underneath her dress, gently raising it to her waist. Her fingernails clawed against the wall, anticipating what was to come, as he made his way to her underwear. That wasn’t removed carefully, it was all but ripped from her body, as he ran his finger along her clit, making her knees buck and wobble.
Oh God, nothing had ever felt so good, so right. When his fingers were fully inside her, pumping in and out, she threw her head back, surrendering herself to the feeling. Ready. She was more than ready for him. She hadn’t even touched him properly, hadn’t even seen him properly, but she didn’t care. At this moment she would be selfish. She dropped to the floor and pulled out her purse, where Camilla had always insisted she keep a few spare condoms:You never know, girl, better to have it and not need it, than to not have it and need it, ya know. She dropped to her knees and the sheer size of him made her pause. Her throat went dry.
“What are you doing?”
“Protection,” she whispered. “I’ll put it on for you.”
He nodded, heat blazing in his eyes. Once it was on, he spun her roughly, her back to him, propped up against the wall. They hadn’t even made it to the bedroom. His tip nudged at her entrance, causing them to groan in unison. She needed him deeper. What was he doing? She made an exasperated sound at the back of her throat.
“Theodore, you won’t break me, please, come on,” she mumbled.
“Yes, yes,” he said, pushing in all the way with one long thrust. “Fuck,” he murmured, not moving his hips, like he was trying to keep himself in check.
Another time she would’ve laughed at him swearing. It just didn’t sound right coming from his gentlemanly mouth—but not now. Not now he was inside her and not moving, and it felt akin to torture. She threw her hips back, to try and gain some friction. He took that as his cue, his thrusts and movements anything but gentlemanly, as they came hard and fast. He carried an uneven rhythm, the kind where you’ve lost yourself and are close to...
He cried out as he spilled himself into her.
“I’m so sorry. It’s been ... a while,” he panted out.
She was still throbbing, propping herself up against the wall. She felt empty without him now. She wasn’t ... disappointed. He was everything she could want. She just needed it to last longer, for him to last longer, for him to take her again. She’d certainly had men last a lot less time, whose idea of foreplay was getting naked and shoving themselves inside her.
“It’s okay,” she breathed.
Maybe he’d gone a few months, a year even, without sex. She could imagine why he’d be so ready to explode, if so.
He ran a hand down her back, and suddenly she was in the air, then in his arms.
“No, it’s not,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “Allow me to show what I can do. What I can really do.”
Was that not enough? Her heart began pounding, heat flushing to her cheeks, and she could only nod eagerly as he carried her to her bedroom, laying her on the bed with such gentleness that it warmed her heart. Although she was also biting back a laugh. They hadn’t even fully undressed each other yet. Need and the moment had taken over. While maintaining his gaze, she tugged her dress over her head, next moving to unclip her bra. Her cheeks were warm as she pulled him closer to her, tugging off his shirt. She threw it to the ground ready to pull him over her, but she fumbled, her hands shaking, and paused, because he was perfect, like something she’d conjured up. His tousled hair falling into his bright eyes, his defined abs and chest, covered with his pale skin, made him look otherworldly. And he was hers.
As she admired him, he was admiring her right back. She hoped he liked what he saw. The sparkle in his eyes and the heaving of his chest said he did.
If he didn’t touch her soon, she would put her pride aside and beg. Then he was touching her, separating her legs with a sharp tug, as his tongue caressed and searched her sex until he found a rhythm she liked,loved, and she was panting, panting, panting. Her legs tightened around him as she found her release.
“Theodore,” she breathed, drinking in the sight of him on his knees in her bed, wiping her fluid from his lips. “Let me touch you,” she whispered, before sitting up on shaking legs and pushing him down. She kissed every inch of him until he was trembling, before she finally took him in her mouth. He bucked at the contact, and she laughed around him, seemingly making it worse.
“No,” he breathed. He looked like a man in battle and losing, like he wanted to make himself last as long as possible. She certainly wouldn’t be complaining about that. “No, come here.” He lay her on her back, nibbling her ear, tongue tracking over her neck, her pert nipples, until she was writhing, and it was her turn to stop him.
“Enough,” she said, and his head snapped up, obeying her, as she felt between their bodies for what she wanted. She held him at her entrance. “I’m on birth control,” she said, a silent asking for permission. He nodded and she pulled him into her. His hips rocked gently, rolling like a wave, slow and steady before building like a storm on the point of breaking. Then he repeated this pattern.
She’d never felt anything this good. He was keeping her on the edge of something that needed release. Taking his face in her hands, she pleaded, “Theodore,” with her eyes.
He understood. This man seemed to understand everything about her, about her body.
He reached down to where they were joined, rubbing her. She screamed his name as she climaxed, white stars blurring her vision, so that he shone when he found his own release. It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.
As they lay there, panting, him still inside her, he looked down on her, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear.
“You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”
Her lip wobbled, and she stroked the side of his face, not quite ready to admit her feelings for him. So she said, “Yes, yes,” hoping her eyes conveyed everything she was too scared to voice.
****
He was asleep in herbed, looking like some kind of fallen angel, dark curls tumbling over his face. She just itched to move them, but she didn’t want to wake him. She snapped a picture of him on her phone with a smile. She’d never seen someone sleep so perfectly. She certainly didn’t. Camilla rejoiced in telling her about her sleep escapades whenever she stayed over—the full litany of every undignified word she’d spoken in her sleep, her drools, her snoring. Mercifully, she wasn’t feeling tired yet; she wasn’t too sure she should be revealing her true sleeping ways so early in the relationship.
Relationship. It was like her mind stumbled and fell at that thought. But that’s what you want, isn’t it, Julia, a little voice inside her questioned. You don’t want a fling with this man. You want a relationship. You want him.
