Page 77 of The Hookup
She wanted to obey, to give him what he wanted, but on her terms. She stood up then pulled her dress up and over her head, tossing it to the floor. He sat up, his hungry gaze roaming all over her body. Instead of removing her undergarments, she knelt on the floor, inching forward until she was between his legs. Placing her hands on his thighs, she leaned towards him, boldly, brushing her lips against his, seeking, judging, feeling tentatively, before pushing her tongue into his mouth and gently exploring.
She was blatantly disobeying him, and taking charge, doing what she wanted, for a change. And he was letting her.
Her hand trailed along his inner thighs. Reaching between his legs she placed her hand on the fabric of his sweatpants, making him gasp out as she stroked the length of his hardness. This was a rarity for her, she who had always let him take her however and whenever he wanted, now she was doing things her way.
“Lie back,” she ordered, freeing him from his sweatpants and boxers, pulling them down, hearing another loud sigh escape from his mouth. But it wasn’t a ‘no’. He didn’t stop her.
She wanted to make him forget the pain of his past, and this was the only way she knew how. Curling her fingers around him, she stroked him slowly, while sliding her other hand over his inner thigh.
He didn't stop her—most men wouldn't have—but with Luke she could never tell. He liked to be in charge, and he never freely gave her power in bed. This time he was letting her have her way. She pumped him slowly at first, and moved her thumb over his silky tip. He jerked, and she stole a look at his face, eager to see his reaction. A sigh, more like a sound of deep appreciation, escaped his lips and his contorted expression, his closed eyes and relaxed face, told her he was deep in the throes of his ecstasy. She licked her lips before gliding his length into her mouth slowly, and was rewarded with a curse and her name falling from his lips.
She started slow, then picked up in the pace, moving faster and faster, her own arousal building from the sounds of his appreciative groans. His hand raked over her head, yanking a handful of hair, but she lost herself in the moment, wanting to pleasure him to the end, knowing that he needed it.
The speed and ferocity of his release, when it came, consumed them both. She wiped her mouth as he let out a sigh, his chest rising and falling, as if he'd run a mile.
“Sorry,” he said, breathless. “I didn't mean to—”
She scooted onto the bed and kissed his chest. “I wanted to,” she said, easily, the happiness inside her rising like a soufflé, knowing that something she had done had made him feel better. He opened his arm, and she slid in, nestling her head against his chest.All those other times they’d met for sex, this was what he had denied her, and she had hungered for it.
She lay alongside him, still in her bra and panties, while he was fully clothed. The mask he often wore guarded his inner feelings, but she had seen it stripped bare this evening. Holding her,his defenses seemed to have crumbled, and theweight somewhat lifted. Now he looked relaxed, and it made her happy to know she haddone that for him.
They lay like that for the longest time, and her cocooned in his arms, him holding her close as if he needed her.
She hugged him without thinking.
“What?” he asked, kissing the top of her head.
“Nothing,” she replied, kissing his chest. She was happy, that’s what, and as much as she wanted to tell him that, something made her hold back. If his mask had slipped, it would only be a matter of time before he put it on again, and she didn’t want to risk messing things up. She didn’t want to presume too much, and as much as she wanted to lie here all night, she couldn’t.
She soon had her answer when the sound of soft snoring told her he wouldn’t be able to rise to the occasion again; therefore the only alternative was for her to go home, even though she was loathe to leave him.
Silently, she moved off the bed.
“What are you doing?” he asked, opening his eyes. He lifted his head up as she slipped her dress over her head. “Getting ready,” she replied, trying to do up the zipper at the back.
“For what?”
“To go home,” she replied, puzzled.
“You don’t have to.”
“But…” She didn't know what to say, because that had been the arrangement. He’d told her from the start. “You always want me to go.”
He got out of bed and walked towards her. She didn’t dare to breathe. He was so changeable, she never knew where she stood with him.
“Stay with me tonight.”
“You want me to stay?” she asked, making sure even as her heart seemed to miss a beat. Maybe it was starting to happen—that this was turning into more than just sex. Shewasbeginning to matter, and he was beginning to care. She pulled the zipper up slowly then switched her arms to pull the rest of it up with her other hand, but he came up behind her and stopped her.
“Yes,” he said, standing so close behind her that she could feel his breath against her neck. “Stay, not because I’m asking you to, but because you want to.”
Her mind fought to make sense of it all. Too much had happened today. He wanted her to stay. Thingscouldchange. Thingswerechanging. He cared about her, and she now understood more about him.
“I want to fuck you.”
And with those words, her hopes and happiness plummeted.
Her head fell to her chest as she closed her eyes at the blow. Who had she been kidding? “I should—I should go,” she said, scrambling to pull herself together, forcing her voice to sound louder and steadier than she felt.
