Page 52 of Omega Artist
Her nipples keep grazing my chest, driving me crazier by the second. Desperately needing more, my other hand glides down her waist to grab her shirt and stroke her skin. To torment. To tease. To taunt.
Before I realize it, her hand seizes my wrist, and she cringes. “Don’t.” Her snappy command that just broke our kiss throws me for a loop. Within seconds, her body transforms from ready to rigid.
Confused, I freeze with my eyes fixated on the wrist that she’s clutching, wondering what to do or say next. I offer a sheepish smile as an apology.
Fuck John Wayne! Note to self: Remind her she actually said that she was sorry during our first chat… What changed?
The fire in her eyes remains, but there’s resolve in them now.
Perplexed, I ask, “Hard limit?”
Still clasping my wrist, she nods, relief evident in her eyes when disappointment must be obvious in mine, even though I do my best to hide it. I want her to be comfortable around me. I would never force her into anything.
She shivers, then casts her eyes down. It takes a moment for her to look back at me. “I just...”
Instinctively, I shake my head to let her know that she doesn’t owe me an explanation and release my grasp on her derrière. Our bodies remain flush against the wall. “I don’t have to touch you where you don’t find it pleasurable.” I wish she’d let me rectify my honest mistake, since she didn’t give me any signs prior to this. I wish she’d let me make it up to her to appease my guilt. I wish she’d let me in so that I could recognize the issue.
“I killed the mood, didn’t I?” Her voice comes out strangled and she’s blinking way too much; I guess she’s holding back tears that I didn’t see coming. I don’t want to lie, so I shrug and swallow the lump that her reaction created in my throat. My disarray must be written all over my face because she feels the need to explain. “You can touch me anywhere else, you know... Anywhere but… there.” Her voice cracks.
“I can?” My hand finds her cheek and my thumb caresses her skin. A mundane gesture that reminds my cock of the many cravings it hasn’t had a chance to fulfill lately. “But most importantly: do youwantme to touch you everywhere but there, Aliénor?” Such a simple question. Such an implied meaning. Such a coveted approval.
The sound of her full name triggers something inside her, and her widening chocolate eyes instantly brighten with mischief, my apparent faux pas forgotten for the moment. “I want it...” Her tone carries so much need that I let out a pained sigh. I close my eyes as she leads my hand to her exposed throat. My thumb settles there, moving back and forth, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Her next word increases my doubt, and my eyes pop open. “Eventually.”
I need her full consent. “Eventually as in maybe? Eventually as in later? Eventually as in you aren’t interested—”
“Relax, Tig.” She winks, playful and the air shifts between us. “What I meant was everywhere but there for now,” she clarifies in a whisper.
The green light propels me into action, and I yank off her dark blue jeans. Shortly after, her dexterous fingers make quick work of my belt and zipper.
My pants fall to my ankles, putting my tented underwear on full display, and I swivel my head to choosewhereandhow, since I knowwhen.
Flashing a shit-eating grin, my arm snakes under her ass to lift her, and her legs wrap around my waist in no time. Her breathing becomes labored as she rubs her core against my erection, eliciting dirty thoughts of what I’m going to do to her once we ditch our undies. Though screwing her against my bedroom wall sounds like fun, that’ll have to wait for round two.
For the time being, I jut my chin towards the bed and effortlessly carry her to my preferred destination. Since Delia died, I’ve never brought a woman back home. I’ve never let a woman spend the night. I’ve never allowed a woman to share my king-size bed. But, she’s not just any woman; this is Alie we’re talking about.
My knees meet the mattress, and I gingerly lay her back on top of the comforter; her hands feverishly pull my tee-shirt over my head and send it flying God knows where. I’m about to do the same with hers but when our eyes meet, I get that her chest is a forbidden zone for my touch as well as my sight.
Despite the obvious disappointment that pinches my foolish heart, I don’t let this deter me from my initial plan. That’s when I notice that her gaze skidding up and down my shirtless chest. Her heart-shaped mouth forms an O at the realization that ink covers more than she saw when we exchanged pics. It canvases most of my upper body and runs inside my black boxer briefs. Her fingers stop just shy of making contact.
I take her hand in mine, wondering why she seems so distraught all of a sudden. “Here.” I lazily guide her manicured fingers over my skin, tracing the Celtic and Japanese patterns. My breathing grows heavier. “Just so you know, I don’t bite… that is, unless you ask me nicely.”
She relaxes at that. Her featherlight touches continue after I remove my hand from hers, and I’m relieved that she only stops what started as a group effort to splay her hand over my erratic heart. “You should come with a warning label!”
I can’t decide whether she’s joking, so I take another route. “Don’t worry, I’ll warn you!” I confirm and wink at my innuendo. “Let me know if this is okay,” I offer while peppering kisses across her shirt in between words. Her answer comes out as a desperate whimper, which pleases my ego. My thumbs hook on either side of her nude undies to get rid of them, the tip of my tongue tickling her bare thighs, as I work my way down her body, and she wiggles and giggles under my ministrations. “Fuck, I want you so bad,” I growl; my hunger for her is so strong.
She squirms restlessly as my tongue travels north. My knees hit the edge of the bed, again. My eyes are on hers, once more. My lips are on her well-groomed pussy, at last. I reverently kiss my way up to her hip bone and, soon after, put my middle finger to work. She lets out a powerful moan and twists uncontrollably when I insert another finger inside her. “Fuck, Alie…” My voice comes out ragged. “I love how responsive you are.”
“Faster,” she orders, tightening around my fingers, then pauses and adds, “Please.” I oblige, my heart pounding in my ears. “Give me more.” Her hoarse voice turns her command erotic, and it takes all of my willpower not to come in my boxer briefs like a high school kid.
I comply. Pushing. Swirling. Pulling… and my thumb joins the party, tending to her lonely clit. “Anything you want, Aliénor.” Her full name rolls off my tongue like honey, but there’s no way I’m pronouncing it right. Watching her so turned-on awakens something new in me. It’s egotistical, for sure, but there’s more to it—a lustful connection that I haven’t felt in years.
“Fuck, you’re gifted!” she exclaims. “You should definitely come with a warning label!”
I stifle a sigh, knowing she’s close, but I don’t want to give it to her just yet; our connection has to be complete. “I haven’t wanted anyone this much in a very, very long time.” I close my eyes at the troubling admission, hoping it’ll chase Delia’s ghost away. Relieved that it works, I survey the beautiful woman beneath me and smile, happy that my past didn’t invade my present.
My lips approach the hem of her shirt, and I halt, awaiting instruction or permission. She bats her thick lashes and rolls her shirt up a few inches. My tongue circles her belly button, marking the authorized path.
“I want you so bad, I’m not gonna last long.”
