Page 87 of Once Upon A Second Chance
I don’t move either. I stay pressed against him, soaking in the solid weight of him, the way his heart thuds strong and steady beneath my cheek.
Eventually, he lifts his hand to tilt my chin up. His thumb brushes over my lower lip like he's memorizing the shape of it, and thenhe kisses me again—slow this time, deep and unhurried, like he’s savoring every second.
It’s not frantic anymore. It’s something quieter, heavier, threaded through with everything we didn’t say, everything we just lived through.
He kisses me like he’s staying.
He kisses me like he’s already home.
We end up in my bedroom without ever really deciding to move there, undressing each other between soft laughter and half-whispered apologies that get swallowed up in the growing heat.
His hands are reverent and sure, like he’s making promises with every touch. I lose myself in the feel of him—the familiar weight of his body, the newness of the way he looks at me now, like I’m not just someone he wants but someone he’s ready to build a life around.
I barely even register the hazy flicker of something I should have remembered, some practical detail hovering at the edge of my mind, before it dissolves under the next slow thrust of his hips and the low, broken sound he makes when I wrap my legs aroundhim and pull him closer.
He lays me down on the bed, his eyes dark with desire. He hovers above me, his weight careful, his hands tracing the curves of my body.
His lips trail down my neck, his breath hot against my skin, as his hands work to undo the buttons of my blouse.
I shiver, my fingers threading through his hair, guiding him lower.
I’ve never been one to hide my desires, and with Richard, I don’t have to. He knows me, knows what I want, knows how to make me feel.
The blouse falls away, and Richard’s hands slide over my bare skin, his touch both gentle and urgent.
My breath catches as his lips find the swell of my breast, his tongue teasing the lace of my bra.
I moan softly, my hips pressing up into his, my body aching for more.
“Richard,” she whispers, her voice pleading. “I need you.”
He looks up at me, his eyes burning with intensity. “I’m right here,” he says, before kissing me again,deeper this time, his hands moving to the zipper of my skirt.
Richard’s gaze rakes over me, his desire palpable, and I feel a surge of power, of confidence. I’ve never felt more beautiful, more desired, than I do in this moment.
He sheds his own clothes quickly, his body lean and muscular.
My eyes trace the lines of his chest, the dusting of hair that trails down his abdomen, and my mouth goes dry.
I reach for him, my hands sliding over his skin, my touch exploratory, hungry.
Richard groans, his control slipping as I tease him, my fingers brushing places that make him shudder.
“Penny,” he warns, his voice hoarse. “If you don’t stop, I’m not going to last.”
“Then don’t stop me,” I challenge, my lips brushing his.
He doesn’t. Instead, he rolls me onto my back, his body pressing me into the mattress as he takes control.
His lips trail down my neck, my collarbone, his hands cupping my breasts as he kisses his way lower.
My head falls back, my hands gripping the sheets as pleasure coils low in my belly.
“Richard,” she gasps, my body arching off the bed. “Please. I want your cock inside me.”
He looks up at me, his eyes dark with desire, before his mouth finds the junction of my thighs and he begins to lick my pussy.
I hear myself cry out, my hips bucking as he teases me, his tongue skilled and experienced as I feel myself slick with cunt juice as he finds my clit and sucks it relentlessly.
