Page 76 of What's an Earl Gotta Do?
Oh, fuck. She had scarcely touched him, and he was already on the brink of insanity. Anne was right. He had been dreaming of her doing exactly this ever since he was fourteen years old.
He’d been dreaming about other things too, of course, but one of his favorite fantasies had always involved her taking him by the hand and leading him somewhere slightly secluded—maybe into an empty parlor, or around the corner of the stable. Or best of all, reimagining the picnic when they had been fifteen so that she had followed him into the copse of trees and wound up helping him with his “problem.” In his daydreams she would drop to her knees and open his trousers. He always fantasized that she would smile up at him with that mischievous crinkle of her nose as she took out his cock, perhaps make a little cooing sound when she found him rock hard, just for her. And then she would look up at him with those gorgeous brown eyes as she took his cock into her mouth.
Deep down, he knew it was stupid. Fourteen-year-old Anne never acted that way, and even if they married someday, he knew one didn’t do such things with one’s lady wife. It was just a dirty, delicious fantasy for him to think about while he was tossing off. He had always understood it was never going to happen.
Except… it was happening. And, God, her lips wrapped around his cock felt a thousand times better than his wildest imaginings.
Clever girl that she was, she had already mastered the way he liked his cock to be stroked. Her hands were so soft and so sweet, and she was using both of them to stroke up and down his shaft. And oh, God, the feeling of her mouth! Gad, she swirled her tongue right over his head, where it felt so, so good! God, he wanted to come.
As he watched Anne slide her mouth up and down his cock, she flicked her eyes up to meet his, and he saw her nose crinkle in delight at the sight of him feeling such amazing pleasure.
It was his every fantasy come true. His ballocks tightened and he felt the familiar twinge as he passed the point of no return. He knew he was going to come, any second he was going to come, and he felt the undiluted pleasure of being right there on the brink. He heard himself calling her name, and his hands went to the back of her head, urging her on. Then he felt a white-hot burst of pleasure as he climaxed in her mouth.
He saw Anne’s eyes widen as his seed filled her mouth, but she didn’t stop, game girl that she was. No, she kept stroking him, drawing out his pleasure, until all of a sudden it was too much, and he combed his fingers into her hair and gently drew her off.
Her mouth came off his cock with a pop. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes had that glassy quality about them that he loved to see. He kissed her deeply, and she moaned and squirmed against him.
Remembering her words about how just thinking about his cock inside of her had made her want to come again, he pulled her up so that she straddled his mouth and began working her nub with his tongue while he slid two fingers inside her and massaged that special spot on the front side of her inner wall. Apparently her words about wanting another climax hadn’t been just for show, because her response was a desperate, “God, Michael, please!” and she began touching her own breasts. It only took a minute before she was screaming his name and pulsing above him as he enjoyed the sweet nectar of her pleasure.
Once her trembling subsided, he pulled her down to lie with him, propped up on the pillows together, her head on his shoulder.
"Mmmmmmm," he murmured, leaning over to blow out the candles on her nightstand. Only a trace of moonlight through the window illuminated the room.
Anne giggled as she snuggled into his warmth. “I enjoyed that. Torturing you,” she clarified as he raised an eyebrow at her.
“Well, seeing as you enjoyed it so very much, I will graciously suffer through it again, as often as you would like.”
“How magnanimous of you,” she muttered, settling into a comfortable position on his shoulder.
He kissed her cheek. “I love you, Anne. God, I love you so much.”
He felt her stiffen in his arms.
Chapter 27
“I love you, Anne. God, I love you so much.”
Anne froze, unsure how to respond. After a moment, Michael gave her a gentle squeeze. “Is everything all right?”
She swallowed. Should she say it back? Because she loved Michael. Of course she did, he was her best friend. It was just that she wasn’t sure if she was in love with him. Which wasn’t to say that she wasn’t, it was just that… her world had been turned upside down in the past twenty-four hours, then flipped around and shaken for good measure. She was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that Michael loved her, to say nothing of the news that her former husband had deceived her. Then there was the fact that Michael was going back to Canada.
Anne couldn’t move to Canada. It was impossible. And it seemed that her brain was balking at even considering whether Michael, who held the distinction of being both her favorite person on the face of this earth, and the man who was going to leave her, might also be the love of her life.
Some things were too terrifying even to contemplate.
Michael was still waiting for an answer. “It is, Michael. I just… I can’t quite believe you feel that way. About me. It’s… a bit overwhelming, truth be told.”
He propped his head on one elbow so he could look at her. “I know I bombarded you with it this afternoon. With that, and with everything else. I hope it doesn’t make you uncomfortable to hear me say it. I’ve been longing to say those words to you for almost a decade, and I can’t bear to hold them in anymore. I want to tell you that I love you a thousand times a day.”
He reached out and tucked an escaping curl behind her ear. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t expect you to say it back. I can see the uncertainty on your face. And honestly, I would rather you not say anything just yet. Because when you tell me that you love me,” he said with a pointed look, a very Michael look, “because I know you will one day, I don’t want it to be because you know how much I want to hear it. I don’t want it to mean that you love me like your best friend in the whole wide world. I want to know that you mean it without a single doubt in your mind. That you mean it in the exact same way I mean it when I say it to you.”
Anne sighed. How like him to have read her so well. “You’re talking as if we’re going to have the rest of our lives together. But I still cannot go to Canada. After everything you saw today, surely you understand that. I have hundreds of people relying upon me for the roof over their head and the bread on their table. Orphans and widows and children, Michael! I cannot abandon, them, I—”
“I do understand that.”
Something that felt distinctly like hope bubbled up in the center of Anne’s chest. “Then… have you changed your mind? About going back?”
He sighed, and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. “No. I still mean to go back.”
