Everything Between Us (14 page)

“Oh,” I whisper, sighing as he strokes me from the inside now, my hips bumping against his hand, craving a little more. “That’s, um …” So different than when I’ve touched myself. Something about the closeness of his body, his scent, his heat, twists together to intensify every sensation.

He smiles, his eyes drifting over my face, focusing on my lips. “You are so perfect,” he says to me. “You don’t even understand.” He pulls his finger from my body and I feel my own slickness as he guides me to lie down on my back. His face is lit by the glow of the fire, and his stubble glints with gold.
He’s
the one who’s perfect.

He lowers his head and kisses my belly, his hands traveling up my legs to caress my inner thighs. I can feel his smile against my hip, but then I gasp as he bites at my hipbone. As he trails further down, I start to get nervous again. Is he actually going to—I cry out as he quickly moves between my legs and presses his mouth to me. He holds my thighs against his cheeks as his tongue invades my body. I don’t have a chance to freak out because oh, God, it’s wet and soft and hard at the same time. My muscles clench, and I begin to tremble. He moves so fast that I can’t keep up. Uncontrollable, broken sounds are coming from my throat, and I squirm as he pushes his face closer. I can’t escape, nor would I want to. Warmth uncurls inside me, spreading through my belly, up my spine, until my head snaps back, until my heels are digging into his back, until I’ve completely lost awareness of myself or what I should be doing. I can’t remember what I’m supposed to be worrying about. All I am is sensation, and I open my mouth to tell him that I need something, but all that comes out is his name. That fluttering, merciless slide of his tongue inside me, along the center of me, everywhere at once, finally breaks me apart. Daniel feels it, and he moans against me, the vibrations  intensifying the pleasure. His fingers tangle with mine, letting me know he’s there as I surrender to him, to my own body. It’s so reassuring, knowing he’s holding me tight, that he’s not going to let anything bad happen. The miracle of it is so fantastic, so freeing, that tears streak down my cheeks, and I don’t even care.

Daniel covers me with his body and cradles my head against his chest. When he kisses me, he tastes different, and I realize it’s because I’m tasting myself. It’s a slow, deep kiss, and I accept it. I don’t taste … like much of anything. And it’s a relief, because I was worried it would be bad. His heart is beating fast; I can feel the tick of his pulse under my palm as I touch his neck. “Thank you,” I whisper to him.

He lays his forehead on mine. “We’re only getting started, Stella.”

Chapter Eleven: Daniel

There was a moment when I thought she was panicking. She was so pale, and she was shaking, and I thought I’d lost her. But when I made it safe again, she settled down, and the relief was overwhelming. It hit me, how much I want to do this, how badly I want to be the one. And now that I’ve tasted her, now that I’ve felt her come and heard how it sounds, now that I’ve had her thighs tense at my touch and her juices in my mouth, it’s all I can do not to push it all the way right now. My cock is throbbing to the point of pain.

No way am I going to rush this, though. A little anticipation only makes it better.

I hold her for a while after I make her come a second time, letting her relax into it. She’s getting used to being naked with me, and she doesn’t even realize it. She looks up at me with those big brown eyes, and all I can think is
this is real
. I want to give her everything, anything to get her to keep looking at me like that. It feels
so
fucking real, like it’s just for me, only for me, because of
me
. Hearing my name come rasping out of her while my tongue was buried inside her … I almost came in my pants.

I can still taste her in my mouth as I lie on my back with her head on my chest. Her hair spreads across my shirt, silky and thick. It smells incredible, and I want to bury my face in it. Everything about her makes me want more.

Especially the way her fingers are sliding up under my shirt right now. They trace along my abs, lighting me up. Her eyes meet mine, and they reflect the orange flicker of flames. “I want to see your body now.”

“Okay,” I say, my voice a little strained. That was it, that bold, predatory Stella look that I captured with my charcoal pencil a week or so ago. It stirs inside me, makes me its slave. I sit up, and so does she, forgetting to be self-conscious, giving me a full view of her pale flesh, her full breasts, because she’s too busy watching me. I get to my knees and pull my shirt over my head, my heart thumping, wondering how she’ll react.

She puts her hand on my stomach, which tightens instantly. Without taking her eyes off my body, she rises to her knees, too, running her palm over me. Most women focus on the tattoo, which covers one of my pecs and ends in curving spikes along my shoulder and neck. Nate and I got tattoos before he shipped off—he’s got a similar one around his bicep. I had no idea women would love it as much as they did, but I guess it’s a thing. It’s become part of the show—they see it, run their fingers along the curves, speculate nonsensically about what it means, and never notice what’s underneath. But Stella barely glances at it. Her hand smoothes over my other pec. “You have no hair on your chest,” she says.

“I wax it,” I tell her, bowing my head. Figures. She looks right past the decoration and points out the silly vanity beneath. I’ve never been the least bit self-conscious. I keep myself in really good shape, and I wax because … “Women seem to prefer me that way,” I mumble. Good God,
now
I’m feeling self-conscious?

Her warm hand caresses my face. “Do
you
like it?”

I glance at her through my hair. “It’s a means to an end.” Too honest. I’m being too honest.

Her full lips twitch into a little smile. “I think you’d be beautiful either way,” she whispers, leaning down to kiss my shoulder. Her breasts brush my chest, and that sensation of skin on skin is unbearably delicious. I reach for her and press her against me, warm and soft, molding to all my hard lines. I skim my fingers through her hair, and she kisses my neck, my shoulder, her hands skating over my body, exploring. I have to let her do this, but it’s making me a little crazy. I stay still as her tongue flicks out to taste me, trying to master the desire to move, to take charge.

Her fingers work at the button of my jeans, then she lowers the zipper. She’s shy, slow and hesitant, but eager all the same. I hope she doesn’t change her mind now. Her hands are everywhere but where I want them, teasing me, running along my hips and still-clothed thighs, the back of her hand brushing my dick and making it jerk. Finally, I can’t take it anymore. I strip, shoving my pants and boxer briefs over my thighs and pulling them off, along with my socks, and tossing the entire mess over the soft wall of our nest. Praying she doesn’t decide she’s getting more than she bargained for, I kneel in front of her, far enough away that we’re not touching.

She looks me up and down, her gaze finally focusing on my cock. She glances at my face and bites her lip.
Fuck
. She’s going to back out. How is it that this girl can make me feel so young and stupid? No one makes me feel that way. Now I’m all nervous about what she thinks, whether she finds me ugly or frightening or—

“Can I touch you?” she asks softly, her fingers fluttering at her sides.

“Please,” I say, my eyes falling shut with relief.

She sits down, so she’s closer now, and my cock is out there between us, begging for her. Leaning on one hand, she trails her fingers along its length. Up and down. Slow. Watching every breath I take, seeing how she affects me. She circles it with her fingers, her grip firm, less hesitant. I can tell she doesn’t know exactly what she’s doing, but in a way that makes it even more electric. I don’t know what to expect from her. And when she leans forward suddenly and her tongue sweeps along me, base to tip, I nearly lose it.

“Aaah,” I mutter unsteadily. “Maybe … maybe not this right now.” I tilt her head up and lean down to kiss her, trying not to think too hard about how that felt, how incredible she looked while she was doing it. “Did I do something wrong?” she asks, pushing on my chest, refusing to accept my distraction.

I shake my head. “I’m just …
really
turned on right now.” I can’t let her tip me over the edge before I’m ready to fall. Besides, this isn’t about her having to please me. And pleasing her happens to work pretty well for me, too. I lower her onto the pillows, dropping teasing kisses along her throat, wanting to erase that glint of anxiety in her eyes.
Make this good for her.
I force away my other thoughts, about how I want to make it so good that she can’t forget me, so she misses me once I’m gone. Of course I don’t want her to miss me. And I don’t want to miss her either. While I’m here, though, I’m going to savor every second of this.  

I nip at her bottom lip as my fingers delve between her legs again. She opens for me, so trusting, and I slide one finger inside her hot, tight channel, working my thumb over her clit. She moans and I swallow it up, pushing deeper. Her hands are on my chest, fingernails scraping at my skin. I pump my finger, and when I feel the easy slide that tells me she’s wet enough, I add another. Her lips part, and her hips start to move. I’ve never felt anything this pure and lush. I can’t believe this is happening. I’ve had sex with so many women, but this is different somehow. So many things I want are wrapped into Stella’s body, and I’m desperate to make it sing for me, to claim her for myself. I spread my two fingers inside her, stretching her a little. I don’t want to hurt her. I wish it didn’t have to hurt at all. But again, since it’s going to, I want it to be me, because I’ll take care of her. I won’t leave her scared and alone and regretting.

Stella’s fingernails begin to cut into the skin of my shoulders, a kind of pain that only makes me want more. She’s slick and ready, on the verge of another orgasm. Now’s the time. “We have to take a little break right here,” I tell her, kissing the tip of her nose. “I’ll be right back.”

I should have planned this in advance, but my brain has been utterly fogged with my desire for her. I’m grateful that I happen to carry rubbers in my toolbox. Naked, my hard-on bobbing in front of me, I scoot down the hall, dig through my art supplies, grab what I need, and jog back to the family room. Stella peeks over the edge of the nest. “The human body is kind of funny, if you think about it,” she comments, watching my cock.

It’s such a
Stella
comment. Completely honest in a way that makes you stop and really look at how things are. “Definitely funny,” I admit, unable to keep from chuckling as I join her in our nest. “But when they fit together the right way, it’s kind of nice.”

“Nice,” she says uneasily, watching me pull the flat foil package from the box.

“Maybe that’s not the right word,” I say, ripping the package open. I’ve lost a little stiffness, but she reaches down and helps me out. It doesn’t take much, because the mere sight of her hands on me brings me to full attention again. “Do you—do you want to—”

I sound like a nervous school boy. Stella’s making me feel like it’s my first time right along with her. She takes the condom from my hand and peers down at it. “I’ve only ever seen this maneuver performed on a banana,” she says, and we both start to laugh.

“But I guess you were paying attention,” I stutter, watching her lips form a smile as she rolls the rubber onto me. There’s something so simple and comfortable and safe and honest about this. Neither of us is trying to play a role or be different than we are. She’s not trying to be some kind of sex goddess or put on an act; she’s just herself, her frank, curious, smart, adorable self. And me … I have no defenses against her. I’m so fascinated by her, so wrapped up in who she is and what she’s doing that I have no mental energy left to pretend. All I want to do is be here for
her
. It makes me want to confess: this isn’t a business arrangement. Everything about it is personal in the deepest kind of way. But my words would be useless. She wants it to be about the experience, not about being with me, and I’ll let her have that.

She looks up at me in triumph. “All set.” She looks proud and nervous and insanely cute. I take her face in my hands and kiss her, my lips lingering on hers, nibbling and teasing as I start to touch her again. I flatten my palm on her chest and push her down, and her heart thumps against me like a caged bird.

“Any time,” I whisper in her ear, my hand sliding over her belly. “You can stop this at any time. There is no point of no return.”

She turns onto her side, keeping her knees open to give me access. I slide my fingers through her slick folds. Her breathing is faster now. She whispers my name. I nuzzle her neck, aching to be inside her, my own heart pounding.
Please, let this go right.

Soft, pleading noises come from her mouth, and I look up to see her eyes clamped shut.

“Do you want me, Stella?” I ask her.

“Yes,” she answers immediately. “Please.”

I lever myself over her, positioning myself between her legs, my muscles tense and trembling. “Then guide me inside you.” I take her hand and circle it around my cock.

She pulls me, places me at her core without even hesitating. I brush my lips across hers. “Hold on to me.” She puts her hands on my waist, squirming against me, so hot, so eager. I close my eyes, sending a silent apology in her direction and a prayer skyward. Then I rock my hips forward.

She makes this little gasping sound, and I open my eyes and focus on her face. I’m only a few inches inside her, and it feels so good I can barely stop myself from thrusting full force. I pull out a bit and push in again, further this time. “How we doing?” I ask her.

“I-I’m okay, I think. It—aah.” She gasps again as I take advantage of her distraction and push deeper.

“Stella,” I say. “Look at me.”

She obeys, and I instantly regret it. Her brown eyes nearly undo me, trusting, but now with a glint of uncertainty and pain and pleading.
This is the only time I’ll ever get to do this with her.
That knowledge makes my chest tight, and I have to shove it away. I stay still for a few seconds, letting her body get used to mine while I get used to the devastating avalanche of want crashing down on me. I kiss the corner of her mouth. “You’re in charge,” I murmur to her.