Ruthless Rival - Page 85
“We’ll be quiet after ten,” Vanessa says.
“Heard that one before.” Opal shakes her head with mock outrage. “You kids need to learn to contain yourself.” She grabs her backpack, steps into her shoes, offers me a goodbye hug. “See you then.”
“Good night, Opal,” Vanessa calls. “If I’m not here when you get back.”
Opal shoots her a get real look.
Vanessa blushes. I can tell now. I don’t see the color in her cheeks—that’s nearly impossible—but I see the change in her eyes, the curve of her lips.
Opal laughs as she skips out the door.
The thing closes with a thud.
We haven’t been completely alone in days.
It’s ridiculous how badly I need her.
But I do.
I need every fucking drop of her.
“Is it already seven?” she asks.
“Should we eat?”
“Do you need to eat?” I keep it gentle. It’s always my instinct to be firm, strong, commanding, but that’s not what she needs. She needs softness and understanding.
I’m not good at it yet, but I’m learning.
I want to be better.
That’s how I feel with her. The same way I did when we were fourteen.
Without trying, she inspires me to be better.
With her wit and intelligence and effort and passion.
And seeing this beautiful, capable, poised woman want me?
But it’s not because she’s beautiful or capable or poised.
It’s because she’s Vanessa. It’s some indescribable quality she has.
Because nearly everything she does feels like magic.
Bash is still in my head, but it’s not the way he was. Not a voice haunting me. A memory that inspires me to try harder.
And the question I have planned for tonight—
That terrifies me.
What if she says no?
What if she says yes?
What if I fuck everything up?
Everything is good right now. She’s working through her issue with her parents. With the concept of marriage. With her inability to put herself first.
She’s working a job that doesn’t take too much from her.
And I’m dealing with my grief. The waves still come, but they’re smaller, easier to ride.
And, here I am, about to ask for more.
I don’t want to fuck this up, but I can’t help myself. I’m greedy when it comes to her.
“Where are you going?” she copies my phrase. “Good or bad?”
“Good.” Scary. But good.
“I can wait to eat if you can.”
She rises from the couch and moves toward me with steady steps. She’s slow, patient, regal.
Impossibly sexy in her short wrap dress.
Impossibly sexy in everything.
I wait for her to approach.
Wait for her to bring her lips to mine.
She consumes me with her kiss. Asks for all of me. Offers all of her.
Then she takes my hand, leads me into the bedroom.
I’m not patient today. I need her too badly.
I need to feel her body against mine.
Vanessa breaks our kiss with a sigh. She looks me in the eyes and undoes the knot holding her wrap dress together.
Slowly, she pushes the fabric from one shoulder. Then the other.
She’s standing in our bedroom in only a purple silk bra and panty set.
She always is.
I take a step toward her.
She shakes her head. “Wait.” Vanessa unhooks her bra and does away with her panties.
Then she sits on the bed, spreads her legs, brings her fingers to her clit.
She draws circles on her tender flesh.
Slow at first.
Then faster, harder.
It’s the sweetest fucking torture, watching her push herself closer and closer, watching her fingers curl into the sheets, watching her lips part with a groan.
Her eyes close.
Her breath hitches.
Her entire body tenses and relaxes as she comes.
Vanessa’s groans fill the room.
She falls onto the bed, a puddle of need and satisfaction.
For one perfect moment, we both linger there, in the beautiful place where she has everything she needs.
Then she pushes herself up, and motions come here. When I do, she hooks her fingers into my belt and pulls me onto the bed.
She undresses me slowly, taking her time with every article, with every brush of her fingers on my skin.
My lips find hers.
I kiss her softly.
She rolls onto her back, pulls my body over hers, wraps her legs around my waist.
I fill her one inch at a time.
Then we move together, Vanessa’s hips arching as I meet her, pulling me farther and faster.
Again and again.
Until it’s almost too much to take.
I flip her over so she’s on top of me, so I can watch her take me again and again. “Touch yourself, sweetness.”
She presses one hand to my chest. Brings the other to her clit.
For a moment, her eyes meet mine. She holds my gaze as she rubs herself.
Then her eyes close.
She gives in to the sensation, working herself to orgasm as she grinds against me.
Then she’s there, coming on my cock, the most beautiful thing I’ve seen.
Her pulsing pulls me over the edge.
I work through my orgasm, then I collapse with her, a sweaty, sticky, satisfied mess.
We lie there together for a long time.