Meant For Me (17 page)

I grabbed her hand and yanked it away from me, studying her intently. “Is this what you want? Tell me.”

She met my gaze, her dark eyes suddenly angry. I could see she was already reaching for her purse to pull out her phone for a lengthy answer. “No,” I challenged her. “Just tell me.”

It was asking her the impossible, and I softened my voice, realizing how what I had said sounded. I didn’t want to further upset her. That wasn’t my intention. It was the opposite of what I wanted. I put my hand on her cheek and cupped her soft skin. “Baby,” I murmured. “I want to have you but not because you’re hurting from seeing your sister. I want you because you want me and the sight of that bed makes you think of nothing but getting naked for me. So just tell me. However you can tell me.”

Chloe went up on her tiptoes. She kissed my earlobe, making my shoulders tense. Then she whispered in my ear, the way I’d seen her do with Sarah. “Yes.”

For a second I wasn’t sure I’d actually heard her. It was so close to a sigh, a whisper, a haunting wish on my part, that if it wasn’t for the shiver that rolled up my spine from her breath, I would have doubted my sanity. But then she repeated it. “Yes.”

And there was no way I could possibly resist.

“Chloe,” I murmured back, gripping the back of her head, wanting her to understand how important she was to me, how her whisper had touched me. “That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard. A ‘yes’ from you is the most incredible word in the English language right now.”

“Da,” she said, her breath tickling the inside of my ear.

I smiled. Now she was showing off. Even I knew that meant yes in Russian. If she hadn’t been pressed against my eardrum, it’s doubtful I would have heard her, but I liked the intimacy of how close she was. I could smell her hair, her perfume. I could feel her hip brushing mine. She undoubtedly could feel my cock hardening against her thigh.

This time when her hands wrapped around me, I let her grip my shoulders and kissed the side of her neck. If we were going to do this, we were going to do it right. And I was in charge. Not her. I was going to take her mind off everything but the way I could make her hot and wet and a whole lot of satisfied.

“Yeah? Well, if I do anything you don’t like just say ‘no’ or ‘nyet’ or ‘stop, motherfucker’ or smack my head or put your hand up. Anything and I will stop whatever I’m doing. I want you to enjoy everything.” I pulled the strap of her sundress down over her shoulder and kissed the exposed flesh. “Everything.”

Chloe nodded and gripped my shoulders tightly. Goosebumps rose on her skin and she gave a soft sigh when my hands rose and I brushed both thumbs over the front of her dress, finding her nipples easily through the fabric. I remembered how easily she had come apart under my touch at the beach and I wanted to do that and then some. I wanted to make her come over and over until she had no trepidation and no uncertainty.

Stepping back a few inches I pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it onto our bags. Then I kissed Chloe, teasing with my tongue, reading her response, adjusting so that I was kissing her precisely the way she wanted to be kissed. I didn’t adjust for me. Hell, no. She was meant for me. I kissed her the way she wanted so she could lose herself in the moment. In me.

As I deepened the kiss, I moved the other strap lower on her arm so that with a slight tug, her sundress fell to the floor. Chloe looked up at me from under her eyelashes and where I expected shyness I saw nothing but arousal. Hot, slumberous, aching arousal. The kind that only a woman feels, not a girl. I needed to remember Chloe was only innocent in the most narrow definition of the word.

Her eyes and her body told me what words could not. She wanted me to touch her.

It had been forever since I’d drawn out the anticipation of sex. Hell, even a kiss. It used to mean something, that moment where you studied a woman’s eyes, her expression, her lips. Where you leaned in, then out, hovering, maybe undecided or maybe just drawing out that magic moment where you knew you were going to come together but you hadn’t yet. Sometimes that space, that pause, could let you know exactly how much someone meant to you. If you wanted to linger, if you wanted to close your eyes and remember, they mattered. If you didn’t, then maybe it wasn’t worth it. Maybe there was no point.

With Chloe, I wanted the moment to last forever. The night to be endless. And our relationship to be infinite.

Her fingers softly moved over my chest as she traced my muscles. I did the same, caressing her shoulders, her arms, her waist. The swell of her breasts, the taut peak of her nipple. I kissed her neck, ran my lips down over her clavicle, peeled the cup of her bra down so I could press my mouth against her warm breast. She shivered and I stepped back.

“We need some music,” I said, pulling my phone out of my pants. This wasn’t just a get it on in the dark night. This was a thing. An event. A big fucking deal. I didn’t exactly have a seduction playlist or anything but it had been a lifetime ago that I’d cared about shit like that. But I put it on the indie radio station on a low volume. Just something to fill the space.

Chloe raked her hand through her hair and pulled it back off her face. I wondered what it would feel like wrapped around my fingers, gripped in my fist. So I tried it. I tugged her head back so I could see her face fully, and her neck was exposed to me. She sucked in a breath.

“You taste so good,” I murmured as I kissed her lips, pausing to see her reaction, before plunging my tongue into her open mouth.

We kissed on and on, like you did when you’re sixteen and there was no hope of going beyond the make out. When the kiss in and of itself was satisfying enough, a hot wet display of intimacy, affection, of the special secret acknowledgment that you had crossed a line into something dirty. It was the triumph of knowing you meant enough to her that she was willing to go there with you. For you.

Then it had stopped meaning anything. It had stopped mattering. No one hesitated to cross that line and there was no point in staying in that space, that mouth on mouth indefinitely magic, where you got so hard you thought you couldn’t walk and she was on the verge of orgasm from nothing but kisses.

But I wanted that with Chloe. I wanted to draw it out, to explore. To see how long we could go before pure desperation drove us to touch further. It made it less selfish, it felt like, to not just go for the hole in one.

Unhooking her bra in the back, I slid it down her arms, slowly, leisurely. When it was at her wrists, I pulled it off and tossed it onto the desk next to the lamp. I liked the way it looked there, splayed out by my phone. Then I turned and studied Chloe, registering her swollen lips, her pink cheeks, her glassy eyes. She was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling, her perfect raspberry colored nipples tight, goosebumps over her skin.

I palmed her breasts, and kissed the corners of her mouth in a way that made us both lean toward each other. She gripped my ass and stroked her way around to the front, where she found my hard cock. Her fingers went up and down on the length of it and I stepped back, ready to take my jeans off. I dropped them to the floor, kicked them away.

“Lie down, Chloe.” I took her hand and led her to the edge of the bed.

While she climbed on, I found a condom in my wallet and put it on the nightstand for easy access. I didn’t object when Chloe pulled the bed cover down and slipped under it, disappearing beneath a cloud of white down. Maybe she needed to not be so exposed or maybe she was cold in the air conditioning. Maybe like me, she was enjoying going slow, holding each other. Cuddling. For fuck’s sake, I was looking forward to cuddling.

Whatever Chloe felt for me, I wondered if it was realistic. She hadn’t seen the putrid rotting inside of me, the parts that I wanted to cut away, like the wormy bits of an apple, and toss aside. She saw what she wanted to see. Or so it seemed to me. And maybe what I saw wasn’t truth either, because I didn’t have the luxury of her private thoughts. But then again, how well did anyone ever know anyone else? Without benefit of mind reading, the miasma of thoughts that raced in and out of our heads all day long and even while we slept, were our own. We chose what we displayed or shared to and with others.

So I got into bed with Chloe and I told myself there was no feeling guilty because this was precisely what she wanted. She was an adult and this was her choice. I wasn’t sure why my conscience was hounding me for the first time in years, but I told it to fuck off. Because I could see without her saying it, that Chloe cared about me.

“Have I told you that you’re beautiful?” I asked, rolling onto my side so I could see her better.

She nodded, which made me laugh.

“Well, I’m going to say it again. You’re beautiful.” I cupped her cheek with my callused hand. Somewhere along the road of washing glasses and popping tops, I had gotten rougher hands than I’d had in school, and I felt it clearly against her smooth satin skin.

I kissed her and then I moved over her, taking my mouth down the length of her body. God, she felt amazing. Perfect. When I got to the waistband of her simple cotton panties, I left them in place, but kissed over the fabric, letting myself get a little more aggressive, eating at her sex, finding her clitoris and pulling it into my mouth with a sharp tug. The panties were a tease for both of us and she made soft sounds of distress and pleasure intermingled, her fingers reaching down to flutter over my shoulders. Her legs moved restlessly on the bed.

It was getting hot under the blanket so I nudged it back off of me and with aching slowness took down her panties. Then I eased her legs apart. Chloe stiffened and brought them back together, trapping my hands between her thighs.

“Do you want me to stop?” I asked, even though I was ninety-nine percent certain she didn’t. It had just been instinctive. It reminded me of her inexperience and I felt a deep basic male pride that I was going to be the one to take her there first.

Chloe shook her head no. She took a deep breath and let her legs relax, fall open. She was the first girl in about forever who wasn’t totally bare down there and for some reason that turned me on. Maybe because it meant she hadn’t been prepping herself for dudes, maybe because it just suited her in that she marched to the beat of her own drum, or maybe it was because there was something free and unprocessed about it, like Chloe herself. Maybe most of all it said that Chloe did what she did because of Chloe, not because of anyone else.

Using both thumbs, I massaged her, opening her folds so I could kiss and lick her. I could feel her thighs trembling and at the first touch of my tongue, she jerked a little on the bed. I used my forearms to hold her firmly in place. “Relax,” I murmured. “Let me taste you.”

She was still stiff, but as I continued to slide my tongue over her sensitive flesh and suck gently at her clit, the harder she gripped my shoulders and the louder her breathing began. When I teased at her with my thumb, plunging it inside while my tongue swirled over her swollen clit, she made a sound deep in the back of her throat that felt like the purest form of satisfaction. I wanted her to come but at the same time I didn’t want it arriving too soon so I pulled back and kissed the inside of her thighs, first right, then left. I drew her leg up and kissed the side of her knee and nuzzled her flesh down to her foot, drawing her big toe into my mouth. Chloe jerked it back and I relented, letting her have her moment of modesty or shock or whatever it was.

There was no foot fetish, I just wanted to feel every inch of her. Her movements were always so graceful and I felt that here too, even in her uncertainty and her inexperience. She had the body of a ballerina, but not the emaciation. She had more softness, heft. The long lean muscles with small but distinctive feminine curves. I came back to her inner thighs, but I just skimmed, flicking teasingly over her moist heat. My tongue dipped into her belly button. I took her nipple into my mouth, rolling the other with my fingers. I kissed her, so she could taste herself on my tongue.

And after I put on the condom, I teased my cock against her heat, running it over and over her clitoris so that she was squirming beneath me. Her cheeks and her upper chest were flushed with heat and arousal and her nails dug into the flesh of my back. She had opened her legs fully for me probably without even being aware that she had. I pressed in slightly, then pulled out again. I went a little deeper, until she tensed, then backed up, using my cock to rub over her hot clit again. I did it over and over, going a little deeper each time, letting her adjust to me, stretch, until I had sweat running down my back from the strain of holding back and she was clawing at me, begging with her eyes for completion.

Gritting my teeth, dick hard and desperate for her, I paused, brushing her hair back off her face, then without a word, I drove it home. Chloe gasped, and I saw her eyes widen with pain. But then as I paused, throbbing inside her, shocked myself at how tight and slick she felt, her shoulders relaxed and her mouth drifted open. I started to move, slowly, drawing halfway out, then sliding snugly inside her. Chloe looked mystified, restless, her eyes locking with mine than darting away. I knew what she wanted. An orgasm. I was going to give her one. Drawing her leg up and wrapping it around my thigh, so that when I stroked in and out of her I teased against her clit.

I felt her orgasm building, rising, her already tight pussy squeezing my cock so that it took everything I had not to explode inside her, to wait for her to get hers first. She reached for it, straining, her back arching, her legs squeezing, her hands gripping, her teeth biting. She wanted it desperately and when I ground into her, a thumb skimming between our bodies to strum her clit, she broke. She came in a hot rush of moisture over my dick, her head snapping back, her air cutting off. I felt the actual tremors of her inner muscles massaging me and as soon as she sucked in a deep long breath and let out a cry I joined her. So much anticipation, so much warm skin and hot kisses and naked, mingling flesh.

There was no holding back. I let go and I let her see what she did to me as we locked eyes. She tried to look away, but I gripped her chin and held her, wanting her eyes if I couldn’t have her words. I let her see what she meant to me in my own gaze as I came and she came and we came together. Came together. That was precisely what it was.