Her cries pitch upward as I begin to circle her clit with my thumb, working my fingers faster as her back arches more, inner walls beginning to flutter around me.
“Are you gonna come, darlin’?” I ask in a low voice. “Let go, I wanna hear what my name sounds like on your lips when you do.”
My words send her over the edge, her pussy clamping down on me as she moans my name, riding my hand shamelessly as I work her through every last wave of her orgasm.
When she comes down, I slowly slide out of her. Holding her gaze, I suck my fingers into my mouth, licking every bit of her off before kissing her deeply.
I need her now.
“Wait,” she says suddenly, hands stilling mine where they were moving to unbutton my pants. “Can we pause?”
Kissing her face gently, I whisper in her ear, “Of course we can, darlin’. You tell me what you need and it’s yours.”
I lean back, giving her space as she props herself up on her elbows.
“It’s just,” she says, biting her lip nervously. “I haven’t really, you know, done…this.”
I immediately shift off of her so that I’m sitting on the couch, pulling her into my lap, stroking her hair as she hides her face in the crook of my shoulder.
“Things never went this far with Bennett, and I didn’t want them to. But I want to go there with you, I really do,” she says, voice muffled. “Maybe just not today.”
She looks up at me, a fear in her eyes that makes me think Bennett might have pressured her, and I immediately begin plotting how I can kick his ass and get away with it.
“I’m sorry,” she continues, “I know it’s not fair to be that girl that gets off and then leaves you hanging, but I just need to slow down. Is that okay?”
I grip her tightly, trying to assure her that of course it’s okay. “Don’t you ever be sorry, Eleanor,” I say fiercely, “I’m not keeping score here–anything we do is going to be perfect, every time. How could it not be when it’s with you?” With a soft kiss to her temple, I cradle her face, desperately hoping my eyes show just how gone I am for her. “You’re perfect. We’ll take this at your pace. I’d wait a thousand lifetimes for you, I’m not going anywhere.”
With a relieved sigh, she settles back into me, absentmindedly stroking my chest. We stay like this for what feels like an eternity, yet not nearly long enough at the sametime, holding each other in comfortable silence. When I hear her stomach grumble, I let out a chuckle.
“Do you want me to order some food, darlin’?”
“Oh my God, that would be amazing,” she moans. I set her gently beside me on the couch, grabbing her shirt off the floor and handing it to her. When she pulls it over her head, smoothing the front back into place, I jut my lower lip out, pouting playfully.
“How am I ever supposed to be content seeing you fully clothed now that I know what’s underneath?”
Rolling her eyes, she shoves my shoulder lightheartedly. “You’ll manage,” she says, a mixture of sarcasm and faux sympathy in her voice. “Can you please get me pizza before I Hulk out?”
With another kiss to her temple, I pull out my phone to place an order, pulling her feet into my lap when she stretches out the length of the couch.
I’m never going to get enough of her.
Gently rubbing my thumb over her ankle, my eyes don’t leave her face as I place the order, my heart near bursting at the happiness radiating off of her. How the hell did I get so lucky? Never in a million years did I dream that someone so wonderful existed, and that somehow that someone would choose to love me, out of all the people in this world.
As the employee repeats my order back to me, I silently mouthI love youat Eleanor. Beaming, she mouths it back, and if the world ended right now, I’d die the happiest man to ever have walked this earth.
Chapter 32
Ellie
June, Age 18
“What’s got you smilin’ over there, darlin’?”
Turning in my seat, I shift from looking out at the country fields to the cowboy next to me, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on my thigh.
Griffin has taken to wearing his cowboy hat almost every day now that we’re free from the shackles of a high school dress code. Nothing turns me on more than the look in his eye when I snatch it off his head and place it on my own before crawling into his lap. Even if he’s not technically a bonafide cowboy (a.k.a., he’s never worked a ranch a day in his life), I hope he never stops wearing it.
I spend a lot of time in the passenger side of Griffin’s truck these days. We do all the cliché things every teenage couple does–mini golf, movies, ice cream dates. But our favorite thing to do lately is to flip a coin at every intersection–heads for right, tails for left–and take those directions until we find ourselves outside the city limits.
