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I make my way down between her legs and I tease her sensitive nub with my teeth. This is what breaks her. Chils lifts her hips, eager to meet my face with her beautiful pussy.
I push her down, digging my fingers into the flesh of her hips, probably bruising her. She responds with a sound that is half groan and half whimper. Her hands grab my hair to keep me where she wants me.
I give her what she wants for a moment, and then I lift my head. Our eyes lock and the frustration on her face makes me chuckle.
“You move, you don’t come.” I shrug. This is fun, but I’m not planning on not finishing the job.
“Just fucking punish me and finish, you—”
Her words get swallowed by a sharp intake of breath as I smack her pussy with the back of my hand. Her eyes widen. I follow with four more slaps in rapid succession.
“Please,” she croons. It’s not a plea for me to stop. I bet her pussy is burning, throbbing with need, and I give her what she wants, eating her like she’s my last meal.
Chils explodes, thrashing and wriggling, and I lift onto my haunches. Hauling her knees over my shoulders, I bury my cock inside her, not waiting for her to come down before I start pumping and get her over the edge again.
This time, we reach the peak together. In perfect unison. Chils gets to abandon the world where people leave her, and I’m sinking deeper into the grasp of this complicated woman who makes me want to be a different man.
* * *
“I should go.” Chils murmurs against my chest and attempts to push away, but I tighten my hold on her.
We haven’t left my bed for hours, and it’s not even dinnertime, but she’s trying to leave. The no sleepover rule was reinstated right after her sickness. Every time I feel we’ve created a connection, she retracts like she got burned.
“You’re still in my bed, which means I’m in charge.” I kiss the crown of her head and she stays in my arms, but her body isn’t warmly languid anymore.
Still flushed post-sex, it’s more taut. Like a string, ready to snap, but still hanging by the tiniest thread. She will not make this easy.
“This isn’t a good idea.” She looks up, meeting my eyes, determined to sway everything her way—fake and as superficial as possible.
We stare at each other, and the room fills with heavy breathing. In the beat of the loud silence, I consider how bad it would be to admit how I feel. It would terrify her. I’m still scared to put those feelings into words. She would run faster than an Olympic sprinter.
Fuck. I don’t even know what exactly I feel. It’s not fake between us anymore, but I’m not ready to name it.
I know I’m ridiculously jealous of the stuffed cat and the pendant between her breasts, and it pisses me off that I can’t do much about that. I can’t compete with a dead man. I don’t want to compete for her. I want her to want me. For real.
“I should leave,” she repeats, her words coming out on a hitched breath. They hit me with a tinge of annoyance. Will she really pretend she doesn’t want to stay?
My arm is tight around her. She hasn’t moved. She isn’t struggling to get away from me. The fire in her eyes is burning, but it might just be her typical anger.
“I should leave.” Her voice trembles, weakening her resolution.
“But you don’t want to leave, Chils.” The air between us zaps with tension. “Do you?” Even the defiance in her eyes is sexy. I roll over, pinning her under me. “Do you?” I growl.
She glares at me, and I can almost hear the argument insider her head. The protective walls sounding the alarm, while the woman hidden behind them is trying to escape.
“This doesn’t feel fake to me,” she snaps. “I don’t want you to get ideas. And besides, we don’t do sleepovers, remember?”
“It’s hardly a sleepover. It’s not even night.” But she is determined to run and hide, so I change my tactic. “Let me meet you halfway. We both leave the bedroom and you let me cook dinner for you.”
“I should check on my dad.” She licks her lips, her eyes darting around, avoiding direct contact.
Oh, but she can’t fool me. “Good, let’s go and see him together, and the food gets delivered in the meantime.”
She frowns. “You just offered to cook.”
I kiss her and then jump out of bed, slapping her hip playfully. “I’d have to learn how to do that first. Chinese or Indian?”
She chuckles. “Do you even have to ask?” She swings her legs over the edge of the bed.
