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He stills his hands and stares up at me. “Story.”
With a shrug, I start giggling. “Touché to you, sir.”
He eyes my breasts, and they demand his attention, so he begins kneading again. “It was the truth. You have great tits.”
Trying to keep up, to stay bold, I say, “I’m only telling the truth, too.”
He chuckles. “You’re out of hand tonight.” Sitting up just by using those impeccable ab muscles, he kisses me. “And I like that, too.” He takes my hand and kisses my palm before lowering it between us. With a lift of his legs, I slip back enough to expose his erection. Placing my hand over him, he covers mine and starts rubbing. With his eyes set on mine, he asks, “You like that, babe?”
I nod, a knot lumped in my throat before I can swallow it down. Leaving me to feel the length and girth as he slides his hands over my biceps and shoulders. Then he moves up my neck and into my hair with his lips following right behind. The tip of his nose toys with my earlobe when he whispers, “I want to be inside you.”
With a quickening pulse, I harness the power he’s given me and roll my head to the side, causing our cheeks to brush against each other. “I want you inside me.” I lift off and get to my knees on either side of him. Reaching around my back, I unclasp my bra, letting the elastic loosen around me.
Cooper slides the straps over my shoulders, his attention captivated as if he’s unwrapping a precious gift. He kisses my collarbone, then each shoulder when my chest is revealed. But he doesn’t stare at my chest. Instead, he warms me by pulling me close and kissing my neck, always thinking of me first from my comfort to my pleasure.
I feel emboldened in his presence, in the way he lets me lead or retrieves control when I need it. He didn’t miss a beat with my ugly scar and treated it with the same care he handles the rest of me. He made it easy to forget my flaws and made me feel beautiful for the first time.
Resting back with my hands on the mattress, I sit with my breasts exposed, wanting his eyes to drink me in and approve.
Cooper Haywood doesn’t disappoint.
His breath staggers when he takes me in but not from nerves. “You’re beautiful, Story.” Running the tip of his finger over the bud of one breast and then the other, he says, “Like seeing the sun set for the first time over the bay or catching a dewdrop clinging to a rose petal early in the morning.” He looks up again. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”
He shifts me to the side and gets up to go to his coat. “By leaving me here alone?” I joke.
Digging in the pocket, he comes back to bed and drops a condom in front of me. “Trust me, I have no intention of leaving you alone tonight. Get naked.”
He’s so comfortable in his skin that he makes me envious of that freedom. But with him, I can feel that freedom. I do because of how we are together. It’s irrational to feel this good with someone you barely know, but we’re different. We don’t need years or months to feel the connection. We’re tasting it now.
We’re creating it, molding it, defining our own path.
He climbs in bed and holds the sheet up. “You coming?”
“Oh God, yes, I want to come again.” I scramble to my feet, tasting that freedom he’s given me, and start pulling my shorts down. He watches as his hand slips under the covers, and he adjusts his body. Licking his lips, he doesn’t take his eyes off me. Even though the lights in the kitchen are on and flooding the apartment, I don’t feel embarrassed. I love seeing him turned on from his pupils darkening to the way he slowly rubs himself unashamed in any way.
I want that. I want all of this with him morning, noon, and night—the talks in bed, the cuddling, the lunch and dinners together. The sex. The making love. Whatever we want this to be, I want all of it.
Totally bare, I climb back in bed and slip under the covers next to him. He leans over, already kissing along my jaw and a hand dipping under the covers to cup my vagina. His middle finger slides between my legs, and he drags it higher, bringing it to his lips. He sucks it in, then rubs it along my bottom lip. All I taste is him. Lying back, I let the flavor consume me. He makes me want to beg, to plead, so I say, “I want you to fill the emptiness.”
Cooper dips down and kisses my head before grabbing the condom and rolling it down his length. Neither nerves nor anxiety slips into the silence, and for that, I know this is right.
