Chapter 40 - Naomi
I’ve missed this—our sex. I’ve missed it all. Lazy mornings with him, long evenings talking, or even the times where we said nothing at all.
But the sex… the sex I’ve definitely missed. I’ve tried to pretend that I wasn’t missing it, but my body has felt like a shell of what it was when we were together.
Within minutes, he’s ignited the fire inside me again.
I can feel his length against my stomach, and all I want to do is make him feel as good as he makes me feel. Whatever is between us, as confusing as it is, I know it’s real. It’s love.
We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.
It only takes a couple frenzied seconds for us to get all our clothes off. My hands are around his shaft in an instant. He groans when he sees me moving closer to it. When I take it in my mouth, he sighs, running his hand across my shoulder.
“That feels so good, Naomi,” he moans.
I make a noise in response, wrapping my fingers around the base of his shaft. I love making him feel good. I like seeing this big, powerful man melt at my touch. It turns me on so much to know that I’m doing this to him—these noises and moans and sighs that he’s making—that’s because of me.
He lifts my head off him, shaking his own.
“You’re not getting away without me being inside you,” he growls.
I grin. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
He picks me up easily and I wrap my legs around his waist. He carries me to the bedroom and lays me down, groaning as he leans his body over mine.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve dreamt of this.”
“I have some idea,” I respond.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Probably half as many times as I have.”
He chuckles, brushing his lips against mine. He shifts his body and I feel the tip of his cock brush against my slit. I shiver, spreading my legs and wrapping them around his waist. The feeling of his skin against mine is intoxicating.
When he enters me, the whole world disappears. I sigh in contentment, melting into the pillows and wrapping my body around his. We move as one.
When I come, I know that Max is the man for me. I know that there’s nowhere else I want to be other than his arms. I know that there is no one else, nowhere else, nothing else that will make me feel as good as being right here in his arms.
The pleasure heightens my emotion—or maybe it’s the other way around. Maybe it’s knowing that I don’t have to fight it, I can be with him. I can let myself love him fully and completely.
Once I let myself do that, my orgasm floods through me like a dam breaking. It crashes into me without hesitation, carrying me into a world of ecstasy. My body holds onto his and he moans into my skin. His teeth drag across my shoulder, and I feel him get harder as he drives himself deeper into me.
We’re panting, sticky with the sweat and heat of our desire. Of our pleasure.
Of our love.
When it’s over, he stays inside me and kisses me tenderly. He slides off me, draping his arm across my chest and sighing as his head hits the pillow.
“I think I needed that,” he groans.
“I definitely needed that,” I laugh. “Haven’t had an orgasm in way too long.”
“No?”
I snort. “Well, I haven’t exactly dated anyone since you,” I admit. “And I guess I just didn’t really feel like masturbating unless entirely necessary.”
His fingers caress my collar bone, and I turn to look at him. I smile.
“I haven’t been with anyone either,” he admits. “I couldn’t even look at other women after you.”
“So I guess we’re stuck with each other, then,” I grin.
“I guess so. You wanna save some time and get married?” His eyes flash and a grin spreads across his lips.
I laugh, pushing his shoulder and swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. “No. Not yet. Not for a while.”
“I can deal with ‘not yet’,” he grins.
“You think that wine has breathed enough?”
“I’d say so,” he grins.
“I’ll go get cleaned up and grab our glasses,” I say. He smiles at me, and I slip into a towel. I go to the bathroom to wash our sex off my body, and then tip toe to the living room to grab the wine. I can see some food he’s laid out on the counter and I go to investigate.
I smile when I see bruschetta. I stuff one piece in my mouth and carry the platter over with one glass of wine. I set the glass on his side of the bed, jogging back out to grab my own.
“Dinner in bed,” I grin as I come back in. He’s already chewing on a piece of bruschetta, nodding at me and wiggling his eyebrows.
“Starving,” he says with his mouth full.
“Me too,” I say, grabbing another piece.
“I’ve got some salmon for us, should only take a few minutes to cook up.”
“Let’s just eat this, and drink these,” I say, lifting my glass. “And then we can reassess.”
He arches his eyebrow, and I grin.
“You never know what we might want to do after a little snack.”
“I’ve got a couple ideas,” he says, lifting my hand and pressing his lips against my fingers. His hand drifts up my arm, sending a shiver of desire through me.
I smile, sip my wine, and let the happiness permeate my entire body.
In the darkest corners of my mind, I’d hoped this would happen. I wanted to come back to him. I wanted to leave our past behind us and start fresh, but I didn’t believe it could happen.
Watching Max crunch on another piece of bruschetta makes me realize that it is possible to start over. Not only it is possible, it’s happening.
He smiles at me again, and clinks his glass against mine.
“To us,” he says.
“To us.”
We drink our wine, and eat our food, and then I lean into the man I love and wrap my arms around him. He pulls me on top of him and we forget about dinner for a little while. We’ve got more important things to take care of.