Page 7 of Cooper

But his cock isn’t finished yet. The rubbing doesn’t stop as he slides inside me, mouth still on my nipple, only this time, he adds licking to his already ample sucking, and my back arches involuntarily, as I adjust to his girth, that is deliciously filling me, hitting all those hungry spots that haven’t been touched for so long. Added to his ragged breathing, his desperate touch spurs me on, and I find myself reaching for his chest, pinching his nipples and parting my lips to his neck, in a tug of war of pleasure.

The soft yet sexy sounds that come out of him are my undoing. I've never been with a man that did that, that told me how much he was enjoying it, just with his breathing and soft grunts. They’re almost another language on their own. Understood. Loud and clear. His head leans on my shoulder for a moment, in a gesture I take as defeat, as he lets out the sexiest grunt I've ever heard, letting me know that he’s right there with me, feeling every bit of lust and pleasure as I am.

And that’s when my body lets go for the second time tonight. My fingernails jab into the skin on his back as I climax with him, his body shuddering, his grunts longer, more reminiscent of full on, head to toe, ‘if this is how I'm going to die I'll take it’, kind of pleasure. With a cleansing exhale, he leans his head back on my shoulder, kissing it tenderly, and then he rests for a moment, before lifting his head, kissing my lips, and removing himself from me, rolling onto his side to face me.

We're almost nose-to-nose, lying in bed together, just gazing at each other. And it’s like I've known him all my life. But all the same, I can't tell him anything, and I brace myself for this. “I’ve never done anything like this before.” He says, surprising me.

“Really? I figured with you being in a band and all, that you had a different girl each night. You are a very handsome man.”

He smiles shyly. “Yeah, you’d think. But it’s the guitarist and lead singer that the ladies go for. I’m usually hiding in the back. Very unpopular.”

I kiss his nose. “I’ve never done anything like this before, either.” I tell him, but then I bite my tongue. The less he knows about me the better.

“How long were you married?”

“Eleven years. Got married young.”

“Yeah? Was that your folks making you do that?” He asks, sliding a finger down my cheek.

“No. I think I told you before that they hated him. My parents had to be coaxed to attend the wedding.” I sigh, wanting so badly to tell him everything, to vent, to tell someone the hell that has become my life, but I know I can’t. “We got married because I thought I was pregnant. He panicked.”

“Was it a happy marriage in the beginning?”

“It was. James was always very gallant and caring. He wanted to do his duty to the father of his child, but I knew that he loved me, too.”

“And then you found out you weren’t pregnant? Was he upset?”

“We had a very small wedding. Justice of the Peace.” I say, scrunching my nose. “He wasn’t upset when I got my period on our honeymoon.” I say facetiously.

Cooper snuffles a laugh. “Oh, no.”

“Yeah.” I chuckle, nodding.

“Well, at least he already had the sex, you know. Some people like to wait until after the wedding.”

Then I blurt. “I’ve never been with anyone except James.” My tone is conversational. “This is the first time.”

Cooper’s eyes sparkle. Like I just paid him a huge compliment. And I guess I did. He doesn’t ruin it by saying something corny or stupid, he just leans in and kisses me, making the confession more palatable. “I know I can't stay over, darlin’, but when would you like me to leave?”

Never. Never leave. This is the first time in such a long time that I feel safe, happy, and like the world I left behind is finally gone. These are all the things that I want to say, but I choose these words instead. “Stay until I fall asleep?”

His grin is child-like. Like we’re new best friends and I just invited him to a sleepover.

“I don’t want Bean to know that I'm sleeping with her music teacher.” I add with a soft chuckle.

Another sweet grin. “Where do you get the name Bean from?”

“I’ve called her that since she was in my belly. It just stuck.”

He searches my eyes in the darkness. “What can I call you? Stella isn’t fitting, and I know you said that I can’t call you London.”

I don’t know what’s sweeter. The fact that he trusts me so implicitly, or that he’s being so incredibly respectful, I'm not sure which. “Call me Lennie. That's what my grandmother used to call me.”

“Oh yeah? How come?”

“She hated the United Kingdom. Couldn’t stand the fact that my mother named me London. Ironic because she was a huge fan of John Lennon, hence ‘Lennie’.”

He chuckles at that. “Still, Lennie, to me, sounds like it’s short for ‘Leonard’.” He searches my eyes, combing his fingers through the hair at the side of my head. “How about I just call you beautiful?” His voice is whimsical, and I wonder if this is how he sounds after sex.

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