Page 63 of Sweet Nothings

“Please,” I beg, turning my head to the side. I open my eyes and stare into his. He stares back at me, watching me with piqued curiosity. I can tell he’s enjoying watching me like this.

“Tonight is about you, Mrs. Harding.” He removes the half-melted cube from between my legs. “Tonight is all about making you feel better.”

Our bedroom is covered in shadows. I watch him as the small amount of light causes his eyes to flicker.

My mouth pops open, and I’m gasping for air as he places the half-melted cube between his teeth. His lips wrap around the cube, sucking on the end. Moving himself over my body, he slides off my panties, pulling them down my legs. He tosses them over his shoulder, then parts my legs. He bends forward and hovers over me.

I gasp when a drop of water lands on my stomach. My shirt is pushed up, exposing my wet breasts to the cool air. Arching my back again, Lennon leans down, looking up at me as he places the cube against my lower stomach. With my legs bent, my thighs are at either side of him. He lowers himself until his head is between them. Turning, he drags the cube down the length of my inner thigh, flicking his hungry gaze up to catch my reaction. A deep moan escapes my throat, and I bite down on my bottom lip.

I can’t keep my legs still. My entire body is buzzing in anticipation. Lennon drags the ice down my thigh, from my knee until he brings it to my hot center. He teases my folds, running it down the length before using his fingers to open me. The cube has melted to half the size it was when Lennon first started. When he places the frozen cube to my clit, I’m met with both ice and fire. His lips are warm, but the last bit of ice on his tongue is cold as he slides it over my swollen bud.

I place my hands on his head, threading my fingers through his hair. I grip on the ends, tightening my thighs around his face as he continues to work his icy-hot mouth on me.

The rest of the ice cube doesn’t last long, and neither does Lennon’s gentleness. His soft, delicate tastes are now firmer. He sucks and licks and bites my clit. I can’t stop moving under him, my mind growing hazy. My legs tingle as I buck my hips. I’m losing control.

Lennon is quick to slide his arms under me. He grips onto my hips, keeping me pressed against his mouth. My blazing flesh molds between his long fingers as his voice rumbles from his chest, vibrating against me.

“Lennon, I’m coming.” I want to say more but my throat won’t let me. I move my hands from his hair and stretch my arms out at either side of me, grasping onto the sheets. Anything to anchor me to the earth. I feel like I’m going to float away. I’ve never been touched when I’ve had a fever. Honestly, the last thing I could think about eight hours ago was being touched. But with Lennon, it’s different. It’s almost as if my body knows this is what I needed.

My chest expands, and my thighs press against Lennon’s head harder. One more lap, suck, and bite, and I’m coming against his mouth. Digging his fingers deeper into my flesh, he holds me against him as I ride out my orgasm. Bursts of electricity shoot across my skin.

My legs finally relax, and Lennon pulls himself away from me. He places a gentle kiss on the outside of my folds, then another on my hip, then another along my ribs. After kissing one of my nipples, he’s made his way back up to my face.

“How do you feel now?” he asks, dragging his finger down the length of my cheek.

My chest is still rising and falling as I try to catch my breath.

I lick my lips and grin. “Better.”

My eyes are heavy, the fever having gone down. My entire body is wet both from ice and fire.

“Good.” He chuckles. “Now, get some sleep.” He leans forward and kisses me for the first time in days. His lips are warm and soft. They comfort me in a way I wasn’t expecting.

But when he lays beside me and silence fills our bedroom, my thoughts wander back to his question earlier of why I didn’t tell him I was sick.

“I want to tell you something first,” I whisper. Softer than earlier. My throat is still sore, and my body is still warm and buzzing from Lennon’s touch. But I know the tone of my voice isn’t just from being sick. It’s because I’m sharing another piece of myself with Lennon.

“What is it?” he asks, resting his head on his pillow. His tattooed arm is stretched out beneath me.

I want to tell him about Roe. The pain and weight of her diagnosis is taking a toll on me, and keeping it to myself is eating me alive. Living with a secret is a solitary existence. Especially one as dark and emotional as Roe’s. My insides are tangled, pulling, and constricting around each other. Woven into knots I know will never come undone.

But I keep this secret to myself. I won’t break my promise to my sister. Even if it’s devouring me.

Instead, I tell Lennon a secret thatismine to share. One he deserves to know.

“I’ve been married before.” I freeze. Holding my breath, I wait for his reaction, not knowing what to expect. My eyes bounce back and forth between us in the shadows. I still haven’t been able to make sense of his feelings toward me. It’s hard to discern which acts and roles he’s playing as the contractual husband, or what he does because he cares for me. Right now, I feel like he cares for me, but there’s still nagging doubt living in the back of my brain.

“You have?” he asks, raising a brow. Surprise is written all over his beautiful face. I bite down on my bottom lip, expecting him to start asking other questions, but he doesn’t. He simply lets me tell my story.

“We met in college. In Torts class, to be exact.” I sigh, the memory of my short-lived marriage to David no longer affecting me physically. Not like it did even a few months ago. Talking about my previous marriage is like reciting a vague memory from my childhood. The inner workings in my heart have changed. Parts have been rearranged and replaced. I keep my eyes locked on Lennon’s chest. “One day he surprised me by asking me to marry him. I figured he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. He was an expert at convincing everyone he had a good heart. We were only married three months before I found out how he used me to get to my uncle’s firm. It started with him asking me to get a meeting set up with my uncle to get hired on as a low-level attorney. Frederick hired him, but one day, I came home and overheard him on the phone with one of his buddies we went to school with. He was explaining the entire plan he’d concocted since the day we met. I stood down the hall, in the doorway of our bedroom, with my hand over my mouth. He laid out the whole plan as if he were executing a bank heist. The next morning, I kicked him out and filed for an annulment. David and I were only married for three months.”

Lennon stays silent as I watch my hand move up and down against his chest in tandem with his breathing. He hasn’t said a word, and for a moment, I’m worried I’ve freaked him out. Bad thoughts seep into my mind. Maybe Lennon doesn’t want a wife who’s been married before. Maybe he’ll search for a way to get out of our marriage before our year is up.

Fear rolls in like an uninvited guest.

I inhale a sharp breath and look back into his eyes, answering his initial question of why I didn’t tell him I was sick. “I’m nostranger to being used, Lennon. It’s hard for me to trust others when they’ve only ever seen me for their benefit rather than my own.”

My confession settles between us, heavy and weighted.

---