Page 25 of Spicy Nick

“I want… Do you think you could?—”

“Anything,” I promise, reaching out to stroke my hand down her arm, desperate for more. “Whatever you want.”Whatever will make you start touching me again.

“Fuck my ass?”

“Well, yeah,” I chuckle, grinning at her in a lust-soaked daze. “I could definitely do that.” How is this even a question? And if I sound a little surprised, it’s because I am. I mean, I know she likes it, but I’m usually the one who initiates this sort of thing. I’m not sure why she’s changing things up right now, but I’m more than willing to follow her lead.

I sit up and drag a pillow down from the top of the bed as she comes to her knees beside me. While she gets herself in position, draping herself over the pillow with her hips in the air. I reach into the nightstand drawer where we keep the packets of lube. Packets now; ever since Cole had an incident with the tube we used to keep there. So far, this has worked for us. But if there’s another on the way? Well, that’s what child-proof locks are for, I guess. The only shame of it is that we’ve only recently taken them off most of the cabinets.

The packet I grab, at random, turns out to be warming gel, which seems in keeping with tonight’s theme, so I decide to go with it.

“Oh, yeah,” Scout gasps as I start to prep her. “That…that’s…”

“Nice?” I suggest, harking back to our earlier conversation.

“Mm,” she murmurs, breath coming harder, duvet crumpling in her clenched fists. “Very, very.” She twists around to meet my gaze then asks, “And you’re still telling me you didn’t plan any of this?”

“I swear I didn’t,” I say, continuing to scissor my fingers inside her. “We just got lucky.”

“Oh, we did,” she agrees as she drops her head back onto her crossed arms. “We so did.”

When I judge that she’s ready, I palm her cheeks, holding her open as I fit myself to her opening and push inside—just a little at a time. And then…bliss. The sight of her body spread before me, open, vulnerable, taking me in. The sound of her breathy helpless grunts as muscles relax, as they soften and give way; until I’m fully seated deep inside. The feel of her skin, warm and slick, against my own. The heat of her body, the force with which it grips me. It’s all of that together, that’s almost my undoing. And I have to pause, to breathe, to scrape together the unraveling threads of my control.

A single thought has broken loose in my mind like a bird taking wing. My head fills with its song.Mine. Mine. Mine.Mine. Mine.

And in that moment of transcendent clarity, I understand that it’s never been about possession, nor less ownership. That it’s always only been about one thing: Belonging. We belong with each other—with, not to. We always have; and I’ve always known it. Since the night that we met, it has been my one inescapable truth, guiding my footsteps, bringing us home.

“Nick,” Scout gasps, a plea for movement. And in response, I coast one hand up the length of her spine; the heel of my palm digging in just enough, exerting just the right amount of pressure. Reassuring yet dominating, exactly how she likes it, pressing her deeper into the mattress. I gather her hair together at the nape of her neck, then grip her there as I begin to move within her. Long, slow strokes at first that gradually gather speed and force, until I’m pounding into her, giving up everything to her in the end, even my hard-won control.

At some point, I’ve changed my grip. I clutch at her hips with both hands now—hard enough that I know I’ll leave bruises. And I know I’ll take guilty pleasure at the sight of them until they fade.

A tingling rush erupts up my spine and I’m coming. Surrendering. Pouring everything I have into her as her body shudders beneath me, convulses around me. As she lays claim to me yet again.

Breathe in. Breathe out. It’s a struggle to remember how that’s done. Slowly, carefully, I withdraw, easing out of her.

“I’ll get a cloth,” I mumble as I climb out of bed. I stumble to the bathroom, and then back again, only to find she hasn’t moved. At all. I use the washcloth I brought back from the bathroom to clean her off.

“You okay?” I ask, just checking in.

“Mm,” she murmurs. She crawls to the top of the bed, and then collapses again.

I settle in beside her. We still need to go back downstairs, but not just yet. Maybe I’ll set an alarm and we can take a quick nap. I pull the covers over us, wrap an arm around her. She cuddles against me with a happy little sigh.

“So, was that what you wanted?”

“Mm-hm,” she says, head shifting against my chest as she nods.

“Yeah? It was good?”

She opens one eye and side-eyes me. “Was it good foryou?”

My mouth falls open. “Really? You need to ask?”

“Well, I don’t know, Nick.” She shifts to view me with both eyes. “You askedme. Didthatseem necessary?”

“I…” I break off laughing. “Fine. You got me. I don’t know what I was thinking, either. It just seemed…I dunno…appropriate? Polite?”

“God yes,” she nods in agreement. “Manners are so important when you’re fucking someone’s brains out. Good idea suggesting we move upstairs, by the way. This would have been harder to manage on the couch.”

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