Page 84 of Quiet Beautiful Things

“No words,” I sign. “Not with mouth or hands. Nothing.”

She stares into me with dark, revealing eyes. She gets me. She forbade me from speaking. Now I’m forbidding her from signing. There will be no talking at all. What on earth will we ever do?

Surprising me, she climbs over the console and onto my lap, lowering her head to crush her lips against mine.Holy shit, I’m a fucking genius.

Having her in my lap brings back all the feelings I got on the dance floor and more. I’d unzip my fly and push her panties aside right here if we weren’t parked underneath a streetlamp. Or maybe if I were five years younger. But Ellie Stone is not someone you bang in the front seat of a car. She’s someone youtake your time with. Someone you worship. Someone you make love to, not fuck.

And for the first time in my life, a girl is sitting on me and making my dick hard, and I’m thinking of her, not me. Not my needs. Because this woman needs a man who isn’t like her birth father. She needs a man who accepts her for everything she is. A man who won’t leave her. One who will always tell her how special she is. Not because she’s deaf, but because she’s amazing.

I open the door and carefully slip out, keeping her in my arms. She looks up at the light and wriggles out of my hold. I let her go, but only because I know in sixty seconds, she’ll be right back where she was. Where she belongs.

She may have removed herself from my arms, but I still grab her hand. I grab it tightly even when she tries to pull away. She looks at me. I challenge her with my silent stare. She shakes her head, relaxes her hand in mine, and pulls me along.Quickly. Because she doesn’t want anyone to see the handholding? Or because she can’t wait to be straddling me again?

My question is answered when we enter her apartment and she throws down her purse, unaware it came open sending its contents dancing across the floor. Then, she’s back in my arms, staring into my eyes, conveying everything she wants me to do to her without a single word, motion, or sign.

On the way to her bedroom, she taps on my shoulder, pulls out her phone and nods to the kitchen counter. I set her down, take my phone out of my pocket, and hand it over. She leaves both of them in the kitchen.

When we enter her bedroom, she leaves the light off and shuts the door. We’re in total darkness with the exception of a small glow coming from a streetlamp outside her window. Wow, she’s really going all in with this. Darkandquiet.

My cock hardens knowing this night is going to be all about touch. Touch without signs or words. Touch without anythingelse. I wish I had earplugs with me. Something to mute the ambient sounds of faraway traffic. Of the occasional voice coming from the sidewalk. Of dogs barking in the distance. I want to be immersed in only her.

We carefully navigate our way to the bed. She leads the way as there’s not even enough light to see the outline of furniture. The box spring squeaks as she sits on the bed. I extend a hand, searching for her face. I cup her chin and lower my mouth to hers, capturing her lips with mine as I press her back against the mattress.

I’m so completely aware of every little noise. Our clothes rustling. Her breath hitching. Hell, I can almost hear my heart pounding. But Ellie isn’t aware of any of that. She’s surrounded by both darknessandsilence, a circumstance that would scare most people. But not her. Or maybe she is scared but trusts me enough to be okay with it. The thought has me reeling. I want her to trust me. Ineedit.

“El—” I start to say when I pull back to catch my breath.

I freeze, my voice echoing in my head. I hope she didn’t feel me speak.

Hungry hands running down my back tell me she may have been too preoccupied to notice. I vow to remain silent. To immerse myself in this experience that is already unlike any I’ve ever had.

Kissing her again, my hands snake across her body, feeling every curve over the silky material of her dress. After palming her breasts and pinching her stiff nipples, I work my way down, push the fabric aside, and find her pussy drenched. I moan, then realize my mistake and go still. She puts a hand on mine and presses it firmly as if begging for more. Okay, so moaning is allowed then. Encouraged, perhaps.

When I touch her clit, she moans herself. It’s a soft, muted, high-pitched mewl that makes me feel all-powerful. I glide a finger inside her and she arches against me.

I can’t take it anymore. I need skin against skin.

When my hand pulls away, a pouty huff escapes her, making me smile. She’s as needy as I am. I feel around her back for buttons, or a tie. I find a zipper. I lower it and wait for her to remove her arms, sliding the dress down her legs and off completely, taking off her heels in the process. Then I kiss my way up her legs and remove her panties, inhaling her intoxicating scent as I go.

Before I can put my mouth on her, she’s all hands, trying to remove my belt, but it’s stuck. I undo it, then let her tug it out of my jeans. It snaps back and thwacks me in the head. She has no idea it did, and I don’t tell her.

In no time at all, I’m naked next to her, my clothes and shoes strewn somewhere across her floor.

My hands waste no time getting back on her. First, the curve of her neck. Then her collarbones. Then her breasts. My mouth joins the party and I tongue an erect nipple, the taste of her skin nearly sending me tumbling over the edge. And her scent, the one that tells me she wants this, is overpowering.

It’s surreal how not using your other senses seems to amplify the ones youareusing. We’re not hearing. We’re not seeing. So suddenly, touch, taste, and smell are ten times more powerful.

Her hand grips my cock and I groan in pleasure. I know she felt it. She works her hand up and down, increasing the pace. I’m at a total loss here. I’m about to come like a thirteen-year-old with a nudie magazine. If I push her away, she might get the wrong idea.

A finger gets pressed against my lips. Did I make another sound? No. Then why did she…

Jesus. I lose all train of thought when her finger leaves my lips and reappears down by my balls. She’s pumping me with one hand and the other is lightly teasing my ball sack.

Maybe she knew I wanted to say something. Something like last time when I told her I’d come too soon if she touched me. That was her way of letting me know she knew what I was thinking, but she was going to get me off anyway. Her putting a finger to my lips was her taking control.

Fuck, that’s sexy.

Either way, I’m too far gone now, so I commit myself to the task and lie back to enjoy the impending detonation.

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