Page 30 of A Lonely Road
As her limbs tightened around me, I finally started moving faster, striking the very core of her with each thrust, capturing her mouth with mine in a rhythm that mimicked the movement of our bodies. She clung to me, ankles linked at the small of my back, meeting me stroke for stroke.
When my name burst from her lips in a breathless cry, I reached between us to press my thumb against her clit, and the final eruption left us both quaking in the aftermath.
With what little energy I had left, I rolled away to throw out the condom. I was back at her side before her breathing had even slowed. She was still limp as I drew her into my arms, and when I cocked a brow down at her, she gave a breathless laugh.
“Good doesn’t even begin to cut it,” she said, tucking her head into the hollow of my shoulder. “I think I called you a god among men once before. I guess I was right.”
I kissed the top of her head as I trailed my fingers up and down along her spine. “I’m glad I passed muster, because I might never move again. At least we’ll have these memories to keep us warm at night.”
Her laughter floated over me and a different kind of warmth settled deep in my chest. This Nora was such a bold contrast against the prickly little thing she had seemed at first. Lying herewith her felt as natural as breathing. In boneless languor, we stayed curled up together in my bed for a long time afterward, a tangle of limbs and blissful satisfaction.
I wasn’t in any way opposed to cuddling after sex, but I'd certainly never enjoyed it as much as I did with Nora. Each of her sweet curves fit perfectly against the planes of my body, so achingly soft that I wanted to stay like that for the rest of my natural life.
“Thank you,” she murmured into my skin.
“Believe me when I say it was my pleasure.”
“Hmm. Mine too.”
I laughed against the top of her head and tightened my arm around her as she snuggled close. It came as no surprise that she wasn’t one for pillow talk, but as evening fell outside the bedroom window, it seemed like words came more readily to her lips, little questions and conversational tidbits as she drowsed there, draped against my chest. I wondered if she felt more secure in the growing dark or if it was simply an effect of our coming together.
Whatever the reason, I was more than willing to enjoy the shifting dynamic. This was more than just casual sex for me.
I only hoped she felt the same.
Chapter Fifteen
Nora
“Whatdidyoustudyin college?” I asked, barely able to open my eyes.
Jake’s fingers toyed with my hair, sending little waves of pleasure over my loose, exhausted muscles. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head before he answered.
“Business. I dabbled with accounting, and medieval history one semester. You?”
My soft laugh ruffled the hairs on his chest. “So you’re not a Renaissance man, but a medieval warrior?” I mused. For a moment, I was too lulled by his fingers in my hair to form the words, then I said, “I have a degree in world languages.”
“Makes sense,” he replied, the tenor of his voice rumbling under my ear. “How many do you know?”
“A few. It helped that my dad is fluent in several foreign languages, so I was able to practice speaking with a real human when he was around, or by writing letters when he wasn’t.”
“That is unbearably sexy, you know.”
When I laughed again, his fingers trailed down the length of my arm, raising goosebumps in their wake.
“What’s your favorite language?” he asked.
I struggled to focus on the question instead of his fingertips, but I found his touch terribly distracting, especially now that I knew what those digits were capable of.
“Um. French, I’d have to say. It was the first language I learned after English. My dad taught me that one when he was around, from the time I was a toddler I guess, and then he made sure I had tutors lined up when he was deployed. Sometimes it was just a teenager on base who would quiz me while babysitting, sometimes they were actual French teachers who’d fit me in after school.”
This was followed by an exchange of silly getting-to-know-you questions that had somehow never seemed important between us until this point, things like favorite color (mine: purple, his: the light blue of my dress tonight) and birthday (mine: September third, his: June tenth).
Jake was careful in what he asked, tentative almost, but I participated willingly, even when the questions turned more personal.
When our favorite foods came up, however, I yelped and propped myself up on one elbow to look down at him. Fromthe spark of concern in his eyes when he saw my expression, he must have expected something tragic to come out of my mouth.
“Jake! We forgot about dessert!”
