Page 22 of Light As A Feather
I’ve never been one to back away from a challenge, especially when it comes to her. “Come for me,” I command against her. She’s helpless to deny me as I increase the pressure on her swollen clit.
“Hawthorne, that’s, I’m—” Her head falls back in ecstasy. Between the spasming muscles of her legs, I peer up at her, helpless but to witness the work of art that she is. As the last waves of her orgasm wash over her, I savor the sounds of hersated, ragged breathing until the ache of my dick is too intense to ignore.
Standing, I gently grab her chin and draw her to me so she can taste her release on my lips. “That’s my girl, falling apart so perfectly for me,” I praise as I slide my tongue against hers while I drag her panties back into place. “Don’t worry, all that wetness leaking between your thighs won’t go to waste.”
Sol breaks away, her eyes flaring as I undo my belt and free my hard length. She watches with rapt attention as I take myself in my hand. The rhythm of my slow strokes is a metronome that hypnotizes her. The spell is broken when I press the head against the front of her panties.
Snatching the breath she tries to take, I fuse our mouths together, sucking intently. Taking a step back, I open my mouth and let all the spit I stole pour over my dick. Capturing it in my fist again, I coat my shaft with it, then grind my hips forward, pushing the head up against her wet panties. Even with the fabric between us, the sensation is euphoric.
“This pussy is going to be the death of me,” I groan as I drive myself up and down her center, her slick lips parting for me so easily. “Do you feel how badly you need me? How your pussy drips for me, tempting me, giving me everything without me even having to ask.” I lift the fabric and slide underneath it, then pull the sides taut, giving us an obscene view of me bulging through it as I drive myself between her swollen pussy lips.
I don’t enter her, but I might as well be fucking her with the way each stroke sends her hips upward, begging for more.
“Fuck, that feels so good.” She inhales sharply as I jerk my hips forward, forcing the crown over her clit in hard, slow thrusts.
Tugging her forward, I force her to look down at where I torture her cunt. In a momentary daze, I lean our heads together, memorizing the erotic view. “Look at that. Look howhard I am for you. It hurts not to be inside you, but it’s a blissful pain. I ache for you in every way, and I wouldn’t change a thing.”
“I want you inside me.” The desperation tumbles from her in breathy pants.
“Not yet.”
“Why?” She grips my shoulder, her nails threatening to tear through my shirt as she suppresses a shiver.
“Oh, baby. I fully intend to give you a taste of your own medicine, call it my retribution for all those phone calls that left me on edge. Do you even know how your teasing nearly drove me mad?” I grip my throbbing length tightly, fucking into my own hand as I pull the drenched material from where it’s bunched between her labia, flattening it over her once again. “But I’m not going to fuck you properly until you let go of all that cynicism I know you’re still holding onto.” With a pointed thrust, I plunge the tip of my dick and her panties into her entrance. Just a little bit, just enough to let her know I’m not playing. Just enough to give myself a taste of what I’ve been missing. I might be teaching her a lesson, but I’m suffering too.
Despite herself, Sol moans while she clutches onto me. She can try to hold onto her composure, but she can’t fight the shaking in her legs as I roll my thumb over her clit. “I’m not,” she says between staggered breaths.
“You forget who you’re talking to, Solaneen.” Gripping her chin, I force her eyes to meet mine. “You.” Thrust. “Can’t.” Thrust. “Lie.” Thrust. “To.” Thrust. Thrust. “Me.” I’m quivering with the desire to rip right through the damned fabric and sink into her. My resolve is shredding into pieces. Burying my face between her breasts, I rest my head against her chest, taking solace in the thumping of her heart. “I see you so clearly, it’s as if I’m in that pretty little head of yours. Your worries. Your fears. Your needs. They’re mine.” Casting a glance up at her, I catch the glint of hope she attempts to blink away. “I won’t let you find anout, because you won’t need one. We will find a way. And when we do, youwillrelinquish yourself wholly to this, to us.”
“I want to protect you.” She tilts her head back, avoiding my prying eyes. “I want to protect myself. I’m so tired of suffering.”
Kissing down her stomach, I treasure the tremble that rolls through her. “We’ll protect each other. Don’t disappear on me again. Don’t try to bury things in your mind. All I’m asking is for you to be honest with me.”
“You make it sound so easy, but it’s not.”
“You don’t have to do it alone. Even in the deep twilight of what feels like your loneliest hour, you’ve never been alone. I’ve got you.” With the promise, I press her clit and intensify my thrusting, my hips smacking against her flesh obscenely as our bodies connect. With each glide of my dick over her soaked panties, I get closer and closer, barely holding on to my sanity when the tip meets her clit. Within seconds, we’re both coming, gasping, clutching at each other.
We’re a lock and key; a perfect fit in every way.
As we sit there catching our breath, leaning against each other as our bodies recover, I feel the sense of peace I’ve been searching for. Her soft fingertips tracing along my skin, sewing up where I’ve split and torn myself apart in my search for her, where my sanity nearly escaped me. The beat of her heart in time with mine, a steady reminder that this isn’t just another dream, that we’re right where we’re supposed to be.
We walk back to the house in blissful silence, floating on cloud nine, retracing steps we’ve taken a hundred times after mornings spent foraging and cleaning bones, a set of headphones split between us.
As we approach, I don’t miss how her eyes roam over it—from the porch equipped with a cozy seating area to the triangular roof—with reverence. It’s the same house she spent countless nights tucked inside, but it’s gotten a facelift.Repainted, windows replaced and expanded, imported stained glass—that’s not even considering the interior renovation.
“You did all of this yourself?”
“No. I had some help. But I designed it all.”
“Just like I’d envisioned.”
“I found the plans you’d started working on. The rest was done from memory…and a bit of creative liberty.”
“It’s beautiful, really,” she says appraisingly.
“I was hoping you’d think so.” Her approval is another broken piece of me finally setting back into place. “Wait,” I call out as she swings the door open.
“What?” She freezes, and I hate the doubt that wipes the smile off her face. I can already see her mind going a mile a minute, questioning whether she’s overstepped in some way.
