Page 91 of This Life and All the Rest
“I’m so proud of you,” Eric tells her. His voice is encouraging and soothing. “You did so good.”
“I’m so happy he’s letting me do this,” Claire says. “That’s a good sign, right?”
“I think it is.”
I’m smiling when I run back to my car. Maybe Masters is good for Claire. Maybe their relationship is more than just Claire being a bitter bitch. I guess I’ll have to wait and see.
I have to drive slowly because of the rain, and I’m soaked when I push my way into my apartment. The summer storm is likely to go all night.
I strip out of my clothes and throw on some gym shorts, then head to the kitchen to warm up something to eat. I’m pulling leftover pizza out of the microwave when there’s a knock on my door.
A chill shoots through me and my heartbeat speeds up.
Before I even open the door, I know.
On the other side is Lennon. She’s soaked from head to toe, standing in a small puddle of rainwater. Her clothes stuck to her body and her hair plastered to the sides of her face. Her skin is pale, her eyes rimmed red.
I don’t say anything. I just hold her eyes as she peers into mine. She opens her mouth twice before finally speaking, and her voice is a cracked whisper.
“Make me feel something else,” she says, and I don’t hesitate.
I know exactly what she wants, what she needs.
I slide my hand to her neck, brushing my thumb on her pulse point, and pull her to me, covering her mouth with mine. She whimpers, then paws at my bare chest as I walk us back into my apartment, kick the door shut before pushing her back up against it.
This kiss feels different.
It’s needy. Vulnerable and honest. It’s my Lennon. MyAstraea.
Lennon slides her hands up my chest roughly, dragging her nails to my shoulders then back down to my abs. Her tongue tangles with mine and she slides her hands lower, gripping onto the waistband of my shorts. My cock hardens, and she wastes no time dipping into my shorts and wrapping her hand around it. I groan at the contact, thrusting once. I tug her shirt up over her head and drop it. It lands on the floor with a thwack, and goosebumps erupt over her wet skin.
“God, you’re beautiful,” I whisper. I palm her lace-covered breast then tug the cup of her bra down so I can dip my head low and suck her nipple into my mouth, pulling the metal piercing past my teeth and biting behind it. She gasps, and I massage it with my tongue, making her moan.
Make me feel something else.
“Yes, more,” she rasps, and I unhook her bra and drag it down her arms, dropping it next to her shirt. I move to her other breast and lick around that nipple and bite down. Her grip on my dick tightens and she starts to pump.
“Fuck, Lennon,” I groan. I’m so hard I’m aching for her.
“Macon,” she breathes out, and a thrill dances down my spine.
“Say it again,” I command. I need to hear my name on her lips, her voice sexy and turned on.
“Macon,” she repeats. “Macon. Yes.”
I move down her body, dragging my lips and teeth over her naked torso, leaving red marks behind.
I’m not making the same mistake I made in my kitchen and in my studio, fucking her in a frenzy fully-clothed, or letting her make me come without giving her what she deserves.
I’m worshiping her.
I’m doing everything I should have been doing every day for the last four years. I’m making her feel something else.
I drop to my knees and tug her shorts over her ass and down her thighs, taking her panties with them, until she’s standing completely naked above me.
She shivers, and I wonder if it’s from the air conditioning hitting her damp skin, or from my touch.
I rub my palms over her silken skin, digging my fingers into the flesh of her thighs and ass, before letting myself look at her naked pussy, glistening with arousal beneath a thatch of dark curls.
