Page 74 of Dissonance

“You’re staring,” she whispers, thighs pressing together.

I stop her, hands splayed on either side, easing her back open. “Aye. And you’re going to lie there and let me.”

A long breath leaves her as she lets herself go still, her muscles relaxing into the mattress. She’s perfect, spread out and waiting, and I could look at her like this forever. I tell her that with my hands, caressing, leaving no part of her skin untouched. Teeth clamp onto her lip, lashes fluttering over unfocused eyes as I skim my palms over her legs, thumbs drawing slow, absent lines, my intent clear. I’m going to take my time, savor every second, every sexy sound I know I can pull from her. Make her come so completely undone that she forgets everything that happened today.

One of her hands moves to my hair as I move up the inside of her thighs, leaving open-mouthed kisses just above the curve of her hip. I look up, relishing the way her head sinks into the pillow, chin tilted up, completely open to me, surrendering, trusting me with her body, her fears, the parts she doesn’t show anyone.

That’s not nothing. That’s everything.

I can’t wait, needing to taste her, licking one clean stripe through her slick cunt, wetness coating my tongue. The groan that tears out of me is helpless and hungry and entirely hers. This is dissonance in its purest form—everything I’ve wanted, everything I’ve refused myself. Twelve years of longing and not having, of burning nights and careful distance, all of it collapsing into this one moment as her body writhes beneath me and I’ve barely started.

Her gasp is like music, a beautiful melody only for me when I suck her clit between my lips, fingers twisting in the short strands of my hair.

“Oh God,” she breathes, hips canting upward, the pressure on my head increasing, driving me deeper. “Right there.”

My finger slides inside her, curling against her walls, her arousal flooding my hand as my tongue swirls around the bundle of nerves, my name falling from her in a repeated chant. My free hand roams up her stomach, cupping one of her full tits, her nipple hard through the lace of her bra. She moans low in her throat, clamping around my finger with a vise-like grip that has my cock leaking. I want to sink inside her, feel that strangling strength as she finds her release, crying my name, holding me deep when I fill her.

Tonight is for her, though. Not me.

But the image of her full tits, round belly, head thrown back in ecstasy spurs me on, and I’m a dying man in need of rescuing. Thea’s pussy is the only thing I need to survive. My fingers pump faster, tongue working harder, her thighs locking around my head. She’s close, I can feel it in the grip of her fingers, the pitch of her breathing, the desperate roll of her hips chasing every stroke.

“Lockie, I’m—I’m—”

Her back bows off the bed as she comes, flooding my mouth with her release, her whole body shaking. I help her through every second, not easing off until she’s completely wrung out.

I stay there between her legs, leaving small kisses on the inside of her thigh while I catch my breath. And still, I don’t move. Not when her breathing’s evened out, not when her fingers start carding gently through my hair.

Eventually, I shift, my lips finding the underside of her stomach, right where that new curve sits beneath her skin. Her body goes completely still, like she hadn’t expected it. I rest my forehead there for a beat, just breathing her in.

“Better?” I murmur.

Her response is barely more than a sleepy hum, her hand drifting lazily from my head and slipping to my shoulder.

“Mmm…yeah…”

When I ease up to look at her, her mouth’s curved, eyes closed, lashes casting long shadows on her cheeks. I reach over and pull the duvet up, tucking it loosely around her body. She curls into it, turning onto her side, one hand sliding under her cheek. I brush my lips across hers and she sighs, pliant, half-gone already.

“Stay,” she whispers.

My hand stills on her arm, knuckles sweeping once over her skin as I look down at her—wrecked and softened and trusting, her voice fading into sleep. My chest pulls so tight it’s almost painful. I should stay, I want to. But if I do, I’m never going to want to leave in the morning. Or the morning after that.

Kissing her temple, I make myself straighten, make myself step back from the bed, pausing in the door frame, fingers curling around the wood.

“Get some sleep, sweetheart,” I say quietly. “I’m right across the hall.”

She doesn’t answer, already slipping under while I watch for longer than I need to. Letting myself out of her apartment, I walk into mine, and I don’t make it two steps before I’m against the door, back flat, eyes shut.

“Fuck,” I say, the word rough and dragged out in the empty room.

She’s still on my tongue, in my head, under my skin. The sounds she made, the way she reacted so fucking beautifully to my touch.

I don’t bother with lights as I head to the bathroom, turn on the shower, and strip. The water’s cold when I step under the spray, already fisting my cock. One hand braced against the tiles, my head drops forward, my thumb swiping over the tip as I fuck my fist harder. Licking my lips is all it takes; the taste of her still there, enough to tip me over. It’s quick and rough and not nearly enough because it’s not her; it’s never going to come close to being her. My chest heaves as I spill across my hand, water washing my release away, and I stand there, forehead against the cold tile, just breathing.

She asked me to stay.

And I left because I’m trying so fucking hard to do this right, and I won’t move too fast and scare her away. But standing here now, in a rapidly cooling shower, in an empty apartment with her on the other side of the hall, I understand with absolute clarity what this has always been.

It was never just physical with Thea. Not once in all those years. Not during any of those nights that burned and disappeared and came back anyway. I just spent a very long time refusing to look directly at it. Like a man who knows there’s a sun, but keeps his eyes on the ground, knowing it’s easier that way, safer. You can’t want what you won’t let yourself see.