45. What Will It Take
Leila’s mouth spread in a slow smile.
“Six days,” she reiterated in a whisper.
Two words, one emotion.
It burned low in both their chests, creating a spark that licked at their insides until their whole bodies felt aflame, alight with it.
“Make love to me,” Leila said softly.
Nate’s face split with a slow grin.
“You know me better than that, baby,” he said. “I always gotta have you coming on my face first.”
Leila’s sex clenched.
Yes, God yes.
He started to kiss her mouth at first, her neck, her collarbones. His tongue was sliding down between her breasts when her hips started to slowly circle beneath him.
He gave a soft grunt in response but didn’t stop the trail his tongue was making down her body. Her nipples puckered as he dipped his tongue into her belly button, pressed a kiss to it, and moved lower.
“Fuck!” Leila cried out at the first flick of his tongue on her clit. She was already so wound up, it quivered against his tongue.
Her hands fisted his hair almost immediately and she pulled at the roots.
Nate moved closer, burying his tongue in her, hot breath licking against her clit through his nose.
Suction, soft and sweet enveloped her, caressed her. His mouth on her pussy, lapping up her sweet was simply intoxicating.
Nate’s hands curled around her thighs, fingers digging into her flesh as his mouth tasted her, drank at her. His tongue was soft, his strokes hard and hungry, a perfect combination.
His arms spread her wider, wider. So wide for him, it felt like he was getting ready to embed himself in her body like some reverse birthing. The only thing he stuck inside her was his tongue, though, a wickedly delicious tongue that kept up it’s moaning hums against the sensitive flesh of her sex.
“Nate... Nate... please, Nate,” she chanted and with every time she said it, he licked her harder, harder, until he took her clit into his mouth with a heavy suck.
Leila cried out as her climax steadily built inside her. Nate could always get her coming far faster than anyone else ever could. It was like he had sole ownership of her body and it was just being used as a vessel for Leila’s mind and thoughts. If it had been a book, Nate was the author, editor, and publisher.
The knot in her stomach made her legs quake, his mouth licking and nibbling at her clit, her swollen lips and tongue darting out to lap up any moisture she expelled.
“Oh, God, yes,” she cried out as her whole body was wracked with waves of pleasure. “Coming...”
She could barely breath out that last word and the rest was a jumbled mess of moans and cries, a thanks to God that her man was so agile with his tongue.
Nate licked her through her orgasm until she was squirming away from him. His hard cock lay stiff as a brick against the multi-colored duvet beneath them both. It scraped along the duvet leaving a small wet trail of pre-cum as he slowly kissed up her torso.
“Need to be in you, sweetheart,” he told her huskily against her mouth. “Need your soft, sweet pussy milking my cock when I come in it.”
Yes. Yes. A hundred motherfucking times yes.
“Yes, please,” she mewled at him, startled by her weak response. The man made her weak. She couldn’t say no to him if she tried.
His tip strained against the tight opening to her womb, pierced it, and with a slow grunt, he parted her lips smooth as butter.
“Oh... f-f-fuck,” he groaned out, feeling his dick twitch inside her. Nate prided himself on having stamina, especially lately, but having her cradling his cock this tightly had him ready to erupt. Gallons possibly.
“Mmm,” Leila moaned, her arms snaking around his shoulders, pulling his head closer to her.
He crushed his lips to her, devouring the rest of that moan and the ones that followed. After a few minutes, he pulled back and rested his sweaty forehead against hers as his hips continued to pump slowly in and out of her. Her eyes lids fluttered open, shut, then open again. The need there made Nate’s chest expand. It was more than just the need to be taken, to be fucked. It spoke of a need far deeper than that.
But worry, deep-rooted and almost hidden, was there in her eyes as well.
“What will it take, Leila?” he rasped out, hips swiveling and meeting with her flesh. “What will it take to get that look of worry to completely disappear from your eyes?”
She almost spoke, then didn’t. Her mouth opened slightly, but she only worried her lip with her teeth before closing it again. She hadn’t thought it could be seen, that underlying feeling of doubt, of alarm.
“Will fucking you so hard you scream do it? Wipe away that look I see in your eyes? The one that’s so small, so well hidden it’s almost invisible?” Nate’s eyes crinkled as well, unsettled. “Tell me what will help you and I’ll do it. I’ll do anything.”
His movements were still slow, but grew slightly faster, anticipating her answer.
What could he do? To wipe out that panic rising in her chest every day? The tight feeling she got in her chest whenever she thought about next Monday, next week, a year from now, when things could be so different?
There was only really one answer, and she didn’t know how to articulate it without being brutally honest.
“Just love me,” she told him, removing her hands from his hair to cup his face. “That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less.”
His eyes seemed to brighten, the movements of his hips faltered.
“I will,” he told her, closing his eyes and thrusting into her as if punctuating the words. “I do.”
Leila’s eyes shut and tears threatened. In bed having sex wasn’t the place for them, but they seemed to come anyway, against her wishes. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, tighter, trying to force the salty droplets back into her eyes. She knew it was a lost cause and felt the trickle of one tear down her temple, then another, disappearing into her hairline.
“Sweetheart,” Nate moaned, his hips finding the perfect rhythm. Somewhere between soft and slow and fast and furious. Their rhythm. Because at that moment it was all theirs.
And he did something else. He kissed her tears away, silently. Each one eventually knew the flavor of his lips, and if more came, he kissed those away too. He didn’t ask what they were for. For once, he just knew. How he knew, he didn’t know. It was intrinsic, automatic. Like he had peeled away layers and scooped out her brain to dissect it. Movements here, thought processes there, careful with the control of the heart- it’s precious, and remove the other layers to delve deeper. Wherever it was, her innermost thoughts, he saw them bare and bright as day. And he was there with her. She was ready. He was ready. He just needed to be patient and ride the week out. Distract her when he could, hold her hand when the time came.
For once they were silent, staring into each other’s eyes, no words needing to be said. Not even when her climax overcame her and his soon followed. Nor the time after that. And after that.
They lay in each other’s arms for a while later that night, just breathing in the scent of sex and their mingled aromas. Leila was tucked into Nate’s arm, her head nestled against his chest, thinking. Nate was on his back, his left arm holding onto her tightly, the other hand’s fingers laced through hers.
They were waiting for room service, which should have been arriving soon, but neither of them moved. For fear to break the spell or to just bask in the glow. They knew they should get up, get dressed and wash up, but neither attempted to move as they listened to the only sound in the room: their breathing.
“Nate?” Leila finally called when the silence became too much and overwhelmed her. Words needed to be said, and no matter how difficult it was for her to say them, they had been thoughts in her head for weeks that gnawed at her, wanting to break free.
“Yes, love?” he asked softly.
“I love you,” she said, voice wobbly. “I just wanted to let you know that. No matter what happens, I love you. If things go-”
“Nothing’s going to happen,” he told her. “Leila, I love you too. I think I have for years, even when I wasn’t... supposed to. I’m... I’m glad I didn’t know how you felt about me all those years ago. I wouldn’t have been able to restrain myself. I regret the way I reacted to it only, but I never regretted caring for you deeply. And I never will.”
Nate moved so that he was facing her, nose to nose, lips to lips and spoke.
“I meant what I said before,” he told her. “Our life begins next week. I hope that means to you what it does to me. Everything. I want everything from you, no matter how big or small you think it is. Your thoughts, your dreams, every feeling. I want to know it, know every facet of Leila Winters. In turn, I want you to know everything about me. I’m stubborn and I might fight you at times, but know that, in the end, there’s no one else that could make me feel alive as you do. If I become a stupid, insufferable shit and leave you in the dark about anything, you have my permission to kick my willful ass ’til it’s bruised and thoroughly beaten.”
“I give the same permissions to you,” she told him, smiling gently. “If I pull away, separate myself from you, you need to tell me. Remind me of this: Ireland at dusk in a ridiculously expensive hotel room naked. Sexed up, hair mussed, smelling of sex and Nathan- my two favorite scents in the world.”
Nate smiled, rubbed his nose along hers for a moment.
“It’s a deal,” he told her.
The whine of the engines reminded Leila of the long journey from California. This time, at least, they only were making a short trip across the Irish Sea to England.
Though the Charleses had some businesses in Scottland and Manchester, most of them are in London, and it was the first and only stop they’d make in the U.K.
“Do you ever visit the businesses in Scottland?” Leila asked as she watched the scenery go by during takeoff.
“Don’t need to,” Nate said. “My Uncle Thomas is the manager of one and the old battle ax that runs the show in Scotland is scary. And hairy. If I wasn’t so sure they didn’t exist, I’d say he was half human and half Yeti. I rarely ever went to Scotland. Gavin Adair is a fucking beast and I hate having him think I’m stepping on his toes when I visit.”
“Mean?” Leila asked.
“Not mean, per se,” Nate said, his face crinkling in thought. “Gruff and slightly hostile, but he’s a good worker and trustworthy. Caught him reaming out a worker for being two minutes late from break. The poor woman was 8 months pregnant and waddled everywhere. It was no wonder she took longer for a break. I told him to lay off. Thought he was gonna blow a fuse, but he just turned red, then purple, and then walked away, warning the woman under his breath to look into utilizing better time management skills. Not in those terms, mind you. And his accident bloody accent is damned difficult to understand.”
“Sounds like a lovely human being,” Leila said sarcastically. “Bet his wife gets the brunt of his nasty temper.”
“Not true. He’s not married- at least I don’t think he is,” Nate said. “He’s gay and quite open about it. Has a live-in roommate whom I’m pretty sure he’s fucking, but the man is all soft curves where Gavin is hard, jagged edges.”
“Opposites do attract,” Leila reminded him with a smile.
“Indeed,” Nate said, giving a smile back to her.
They stay silent for a bit until the jet levels out and the captain tells them they can move about the cabin. Not that they waited. They both had moved about a bit before that when Leila realized she was parched and Nate got up to get her something to drink.
“How much longer?” Leila asked. She was talking about the plane ride to London, but the words fell heavier in the air.
“Another 45 minutes maybe,” Nate told her, his head in a newspaper he had picked up at the airport before leaving.
Leila pushed the newspaper up and into his face and worked the zipper down on his slacks before pulling out his cock. He was already half-hard.
“Do you ever truly deflate?” she asked against the skin of his dick.
“Around you?” he said, his voice now coming in heavy rasps. “Neve- holy shit!”
Her mouth had wrapped around him and she sucked on his tip. Hard. Then a swirl of her tongue around the soft rim and she pushed down further on him. She could feel his thighs tense beneath her hands and kept her own hands planted on them, squeezing the thick muscles.
She hummed around his length, sucked at it as it grew steadily longer and thicker. His newspaper was gone, fallen to the floor and his hands were in her hair, tangled in her wavy mane and pulling it aside to look at her.
He almost came as her hazy green eyes met his, her mouth stretched wide around his cock, her throat moving with deep swallows to relax it.
His crown stabbed the back of her throat and she swallowed, relaxed, and took him deeper.
“Baby, what if the captain or-”
“They won’t,” she said, popping off his dick to answer him. “They barely came out of there all the way across the U.S. And then only when one of them was going to take a nap.”
“Shut up, Nate,” she interjected with a purr. “Let me suck your cock until you come in my mouth.”
His dick twitched and Leila smiled before swallowing his full length down again.
“Shit, baby,” he groaned as her mouth worked up and down on him. “I’m gonna fuck that pussy so damned hard when we get to the hotel tonight. I need it, need you.”
She hummed around him, not missing a beat as she swallowed over and over around him as she took him deep.
One hand cupped his balls through the fabric of his boxers, squeezed at him, and let go. She manipulated his nuts like a Rubik’s Cube, as if it were a puzzle to solve and it made his dick even harder.
Her mouth. Her hands. The squelching noise her mouth made around him as she sucked him deeper. And the way her tongue flattened against him when he was balls deep in her mouth. Everything.
“Baby... fuck. You keep sucking me like that and I’m gonna empty into your mouth way too soon.”
If that was supposed to be a warning, it fell flat. She corkscrewed her head, let her teeth come out to scrape at him a bit, ratcheting him up until his fingers were digging into her scalp.
“Dear sweet... baby, I’m gonna come,” he groaned out, his hips jerking upward as much as they could in his seatbelted state.
Her head moved faster, the wet sounds increasing until it was all he could hear over the roar of his blood in his ears.
With a loud grunt, he came, emptying into her mouth. She swallowed every drop, her tongue undulating around him with every deep swallow.
When he was done, Leila sat up with a self-satisfied smile and leaned forward to kiss Nate’s cheek. He moved his head at the last second and planted one on her lips, soft and slow, before parting them with his tongue.
“Fuck, I love you,” he told her, his breath still coming in unsteady pants.
“Is it because I give the best head?”
“It’s because you give the best everything, sweetheart.”
A/N: Why can't more men be like Nate? Dammit! He was an asshole at first, but he's turning out okay...
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