Falling into a Second Chance by Alie Garnett
Chapter Eighteen
Carrying Agatha from the kitchen,Chris stopped every few steps to kiss her, touch her, or shift her so that she knew how much he wanted her. He almost didn’t make it up the stairs when her nails dug into his back when he shifted her enough to slip her pebbled nipple into his mouth. Her back arched and threw him off balance enough that he had to press her against the wall to steady them.
With her back against the wall, he slid his hands into her loose-fitting sweatpants until her legs dropped from around his waist so he could slide them off her. Dragging her panties off at the same time left her completely exposed to him.
Not wasting the opportunity, he ran a finger over her slick heat, making her moan. Chris loved how responsive she was. He teased her with his fingers as he bit down lightly on her nipple. Grabbing his head, she held him to her breast as her hips ground down on his fingers.
“Please, Chris,” she panted between moans.
With a flick of his thumb over her clit, he felt and heard her suck in a breath as tremors overtook her body. All he could do was continue what he had been doing, making her completely lose control in his arms as tremors turned into spasms each time his thumb circled over her hard bud. He kept going until she jerked under his touch, and her hold on him relaxed as she came with his name on her lips.
Before he could rip his own pants off and sink into her right there on the stairs, Chris grabbed her limp body tight to him and walked up the remaining steps to the second floor. Getting inside her was all he could think about, to make her come while he was inside her.
The room he’d been sleeping in was well over ten feet down the hallway, but Agatha’s was right there. So nice and close, and after how many times he had fantasized about being in there, he wanted to make it a reality.
He didn’t take the time to look around Agatha’s room, just set her in the middle of the brown bedspread, dislodging a pile of folded laundry in the process, sending the stack to floor. Her arms were around him, and she held him for half a moment longer than necessary before they flopped down above her head.
Unrestrained, he started kissing down her body again, this time with the ability to look and touch every inch of creamy bare skin he wanted to—which was all of it.
His cock was throbbing under his jeans, demanding attention. As if Agatha herself could hear it, she sat up, and her hands reached for the button on his jeans. Her hands slipped over his stomach, but he arched away.
His need to have her fingers on his cock was strong, but he realized he wasn’t ready for them to be done yet. For the first time in his life, he felt that what they were doing wasn’t sex; it was something more. Something to savor, something not to be rushed.
Grabbing her arms, he pulled them above her head and leaned down to kiss her. Those kissable lips had been on his mind since the first day he had seen her. Now they were his to explore, to taste.
Letting go of her hands, he touched her nose with his and whispered, “Leave them.”
Her only response was a whimper, but they stayed above her head, buried below the dozen pillows leaning against her headboard.
“I want to savor you, starting at this scar that I want to know all about.” He kissed the faint mark that was almost always hidden by her dark bangs. Then his hand ran down her leg until it grabbed a pair of socks that had managed to stay on the bed when all the other clothes were gone. “To these crazy sexy fuzzy socks.”
Single-handedly, he pulled the socks apart and tossed one on the floor. He ran the other sock up her leg, the softness lightly grazing her body. He trailed it from her thigh, skimming the dark hair that covered her sex. Her whimpering started in earnest as he slipped past to her flat stomach. Circling her belly button, he watched her bite down on her lower lip, hard.
Kissing her until she released the lip from her teeth, he slipped the sock back over her core and swallowed the whimper that escaped her. Pulling away when her lips were safe from damage, he watched her nearly black eyes as the sock slid over her hard nipples over and over again, not breaking eye contact as her fisted hands crushed a small pillow to the top of her head, the only outward sign that he was having any effect on her.
Running the sock over her chest and neck, she crushed the pillow under her fingers. Then he slipped it over her face, brushing her lips, then kissing the lips, then again with the sock, kiss, sock. Until she whimpered again.
Every whimper caused his cock to strain more and more painfully against his jeans. As much as he was torturing her, he was doing worse to himself. Not that he cared; he loved every one of those whimpers.
Running the sock over her forehead, he asked, “How did you get this scar?”
Her voice was husky as she watched the sock brush her skin. “Harper, toaster, fourteen.”
Another sweep. “Your sister threw a toaster at you when you were fourteen?”
Her only answer was another whimper as the sock disappeared from the scar and reappeared again on her breasts, only to run over her nipple, down her stomach, and over her core again. He ran it down her left thigh, all without breaking eye contact. “What about this one?”
Her only answer was to shake her head, the pillow moving with it since it was pressed so tightly to it.
“You don’t know, or you are not telling?”
He dropped the sock and ran his bare finger over the inch-long white mark. The touch was so soft and delicate, as if he was concerned with hurting her. A whimper went through her again.
Her voice was shaky as her leg moved, trying to get his finger to touch her where she wanted him. “A guy I was with thought I was into pain.”
Shimmying down the bed, he slipped between her legs, and all his attention went back to the scar. He hated that it represented a man who hurt her, that there was something marring her body that someone had intentionally put there.
Suddenly, it dawned on him that he had once been just like the guy, doing what he wanted to do and not carrying about the woman he was doing it with. The mark on Agatha was a reminder of who he had been and who he never wanted to be again. A part of him he never wanted Agatha to even see.
“Never again, Agatha. Never again will I let anyone do that to you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” He looked into her eyes and promised.
Leaning down, he kissed the mark, then licked it before kissing it again, making it his own and taking away any thought of anyone else with her. He hated that anyone had been with her before him
Running his tongue over the mark, he let it slip further up as her whimpers grew louder until she was begging with his name on her lips. Unable to deny her any longer, he ran his fingers through her wetness a moment before his tongue, teeth, and mouth followed.
Begging and pleading instantly turned to moans and tremors, the same as she had on the stairs. Except this time, he could watch her face. As she got closer, her head started to toss back and forth, and her fingers gripped the pillow.
After only just one time with this woman, he knew when she was close. Her entire body started to shake, and her knees clamped around his head.
Sucking her into his mouth, he slipped a finger into her core. Her body jerked as she let out a scream, and the pillow above her head exploded into a cloud of white fluff.
As her body pulsed, he watched her head shaking back and forth as her hands clenched at the bedspread. With speed he didn’t know he still possessed, he wrenched his pants and underwear off. With only enough sense to grab his wallet from the jeans before they hit the floor, he pulled out a condom.
After rolling it on, he watched her open her eyes and then slid into her. With her eyes suddenly open and on him, he leaned down and kissed her deeply. He kissed her until he couldn’t be still any longer.
Then he started to slowly pump into her. Each thrust was met by a throaty sigh until they turned into gasps when he couldn’t go slow anymore. He needed to feel her come around him. With his hands on her hips, he thrust into her faster and harder.
Her legs wrapped around him, and he could feel her tremor, knowing she was getting close. With all his concentration on her coming, he forgot his own needs for a moment until her body started to quake and grip his cock, causing him to come instantly.
Sated, he rolled to the side so that he wouldn’t crush her. Then he rolled until he was on his back, and he wrapped his arms around her damp body, loving how perfectly she fit with his.
She rested her head on his chest, and with one hand on her back and the other on her ass, he made sure she stayed. Not that either was moving after that. They laid there for a long time before she gave a little shiver and sat up.
Agatha looked around the bed in question before touching his face. Her fingers came away with a little bit of the fluff.
“What is this?”
Chris smiled at her. She didn’t even realize the pillow had been sacrificed during their love-making. He hoped it wasn’t special.
“You ripped apart a pillow.” He wiped some of the fluff off her chest. Her nipples instantly hardened at his attention.
“I wouldn’t do that,” she argued.
“Then it snowed in here.”
“Don’t be silly. What happened?”
“I wish there was a recording so that I could show you. A replay.”
“Replay.” Shaking her head, she sat up and brushed some fluff from her arms.
He rolled her over and pinned her to the bed. “I guess I’ll have to do it again.”
“You can’t,” she said with a smirk.
“I will.” He promised and brought her hands over her head.
Agatha sighed. “Good luck. I’m spent.”
Looking around, he found the sock and held it up. “We can start with the sock.”
She whimpered, and he knew he definitely could make her come again. Apparently, his cock was on the same page.
“You remember this sock, right?” he asked and ran the sock again over her core, which caused her hips to jerk and for her to say his name as if he had been doing it for hours already.
“Say you remember, Agatha.” He held the sock inches above her body. Her hands plucked another pillow from the pile and it was already firmly pressed to her head, this one smaller and harder to misshape.
“I remember,” she said so breathlessly he barely heard it.
“Say you remember the sock making you break your pillow,” he said, running the sock over her core again. “Or do I have to make you come again?”
With a jerk of her hips, she hissed, “Come again. Please, Chris, now.”
At her sweet words, he couldn’t tell her no. He couldn’t even think of why he would want to. He positioned himself above her only to realize that he didn’t have another condom.
“I don’t have a condom.” He sat back on his heels. He wasn’t the kind of guy who would not wear a condom, no matter how drunk he was with a woman. So sober, he couldn’t do it either. Even with Agatha.
Below him, Agatha threw the pillow against the wall and shimmied away from him. Pushing pillows as the went, she opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out a string of condoms.
She ripped open a packet and walked back to him on her knees. Pushing him back on his back, she rolled it on him and climbed on after. Slipping into her hot core was just as great as the last time, except this time she was in charge. All he had to do was lay there and let her do all the work.
Her body was instantly shaking, her hands on his chest as her nails bit into his skin. But still, he couldn’t stop from coming when her body clamped around his.
Afterward, she lay on his chest as they tried to catch their breaths. She just lay there with her head on his chest.
Without picking up her head, she whispered, “I might have ruined a pillow.”
Squeezing her butt cheek, he said, “I told you so.”
Feeling her laugh was the last thing he felt until morning. Or until sometime in the night when he pulled the comforter around them. Even then, she didn’t stir. He didn’t even care that they were completely covered in pillow fluff. Morning would be soon enough to get that off in a nice hot shower. He just hoped she would join him.
