My body was happy, flushed with heat and tingling. My heart was beating quickly, and I even felt a little out of breath. I like this feeling. I like that she loves me. Tell me again, Claire. Let me hear the words again.
But some stubborn part of my brain couldn’t let go and enjoy it. Couldn’t quite believe it was true. Couldn’t say the words back.
Why? Didn’t I love her? Didn’t she make me happier than anyone ever had? Didn’t I hate the thought of losing her?
Questions started to worm their way inside my brain, and I did my best to keep them out and stay in the moment, focus on the physical—my hand on her back, the scent of her perfume, the whisper of her breath on my neck.
But concentrating on the physical aspects of Claire had consequences, and I started to get hard. Yes, I thought. Sex was something I understood. Something I was good at. Something I could offer her. My body could succeed where my words would fail.
I spoke low in her ear. “I’m dying to taste you. Think anyone will notice if I put my head up your dress?”
She laughed. “It is a long dress, but yes.”
“Then when can I get you alone so I can bury my face in your thighs?”
“Mmm, that’s tempting.”
“I’m so hard right now.”
She gasped. “Are you?”
“Of course I am. I can’t think about my tongue in your pussy and not get hard.”
“Oh, God.”
“That’s what I want to hear—over and over again. I wonder how many times I can make you come tonight. Is three realistic? I like to aim high—I’ll go for four.”
“Theo.” She’d stopped moving.
“Yes?”
“I’m ready to go.”
We didn’t even wait for the song to finish, just grabbed our coats, said goodnight, and raced for the door.
* * *
I didn’t even wait until we got home.
“Pull up your dress,” I told her, my eyes on the highway, my hand on her leg.
She hesitated, glancing out the passenger window at the other cars on the highway. But she did as I asked.
“Good girl,” I said, sliding my hand up her inner thigh. “Now open your legs for me.”
Less than five minutes later, she was writhing in her seat, one palm flattened against the window, the other on the ceiling. I kept my eyes on the road and tried not to come in my pants.
“One,” I said when she was quiet again. Then I touched my fingertip to my tongue and pressed harder on the accelerator.
I gave her the second orgasm on the stairs going up to her bedroom. Her dress around her waist. Her legs slung over my shoulders. Her pussy squeezing my fingers while her clit throbbed under my tongue.
“Two,” I said, loosening the knot in my tie.
Then I unzipped my pants and delivered number three before she could even catch her breath.
I gave us both a little break before number four, just enough time for us to take off our clothes and get ready for bed. While she was still in the bathroom, I went up to the bedroom, got in bed, leaned back against the headboard, and took my cock in my fist. I watched her come up the stairs, hair down, makeup off, and nothing but a t-shirt on, which she whipped over her head and tossed aside as she moved toward me.
“I love when you do that in front of me,” she said, crawling up the bed, feline and seductive, her hair brushing my legs. “It makes me so hot. Can I watch?”
“Not tonight.” When she was straddling my hips, I positioned my cock between her legs. “Tonight I want to be inside you.”
With her hands on my shoulders, she lowered herself until I was buried deep. “Yes,” she whispered, her eyes closing, head dropping back.
Ten minutes later, I was nearly out of my mind with the need to come, but I was three quarters of the way to my goal. I couldn’t stop now. I tipped her onto her back and slipped my hands beneath her ass, tilting her hips up.
“Oh, God,” she gasped against my shoulder. “I can’t, I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” I knew the best chance of getting that final victory lay in keeping her aroused and not letting up. “And you will.” Fighting off my own orgasm, I thought only of hers, fucking her deep and tight to her body, grinding against her. I needed her to know how I felt about her, how much I cherished her, how nothing in my life had ever been this good.
I love her.
“Fuck,” I said, feeling control slip through my fingers. “It’s too good. I can’t stop.”
I love her.
“Oh God, I’m gonna come again,” she said frantically, like she was afraid of it. Her nails dug into my ass and her teeth sank into my shoulder.
I love her.
Silvery lights exploded in front of my eyes, all the tension inside me releasing in white hot bursts as my body emptied itself inside her and hers contracted around me in simultaneous ecstasy. It was the most amazing thing I’d ever felt—and it wasn’t just giving her four orgasms or coming inside her without a condom or the wordless language our bodies had taught each other.
It was acceptance. It was trust. It was love.
I felt it.
But I still couldn’t say it.
* * *
Over the next several days, Claire told me she loved me at least once a day, usually at night as she was falling asleep. Every single time, it made my heart beat a little faster, my breath feel short—an adrenaline rush. I always held her a little tighter after she said it, but even though I wanted to say the words back, they refused to budge from my heart to my lips.