But I wasn’t prepared to spill the contents of my heart when I didn’t fully understand it myself.
“Okay…” Her forehead furrowed, but she obeyed, and I spent the rest of the day in agony, eyes fixated on her gorgeous ass as she strode ahead, my body in a perpetual state of thick, black desire.
Served me right.
I wanted her.
I could have her.
So why was I waiting again?
*
Every day, we travelled deeper into the forest, following the river and leaving behind the city we’d called home for so long. At night, we were pleasantly exhausted and returned to the ease of before when Della would ask for a story, and I’d willingly conjure past events we’d shared.
Even though I’d fully accepted the inevitable and just how screwed I was by falling in love with this woman, I hadn’t initiated anything past a kiss.
And Della remained true to her word and didn’t push me.
It’d become a silent joke, kissing, grinding, driving each other to the pinnacle of tearing off clothes and consummating but then pulling back at the last second.
Making out with Della was the best and hardest thing I’d ever done. Best because I never knew kissing could be pure fire, that a tongue could make me lose myself, that a fingernail dragged down my spine could almost make me come. And the hardest because I couldn’t let go…not yet.
We’d had almost two decades together, yet this element of touching and kissing was entirely new, and I wanted to learn everything I could before I jumped a grade. I wanted to be fluent in her moans. I wanted to know her levels of need.
Already, I knew her legs spread whenever I grazed my fingers along her lower belly. Her gasps became heavy whenever I’d tuck aside a curl and murmur in her ear how much I wanted her.
But it wasn’t enough.
I wanted to know what made her snap.
And on the fourth night, I found the spot as she spread out her sleeping bag while I kneeled at the bottom of the bed and pulled off my t-shirt. Her bare leg flashed me, her ribbon tattoo with its R, bright blue and taunting.
Without thinking, I flipped her onto her back, grabbed her ankle and dragged her freshly river-washed foot to my mouth.
She froze as I pressed a kiss on the ink, brushing my nose against her soft skin.
“Ren…” Her head fell back as I kissed her again, slipping my tongue out and licking the length of the ribbon all the way to the cursive capital of my first name.
I nipped her.
“Holy…” Her entire body crackled and sizzled with desire.
My fingers tightened on her ankle, holding her still as I licked the length again. “You got this to torment me.”
Her foot arched in my hold, her legs widened, her hands fisted in the sleeping bag. “No—”
“You got this because you were in love with me.”
“Y-yes.” Her breath caught as I nipped at the R again, scraping my teeth over the fine bones of her foot, fighting the feral part of me that wanted to clamp down and bite hard.
“You fantasied about me touching you.”
“Every night.” Her eyes met mine, blazing. “All the time.”
I almost gave up there and then.
My body had never felt so wired or hot or greedy.
The little boy shorts and t-shirt she slept in could so easily be removed, and her body feasted on.
But as much as I cursed waiting, I fucking adored the anticipation, and I licked her tattoo once more before placing her foot down gently. “You very nearly ruined me, Little Ribbon.”
Unzipping my jeans, I slipped out of them and didn’t bother hiding the raging erection I sported.
She licked her lips, eyes locked on my tented boxers. “And now you’re doing the same by teasing me so badly.”
I didn’t say anything.
I just wanted to bask in the heady drunkenness of lust and the unbelievable knowledge that I’d earned everything I’d never dared hope to earn.
Crawling beside her, I wedged her back into my front and breathed as hard as her.
And we just lay there.
Trembling with need.
Cooking with desire.
Fully aware we were playing a very dangerous game.
And we were utterly addicted to it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
REN
2018
BY THE SEVENTH day, that intense desire meshed with carefree laughing. We’d found a balance of friendship and chemistry that made me trip even deeper into love.
Every day, we tramped until our bones ached, and we’d make our home in the wonderful heart-warming high of being just us again. Whenever I looked at her, I wanted to explode with affection. Whenever she looked at me, my body begged to override my hesitation.
Her eyes had the power to send electricity fizzing down my spine and between my legs. Her laughter had the magic to make my chest ache and body throb. And when she stopped in a small clearing at twilight and shrugged off her backpack, she turned to me, not with relief at finding somewhere to rest, but with a demand I could no longer ignore.
I knew.
Even before she opened her mouth.
I knew.
With suddenly shaky hands, I pushed at the straps and let my bag slam to the forest floor.
The air changed. The trees froze. The creatures silenced.
“Della…” I didn’t know if I spoke in warning or acceptance or denial. Whatever I was feeling was drowned out by the overpowering appetite in my blood.
I wanted her.
I wanted her more than I could stand.
Taking a step toward me, Della reached up and undid the blue ribbon in her ponytail. The gold mass plunged around her face, making my mouth dry and my cock pay utmost attention.
“We haven’t put up the tent,” I groaned, breaking beneath the heavy pressure in my chest. The pressure that was done waiting. The pressure I’d been living with for so fucking long.
“I don’t care.” She bent and undid her laces, kicking her boots away, not fussed where they landed.
My knees trembled to move—either to her or away from her, I couldn’t quite decide. Thanks to the week of teasing, I didn’t trust myself around her. I didn’t know my limit of self-control anymore. I didn’t know how spectacularly I’d snap and what would happen if I did.
She’d always been my Della, but right here, right now, I was hers. Well and truly hers.
A slave to his queen, enraptured and caught and begging for her mercy. I was ready to kneel before her, but that final part of me that didn’t fully trust he could have this perfect life, the tiny sliver that still believed he ought to love her the way he always had, gave one last attempt at propriety.
“We’re dirty. We need a bath.” I spread my hands, revealing the mud-smudges and grime from hiking all day.
“I don’t care about that, either.” Her voice lost its sweet melodic tone, slipping straight into sin.
Goddammit.
I couldn’t compete with that.
I couldn’t deny her or myself any longer. She’d put a curse on me, deleting any other arguments or delays, keeping me pinned in her stare.
She stepped again, and my cock swelled to an agonising hardness. I coughed around a groan. “Della…you’re making this impossible for me.”
“Good.”
“What if we’re rushing—” Even to my ears that excuse was empty.
I was ready. So fucking ready.
“We’re not.” She wrapped the ribbon around her wrist, tying it quickly.
“At least let me put up the tent.”
“No.”
“We only get one first time, Della.”
“And I can’t wait any longer.”
“I’m not sleeping with you without a bed.” If there wasn’t something soft to support her, I didn’t know what sort of state she’d be in once I’d finished.
“Too bad we don’t have one.”
“If you gave me a few minutes, I could set it up.” I pointed helplessly at my bag. “At least let me—”
“I can’t wait another minute, Ren.” Her hair glittered in the fading light as she shook her head. “All day, I’ve been counting. Just another minute, just another minute. And now, we’re here. And I have no more minutes.
My heart lurched. “Our minutes seem to be up.”
“They do.”