Stinger (A Sign of Love Novel)

"Oh God," he whispered, "The way you taste… it's like a drug."

And then he nipped my clit as I cried out with the ecstasy of it, pressing gently on his head to urge him on. If he stopped now, I knew for sure I'd die.

His tongue started circling slowly on the swollen little bundle of nerves, and I gripped the counter behind me and pressed more firmly against his face, unabashedly seeking my own pleasure.

"Oh, Carson," I breathed out as he grasped my thighs more tightly and pulled me even tighter against his face.

The pleasure built higher and higher as I watched the mirror in front of me through half-closed lids. The combination of sensory input was so overwhelming that when my orgasm hit, it was fast and hard, and I screamed out Carson's name as I pressed into his mouth.

He stood up and quickly stripped off his jeans, and before I could even form a coherent thought, he had lifted me onto the counter, so that I was at the very edge, grabbed a condom off the kitchen island, ripped it open, and rolled it on. He pressed into me, filling me completely.

I put my hands down on the counter behind me, as he started pumping into me relentlessly. He took my face in his hands and kissed me, his tongue thrusting into my mouth in tandem with the thrusting of his cock.

When he pulled away from me and pressed his face into my neck, I watched the mirror behind us again, this time watching the beautiful sight of his muscular ass contracting as he moved in and out of me. It was carnal and beautiful and I couldn't look away.

His breath hitched and he began panting into my neck, moaning out when his orgasm hit him.

He circled his hips slowly, milking his pleasure and when he brought his head up, there was a lazy smile on his face. So beautiful.

He kissed me again, deeply and tenderly, and then he pulled out of me and lifted me down. He took my hand as he led me into the bathroom where he tied the condom off and flushed it. Then he ran a washcloth under warm water and reached between my legs and washed me gently and kissed my lips quickly one more time.

Fifteen minutes later we were dressed and eating soup and sandwiches at the kitchen island.

We talked long after we had eaten, sitting as we held hands. We didn't talk anymore about his operation, or Josh's case. It felt like there was an unspoken agreement that that could wait for now, that it was also important that we get reacquainted again. For just this night, we needed to focus on us, just us. And so we laughed and chatted about what had gone on in our lives while we were apart.

Catching up like that felt necessary to what was going to come next. I didn't know how I knew that, I just did.

After a while, we moved to the couch in the family room and curled up together under a blanket and watched Zoolander on one of the movie stations, laughing and cuddling.

**********

Carson



We made dinner together, chatting more and enjoying each other's company. I hadn't been this happy in… I'd never been this happy. I knew there was a lot of stress waiting for us back in Vegas. And if there was anything, even something small that I could have been doing for Josh, I'd be doing it. But there wasn't and so for now, I was soaking Grace in. I enjoyed getting reacquainted with her, and I let the feeling that we were right, settle into my soul. I hadn't been wrong when I had thought that having her with me would make me stronger, stronger for Josh, stronger for everything. Having her with me was like lifeblood flowing back through my veins, giving me strength and purpose.

I opened a bottle of wine and we drank as we cooked, laughing and touching. I couldn't keep my hands off of her and it seemed like she felt the same way. Maybe we were making up for lost time, or maybe I just needed to keep reminding myself that she was here with me. Touching her gave me comfort, grounded me to the here and now.

After dinner, she got out a frying pan and told me to sit while she made a quick dessert. I drank my wine as she stirred a few ingredients together and chopped some bananas. A few minutes later when she brought it over to me, I saw what she had made and grinned. "Bananas Foster," I said. "My granny used to make this for me."

She nodded, smiling a gentle smile. "I know."

I furrowed my brow, taking in her sweet expression, remembering how I had told her that on the elevator all those years ago. "You remembered that all this time?" I asked.

She nodded. "I remember every part of that weekend," she said quietly, looking up at me through her lashes.

My heart squeezed in my chest and I leaned over and took her face in my hands and kissed her lips. "Thank you," I said.