Kristen Ashley - Breathe

I got another mouth touch after he went to his bedroom, I went to the kitchen and started rooting through for dinner fixin’s and he came back wearing his sweater, jacket and boots.

He left.

I made tacos. I ate tacos.

I put the leftovers in one of those reusable but disposable tubs that Chace, upon inspection, seemed to have a lot of.

I watched his big flat screen TV.

When the clock was about to strike midnight, I took off my makeup, moisturized, brushed my teeth, put on my sexy nightie and slid into Chace’s bed.

I thought I’d never get to sleep, what with where my body was resting. A place it had never rested in twenty-nine years, not only it being Chace’s bed, but any man’s.

But his mattress was the fraking bomb. It felt like a firm cloud.

So, seconds after my head hit one of his pillows, I was out like a light.

I swam up from sleep, feeling warm, delicious, my eyes fluttering open and closed as I felt weird sensations at my back and waist.

My eyes kept fluttering as a warm body fitted itself to the curve of mine, a strong arm circled my belly and pulled gently back so my warm body fit snugger into the one behind me.

Chace was home.

“Honey?” I called, my voice barely audible.

His arm around my belly gave me a squeeze. “Go back to sleep, baby.”

God, he really felt nice. Everything felt nice. His awesome mattress. The down comforter over us. Pillows that were just the right mixture of firm and yielding. The warm cocoon we were in. Chace the length of me, holding me close.

Then where he’d been, why he’d been there and the nuance of Misty that was attached to it penetrated. My eyes quit fluttering, my consciousness quit doing the same and I came awake.

“Are you okay?” I whispered.

“Go back to sleep, Faye,” he whispered back.

I laid there in the curve of his body, beyond comfortable, warm, safe, having had a nice night in a nice house and not being out in the cold dark investigating a murder and telling a family someone they loved was dead.

Then I moved my hand to his at my belly.

When I asked it this time, it was firmer.

“Chace, are you okay?”

His fingers extended out, mine fell through, his caught mine, lacing them and he closed both of our fingers tight.

Then he said quietly, “No. But I’ll be all right after I sleep.”

I pulled my hand from his but immediately turned in his arm.

He immediately adjusted with my body’s movements as he started, “Faye –”

I wrapped my arm around his waist, pressed close and asked, “Do you need to talk?”

“I need to sleep,” he answered.

“Maybe you should talk,” I suggested quietly and cautiously.

“Actually, baby, what I need is sleep.”

“It was bad,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” he whispered back.

Oh jeez.

“So you should talk,” I urged softly.

“Honey, you’re sweet but what I need is sleep.”

“You should get it out.”

His arm around my waist tightened and his voice got a little impatiently growly when he said a warning, “Faye.”

“It isn’t good to sleep on stuff, Dad says so,” I pressed.

“Your father is a wise man but I’m not bein’ nice, shieldin’ you. It’s late and I really need sleep.”

I pressed closer to him and whispered, “You bury stuff, it can fester.”

“Faye –”

“You have to work it out.”

“Faye, honey, seriously –”

“You don’t want to talk, then work it out another way. Make love to me.”

His body went completely still, he said not a word and I was with him on both counts.

Did I actually say that?

I would find that I did when in an instant I was on my back and Chace was on top of me.

“You serious?” he whispered.

No. I wasn’t serious. I was crazy.

Though, one couldn’t argue with the fact the weight of his big, heavy, warm body felt good on mine.

“Yes,” I whispered back.

“You ready for that?”

No. I absolutely was not ready.

Though, again, his big, heavy, warm body felt good on mine.

And, well, I hadn’t forgotten the conversation with Lexie, Laurie and Krystal and how they’d all had to unfuck a man and they’d done it (partially) by, well, fucking him.

Tonight, Chace had what was fucking him up come back up.

So…

Frak!

“Yes,” I whispered.

“You sure?”

He was reading me even in the dark.

“Yes,” I repeated quietly. My hands moved up the bare skin of his back, liking the feel but attempting to communicate I was sure.

“Faye, baby –”

He needed to get a move on. If this was going to happen, it was him who had to start it. I’d proven I could follow. I sure as heck couldn’t lead.

In order to facilitate this, I demanded quietly, “Kiss me, Chace.”

“Fuck,” he growled and my hand slid into his hair.

Seriously, his hair felt great.

This gave me courage so I lifted my lips to his and whispered, “Kiss me, honey.”

He slanted his head and kissed me.

Then, about a second later, he proved me correct.

I was great at following.

His kiss was not wild and abandoned. It was soft, sweet but still deep. He was starting slowly and I went with him, my hands moving on his skin, retracing their path from earlier, memorizing the feel of him, loving every inch.

His hands moved on me too, down my sides, a light touch that was still somehow firm and definitely warm. Or, at least, it warmed me.

As his hands moved up after going down, his mouth slid to my ear and he whispered, “What’re you wearin’, baby?”

“I, uh… came prepared,” I whispered back, felt him smile against my neck then his tongue ran the length of it as his hands slid back down the silk of my nightie.

I shivered.

Chace’s mouth came back to mine.

More slow, sweet kisses. More lazy, unhurried stroking. Then his mouth moved back to the side of my neck, worked there and I liked that. God, it felt beautiful. It moved to my throat, down and his tongue dipped into the dent at the middle of my collarbone. Something about that felt so sweet but so decadent, it quivered through me and I shifted restlessly under him.

Slowly, his mouth moved back up my neck as his hand moved to span my ribs.

When his lips hit mine, he asked quietly, “More?”

“Yeah,” I answered quietly back.

His hand moved up and cupped my breast.

My mouth moved before I told it to and this was to murmur, “Oh yeah.”

His thumb slid over my nipple.

My hands stopped drifting and my arms closed around him.

His mouth took mine in another kiss, not as slow, not as lazy, more heated, more demanding.

I gave. My tongue moving against his as Chace’s hand slid down, under the hem of my nightie and up. Then it was skin against skin, cupping my breast, his thumb doing a swipe.

God, even more beautiful. Perfect. My back arched slightly to press into his hand, he growled into my mouth and the kiss got even more heated and demanding.

I kept giving, my hands moving on him again, faster, covering more ground, one moved down over his behind.

Chace’s thumb stopped swiping, his finger met his thumb and he rolled.

Oh God, that felt great. So fraking great, my hand clenched his behind, I tore my mouth from his, shoved my face in his throat and whimpered.

Chace’s voice was thick, hoarse when he asked, “More?”

“Yes,” I breathed then, “You.”

“What?”

“What do I do for you?”

I felt his neck bend and in my ear he asked, “You trust me?”

“Absolutely,” I whispered my answer instantly.

“Christ, baby,” he whispered back then, “Follow me.”

I didn’t know what he meant until his hand moved out of my nightie. It found my arm, pulled it from around him, slid down and took my hand. Then he moved my hand to his side, in, over his ribs, across the ridges of his belly and down.

I held my breath.

Chace felt it and I knew this when he murmured, “Breathe, baby.”

I breathed.

He slid my hand down, down, down and in. I felt the crisp hair. I turned my head, pressed my lips to his neck then he took my hand down and his fingers wrapped mine around his hard cock.

Oh God, I liked that.

Holy frak, I liked that.

That was mine. That was for me. And it felt awesome.

I touched my tongue to his neck and my hand instinctively squeezed.

In return, his teeth nipped the skin of mine and he growled, “Want your mouth.”

I turned my head and gave it to him.

He took it. His hand on mine stroked down, then up and down again. My thumb slid in a circle around the silky tip.

So silky, vaguely I wondered how something so hard could feel like satin.

It didn’t matter because it was beautiful and it was hot. God, so hot. Amazing. Touching him was almost better than him touching me (almost).

At my touch, Chace groaned into my mouth.

Hotter!

“Chace,” I whispered against his lips, my body pressing upwards, my legs moving restlessly. His hand pulled mine gently away from his cock, up over his belly and around his back while his lips went to my ear.

“Faye, baby, right now, I’m gonna taste you. This means my mouth is gonna work between your legs. You’re gonna come in my mouth, honey, then I’m gonna take you. You ready for more?”