#chapter Forty-Two
The power had gone out in her part of town, too, but as she’d said, Maura built a fire. One of the reasons she’d bought this bungalow was for the working fireplace, and though it could be a pain and a mess, she loved the smell of a real wood burning fire. With marshmallow, chocolate and graham crackers, they could even make s’mores. She’d also pulled out a can of chicken noodle soup and heated it over the fire — along with some French bread, it satisfied her gnawing hunger as well as any gourmet meal, and she told him so.
“Best laid plans,” Ian said, though not as dejectedly as he had before. With a glass of wine in him and bundled in a pair of her overlarge fleecy sweatpants to replace his wet and torn khakis, his mood had lifted.
Maura had spread out a large sleeping bag for them to sit on, with the thick quilt from her bed to wrap around them because even with the fire going, the old house was full of drafts. Now she scooted closer to him. “You know what? Just the fact you had all of this planned, this whole night, all of it…that’s what means the most to me. Even though none of it worked out the way you wanted it, the fact you went through all the effort of trying to make this night special means more to me than anything.”
She kissed him softly, waiting for his mouth to open under hers. When it did, she slid onto his lap and cupped his face with her hands. She’d changed into yoga pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt, and she could clearly feel his growing erection through the thin material. Stroking his tongue with hers, Maura rocked slowly forward against him. She let her breasts rub against his chest. The t-shirt she’d lent him was oversized on her, but fit Ian like a second skin. She could feel the points of his nipples through it, and she shuddered.
“Ian, I want you.”
His arms went around her. Fingers pressed the trigger points on her back, the pleasure-pain making her squirm on his lap. She broke the kiss with a gasp, still holding him close. Ian’s hands moved down to settle on her hips. Between them, barely restrained by the sweatpants, his cock was even harder.
“I want you, too, but it’s only the first date —”
“Shut up,” she said into his mouth. “Don’t you dare.”
Ian’s fingers tightened on the bare skin of her hips between the hem of her shirt and the waistband of her pants. “Yes, ma’am.”
She kissed him again, savoring his mouth. Soft, sweet kisses, interspersed with harder ones. Their breaths mingled, and she drew him into her slowly. Other than the subtle rock of her hips and her mouth on his, she didn’t move.
Ian groaned, at last, and Maura couldn’t hold back a secret smile. She ground herself against him, loving the way he reacted. His kiss stuttered for a moment before he broke it to look into her eyes.
“I’ve thought about this,” he said. “Dreamed about it, even.”
It seemed impossible that she should be able to press herself closer to him, but somehow Maura managed. She stroked her thumbs over his eyebrows, then over his mouth to tug it open for her kiss again. Pressing her cheek to his, she whispered, “me, too.”
He held her close for a minute or so in silence broken only by the throb of her heartbeat in her ears and the crackle of the fire, now burning low. They breathed in unison. In. Out. His hand stroked down her back; hers cupped the back of his neck.
“There were nights when I couldn’t sleep because all I could do was think about you,” Ian said. “I’d think about the feeling of your hair against my face. The way you taste and smell. I’d imagine the sound of your laughter, and it would kill me, Maura. Slaughter me.”
“And then you’d text me.”
He laughed. “Yes. Sometimes. When I couldn’t stand it any more. But there were lots of nights when I couldn’t make myself do it.”
“Those were the nights I was bargaining with God,” she told him. “Please, please let Ian text me.”
They both laughed at that.
“I was stupid,” Ian said.
Maura kissed him again. “Yes. You were. Touch me, Ian.”
“Where?” His sly grin told her he already knew.
Maura guided his mouth to her throat. “Here.”
Ian groaned again, teeth pressing her flesh. When he bit down harder, Maura gasped. When his hands slid up to cup her breasts, thumbing the nipples erect through the thin material of her shirt, she cried his name. Already aching with need for him, she ground herself against the thickness of his cock.
The tent they’d made of the quilt had warmed them, and now when Ian threw it off them the air seemed extra cold even in front of the fireplace. Maura shivered, her skin humping into gooseflesh from the chill but also from the scrape his teeth against her. She let her head fall back. Ian’s mouth skimmed lower to nibble at the hollow of her throat. He put his mouth to her breasts, hot, damp breath pressing through the fabric. She cried out again when he took a nipple in his mouth, the sensation blunted enough to tease, but still delicious.
“Take this off.” Ian eased her shirt up over her head, and gave a happy, muffled sigh at the sight of her bra. “So hot.”
She cupped herself, pushing her tits together. “You like?”
“I want to bury my face in there.”
“Go ahead,” she said with a laugh. “Maybe later you can put something else in there, too.”
Ian gave a choked laugh. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“No. Just get you hard.” She reached between them to stroke him. “Oh, Ian, Ian, you feel so good. I want to taste you.”
Fuck, she loved the look on his face when she said things like that. His eyes went wide, pupils dilated, mouth a little slack and wet from her kisses. She loved knowing that just her words could turn him on so much.
“Will you let me, Ian?” She drew out the syllables of his name, knowing it was a trigger for him. Also her expression, wide-eyed, bordering on innocent. She ran a finger across his chin, then tapped his lips. “Will you let me taste you?”
“Oh…shit, yes. Please.”
Maura smiled and got off his lap, standing so she could hook her thumbs in her waistband and push her yoga pants over her hips. She stepped out of them and stood in front of him in the bra and panties she’d so agonized over. She did a little wiggle, meaning to tantalize him.
She wasn’t expecting Ian to reach for her, or to go to his knees in front of her. Maura coughed in surprised when he kissed her, his hands gripping her ass to hold her in place. Ian looked up at her as he reached over his shoulder to pull off his t-shirt. Then, still kneeling but proving his agility, he wriggled out of the sweatpants without getting to his feet.
“Wow,” she breathed.
“I’m nimble.”
Then his face was between her legs again, and Maura couldn’t find her voice for more than a long, shivery moan. He licked her already swollen clit through the lace. His hot breath urged her hips forward. She needed his touch, his tongue, his fingers inside her, but Ian didn’t pull her panties off. He licked and nibbled at the inside of her thighs before going back to her cunt, but he was teasing her on purpose. Her legs were starting to shake when he looked up at her again.
His eyes gleamed. Cheeks flushed. His mouth was wetter than it had been before, and he swiped his tongue across it. “Let me taste you.”
Without waiting for an answer, he tugged her panties down and buried his face between her legs. Maura’s hand went automatically to the top of Ian’s head, her fingers digging into his thick, dark hair. He flickered his tongue along her clit until she whimpered.
“Sit,” he said, and snaked an arm to pull the rocking chair close enough for her to obey.
She fucking loved it when he took charge like that. Maura sat, the curved wood cold on her bare ass. Ian pulled her hips to bring her to the very edge of the seat.
“Hold the arms.”
She did. When he pushed her legs apart, she arched her back, giving into whatever he wanted to do to her. Ian’s mouth on her was magic; everything about him had always been magic.
“You taste so sweet. You’re so wet already. For me?”
“Yes, Ian, for you. Always for you.”
She caught sight of a very pleased look on his face before he bent back to rub his mouth along the seam of her pussy. He parted her with his tongue, then focused again on her clit. Maura’s grip tightened on the arms of the chair, but she didn’t let go. She let her ass slide a little closer to the edge of the chair.
Still kneeling, Ian covered her clit with his mouth and began to rock the chair. A little bit, just enough to move her body back and forth beneath him while he stayed still. The sensation was so new, so different, and pleasure arced through her like crackling sparks. The muscles of her belly and inner thighs leaped. She had a hard time staying still.
“You like this?” He murmured muffled, and the motion of his mouth forming words sent another coil of desire spiraling through her.
“Yes.”
“You want me inside you?”
She wanted that more than anything at that moment. Ian teased her, though. Instead of pushing inside her with his delicious cock, he slipped a finger inside her. Then another. Fucking slowly back and forth, he timed his strokes to the back-and-forth motion of the chair and the sliding of his tongue.
Her body contracted around him, and Ian groaned. “Fuck, that’s so hot. I can feel you getting tight around me. I want to feel you come, Maura.”
She was close, but not quite there. All she could manage was a shaky, “mmmm.” When he fucked deeper into her with his fingers, curling them upward to get at her G-spot, she shook so hard the chair’s rockers squeaked on the hardwood floor.
“Easy girl,” he whispered against her. “Let it go. Come for me.”
It was too much, almost. This pleasure. So fierce it took her breath away, so concentrated, so targeted. Ian curled his fingers again.
“Oh. Oh, my God,” Maura said. “Oh, Ian, that’s…”
“This?” Ian said, still suckling at her clit while he rocked her against his curling fingers.
Maura was lost. Tipping over. Pleasure overtook her, sweeping her into a whirlwind of ecstasy. Her vision focused to a narrow pinhole, and all she could hear was the sound of her own voice, begging him to let her come. And still he teased her, holding off, while the sensation built and built in her clit, her cunt, everything contracting until she could stand it no longer.
Her orgasm ripped through her with blunted edges, the pleasure of it edged with the pain of how strong it was. She cried his name. Her hips bucked. The wooden rocking chair creaked and protested, but it didn’t matter because everything felt so good, she thought she might die.
A minute or so passed while her breathing slowed and she could focus again. Ian had laid his head on her thigh to look up at her, and Maura uncurled her stiff and aching fingers from the grip she’d had on the chairs arms. Most of her body ached from the somewhat awkward position, but the heat and gloriousness of her orgasm made every odd pain insignificant.
“I want you,” she told him. “Inside me. Your cock, not your fingers —”
“I thought you liked that,” Ian interrupted, and she swatted at him. He stood, pulling her to her feet, before turning to take her place in the seat. “Get on my lap.”
At first she wasn’t sure how to do it, but then she put her legs through the openings under the chairs arms. She could get her feet flat on the floor that way. Her hands on Ian’s shoulders, Maura lowered herself onto him, slowly, inch by inch. He groaned when she’d seated herself completely.
“You feel so good inside me.”
“I’m not sure how long I can last,” Ian admitted. “You’re so fucking wet, Maura, I’m about to go out of my mind.”
“Shhhh,” she told him. “Easy.”
They laughed, and it was pure pleasure. Maura pushed off the floor with her feet, setting the chair to rocking. It moved him inside her. Back and forth, they rocked, while she kissed his mouth. Adding a little roll of her hips brought her clit to rub his belly, and that felt good. She’d come so hard, she was sure there wasn’t another one left in her, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to try.
This position meant neither of them had to do a lot of gymnastics to keep moving, and they rocked that way for a long time. Every time Ian started to shake, Maura eased the pace. Kissing him, she lost herself in every sensation. His hair on her face when she nibbled his neck, the points of his nipples beneath her palms, the jut of his hipbones pressing into her thighs when she squeezed him with her legs. She’d thought she knew everything about Ian’s body, but there was always something new to explore. Some new way to make him sigh.
Tucking herself against him, her face against his neck, Maura rocked the chair. Ian’s breathing grew raspy. Under her palm, his heart beat harder, faster. Knowing how close he was turned her on, and she reached a hand between them to give her clit just enough extra pressure…
“Oh, God,” she breathed. “That feels…”
“So good,” Ian said. “I’m gonna…”
“Me too.”
“Come with me,” Ian said. “I want to feel you clench around my dick.”
It could’ve sounded crude, but it was what finally tipped her over the edge again. Maura rode him, the chair creaking its protests for the second time. She came in slow, shaking waves. Ian cried out, fucking upward so hard it lifted her feet off the floor. He bit at her throat until she cried out again. He finished within seconds of her, and the chair slowed, slowed…stopped.
“I love you,” Ian said against her skin. “I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out.”
She wasn’t going to cry, not even happy tears. Swallowing the tightness in her throat, Maura looked at him, cupping his face. “All that matters is that you did. And you’re here. And we can try.”
“It’s all anyone can do, right?”
“Yes, Ian.”
He smiled, and she fell in love with him all over again. “You sure you want this? I’m cranky, especially when I’m not sure things are going to work out, and I can be hard to deal with —”
“Shut up, Ian.” She stopped his words with a kiss. “This is it. You don’t get to back out now.”
He paused to look at her, his smile going solemn. “No. I don’t want that. Not at all.”
“I love you.” Maura ran her fingers through his hair. “And no, it’s not supposed to work with us. I know it’s taking a chance. I know it’s being reckless…”
“Perfectly,” Ian interrupted, and after that, there was more kissing.
Lots of it.