He breathes in sharply at my words.
“My bedroom is upstairs,” he says as I kiss his jaw again, nipping lightly at the skin with my teeth. His hands are tense as they settle on my hips. “I should have moved into the master bedroom, but I haven’t gone in there since… Oh, that feels good.”
I just sucked on his pulse, feeling it quiver beneath my touch. I smile and pull back, pleased by his reaction.
“Well, let’s start up there and work our way down,” I say with a wink. “Lead the way.”
He blinks for a moment, trying to get his thoughts back on track. Then he smiles and steps away. I allow him; I’d stay plastered to his side if it meant getting up the stairs safely.
“Follow me,” he says.
My anticipation rising with each step, I follow him up the carpeted stairs. The hallway on the next floor has thick, blue carpet that sinks under my feet, and I see several photos on the walls. Before I can get a good look, however, Lyle opens a door, catches my wrist and pulls me inside.
My first thought is to wonder how this is not the master bedroom. The entire room is almost as large as my entire apartment! It isn’t just a bedroom, there’s a small living area set up in one corner with a massive television on the wall and a study on the other side of the room. It’s clear that Lyle spends most of his time here, likely to avoid rattling around the massive house on his own.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” Lyle jokes.
“The thing this place isn’t is humble,” I inform him. I step in toward him. “But I still wouldn’t say no to a very thorough tour of this room. Maybe you can show me your bed?”
He grins and catches my hands, lacing his fingers with mine. Then he walks back, pulling me in his wake. There are only some lamps on in the room, likely left on when Lyle left this morning, and neither of us bother to turn the main light on. The dim lighting gives the area a sultry, intimate feel, and I catch Lyle’s eyes, held by his gaze.
I can see his emotions in his eyes. He’s happy. We won and now we’re here, together.
“You’re perfect,” Lyle says quietly.
He reaches out to cup my cheek in one of his hands. The touch is soft and intimate and my eyes flutter at the feeling of his fingers brushing my skin. His thumb lightly runs over my lips, and I part them to lick the digit slightly.
“Thank you for standing up to Dad,” I say.
“There was no way I was letting you go, not when I finally had you,” Lyle says.
He leans in and kisses me. The kiss is soft and sweet, just like his touches. His tongue touches my bottom lip, requesting entrance, and our tongues tangle lazily together. There’s no rush anymore. We have all the time in the world to be together and explore.
I feel the mattress brushing my knees and I sit, bringing Lyle down with me. Both his hands are on my face now, his fingers tangling in the hairs framing my cheeks, and he presses more firmly into the kiss, deepening it and pulling a groan from my throat as he sucks on my tongue.
The sweet feel dies away, replaced by a surge of lust as one of his hands lowers, brushing down the side of my body before settling down on my hip. We break out of the kiss, needing to breathe, and we pant, staring at one another. His lips are as red as mine likely are. My hands are tangled in his shirt and his free hand is traveling down my back to press against the dip at the base of my spine, pulling me in closer.
“Amazing,” he murmurs, ducking his head to kiss my neck. I feel a little stubble on his chin, which scrapes against my skin and makes me gasp at the rough sensation. Flames are building up within me, and I’m starting to feel like the touches I’m receiving aren’t enough anymore. “Your body is so responsive to me. Do you want more?”
“Please?” I breathe.
He shifts, pushing me back onto the bed and hovering over me, swinging one of his knees to straddle me. He braces his arms on either side of my head and looks down at me. His eyes are glittering and I can see sweat beading on his forehead.
“I’m glad you’re here with me,” he whispers.
He leans in and kisses me before I can answer. I reach up and tangle my hands in his hair. I’m really glad, too, that we’ve gotten here. It makes me feel that the future is far brighter than I thought it would be.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Lyle
I look down at Amanda. She’s breathing heavily beneath me, her body limp and trusting under my weight. She’s looking at me in anticipation, waiting for what I’ll do next.
Part of me can’t believe that we’re really here in my room. So much has happened in the last few days. It’s been a constant up-down of emotions and events. There were several points where I honestly didn’t think our relationship would survive.
But it did. And we’re here, and Amanda is looking up at me with an expression full of trust and love. I want her so badly right now, and I can see, from the darkening lust in her eyes, that she wants me too.
We still need to talk, of course. There’s a lot we need to go over. I need to make sure she’s definitely okay with all the secrets we were both keeping, since we haven’t yet had a moment to sit down and talk about that.