Virtuous(50)

“Tell me.”

“I…” She opens her eyes, and again I see fear mingled with obvious desire.

“Talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking.” I nuzzle my nose into the valley between her breasts.

“Touch me. Please touch me.”

I cover her breast with my hand, squeezing gently and rubbing my thumb over the tight point. “Here?”

She bites her lip and nods.

“Are you sure?”

In answer to my question, she releases the front clasp of her bra, surprising me once again.

Her breasts spring free and fill my hands, testing my control all over again. I want to possess her, but I’m careful, gentle with the gift she has given me and probably no one else. She inferred last night that she’s never before had a boyfriend, although how that’s possible, I’ll never know. Is every other guy in the world blind and stupid? She’s a treasure, a priceless gift that came barreling into my life at a time when I’d all but given up on ever finding anyone who could soothe the disquiet in my soul.

Because she is all that and so much more, I move carefully, cautiously as I caress her, working my way slowly to the straining tips that tighten under my hands.

My dick is about to explode from the urge to get in on this, but I try to ignore that urgent need to focus on her. I’m wondering what she’ll allow me to do when the tug of her hand on the back of my head guides me toward what I want more than anything.

I run my tongue around her right nipple, and she goes crazy under me, tugging my hair and pressing every part of her against every part of me. Jesus… This is f*cking insanity. With any other woman, I’d be deep inside her by now, f*cking her senseless. But with Natalie, that’s not an option, so I take what she’s offered and I feast on her, sucking and tugging and licking her nipple until she cries out from the pleasure—at least I hope it’s pleasure she’s feeling.

Then I do the same to the other side, working her over until I’m sure she’s not thinking of anything other than me and the incredible connection that sizzles between us.

But I can only take so much of her sweet brand of torture. I have to rein myself in and take control of this situation before we move past the point of no return. I drop my head to her chest, which is heaving from the air she’s dragging into her lungs.

“Why did you stop?” she asks after a long period of silence in which the only sound is that of both of us breathing hard.

“Because if I don’t stop now, I won’t be able to.” I force myself to raise my head, to look down at her face, which is rosy and flushed with desire. “You told me the day we met what isn’t going to happen. If we keep this up…” I drop my head back to her chest. “God, Natalie, I want you so bad. You have no idea.”

“I want you, too. I hope you know that. It’s just that I… There are reasons. For why I feel the way I do.”

“I know, and I’m trying to respect your boundaries, but if we don’t stop this now, I’m afraid it’ll go further than you want to go.” To my profound astonishment and dismay, her eyes fill with tears that quickly spill down her cheeks. She closes her eyes, tightly as if that will contain the flood. “Natalie, sweetheart… Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Everything,” she whispers. “Everything is wrong with me.”

I kiss the tears from her face and hold her as close to me as I can. “No, honey. Don’t say that. You’re amazing, and I’m completely gone over you.”

“That’s so sweet, and you’re so… You’re… Incredible. You’re incredible, and I should be able to do this, but I can’t.”

“What can’t you do?”

“This.” The single word is spoken so emphatically, with such disgust and fury that I’m not sure how to react. “I can’t do this because I’m broken. Inside.”

“Did someone hurt you, sweetheart?” I feel, for the first time in my life, that I could commit murder at the thought of someone doing harm to her.

She pushes at my shoulder, and I realize she wants to sit up. So I move quickly to release her.

Natalie grabs for her sweater, and I help her into it. When she reaches under it to refasten her bra, I try not to watch, but I can’t look away. Then she looks at me, and the pain and agony I see in her normally exuberant gaze shatters me. “I should go. This… You… You’re lovely and wonderful, and you’ve been so kind to me. But I…” She shakes her head, and the stark misery is in such contrast to her normal demeanor that I’m shaken to my core. And I’m afraid. I’m very, very afraid of losing her now that I’ve found her.