Every slow, measuring caress sparked something to life low in the pit of her stomach, eventually making her squirm. He hovered closer when she moved, every plane of his body pushing up against hers. She could feel how hard he was just from touching her mouth and everything suddenly seemed connected, their bodies triggering a cycle of responses in each other. His thumb pressed between her lips, catching on her bottom teeth, tugging her mouth open only slightly. Her stomach clenched hard. His erection pulsed, and he lowered his mouth over hers, not releasing her or making any move to kiss her. Some of his sharp, crackling power eased from her skin, but the goosebumps along her arms remained.
“Do you want help? Or do you want to do it on your own?” he whispered. “Should I tide you over? Fill you up enough that you can last the night?”
She made a small, begging sound. It was all she could do with his thumb in her mouth. It seemed like a strings-free offer … like he really was a surrogate instead of her actual mate, and that allowed her to be in the moment, to not think too hard about what he was offering.
It didn’t really mean anything.
He slipped his thumb out of her mouth, replacing it with his lips, and she melted, just like she did every time he touched her. He controlled the kiss right from the start, using his grip on her chin to angle her face, tasting her slowly and sweetly until she felt like she was drowning and only his strong body anchoring her against the door was keeping her upright.
She grew restless, but he kept the same maddening pace, scrambling her brain. She tried to move, to push against him, to tug his shirt and quicken the kiss, but he only nipped at her lips for the effort. She half expected his skin to start glowing or another chain to magically appear, but something didn’t feel right inside her. Something deep within her was hurting, and while Theodore’s touch was tunnelling her into a nerve-wracking cloud of lust, there was something deep down that was still broken.
She was on her own with this. No magic to siphon away her inhibitions and make her brave.
So when his hand brushed over her stomach, pushing her back just far enough to draw the oversized shirt up, bundling it above the hem of her shorts, she suddenly found that she couldn’t breathe. He paused, his breath rough against her lips, and she realised he was debating whether to stop.
“More,” she whispered. He was holding back too much. She was burning up from the inside and he was far too controlled. She hated it.
He issued a throaty growl, inching his face back as he considered her.
“You sure?”
“M-more.” She tugged on his wrist to try and bring him closer, or to pull his arm around her, but instead, his fingers pushed into her shorts.
She hadn’t been prepared for that. She just wanted him to feel as out of control as she did, but as soon as his fingertips slid into her panties and brushed her clit, she realised it was exactly where she needed him. Anyone else might have tried to ease her into having their hands down her pants … but not Theodore. He liked to shock her. He applied a little bit of pressure, watching the colour flood into her face as she clutched nervously at his arms.
“Stop pushing my arms, Illy. I can’t risk feeling how wet you are.” He groaned the words, nipping at her chin before kissing her. His lips pressed harder this time, his tongue demanding more from her as his fingers gently circled the bundle of nerves, increasing the pressure until she was squirming. It was like he already knew her body inside and out. Like she was an instrument and he had been practising her studiously for years and had already been awarded some kind of diploma.
What she wouldn’t pay to see him not automatically succeed at something.
He watched her every reaction, changing the pressure and position and cadence of his touch with every shift in her expression or hitch in her breathing. He took her right to the edge and then suddenly stopped, cupping her sex gently and leaving her there to float and pant into his lips.
“Okay?” he rumbled, even though she was soaking the pads of his fingers and clutching his shirt so tightly she was almost tearing it off his wide chest.
It gave her a moment to level out the emotions raging through her, the furnace burning beneath her skin. She swallowed, tears burning behind her eyes, her nerves frayed.
Everything was frayed.
Her heart felt like it was in a tattered mess, unravelling all over the place and Theodore was letting her use him to overwhelm her senses, to ignore the clutter and fill her mind and body with a heat so scorching it barely mattered if she was unravelling or whole … but he wouldn’t let her escape entirely. He was bringing her back just far enough that she was still there, still with him.
He nuzzled her cheek, inhaling her scent, and she nodded.
“Fuck. My perfect girl,” he praised, low and rumbling, his wet fingers drifting back up to where she needed them, massaging her swollen bud until she was lost again, teetering on that same edge. “You’ve never looked so beautiful, Illy.”
The drop on the other side wasn’t so scary, this time.
Which was a good thing because he didn’t give her a chance to catch her breath again. As soon as she reached the precipice, he pushed her right off the edge without a warning, sending her into a dizzying, delicious wave of stuttered heartbeats, unsteady fluttering, and the pain-pleasure of her whole body clenching.
She wanted to scream, or cry, or pull him as close to her body as she could get him, but she didn’t have the strength. His whole body was vibrating when she blinked the black spots from her eyes, her throat hoarse even though she was sure that she hadn’t uttered a single word. He pulled his hand out of her shorts and gently adjusted them again on her hips, letting her oversized sweatshirt fall. She was limp against the door, a gentle hum taking up residence beneath her skin.
“How do you feel now?” he rasped, his hand disappearing beneath the waistband of his pants. He adjusted himself, his jaw clenching, his eyes flashing. When he dragged his fingers out, they were no longer glistening with her dampness.
For some reason, her body clenched again, really liking the fact that he had smeared her essence over his cock; it made a sharp, possessive feeling spear through her chest. It was just right. She was almost panicked at the thought that he could have walked away without doing that.
“I feel …” She swallowed, trying to stand straight again and trying to shove away her strange and intrusive thoughts. “Steadier and unsteadier.” She laughed softly. “More grounded and more freaked out.”
“Don’t be embarrassed.” The words seemed to slip out in accidental Alpha voice, and he winced, quickly amending, “Shit. I mean … please, don’t be embarrassed. You suffered a soul infraction. You need a little extra soothing. It’s natural.”
She nodded, chewing on her lip. It felt puffy and tender. “And you’re … I mean … you’re okay with—”
“Seriously. Don’t.” He grinned at her, his smile stretching wide and disarming, his perfect teeth flashing brilliantly. “I offered to be a surrogate. I knew you would need me to touch you.”
“I didn’t know.”
He scoffed. “Give me the signal and I’ll make sure you only have to suffer through one of us.” He narrowed his eyes on her. “I’m talking about me, by the way.”