Chapter Twenty Nine

The havoc he was wreaking was too thrilling to deny, his fingers plucking at the nipple he wasn’t sucking, a sweet torture that dragged a keening moan from Chloe's throat, and curled her hands over his broad shoulders, to take a bite out of his gorgeousness.

God, he was far too good at this. Her panties were already damp and he wasn’t anywhere near her pussy. Her fingers tunneled into his hair, holding him prisoner as his teeth grazed over one aching bud. Like a willing magnet, her back arched into his ministrations, desperate for more.

"Damn, you’re so fucking lush," he muttered, slashes of colour staining his chiselled cheekbones as he lifted his head. "There isn’t an inch of you I don’t want to taste."

With needy hands Chloe dragged him back, crying out when he latched onto her peak again. The suction was even more intense, tongue and teeth coming into deeper play.

"Oh, god, yes," she gasped as he mercilessly tormented her.

Maybe the crazy depth of sensation careening through her was because she hadn’t had good sex for so long. Or maybe she was feeling like this because this was Timothy. An older, edgier version of the boy who’d blazed her a memorable trail in the school she had despised until his arrival into her life had made her existence bearable, and the guy who’d been her best friend before he’d removed himself from her life.

Whatever the reason for her heightened emotions, a particularly clever twist of his fingers dragged her back to the present, to the heated blaze of his eyes fixed on her as he tormented her. Chloe gasped again as he lowered his head, flicked his tongue brazenly over her wet flesh and then blew on it.

"Timothy..." she gasped.

He kept hold of one globe as he trailed kisses down her midriff and belly to the edge of her panties.

Crouched over her like some dark overlord, Timothy scoured his nails lightly over the skin above the panty line, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. He repeated the action a few times, his other hand still tormenting her nipple, and each time she felt herself getting shamefully wetter. By the time his fingers dipped beneath the scrap of silk, she had forgotten to breathe.

One bold finger gilded between her folds and he groaned. "You’re so fucking wet. You’re close, aren’t you?"

"Yes," she panted, her hips lifting off the sofa to meet his next glide.

He circled slowly and sure, then dragged wetness to her clit. At the first touch, Chloe let out another cry. He removed his hands from her body, repositioned himself with one knee on the floor while dragging her panties down her legs. Tossing it aside, he spread her wide, his gaze zeroed in on her pink, glistening flesh.

A rough breath shuddered from him.

"You are so fucking beautiful, Chloe"

The quiet, almost reverent murmur made her heart lurch and, with his gaze fixed on her face, he slowly slid his middle finger inside her.

"And so bloody tight too"

He buried his digit to the hilt, then flicked it upward.

"Oh, God." Her thighs shook as pleasure rained through her. Slowly, he finger-fucked her, his breaths harsher the louder she moaned.

"Tell me, Is that the spot?" His voice was thick and hoarse.

"Yes!"

He gave a low, masculine laugh, then proceeded to pile up the torturous pleasure. One finger became two, but, although the pressure was deeply satisfying, it wasn’t enough.

"More," she demanded. "Put your mouth on me."

He shifted again, dropping his head between her legs. Her fingers immediately buried themselves in his hair, a part of her terrified he would stop.

He didn’t. And at the first glide of Timothy's tongue over her clit, Chloe screamed. By the third glide she was pleasure blind. But not deaf to the decadent sounds of his fingers inside her or his pained groans as she grew wetter, screamed her way to the edge and flung herself over it as he sucked her clit into his mouth.

Reality returned in a cascade of harsh breathing.

When Chloe opened her eyes, Timothy had moved away from her and was now standing at the window, his back to her, his shoulders rising and falling in a rapid movement that attested to his scramble for control. Tension screamed in the distance between them as she hastily fixed her clothes.

When she was reasonably decent, she exhaled. Now what? She had started it. She knew that. She had dared him and he’d gone for it. But from his rigid stance, nothing much had changed, except maybe for the worse.

Chloe decided to go for the direct approach. "Timothy..." she called.

He turned without answering, his gaze heated but hooded

"I don't know what is going on but I really have to ask. Is our friendship... Or whatever this is worth salvaging or am I wasting my time trying?"

His shoulders stiffened harder. "You just exploded back into my life, Chloe. I’ll need a minute to consider that."

Her shoulders slumped. "Well.... I guess that’s that, then. I am going to send you the date for the grand opening so you can meet Bryce. So I guess I will see you there"

He shoved his fingers through the hair she had gloriously disheveled, his eyes still a touch wild as they roved over her.

"You’ve got what you wanted. You can sleep soundly tonight knowing you’ve proved whatever point you wanted to prove. Let that be enough for now." he said.

Chloe raised an eyebrow. What the heck did that mean? But still, she couldn't stop herself from asking, "And if it’s not? What if I want my friend back?"

He stared at her in that unique way that always made her skin feel tight and raw and exposed. That way that said he saw and knew much more than he should. But while in the past she would’ve dropped her gaze, mumbled something along the lines of never mind or whatever, this time she met his gaze full on. Dared him to say the words she knew in her heart would flay and wound. He didn’t disappoint her.

"The guy you knew is gone. You’re doing us both a disservice by clinging to the past. It’s time to move on."

Chloe didn’t speak as he slowly strolled back to where she stood, praying her eyes wouldn’t mist with the tears prickling wildly.