Angel's Fantasy: Steamy Older Man Younger Woman Romance Page 4

  “Take this off,” his hands moved to play along the hem of my shirt, sending another shiver down my back as his knuckles grazed the bare skin of my stomach.

  It was as close as he’d been to touching me, and it made me want more, made me crave it.

  I scrambled to follow his order, fumbling with the tiny buttons at the collar of my shirt—God, why hadn’t I worn something easy to get out of?

  Finally, it was up over my head and I tossed it behind me, not feeling at all self-conscious this time as his eyes traveled down over my breasts. I wanted him to see me, all of me. I wanted his dick to ache for me the same way I was aching for him.

  “This, too?” I asked, already unfastening my bra before he could answer.

  He nodded—a good thing, since I wasn’t about to stop. “All of it,” he said, the low rumble of his voice thick with desire. “Everything. I wanna see all of you.”

  Fuck.

  It was all I needed to hear.

  I shrugged out of my bra and pulled down the short shorts I was wearing along with my panties in one swift motion that left them pooled at my feet. Feeling more bold than ever, I stepped out of the pile of clothes and reached for him, but he caught both of my wrists in his hands.

  “No. Wait.” He shook his head slightly as he let go, and I reluctantly let my arms drop back to my sides.

  He was pushing me to the edge, and he knew it, but as he took a step back and let his eyes drink in the sight of my naked body, I could tell that he wasn’t in any hurry to give me the release I so desperately needed.

  “Please,” I whispered, my voice so quiet that I wasn’t even sure he’d be able to hear it. “I need…”

  “Need what? Tell me, Bella.”

  Was he taunting me? Teasing me? Trying to torture me?

  Whatever. I didn’t care anymore. I’d play his game if it meant I could have what I wanted in the end.

  “I need your mouth…” I swallowed hard. “Your tongue… please.”

  He reached down and adjusted himself, his big hand tugging at an even bigger bulge.

  God, that was what I needed.

  Then he slowly licked his lips and took a step forward, pressing his body against mine. He bent down and pressed his face against my neck. I could feel his hot breath against my skin, could feel him inhaling me.

  “Yes, more… please,” I was panting, struggling to keep my hands to myself as his lips trailed down my body.

  I needed to touch him, and reached for him before I could stop myself. But he’d anticipated my move, as if he knew my mind and my body better than I did, and pinned my hands to my sides again as he stood up and looked down at me with a sexy smile.

  “If you’re going to keep disobeying me, I’m not going to give you what you want…” His voice was low and quiet, but it still seemed to fill the room, to rumble through my body as I took in every word.

  “Please, no,” I shook my head, using my eyes and my voice and my body to plead with him. “I’ll be good, I swear, just please don’t stop.”

  I should’ve felt ashamed at the way I was begging, but I didn’t. I didn’t give one single fuck about the way I sounded or how pathetic I might have looked. The only thing that mattered to me in that moment was what he could do to my body.

  His hands still around my wrists, he gently pushed me backwards until I was pressed against the wall. “I’ll make you feel good, but I think I’ll hold onto your hands for now…”

  Yes. Whatever. Do whatever you want. I don’t care, just please hurry.

  My brain was screaming the words, but they wouldn’t come out. My throat had gone dry, and I could only hope that he could read my mind as well as he’d been able to read my body.

  He lowered himself onto his knees in front of me and leaned in closer. I could feel his rough stubble as it scraped across the sensitive skin at the tops of my inner thighs, and could feel the tip of his tongue as he teased and flicked it up and down along my slick folds.

  Yes, God. Thank you Jesus.

  It was finally—finally—happening.

  A long, loud moan escaped my lips, and I pressed my hips forward, wanting—willing—him to do more. Faster. Now.

  He seemed to get the message, and I was rewarded with the sensation of his tongue probing deeper, more insistently as he lapped and licked and teased, parting my lips to let his teeth gently graze across my sensitive clit.

  “Oh my God,” I panted, my knees buckling as I started to slide down the wall, but he somehow held me in place with his hands around my wrists and his face in my pussy.

  He didn’t stop, though—didn’t even slow down. He just propped me up against that wall and buried his face deeper, his tongue alternating between darting in and out, then lapping up and down.

  “Yes, just like that, Angel, oh my God,” I moaned again, finally able to catch my breath and my balance for long enough to start riding his face, grinding against his mouth and giving myself over to that magical tongue.

  I felt more than heard the deep rumbling growl as it passed from his chest directly through my body, and it made the breath catch in my throat. It sent a warmth radiating up from my core to the rest of my body, and I could feel the climax building inside me, almost ready to overtake me.

  The connection I felt with him went deeper than just sex. It was instinctual and primal, and just like he’d anticipated my movement earlier, he seemed to know just what I needed now without me saying a word.

  He moved his attention back to my clit, sucking at it, pulling and stroking and nipping with his tongue and his teeth and his lips. It was enough to push me over the edge, and he finally let my hands go free just in time for me to grab his head and hold him there as the first waves of my orgasm washed over me, flooding my senses as I bucked wildly against his face.

  His big hands reached around and grabbed my ass, kneading it and pulling me in even closer, harder, tighter as the last shockwaves of my climax sent little tremors through my body, leaving me shaking and bent over him.

  I don’t know how he managed to keep breathing, but he stayed there, supporting me with his body for several long minutes, until I finally pushed myself back upright.

  He stood up again and smiled down at me, lifting his hand and rubbing his thumb along my bottom lip.

  “Thank you,” he said, finally, although I felt like I should’ve been the one thanking him. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.”

  All I could do was nod my head and close my eyes as I slumped back against the wall, completely exhausted.

  And then, just as quickly as it had started, it was all over. I didn’t open my eyes again, but I could feel him moving away from me, could hear his footsteps as they receded down the hallway to his bedroom, leaving me alone again.

  Thinking of him.

  Again.

  Angel

  “Angel, please… let me… yes… I need you…”

  In my mind’s eye, I could see her perfectly, her beautiful body sprawled out on the bed in front of me, her back arched and her hand between her thighs.

  “Come on, Angel, don’t make me wait. I’m begging you…”

  Her hips raised up off the bed as she dipped a finger into that sweet, pink pussy that I could still taste like honey on my tongue, hours after I’d made her come. Christ, did she know how gorgeous she was?

  “Don’t you want me, Angel? Why won’t you let me please you the way you’ve been pleasing me?”

  I cracked an eye open and raised my head off the pillow. For a while, I had bounced in and out of consciousness, a part of me completely aware that it was all just a dream even though another part of me—a rock-hard, throbbing part of me—wanted it to be real.

  My cock might be ready for round two of what we had started earlier, when the temptation had grown too strong and I’d finally given in, but my head wasn’t ready. And my heart definitely wasn’t ready.

  The Bella in my dreams had been as beautiful and perfect as the one lying across from me in bed, bu
t dream-Bella had given voice to the feelings that the real-life version was too proud to show. Dream-Bella was vulnerable and questioning where the beautiful woman in front of me was proud and stubborn. And even though that vulnerability might only exist in my dream for now, I knew it was still there in reality, just waiting under the surface.

  I’d seen it in her eyes, no matter how hard she’d tried to hide it with her cocky attitude and slick mouth.

  I rolled over onto my stomach and ground my hips against the mattress, trying to relieve a little bit of the pressure that had been building throughout my dream.

  It was no use, though. That hard-on wasn’t going anywhere—not with my beautiful Bella so close to me that I could hear her breathing, could hear the little whimper and the contented little sighs she made when she was dreaming.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to think of something else, anything else that would put me back to sleep and get rid of my aching erection. All I could think about was Bella, though.

  And that certainly wasn’t going to help the hard-on situation.

  “Let me suck you, baby,” dream-Bella said, giving me her sly little grin as she beckoned me over. “You know you want me to. Let me make you happy.”

  Abruptly, I turned back over and exhaled loudly, only belatedly looking over to make sure I hadn’t disturbed her. The Bella in my dreams was tempting, for sure, but my dreams were betraying me—letting her say all the things I wanted to hear.

  It might be fine in a dream, in a fantasy, but I couldn’t confuse those dreams with the reality that she just wasn’t ready to go there with me.

  She might want to feel me inside her, but she wasn’t ready to let me into her heart.

  And the simple truth was that she might never be ready.

  I sighed and turned onto my side again to face her as I curled an arm up under my pillow. Yep, those thoughts had finally done the trick. I might be able to look at her and lust after her for hours, for days, forever, but knowing she didn’t feel the same way about me?

  That was more than enough to keep my desire in check.

  I woke up again, this time from the morning sun falling across my face. I opened my eyes and then shut them again, turning over to bury my face in my pillow.

  I wasn’t ready for another day, another battle of wills with Bella. I wanted to get back to those dreams I’d been having just a few hours before. At the time, they’d given me a case of blue balls that I’d been eager to get rid of, but now?

  Yeah, I’d take blue balls over the prospect of several real-life hours looking at but not touching the woman of my dreams.

  And the worst part?

  I had to pretend like I was the one who wanted it to be that way. Like I was the one who was determined to make her wait.

  Anyone else in my position would’ve thought I was a damn fool. And maybe they would’ve been right.

  I opened my eyes again, ready to fight back the urge to reach out and stroke her soft cheek as she slept. But she wasn’t there.

  Now fully awake, I sat upright in bed, ready to throw my clothes on and go to her, to make sure she was okay—and to make sure she was still there with me.

  My stomach rumbled, and that’s when I smelled it. Bacon and eggs and probably toast and I didn’t even know what else, and then I smiled.

  That woman could cook better than anyone I’d ever met. And even though I’d told her over and over again that she didn’t need to cook for me, I was really glad that she’d ignored that particular protest.

  Because damn.

  She would’ve been absolutely perfect if she had simply laid around in bed all day looking amazing. But the fact that she did so much else? That she was fiercely independent but also had a nurturing side that just wouldn’t quit?

  Yeah, that did it for me. Every single time.

  “Good morning,” she said, appearing in the doorway as if she’d been summoned by my thoughts. “I was wondering when you might wake up.”

  I grinned and rubbed my eyes, wondering if I still might be dreaming or if she really did look that damn good.

  “Something smells amazing,” I said, my voice still rough and gravelly from sleeping. Or lack of sleeping, maybe. “And good morning, Bella.”

  “That something would be breakfast.” She crossed the room to open the curtains, turning the annoying little sliver of sunlight that I’d been dodging all morning into a flood of bright light that would guarantee I got out of bed. “And it’s almost ready, so come out and eat, unless you like cold eggs and bacon.”

  Before I could answer, her phone started ringing from the other room and she disappeared from the doorway just as quickly as she’d shown up a few moments before.

  With a heavy sigh, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and pulled on the pair of pants that I’d left on the floor the night before. I could hear her voice rising by the time I got to the door, and even though I couldn’t make out the words she was saying, her tone told me everything I needed to know.

  She was upset and afraid.

  “Bella?” I called to her from across the condo, moving as quickly as I could from the bedroom to the kitchen.

  I came around the corner at the same time she did, and then she was in my arms, her body heaving as she sobbed into my chest.

  For a minute that seemed to stretch out forever, I simply held her, letting her cry, letting her beat her small, delicate fists against my chest in muted anger. Seeing her like that was killing me, though, and when I couldn’t take it anymore I put my hands on her shoulders and pulled away just far enough to see her tear-streaked face.

  “Bella, babe,” I moved my hand up next to her face and used my thumb to wipe away a fresh tear that had started rolling down her cheek. “What’s wrong? Talk to me, please.”

  “It’s my dad…” Her voice broke on the last word as she tried to catch her breath, but a new wave of tears spilled over and she could only shake her head for a few more seconds as she tried to regain her composure enough to speak. “He’s in the hospital, Angel. They said it was a heart attack.”

  The pain and guilt that shot through my gut felt as though someone had stabbed me. I’d kept her here like a bird in a cage, when she could’ve—should’ve—been home, taking care of her father.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, pulling her close again. “I didn’t know he was…”

  My voice trailed off, and I wasn’t sure what I would’ve said anyway. And whatever might have come out of my mouth wouldn’t have been enough. It wouldn’t have mattered. There was no excuse I could’ve come up with that would’ve made things right.

  But there was one thing I could do.

  “Get dressed,” I said. “Let me take you to him. I owe it to you.” I swallowed hard, then added, “To both of you.”

  She looked up at me and nodded, and even though I could barely hear the hoarse whisper that came from her throat, the words she mouthed rang out in my head as if she’d spoken them directly into my brain.

  “Thank you.”

  Kimbella

  The morning had been a complete blur. From the moment I got the phone call telling me about my dad to the fast and frantic drive to the hospital to the frustratingly long wait while he was in surgery, there had only been one thought running non-stop through my mind.

  Please, God, let him be okay. Please don’t take him from me. He’s all I have left.

  Angel had been… well, an Angel. He’d driven me there, walked me into the waiting room, and then hadn’t left my side until the doctor had finally come out to tell me my dad had made it through the surgery and was in the recovery room.

  Angel had left then, knowing—just like he always seemed to—that I needed the time alone with my dad. It had been just another one of the tiny little favors he’d done for me over the past few weeks, and just like with the other things—giving me a safe space, a quiet place to study, not asking for anything I didn’t want to give, driving me to the hospital, and now, leaving before I could even ask—he hadn�
��t asked for or expected anything in return.

  I’d be eternally grateful for all of those things, but I didn’t even know how to begin to thank him.

  Most of all, I was thankful for what he’d said right before he left.

  “You’re free to go, my Bella. Not just for right now, but later, when you leave here. You need to be home, where your dad is. Where your heart is.”

  And now, as I held my dad’s warm but nearly lifeless hand and watched the slow rise and fall of his chest as the machines he was hooked up to beeped and flashed, I could feel the tears start to fall again.

  After my mom died, I swore I’d never take for granted how quickly life could change, or how everything I knew and loved could be taken away in the blink of an eye.

  But here I was, regretting that I hadn’t been with my dad when he’d needed me, knowing just how close I’d come to never seeing him again.

  “You should go get some rest.” The sweet, quiet voice behind me made me jump and I quickly wiped my face with the back of my hand as I turned to see one of the nurses I’d spoken with earlier standing in the doorway.

  “No,” I said, flatly. “I need to stay. I need to be here when he wakes up.”

  She nodded and smiled, her eyes full of sympathy. “It might be hours before he wakes up, sweetie. And even then, he might only be awake for a few minutes at a time. He’s going to be on some pretty powerful pain medication.”

  “I understand,” I said, looking down and gently squeezing my dad’s hand. “But I’m not going anywhere until he wakes up.”

  She sighed lightly but thankfully didn’t argue. “I’ll bring you a chair, then. You can stay with him here in recovery until we have a room ready for him, and then you can go with him there.”

  “Thank you,” I said, blinking hard to keep the fresh round of tears from spilling over. “I appreciate that.”

  I turned my attention back to my dad and forced a smile onto my face. When he did finally wake up, I wanted him to see me happy, and that meant I’d need to get it together.