Wren cried silently, then. She held onto Stone and felt his shirt growing damp beneath her cheek. When she was finally able to stop the flood, she was wrung out and limp.
“I don’t think I can move,” she mumbled.
“So don’t. Let’s just stay here, like this.” He sounded sleepy himself. “Will you get in trouble if I stay here with you?”
Wren managed a shrug. “Class…in the morning. Nine.”
“No problem.”
Stone helped her into bed and she drifted, slept without dreams. At some point, she felt Stone kick the blankets from underneath their bodies and pull them up, and she burrowed closer against him.
She woke up in the dim gray pre-dawn with Stone spooned against her. She felt lighter, cleaner, rested. Not totally okay, but better. And Stone was there with her, holding her. His palm was flat on her belly, just beneath her breasts. She felt something hard against her spine, and she felt her heart lurch and her body tighten at the knowledge of what it was. She placed her hand on his, threaded her fingers through hers, and listened to him breathe, wondering how to classify her relationship with Stone. Were they together? Would he make love to her? Would he bring her to his place and show her more of who he was, tell her more about himself, share his life with her?
“You’re thinking too hard, babe,” he mumbled.
“You and me…what are we?”
Stone shifted his hips, stretching, then seemed to realize that he was pressing himself against her and pulled away. “Sorry, I—”
Wren wriggled against him. “Don’t be sorry. I didn’t mind.”
“What are we?” Stone’s fingers flexed against her belly, then slid upward, just slightly, brushing the underside of her breasts. “We’re us. We’re together. If that’s what you want, that is.”
“Of course I do.” She moved his hand higher, cupping her breast with. “I want this.”
“Wren…” he groaned, clutching her gently, moving his hand so his palm scraped over her nipple. “What about your roommate? I’m not sure a dorm room is the best place, or that now is the best time. But I want it too.”
“My roommate is never here. Her boyfriend has an apartment, and she’s there pretty much all the time. She only comes here to study sometimes in the afternoon between classes.” She shifted her body, pressing her ass up his hardness. “Stone…please.”
He writhed with her, groaning and breathing against her bare shoulder. “I want it to be right. To be perfect. I want to go on a date with you. Take you home to my place and take all night with you. I don’t want to be rushed, or have to worry about being interrupted.”
“I feel like I’m going to explode,” Wren said, breathless. “Like everything is…on fire inside me. Building up and ready to go off. Crying last night helped, but I need this with you too. I don’t want to wait. I can’t wait.” She moved rhythmically against him, sliding her lace-clad backside against the rough fabric of his jeans.
Stone massaged her breast, even as he protested. His fingers twisted her nipple, gently pinched it, then his whole hand engulfed the weight of her breast. His hips moved with hers, and his lips pressed helpless kisses to her shoulder. Each time his lips touched her skin, Wren shivered, gasped. She took his hand again and guided it down, down, between her legs.
“Just touch me. Give me something.” She slid his fingers under the elastic of her panties.
Stone kissed her neck, under one ear, then her jaw. He took long, slow, deep breaths, growling slightly on the outbreath. He traced circles on her inner thigh, then pushed his fingers between her legs, found her entrance and slid his touch inside her, then stopped. “What about—”
She put her hand over his. “I’m fine,” she assured him. “I promise. Totally fine. I won’t be fine if you stop, though.”
“You make it hard to do the right thing,” Stone said, stroking her with gentle, probing fingers.
“The right thing is us. The right thing is to be with me, to make me happy. This makes me happy.” She tilted her head back against his shoulder, turned her face to kiss his jaw. “We’ll do all that. We’ll have romantic dates and we’ll make love by candlelight or moonlight or whatever, wherever. But nothing about us is normal. And I need this with you, right now. Make me feel good.”
“Wren…Jesus help me. I can’t resist you.”
“Don’t. If we’re together, then why do you have to resist me?” She twisted in his arms. “Everything we went through together…what did it all mean if you’re back to trying to stick to some preconceived notion of the right thing, regardless of what I want? Just be with me, take me. Don’t make me beg you. Show me you want me as much as I want you.”
“God, do I want you.” Stone brushed her flyaway, tangled black hair to either side of her face. “I just—you deserve more than rushed, desperate moments. You deserve time and attention and perfection.”
Wren slipped out of bed, locked the door, and then stood in front of Stone, staring down at him. “Then give that to me. Nothing else matters to me, right now.” She pushed her underwear down and stepped out of them, crawled over the bed and lay down on her back beside him. “Just this matters.”
Stone’s eyes raked over her, and then she watched as the last vestige of hesitation fled from his features. He rolled to his side, leaning on one elbow, and kissed her lips. Tentatively at first, slow and tasting. Wren pulled at his neck, lifted up to deepen the kiss. She peeled his shirt up over his abs, and he shifted to let her tug it away, and then he dipped in to kiss her once more. Aggression tinged this kiss, finally. She moaned in relief as he began to devour her lips, and his hand scoured her ribs, drifted up over her breasts and nudged her erect nipples with his thumb, one and then the other.
His tongue slid between her lips and touched her teeth, found her tongue.
Now her hands explored, traced the lines of his abdominal muscles, the scars of his still-healing gunshot wounds on his side and thigh. This all felt so familiar, yet not. That one night in the hotel in Manila seemed like a distant dream, with so many nightmares rampaging between that one sweet night and this morning. She found the button of his jeans, and slipped the cold circle of metal through the loop. The engorged hardness of his manhood spread the zipper apart, and she lowered it the rest of the way, then slid her fingers around the waist of his pants, pushing them down. He lifted hips, and she pushed the denim over his knees, and they used their toes together to shed them the rest of the way, kicking them off the bed from beneath the blankets. Now, only a thin barrier of cotton separated Wren from what she wanted. She made short work of his underwear, and now he was naked with her.
Sunlight streamed through the fourth floor window, showing a blue, cloud-free sky. Warmth suffused Wren as Stone’s hand roamed her body, sliding over her hips, down to her knees, over her thighs and up between her legs, which she spread apart for him, welcoming his touch eagerly.
She shrugged the blankets away, letting them fall to their hips, and then pushed them down farther, baring Stone’s huge, rigid cock to the air. She marveled at it, then wriggled, remembering how it had felt inside her. She wrapped her hands around him, squeezed gently, then slid her palms up and down his length.
“I love how your hands feel on me. You touching me like that…it makes me crazy. Like I’m drunk on how amazing you make me feel.” Stone’s voice was pitched low, a rumble in the space between gasps.
Wren didn’t know what to say to that. All she knew to do was kiss him and keep touching him, rub her thumb over his tip and spread the moisture that leaked all over him, twist her hand around him as she plunged her fist down. He groaned, and she did it again, this time tasting his moan, devouring the sound of his pleasure with her mouth over his.