Nata

"No." I wrinkle my nose. "I'm jealous. I was a fountain of insecurities in high school, wishing I could be like some girls in my class."

"Like what?"

"Too pretty not to fall for." The wall behind my back feels like all the walls I stood by as a teen at dances, watching the couples form, make-out, and break-up. "The girls men's gazes lingered on."

"Have you tried to attract their attention? Us, men, we don't need that much encouragement."

I pull my knees up and rest my chin on them. "I tried a couple of times." The longing and anxiety I that filled me in those days resurfaces. "It never worked." The recollections coat me in disappointment in myself, like after an experiment gone wrong. "Maybe I should’ve gone your route and practiced, but I never progressed beyond conversations with my crushes in my head." Conversations that lead to graphic scenes I would've never dared to reenact in real life. I scoff at myself. "My flirting skills never matured."

Phillip sets his head on the wall next to me with a soft thud. "Why didn't you tell me in college? I could've helped."

I roll my eyes. "As if."

"What d'you mean?" I feel his gaze drilling through the side of my head.

If we are baring more than our bodies today, I might as well tell him the truth. Grateful for the darkness, I rattle out, "I flirted with you every chance I got, cursing myself for doing it, because I was your tutor."

I peek to the side at him and catch his eyebrows doing the confused climb up his forehead thing. "It was unethical."

"You flirted with me?" Phillip opens his mouth and closes it several times as he slow-shakes his head. "Are you sure?"

"I didn't doubt anything you told me about yourself, but you are doubting me?"

"No." Phillip narrows his eyes. "I'm usually great at picking up clues, and I don't remember ever thinking you were into me."

"I told you." I wrap my arms around my knees as if I can squeeze the embarrassment out of my chest. This truth-telling business is exhausting. "I'm awful at flirting."

He runs his hand across my back, every inch of his progress sending small heat bombs down my spine. Phillip tugs me into his side. "Were you flirting with me because of my reputation?"

My ear rests on his chest. Too cozy. Too comfortable. I should stop my confession and laugh it off or change the topic of the conversation. Better, I should get up and go home to sleep because I still have to be up at five. I burrow my cheek into Phillip's warm skin and do none of that. "Because I liked you," I say in a semi-whisper.

"I liked you too." Phillip's lips touch my forehead and stretch in a slow grin, like I'm a cute pet. "We were friends."

"I liked you liked you." I shut my eyes and let everything I kept in for years out. "More than friends. I thought that after we graduated, you'd tell me you wanted me and had to struggle to keep your feelings away not to mess up our professional relationship." The flood of long-suppressed fantasies I shoved away years ago come gushing like the water out of a broken dam.

"You wanted to sleep with me then?" He mumbles into my hair.

"Yes."

His thumb rubs circles into my elbow, coaxing every drop of the truth out. "With kissing?"

"Yes," I whisper.

"And now you have changed your mind?"

"Yes." My reality definitely changed. My dreams...

"So I'm fifteen years late?"

The hairs on the back of my neck rise. How can you be late for something that would've never worked? "It wasn't meant to be," I say.

"But what if we would've been a perfect match? Maybe we would've had half-a-dozen kids by now, happily married, living at a suburban estate."

"We wouldn't have." Having the hots for a guy doesn't make him an ideal partner, and I wasn't going to allow myself to fall in the trap of lust. Neither then nor now. I lean away from Phillip and let his hand fall from my back as I tighten the sheet around my chest. "I had a plan. I was moving to Berkley, building a career. You were staying in Chicago for your Booth MBA. Things like that don't happen. It was never more than a fairytale I dreamed up."

"Maybe I would've changed your mind if you would have let me then."

The hot and horny college me had so many dreams about Phillip Van der Heuvel naked in my bed. My imagination was limited then. Now that I've actually had him naked in a bed, pushing him away is harder. "What would you have done to me fifteen years ago?"

"I can show you now if you let me." His hand parts the side of the sheet on my leg and lifts it up. The charge from his fingers on my inner thigh shocks me. My already aroused flesh tingles in anticipation of what his fingers on my clit would do to the unending ache I left myself with over the last two days. What if I do let him touch me the way he wants to? The way I've wanted him to years ago. I squeeze my core to resist this temptation, but I lose the fight.

My knees fall open, providing the access Phillip needs to move his hand farther. The pads of his fingers inch closer to my hip. The shivers across my stomach are full of hope. We've already had sex twice, but what he's offering is so much more. The girl in me who dreamed of Phillip stakes her claim, wanting to experience what sex with Phillip is like if I follow his rules.

"Let's try this." I breathe out.

As if my words were a pistol at the start of a race, he sits up and fumbles with the knot of the sheets on my chest. I nudge him away, craving for his hands back on my skin and untie as quickly as I can. The material slides off, and I'm naked from my bra down. His hand reaches back to me as I intercept it. The cocktail of fears and desire sets my pulse into a frenzy. In the semi-darkness, I catch his gaze. "But you promise to stop if I ask."

"Always." Phillip's voice is raspy.

I let go of him. I don't know what's next, and the lack of control is a much stronger aphrodisiac than I've ever imagined. Phillip straddles me, reversing our roles. My skin is on high alert. I've no clue where he'll touch me next. I'm buzzing with want as my blood rushes from my nipples to my thighs, to my core. His gaze moves from my face down my neck, and to the unsexy bra I defiantly wore to throw him off. I hate the morning me for making this choice, but I forget to hold on to my anger when his head dips, and his tongue traces my collar bone. I still as goosebumps spread in circles over my skin, his lips like an expertly thrown pebble skipping across my neck. The waves of want from those simple caresses reach my center, and I clench again, aching for friction.

He tucks my hair out of the way as he leans forward to continue up to the soft spot behind my ear. I might be in a permanent state of arousal when I'm around him, especially the undressed and—he rocks against me—hard version of him. Feeling how quickly he recovered after we've had sex boosts my desire.

I feel every inch of him as he lays me down on the carpet, his hot breath on my temple, skillful fingers on my butt. I love every stroke and touch. I'm greedy for him. I shouldn't be so eager to have sex again. Yet I am. Eager and wanting and forgetting I must not treat this like this is real. His erection presses against my thigh, and I try to scoot to position it closer to where he can get inside. Phillip holds me in place with both hands on my waist. His lips finally make it to my earlobe.

"No rush." The hushed tone goes straight to my nipples. I arch into him, seeking contact with his chest. He moves away to leave space between us. Phillip pins my thighs in place. "Relax," he whispers gently.

I bite my lip and sag against the floor.

Maybe that's the answer. This isn't real, and I can for once let my imagination out of its cage and follow its lead. His hands massage my hips as he paves a pathway of featherlight kisses, traverses my cheek, over the bridge of my nose, so close to my mouth I'm certain he will disregard my no kissing rule and press his lips to mine. Our gazes fight a silent battle as our breaths combine.

Phillip's lips linger inches away from mine. I want to go back on my request and ask him to kiss me, but before I do, he runs them against my jaw, and I shiver under the warmth. I hold my inhales as he lightly pecks the tip of my nose and moves onto my other earlobe. The whooshing in my head goes from waves to a tsunami when one of his hands leaves my waist and climbs over my bra to pinch my very erect nipple.

The shot of pleasure scrambles my brain, all direction lost. The man must've grown extra hands because he's everywhere: my neck, breasts, my inner thigh, my earlobe, my back. I'm oversensitive in the most trivial places of my body. How can my elbow be an erogenous zone? My skin hums. I hum. I want to catalog every exquisite ache and shiver, but I lose count and forget myself.

"Mmm." I bend my head back when his teeth find my other nipple and nibble on it through the cotton of my bra while his knuckle descends on the same spot that almost took me over the edge our first night together. This time, instead of stopping him, I grind into his hand, adjusting so he's in the exact part of me that's been craving the circular rubbing motion.

Friction.

Finally.

I rock back against his erection and moan into the darkness. For the first time in a long time, if ever, I feel safe. Safe to ask for, "More." My plea comes out in a frazzled whisper.

He increases the pressure and keeps the steady movement. "Here?"

I hum my agreement as the fire burns in my clit, growing with every circle of his knuckle. I lean my forehead on his shoulder and lift my hips as he moves. He pushes up the soft cups of my bra and latches onto my exposed nipple in a sucking motion. The sparkling craving Phillip creates in my breasts collides with the electricity radiating from my core. I'm so close. I clench around the emptiness, longing for his fingers there as well and croak in disappointment.

"Tell me want you want." His voice rumbles again my chest.

Speaking my secret desires has never been an option before. But I'm at ninety-eight percent to an orgasm and I don't want to stop. I take his hand that's been holding my bra up and place it at my entrance.

"My fingers inside?"

I nod against his shoulder, as he inserts one, then two fingers while continuing the motions of his knuckle and returns to sucking my nipple.

I writhe and use every thrust of my hips to satisfy the yearning inside me.

I stop thinking.

I float, chasing the orgasm that's so close I abandon all reservations. The tide of pleasure comes closer, hits my core, and radiates from there across my stomach and into my throat, pushing the air out in a jagged breath. "Fuu—" I clench around his fingers and squeeze my eyes. Like the most delicious tremor, my orgasm continues as his mouth keeps sucking, wringing every drop of ecstasy out of me.

"Good girl." Phillip smirks.

His praise wraps me like a comforting hug. I smile.

"Nata." The way he says my name with almost reverence, urges me to move my legs apart.

I feel safe to tell me what I want. "I need you inside me."

The slight narrowing of his eye betrays his desire to do just that. "Not yet. Let me make you—"

"No." I dig my fingers into his shoulder blades. "Inside me. Now."

"Your wish is my command." Phillip glides his gaze over my body spread on the floor in the moonlight. "Fuck." He slides inside me in one fluid thrust, filling me better than his fingers. This time I let him control the angle and the speed with which he pulls out and slams back in. I feel every inch, every push, every breath. His pumps ramp me back up too fast. I'm pure ache and want again. My desire takes over. I want it all. Screw the consequences.

I wrap my legs around his waist, taking everything and demanding more. My body is free from the supervision of my brain. I bow and bend and make sounds. It's getting harder to breathe, but breathing it overrated. Phillip's hips meet mine over and over. When his thumb returns to my clit, I ride the rollercoaster of another orgasm. The glow of my pleasure is so bright I could illuminate his bedroom. Coming this much cannot be possible, yet my body does the impossible.

Maybe because this is not reality.

This is a dream, and I don't want to wake up.

6.4.23

Author's Note

What do you guys think or this sex scene vs the first two? (you don't want to know how long it took me to write it😱) 

What are looking forward to in Nata and Phillip's story?

I've been at a book convention this week-end and ran into a couple Wattpad writers as well as got to know readers I've never met before. I'm exhausted but my well is refilled.

Thank you so much for reading my stories week after week. I appreciate having you as my readers.

Remember to vote (star button) and comment. I love hearing about your reactions and see you move from chapter to chapter. The notifications that come to me about your comments aren't always reliable, so if I miss answering to your comment, I'm sorry. I try to open each chapter and read through the comments in addition to checking the notifications.

Welcome to June!

Love,

GR