Chapter 44

Richie's lips felt raw and his dick was about ready to pound through his jeans and hers. He knew with a few more well placed touches, and a kiss or two he could get her out of the distracting cutoffs and under him, but he held off. He'd hurt her and she wanted to take things slow.

He'd respect that, even if it killed him.

He dipped in again, letting his lips brush against hers again and again until she arched up against him. He'd pressed his back into the leg rest of the couch, hoping the uncomfortable position would keep him from doing stupid, but he just kept coming up with inventive ways to get her legs wrapped around him. "God, Elena," he groaned against her mouth as her tongue slipped out to tangle with his.

She tightened her hold on him, her body already burning past point of no return. "God, Richie…please." She knew she should be stopping this. Hell she should be sending him off to London hard and waiting, it would do him good too see he couldn't make her stupid again, but as his hands slid over her body and his lips made her brain short circuit all she managed to do was writhe against him and make begging whimpers.

Torn between what he should do and what his body wanted he hissed as her hips rolled against him. His fingers gripped her waist, coasting over her naked back to her shoulders. The halter top was going to kill him.

He urged her closer until her breasts were pressed flat against him. The twin points of her nipples burned through her shirt and his. He dipped his head and nipped at the strap there at her neck tie. Just one tug…that’s all he’d need to do to get those beautiful breasts against him. "Stop me now, baby or you're getting a very thorough going away present."

Her eyes fluttered open and looked straight into his. "Don't want to stop.” Her teeth scraped over her lower lip as she dumped her earlier celibacy ideas. It wasn’t worth the lesson, not when it was hurting her more. Damn if she didn't ache for him in ways she'd never before imagined aching.“Changed my mind,” she gasped, “woman's prerogative." Her nails scraped over his chest and down cupping his obvious desire as she breathed out on a sigh. When she felt him pause, she gave a frustrated growl. "Please, Richie."

His hips lifted and his thighs bulged beneath her as he stood and pressed her into the couch. His long fingers pushed past the scrap of lace she called underwear and the frayed edges of her shorts until her heat surrounded him. He groaned, two fingers delving into her as her juices poured around his knuckles.

She gripped his shoulders, her eyes closing as lost herself in the moment, in the all consuming fog of passion and lust that he managed to inspire with the simplest of touches. Jesus, what was it about this guy that had her running so hot with him around and so cold when he was gone? His delighted laugh had her opening her eyes a fraction as she tried to think, tried once again to make her body obey her brain only to have the oh too good feeling reinforced. Screw celibacy, screw the lessons, he was above her and she was burning with need.

He leaned back and ripped at her buttons, his laugh was low and full of heat as the quick musical tinkle of button fly jeans ripped through the air. He flicked the shorts and purple lace over his shoulder. Shouldering his way in, he hooked her knees over him before he felt her heat on his face just before he tasted her.

Her hips bucked upwards as her hands twisted into his hair, a soft mewling cry escaping her. "God!” Her mind went blank as he finally touched her just where she needed him. “Yes, Richie!"

He widened his tongue and lapped at the excitement that a mere kiss could bring from her. Finding the heart of her, he licked, pressed, sucked and reminded her just who belonged there and who would never leave again. And when she tried to arch away from the pleasure they were together he held fast and reminded her again.

She arched against his lips, her soft moans turning into guttural cries as she crested the ridge of desire and began to fall, her fingers spasming in his hair. She was on fire, a fire only he could quench, but instead of the fire flickering out it simply rose higher. She was going to combust, she fucking knew it and she no longer cared, as long as those talented lips kept doing what they were doing.

Part of him wanted to see just how far he could push her…just how many times he could feel her shatter beneath his touch. But the other half of him needed her around him. He couldn’t wait. He nosed his way up her tummy, flicking his tongue around the tiny jewel in her belly button to the slope of her ribs as he pushed her shirt higher. His fingers still worked her within and around the frenzy of release.

He wanted to let her go, to watch her fly, but held off. He wanted to be inside her more. He wanted the vice hard clench of every part of her around him. He scraped his teeth over her nipple, sucking hard. "I want to be inside you when you come," he whispered.

She arched against him, her mind incapable of rational thought or action. She needed him, it was as simple and a pure as that. He filled some deep dark ache that she'd always felt inside, but now that darkness was gone, consumed by the fire of his touch. "It’s where I want you Richie," her voice whispered out in a half moan half sigh, "so badly."

If any part of him had been able to stop before, it was simply lost to the burn as she said his name in that broken whisper. He flicked open his belt and sunk into her slowly, knowing that this moment would be the only softness he could manage.

She bowed up against him, the urgent need to feel him deep within pushing her higher. Nails slid up his sides to rake along his spine as she tilted her head to take one firmly pebbled nibble in her lips. Her teeth grazing over it gently before her tongue laved the tiny pain away.

The rational part of him faded. It felt like it had been a lifetime since he’d beein inside her instead of just a few short weeks. He buried himself deeper and prayed that when he surfaced again there would still be enough of him left to be poured onto the plane. Hips pistoned and his thighs burned as he pushed inside of her again and again. The pulse of her heartbeat echoed in his brain as he simply lost himself inside of her.

She held tight to him as her legs wrapped themselves tightly around his waist, his movements urging her higher and higher. Her body responded to each thrust with one of its own. Thought was beyond her. Reaching up with one slender hand, she pulled his head down her lips. Her tongue flicked out to connect even there. She managed one simple request, as their sweat slicked bodies crashed together. "Harder Richie.” Their eyes locked, “higher," she cried out.

The red haze parted for a moment as he looked down at her. Sweat sheened off her sun-kissed skin, her spine curved so every part of them touched. As she reached for him, he grasped her thigh and pulled it high on his hip as he plunged deeper, harder and cried out when her entire body tightened around him. The orgasm was blinding and soul bleeding.

A surprised scream ripped from her throat as she locked around him, her mind shattering into the abyss of passion. Raging shivers and goose bumps raced over her heated flesh as she kept her self wrapped around him, her eyes glazed over by the intensity only he could cause. With a tremulous smile against his chest she managed a soft, "Fuck."

And unbelievably he laughed, burying his face into her neck as his body felt like it had been turned inside out, "Elena, how am I going to make it ten days without you?"

She looked up at him, soft brown eyes dazed in passion, "Was thinking the same thing myself...." and there she paused, unsure of what to call him. Pet names were for those in love, for those who connected, and although he'd come back, he'd never actually said it was more than just the physical he wanted. Clearing her throat she managed a bright smile. "Maybe you can help me understand that Richie."

And there, his heart fisted. Richie, not Pony. He didn’t quite have all of her, even now…even after—after whatever it was that happened when they touched.
Richie.

Not Handsome or any other of the reams of names she called him. Even after a connection like that she still was holding a piece of herself back. He pressed a kiss to her sweaty brow and curled into the corner of the couch with her on his lap.

She snuggled closer to him, each part of her body pressing tightly to his as her hands continued to roam over any part of him available. A soft smile curved her beautiful mouth. Even her eyes sparkled as she leaned in to kiss him gently. Maybe he was overreacting.

Lingering on her mouth, he let himself drift on the pleasure of her in his arms. Words cart-wheeled in his mind, but nothing he could say would build on the moment. Instead he sighed into her hair. "Countdown commences here and now. Nine days and twenty-three hours until I make it back home to you."

His soft words jolted her slightly. He’d called her home? He truly considered returning to her, home? Maybe he didn't regret what just happened; maybe her internal fear was off base. Laying her head on his chest, her hand absently rubbed the soft patch of fur there. "You don’t regret what just happened, right?"

He sat up. "What?" He turned her until they could meet eye to eye. "I didn't come all this way to just get laid, Elena. If that's all I wanted I could get that anywhere." He knew the words were harsh, but maybe they needed to be if she thought that's all it was. "I want you, and only you."

"Then why'd you get so quiet all of a sudden, hmm?" She studied him intently, the sudden darkening of his eyes, the stiffness of his posture and wondered exactly what was going on his that pretty head of his.

Her soft smile took the edge off her words. His brows lowered and he crossed his arms over his chest. "It wasn't any reason, just thinking."

She shook her head, sighing. "Last time you were just thinking we ended up spending two weeks trying to kill ourselves. Talk to me please?"

He cupped her face. "I have no regrets.” He pressed a soft kiss to her upturned mouth. “And if I didn't know Jon was going to come out that door any minute I'd have you under me again."

She watched him quietly as he sat there, lost in whatever thought had him twisted in knots. "Richie, that’s not an answer to my question."

Suddenly angry, he snapped, "Don't call me that."

She looked at him wide-eyed. "But, it’s your name. What do you want me to call you?" Good God, what DO you wanna be called then? You hated Pony, rolled your eyes at my flirty names, and now your mad about that?

"Handsome, tall dark and name an adjective, for fuck's sake....Pony!" he shouted as he dumped her off his lap and grabbed his jeans and yanked them on.

She laughed softly. "I thought you hated that."

He left his jeans unsnapped and half zipped as he stared down at her, a crimson wash crawling up his chest and neck. "Yeah well, it's not so bad," he mumbled.

She stood and slid her naked body up along his back. Her arms wrapped around his chest, sliding down to play with his half unzipped tab. Lowering her voice a notch she softly said, "Pony.” His body stilled. She brushed her lips over his spine. "Not done with you yet, Pony."

He closed his eyes for a moment before he turned around, immeasurably pleased for the silly nickname to have returned. "You know I do have to play the guitar for a living. My brains are going to melt out my ears if we do that again so soon."

Her tongue found her favorite salt lick between his pecs. "Gonna make me beg, Handsome?"

He lifted her and headed for the bathroom as he held her with one arm under her butt. He kicked the door closed, shifted her enough so his jeans pooled at his feet before he turned on the taps. Stepping into the shower stall without putting her down, he let the water adjust before he turned her around and pressed her against the cool tile. He pressed his rock hard erection against the cleft of her ass and leaned in. "Now I want you to beg," he said softly.

She shivered as she encountered cool tiles. "Please, Tiger…Growl for me."

He nudged her knees apart and slowly pushed himself inside of her until he really did growl and she answered with a moan of her own. Pulling back he watched the water sluice down her back and pour around the length of his cock as he disappeared inside of her.

She pushed back against him, her hands bracing on the wall as her body heated up from both shower and man. Whimpers faded into full throated moans with each movement until her mind was as foggy as the room.

Her body shook with the force of all he was. Moans tripped over each other, her mind a whirl of passion. Recognizing she was the instrument that he played desire’s tune upon, she pushed back on him. "Richie,” her breath shuddered. “Pony,” she gasped. “Fuck!” Her brain spun out and shattered. “God, yes."

All of it bucked him over the edge as he drowned in her. And when he became aware of his surroundings once more her scent was imprinted on him both in the bath and by her touch. His fingers slid from her and his hand coasted up her belly to rest at her waist, holding her close. "Nine days, twenty-two hours and forty minutes," he laughed into her ear.

She giggled as she stood there beneath the heated spray, knowing that were he not holding her up, she'd be sprawled on the floor of the stall. Her knees really were that much like jelly. "Seems like forever." She tilted her head. "Think my Pony could well…do what he does so well and carry me to bed?” She grinned. “I think I forgot how to walk."

Turning her around he angled her toward the dial. "Off," he murmured between kisses.

She reached out a shaky arm and swiftly turned the water off then straightened. "God, I'm gonna miss you."

"Shhh," he hushed against her mouth. "I'll be back in a flash," he said and snatched a towel off the hook outside the stall. Wrapping her up, he quickly cinched one of the smaller towels at his waist before he hefted her into his arms and weaved into the living room. "Where?"

"Bed." She nuzzled his neck as he walked. "Then I can just dream about you, because you've nearly worn me out.” At his smirk she grinned. “I said, nearly."

Groaning he headed for her small bedroom and settled her into the sheets. He wanted to follow her there, wanted to drop into the sweet oblivion that his body craved after that much sex. He blinked against the fatigue and tugged up her covers until the only thing showing was her pretty shoulders.

She turned, and pulled the pillow he’d slept on until his scent was there, curling around her mind, a sleepy satisfied smile on her lips. "Hurry home."

He pressed a kiss to her lips, then stepped back before he couldn't. "Nine days twenty-two hours and some change." he whispered.

She smiled sweetly, her eyes too heavy to open. "I'll be keeping track, Pony."