My leg starts to cramp so I relax back, wincing when his plaid pyjama bottoms tighten on his erect member as it slides between my thighs. His answering gasp tells me he definitely felt that too.
Soft fingers trail along my forearm, causing me to shudder. They travel up my bicep before tightly squeezing my shoulder and moving down my ribs. A warm hand comes to rest on my hip and my heart beat skips a few before beating a heavy rhythm in my chest. Everything tingles and I feel goose pimples rise all over my heated flesh.
A flash of pleasure uncurls in my stomach as his hand pulls my hip back into him. My hand clenches tightly around the pillow case near my nose. A whimper escapes me and I hear him let out a breathy moan.
His hips pull back. I know he’s not wearing underwear beneath his pyjamas because I can feel his warm skin move over his solid length beneath the thin cotton. For some reason this causes me to tremble and ache. My eyes squeeze shut as I let his slow movement torture and tease me with something I can never have.
He pushes back between my thighs slowly, exquisitely. A quiet groan escapes him. His chest vibrates against my back and his lips come into contact with the curve of my neck.
Blood boils beneath the surface of my skin. I become overwhelmed with a hot flash of heat that won’t dissipate. Need unfurls in the pit of my stomach and travels the length of my spine as his teeth gently bite at the skin below my ear.
This is so wrong but I can’t stop it. The head of him pushes between my lower lips, forcing the fabric of my pyjama shorts to ride up in the most delicious way. It bumps against my clit. A cry escapes me and Nathan takes this as permission to give me more.
His hand tightens its hold of my hip and his pelvis grinds into me again. We shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be enjoying this but I can’t help it. I’m only human.
Ragged breathing is now against my ear, the sound mingling with my own. The burning follows my blood flow, reaching the end of every limb. I whimper, my hand wrapping around Nathan’s, my hips pushing back to meet his. Oh god.
Can’t breathe.
Lights pop behind my eyes when I hear a hoarse cry rip from his throat. I need more, I’m suffocating with want and pleasure.
Dillan cries and we both tense.
Reality seems to hit us both at the same time.
“I’ve got it,” I blurt and in seconds I’m out of bed and across the hall, my hands trembling, my legs jelly. Scooping Dillan up with a strength I shouldn’t have right now, I quickly change him and give him my breast. The discomfort of it helps me to gather my thoughts.
What the heck is wrong with me?
I’m cuddling Dillan and rocking him for only ten minutes before he’s asleep again. I need to speak to Nathan. We need to stop this. We can’t let this continue. It’s wrong and… it’s just wrong.
Caleb… I touch the picture of his gorgeous face that I hung from the cot mobile only a week ago. His smile makes me feel so damn guilty for whatever it is I’m doing.
The picture turns with the soft tinkling tune that plays as the mobile spins slowly. Tiny beige stuffed animals hang from its wooden points. Like being in a trance, I stare at the slowly moving mobile and lose myself for a moment, imagining what could have been.
Tears fall from my eyes as I think about what I’ve done. I wouldn’t even consider doing this if Caleb were alive. It would be so morally wrong and taboo. Nathan is his brother! This is the kind of stuff you see on the TV happening to other people, reality shows where they have paternity tests to determine the father of the child.
Yet it’s happening to me.
My heart is so confused. My head tells me this is wrong but whenever I’m with Nathan, my heart is conflicted. One part screams for Caleb and the piece he took with him, the other half tells me how much I love being around Nathan, how good he makes me feel. How cherished he makes me feel. How protected.
Sucking in my fear, I bury it deep down and slowly make my way to my room.
Where’s Nathan?
I step back out and notice the door at the end of the hall is open, the one leading to his bedroom. I should leave him alone. Maybe he doesn’t want to sleep with me now. That isn’t a bad thing. We’ve taken this too far.
For some reason I can’t leave him. I start forward, my pulse throbbing with every step, my nerves rising. The last thing I want is to hurt him or to push him away, but he needs to understand that this, whatever this is between us, can’t happen.
I slowly and quietly ascend the stairs. There’s no light coming from beneath his bedroom door.
It’s shut. I should knock but for some strange reason I don’t. Maybe I’m worried I’ll wake him. At least… that’s what I tell myself.
The door opens an inch at a time with the assistance of my hand.
I hear his breathing, his heavy laboured breath. Another noise accompanies it. My head screams at me to look away but I can’t.
Instantly my mouth goes dry as I stare at Nathan’s profile through the crack in the door. He’s standing, one hand leaning on the chest of drawers by his bed, the other… the other is wrapped around his swollen and angry looking length. His blue and white pyjama trousers are still up so I’m assuming he’s only pulled the front down.
Slowly his hand strokes back and forth, a leather glove on it. That’s weird. Maybe he likes the feel of it.
His shoulders tense and his muscles bulge as he continues working himself. It’s an amazing sight, one I shouldn’t be appreciating.
“Damn it,” he whispers, his eyes on something on the desk in front of him. I can’t see what it is; the room is too dark and it’s too far away.
The muscles in his arm tense and flex as he picks up the pace, his hand now working almost furiously on himself. My stomach clenches and I feel myself become slowly wet as I watch the scene before me.
Gulp. He pulls on himself faster and harder. It looks almost painful. So raw, so… desperate.
I lean closer to the door. Big mistake.
My jellified legs buckle slightly as I lean and I catch myself on the door handle, causing it to click.
My heart stops and I begin to shake. Oh crap.
He freezes, his eyes closed, the whites no longer shining in the dim light coming through the open curtains.
I contemplate running but I’d just look like a creeper. Hell, I am a creeper.
Shiny beads of sweat glisten on his forehead like tiny diamonds. I have the urge to wipe them from his brow but I don’t. Instead I stand in the doorway, my mouth parted in silent shock.
He’s going to get angry, I just know it.
“Are you going to just stand there?” His voice is deep and hoarse. I’ve never heard it sound this way before. It caresses me in places like a hand would. “Seeing as you’ve already invaded my privacy, a few more steps won’t hurt.”
Gulp.
He turns, tucking himself back into his pyjamas, forming a tent in the front with his straight and impressive erection.
“I… I’m sorry… I came to…” My thoughts won’t gather, my mouth is too dry, my eyes won’t leave his twitching length. “To talk.”
“Talk?” He smirks in the dark. “What about?”
“About,” something to do with something. “Something.” Face palm. “Downstairs, in bed.”