A Florist's Heart

Chapter 6

The room was thick with the scent of wine and the musk of their arousal, the air heavy with the sound of their ragged breaths. The bed beneath them creaked softly as Theodore shifted, his body hovering over Amelia’s, his gaze locked onto hers with an intensity that made her pulse race. His lips had found her breasts again, his tongue swirling around one taut n****e before flicking over it with a teasing slowness that sent jolts of pleasure straight to her core. Amelia gasped, her back arching off the mattress as his tongue twirled and lapped, his hot breath fanning over her skin. The sensation was almost too much—each flick, each gentle suck, sent waves of heat pooling low in her belly, her body responding in ways she hadn’t known were possible.

His other hand found her neglected breast, his fingers rolling her n****e between them, pinching just enough to make her jolt beneath him. A soft, needy moan escaped her lips, her fingers tangling in the sheets as she tried to ground herself. This was new for her—all of it. She had imagined her first time like this would be with someone she was bound to, someone she would marry. But Nathaniel was a ghost now, a memory that had left her hollow and aching. Tonight, with Theodore, was different. It wasn’t about promises or forever. It was about this moment, this hunger, this desperate need to feel something other than the pain of what she’d lost.

And Theodore was more than willing to give her that.

His mouth was relentless, his tongue tracing circles around her n****e before he drew it between his lips, sucking gently, then harder, until she was writhing beneath him. Amelia let out another moan, her body trembling as he bit down lightly, the sharp edge of pleasure-pain making her gasp. His fingers continued their assault on her other breast, pinching and rolling, his touch firm but never cruel. He knew exactly how to play her, how to draw out every whimper, every shuddering breath.

Amelia’s hands found his hair once more, her fingers gripping the dark strands as she pulled him closer, her body arching into his touch. She could feel the hard length of him pressed against her thigh, the evidence of his desire sending a thrill through her. She had never felt so wanted, so alive.

Theodore’s free hand slid down her body, his fingers tracing the curve of her waist, the flare of her hip, before finally settling between her thighs. He didn’t rush. He took his time, his touch feather-light as he teased the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, inching closer to where she ached for him. Amelia’s breath hitched as his fingers brushed against her, her body tensing in anticipation. She was soaked, her desire slick and hot, and the way Theodore groaned against her skin when he realized it made her blush.

"You’re so wet for me, Amelia," he murmured, his voice rough with need. His fingers slid through her folds, parting her gently, his touch exploring her with a slow, deliberate precision. "So ready."

Amelia couldn’t form words. She could only moan, her hips lifting instinctively as his fingers found her c**t, circling it with a maddening slowness. Her body was on fire, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. She had never been touched like this before, never been worshipped like this. Theodore’s mouth never left her breasts, his tongue and teeth working in tandem to drive her wild, while his fingers continued their torturous teasing.

"Please," she gasped, her voice barely more than a whisper. She didn’t even know what she was begging for—just that she needed more.

Theodore didn’t make her wait. His fingers slid lower, one thick digit pressing inside her with a slow, deliberate thrust. Amelia cried out, her body clenching around him as he filled her, stretching her just enough to make her whimper. His thumb found her c**t again, rubbing in slow, tight circles as his finger moved inside her, curling just so to hit that spot that made her see stars.

"You feel so good," he growled against her skin, his voice vibrating through her. "So tight. So perfect."

Amelia’s breath came in short, desperate gasps as he added a second finger, his pace still maddeningly slow. She could feel the pressure building inside her, coiling tighter and tighter with each thrust of his fingers, each flick of his thumb. Her hands clenched in his hair, her nails scraping against his scalp as she tried to hold on, to keep from shattering too soon.

But Theodore wasn’t done with her. Not yet.

His mouth left her breasts, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down her stomach, his tongue dipping into the hollow of her navel before moving lower. Amelia’s eyes flew open as she realized his intent, her breath catching in her throat. "Theodore—"

He didn’t let her finish. His fingers slipped free of her, and before she could protest, his mouth was on her, his tongue replacing his fingers as he tasted her for the first time. Amelia’s back arched off the bed, a broken cry tearing from her lips as his tongue swirled over her c**t, his hands gripping her thighs to hold her still. The sensation was overwhelming—his mouth hot and wet, his tongue relentless as it lapped and sucked, drawing out moans she didn’t even recognize as her own.

Amelia’s hands flew to his shoulders, her fingers digging into his skin as she tried to anchor herself. Theodore’s tongue moved with expert precision, his lips sealing around her c**t as he sucked gently, his fingers sliding back inside her, crooking just right to make her tremble. She could feel the orgasm building, a wave crashing over her, threatening to drag her under.

"Theodore, I—I can’t—" she gasped, her voice breaking.

"Yes, you can," he murmured against her, his breath hot and teasing. "Let go, Amelia. I’ve got you."

And with that, she shattered.

Her orgasm crashed over her like a storm, her body convulsing as waves of pleasure ripped through her. Theodore didn’t stop, his mouth and fingers working in tandem to draw out every last shudder, every gasp, until she was boneless beneath him, her body spent and trembling.

Only then did he finally move, his body covering hers as he kissed her deeply, letting her taste herself on his lips. Amelia wrapped her arms around him, her body still humming with the aftershocks of her release. She could feel him, hard and ready, pressing against her, and she knew she wanted more. She wanted all of him.

Theodore’s hands framed her face, his forehead resting against hers as he gazed down at her, his eyes dark with desire. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

Amelia nodded, her breath still ragged. "Yes," she whispered. "I want you. Now."

Theodore didn’t need to be told twice. He shifted between her thighs, the head of his c**k pressing against her entrance. Amelia’s breath hitched as he pushed inside, her body stretching to accommodate him. He went slow, giving her time to adjust, his eyes never leaving hers as he filled her inch by inch.

"You feel amazing," he groaned, his voice tight with restraint. "So tight. So perfect."

Theodore would hover above Amelia, his muscles taut with restraint, his gaze locked onto hers as if he were memorizing every flicker of emotion in her eyes. He had waited for this moment for so long—longer than he cared to admit—and now that she was beneath him, her body soft and yielding, he wasn’t about to rush it. This wasn’t just about pleasure. It was about claiming her, about making her his in a way that went beyond the physical. He wanted her to feel it in every kiss, every touch, every whispered word.

Amelia’s legs wrapped around his waist, her heels digging into the backs of his thighs as she pulled him closer, her body arching to meet his. Theodore began to move, but not with the frantic urgency of a man seeking release. No, his thrusts were slow, deliberate, each one a promise. He buried himself deep inside her, then withdrew almost completely, leaving her gasping, her body aching for more. He wanted to savor this, to draw out every moan, every shudder, every breathless plea.

His lips found the sensitive skin of her neck, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone, her shoulder, the swell of her breasts. He took his time, his tongue tracing the curve of her n****e before flicking over it lightly, drawing a sharp inhale from her. "You’re mine, Amelia," he murmured against her skin, his voice low and rough with desire. "Say it."

Amelia’s breath hitched, her fingers tangling in his hair as she tried to pull him closer, to urge him deeper. But Theodore resisted, his pace maddeningly slow. "Please," she whispered, her voice trembling with need.