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Austen shrugs before scooping another bite of oatmeal. “Probably the latter is best. What are you comfortable with PDA wise? Should we kiss or hold hands? I’m not sure the level of escalation this should take as a first outing.”
My jaw drops right as Tenn cackles.
“On that note, I’m out. I’m going to the co-working site today to get a few projects done. You two discuss your PDA stuff without me.” He leaves the room without another word.
When it’s just me and Austen left, I focus on his expression to see if I can read him. I need to know what he’s thinking about this before I give an answer.
“We’ll only do what you’re comfortable with. I don’t want to push you. I know you’re not really into…” I let my voice trail off since I don’t want to offend him. I don’t know what he’s into period. Like at all. It’s a mystery to me at this point.
He doesn’t answer at first. It’s not until he finishes his food that he turns to me.
“I welcome whatever you feel is best. While I may not be all that familiar with relationships in general the way you are, I have kissed others. They were women, and it was unpleasant, but I doubt you’ll be the same. I know you won’t let it be.”
It’s the highest praise he could give me, albeit strangely worded.
“You’ve kissed someone before?” I ask for clarification.
He nods. “Yes. Two girls. Both when I was younger, and it was nothing to write home about.”
Tennyson comes out of the bedroom at that moment, then waves before disappearing out the front door. I let it click shut, answering his original statement with caution.
“If we do this, you have to tell me when you’re uncomfortable. Most relationships do involve some level of PDA. Since we’re so unbalanced in size,” I motion between us, “holding hands wouldn’t really work. Typically, you’d probably wrap your arm around me or something instead.”
He nods slowly, taking in each word like I’m giving a class lecture.
“And kissing?”
“You could lead. I’m comfortable with whatever you want to try. Today could just be the closeness and maybe next time we —"
My words cut off when he abruptly stands from the table. He moves around to my side, his large body hovering over mine like the giant he is.
“Stand up, Corrin,” he says calmly.
I do as he requests without a single second of hesitation. Even if I wanted to rebel, I couldn’t. It’s as if my body is linked to his commands.
The second I’m standing; his hands move up to cup my face. He holds me like we’ve done this a thousand times, like we’re real lovers and we’re having a normal couple-y morning together.
Then he kisses me.
It’s soft at first, his lips a gentle press against mine.
In the seconds it takes my brain to register that holy fuck I’m kissing Austen; he’s changing it up. Gone is the softness. In its place, his tongue glides across my lips, demanding entry. I open as easily as I followed his previous demand to stand.
How does he know how to do this?
How?
It’s unreal.
There’s nothing he could ask of me that I wouldn’t give him right now. Nothing at all.
Our tongues dance to their own rhythm as our bodies press closer together. I can feel myself getting hard as the seconds continue, which seems to be the only thing strong enough to stop the waves of pleasure I’m coasting on.
I yank back quickly, my hips angled awkwardly to ensure he can’t feel how hard he’s made me.
“You sure it was only two? That kiss…”
Austen doesn’t answer me at first. My gaze, which had been firmly planted on his chest, roams up to meet him eye to eye.
