And even though I am a woman who prioritizes my pleasure as much as a man’s, I murmur, “You don’t have to.”
He freezes, looking up at me from his spot between my legs.
His brow furrowed, and his fingers still inside me, paused mid-motion but deep enough that I struggle to think about anything else, he asks, “Do you not want me to?”
“No, I do—if—if you want to,” I gasp out, feeling myself flush in embarrassment. Why did I say that? Of course he doesn’t have to. But I wanted to make sure, and now I’m worried I’ve ruined it.
I watch as understanding dawns on his face; a smirk that shouldn’t be so damn alluring tugs at his lips and immediately assures me that I have, in fact, ruined nothing.
“Jo, I have been thinking about how pretty your pussy would be for months, and now that it’s in front of me, the reality better than anything I could have dreamed, I want nothing more than to lavish it with the attention it deserves. Now, may I do that?”
Jo. A nickname he’s called me only once before, also when we had sex. And although my feelings are all jumbled up right now, I know that I like it. I like that, regardless of our history, he has a nickname for me that he reserves for intimate occasions.
It takes a moment for the rest of his words to register, and when they do, my face heats for an entirely different reason.
I manage a shaky nod, but he sternly tells me, “Be a good girl and use your words.”
If I didn’t feel so hot, I might laugh at the sudden change in tone, but something about his voice is really doing it for me.
“Yes,” I say with a gulp.
“Yes what?”
“Yes, you may…” I let my words trail off, but he continues to stare at me expectantly.
“Yes, I may… what? Do this?” Slowly,achingly slowly, he resumes moving two fingers in and out of me, all the while keeping his eyes on mine, knowing exactly what he’s doing.
“Alex,” I gasp.
“Yes, Jo?”
Goddamn it, he’s going to make me say it. I finally command, “Lick me.”
Infuriating asshole that he is, he lowers his head and does exactly that—licks me, once, right on the spot that sends a jolt of sensation through my body, so strong that I nearly knee him.
“Anything else?” he asks, a challenge in his voice, then leans forward to lick me again.
I moan and command him to suck, and he does with enthusiasm, letting out a groan as he suctions his mouth to that bundle of nerves with such aching precision that I nearly scream in relief; he swirls his tongue in a way that has me seeing stars.
Following my directions—and, really, he doesn’t need many more once he’s done purposely being difficult—he manages to home in on every trigger point, every sensitive spot, working me up to a quaking mess and sending me over the edge in what feels like record time.
After I’ve caught my breath, as he’s rolling on a condom and lining himself up, I breathlessly ask, “How the hell are you so good at that?”
He smiles an enigmatic smile, and it’s only belatedly that I realize what an awkward question that was.
How is he so good at that? How is anyone good at it? Practice—duh.
Luckily, he spares us the awkward conversation and kisses me deeply, circling his fingers around my entrance until I feel the build to my next orgasm starting.
“You feel so—ah—so fucking amazing,” he says as he finally slides into me slowly, pausing midway to let me adjust to the feel of him. “I want to do this forever. Nothing but this.”
I let out a laugh that turns into a gasp when he pulls out and thrusts back in. “Keep it up, I just might let you.”
I don’t know what response I expect to that, but a smile so blindingly bright and sincere that it has my head spinning is certainly not it. It’s there for only a second before he lowers his head to plant kisses along my jaw, murmuring comments to me as he continues to slide in and out. “You’re fucking perfect,” and “I can’t believe I got so lucky,” and “How is this real?”
It feels like he’s voicing the same questions that are in my head. How am I lucky enough to be here? How is this real? How ishereal? It’s completely perfect and also too much.
I know that here and now, in this room, we are in a bubble, and the moment I step outside, reality will come rushing back to me. Nothing is actually perfect right now. Things are as messy as they have ever been. Messier, even. But with him, all that fades away, and all I feel is happy. So fucking happy that it doesn’t seem possible.
