“Yes, even with that.”
“It’s done, you know? You don’t have to worry. I’m not going to trip again.”
I nod. “Okay.”
“I’m not, Stell. I don’t want that. I don’t need it.”
“I know, Sam.”
“I just need you.” His hand moves to my leg, and he pushes my dress up. “And I can’t tell you that enough. But maybe I can show you.”
He leans over me and kisses his way up my thigh until I can feel his breath over my underwear. He slips it down and then with one touch of his tongue, he quickly sends me into sexual oblivion. Only Sam can get me this crazed so fast, and I let myself take in every sensation of his mouth. He pulls me against him, showing me how much he loves this. He is slow and methodical in what he does. First, his tongue barely moves over me, something he now knows gets me squirmy and breathless. Later, in the heat of it, Sam’s hand and mouth work faster and harder until I can’t control the way my thighs tremble, and he makes me come so hard that I’m nearly blinded by the force of it.
I’m still panting when he crawls up, but I grab him by his waistband and hold him against me while I catch my breath.
“You okay there, sport?” he asks, laughing lightly.
I nod. “Holy shit.”
He lets me recover and kisses my neck and shoulders until I can breathe again.
“Sam?”
“Hmm?” His mouth is still exploring my skin.
“Sam? I need to tell you something. For real.”
“Anything.” He moves onto his side and props himself up on an elbow.
Now that he’s waiting on me, I’m uncomfortable. But I need to say this. “What you just did for me? I…I haven’t done for you yet.”
“Stell—”
“No, it’s true. You can’t pretend it isn’t. I feel like I spend half the time I’m awake with your mouth between my legs.”
He smiles flirtatiously at me. “I like it down there.”
“Well, I do, too. Trust me. But…” I hate what I’m about to say. “Before, when I was with Jay, he made it…awful. I know it wouldn’t be like that with you, but I have this bad association.”
“That’s not how it’s ever supposed to be. And I’d like to go a round or ten with that asshole for how he treated you.” His expression softens and is so full of understanding. “You don’t ever have to do anything that you’re not comfortable with. You know that, right? I don’t need you to go down on me in order for me to be crazy about you or to be crazy about how good it feels to be with you.”
I roll my eyes. “You might be the best guy in the world, but you’re still a guy. It’s kind of normal to want a blow job now and then.”
Sam is trying not to laugh, and he bites his lip. “Okay, sure. I can’t say that I don’t think about it ever. But who cares? It’s just not that big of a deal to me. I want you to be happy and comfortable. And occasionally in ecstasy.” He brushes his lips over mine. “And, Stella? You don’t have to justify this to me. What you want or don’t want is up to you.”
I move a hand to the top of his pants and undo the button. Then, I ease down the zipper. “I’m telling you thisbecauseof how comfortable I am with you. You make everything safe. You make me want what I didn’t know I could have.” I press against his shoulder and move him onto his back. “I want this for me.” His pants and boxers come off easily, and I move to hold myself above him.
When I run my tongue over his length, Sam groans and runs his hands through his hair. “Are you sure? It’s okay if—”
I stop him by putting my mouth around his cock, and a rush of pleasure runs through me. He feels so good. I didn’t want to do this until I was sure that it would feel right. The last thing I wanted was to get myself in a situation where I might feel negatively about doing anything with Sam. I am immensely grateful for his understanding, so I plan on showing him just how grateful.
There’s not one part of me that is not fully absorbed with touching him, tasting him, and feeling how he grows harder in my mouth with each move I make. I wrap one hand around him and move along with my mouth. Sam finds my free hand, and his palm presses against mine. His fingers hold on, tightening, as I bring him closer. It’s his way of telling me to stay present, that he’s here with me, and it makes me want to prolong this as much as possible.
So, I slow down. I tease. I learn to enjoy what was once about being dominated, controlled, used, what used to make me choke and gag and hate myself. Sam’s response to me—the subtle way he lifts his hips in rhythm to my mouth, the connection he solidifies by holding my hand, and the perfect sounds of sexual pleasure he lets out—undoes the damage from my past.
When I can’t wait anymore, when my urge to hear him and feel him go over the edge are too much, I increase my pace.
Sam moans. “Stella…” He moves to push me away. “You need to stop, or I’m going to come.”
I love that he’s said this because it shows how cautious and watchful he is over me, but I keep going because this is exactly what I want. And when he does come, he is perfect in how he moves and sounds and tastes. I’m not sure which one of us is more fulfilled by what we’ve done together, but he reaches under my arm and pulls me to lay on his chest.
“I have to hold you.”
His heartbeat pounds into me, and it’s the best sound I could hear. It is life and love.
The door to his apartment bangs open. “Who wants tequila?”
Fuck.
Costa is back.
