I’m starting to understand, but the evidence is overwhelming when I bring my hand down his cock then back up. His breathing changes from steady and sure to weak and fragile. He collapses onto the mattress, head on the pillows and fingers on my wrist, like he wants to be a part of the moment too.
In an act of boldness, I keep my eyes locked on his. I pull my hand away and spit in the center of my palm, stroking him again.My confidence grows with every desperate groan that works its way up from the back of his throat. My nerves settle when he whimpers, low and indecent. It’s a noise I’ll replay late at night when I’m alone, touching myself to the aching memory of his mouth.
“Fuck.” His neck elongates. “Quincy.That feels so good.”
“Could you come like this?”
“I’m doing long algebra while I wonder what it would be like to finish on your tits.” He laughs again, skeptical. “I want to make a fucking mess of you.”
I mimic his position from earlier; the sheets cool against my stomach as I press a kiss to the tip of his shaft. I run my tongue up the length of him, his restraint slipping by the second. “You’ve never been careful with me, Sebastian. I dare you to stop holding back.”
His palm moves to my head, looping a handful of hair around his wrist and yanking—hard. It catches me off guard and makes me gasp, but I don’t fight it. I smile instead.
“Open up.” The demand is brimming with lust, and I would do anything he asked. My mouth parts. I wrap my lips around his shaft, savoring the weight of his cock, heavy on my tongue. It’s my turn to moan when I taste him, salty and new. “There you go. That’s perfect.”
Hell.
The praise unlocks a part of myself I’ve kept away, the woman who always liked to be the best at everything. It fuels the heat kindling inside me until it grows into a wildfire, my body alight with desire. I lick him from base to tip. I fight back the tears that spring to my eyes, hollowing out my cheeks so I can take him deeper,deeper, every time I lower my mouth on him.
Sebastian is kind enough to let me get used to his size. He doesn’t move, still except for the flex of his thighs, the tightening of his grip to let me know he’s still there. But then he reaches theback of my throat, and a switch flips. The dynamic changes. It turns rough, sensual. Need in its rawest form, and the inability to keep our hands off each other.
There’s drool hanging from my mouth and sweat on my forehead. My hair sticks to the back of my neck and tears stain my cheeks. Some part of me acknowledges I should be embarrassed by how messy I am, but I’m not.
How can I be, when every single moment between us has been building to this: High school. College. His weeks back in town and sharing secrets.
Sebastian murmurs encouragement. There’s affection when I’m not sure I can last another second. Admiration when I do something new he likes: swirling my tongue, scraping my nails up his leg.
The groan he lets out when his length disappears completely in my mouth—my nose brushing against his thigh and my heart somewhere near my toes when he whispers how well I’m doing—is possessed. It’s the splintered pieces of a man close to unraveling, and a rush of pride swells in me.
“If this is how good it is with your mouth—” His fingers comb through my hair, careful to work out the knots he finds. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life dreaming about what your pussy feels like.”
There’s a drugstore less than ten minutes up the road. It wouldn’t take long to grab a box of condoms. Maybe he could push the front seat back and let me straddle him in a dark and dimly lit parking lot. We wouldn’t need to make it back to my house.
But I’m afraid the second one of us walks out of my room, that’ll be it. The illusion of mutual orgasms will shatter in the reality that exists outside these four walls.
Messy, complicated reality. People who want different things, and that’s not what tonight is about.
I ignore the ache between my legs. I shove away the thoughtof Sebastian’s body over mine, a hand on either side of my head as he pushed inside me, the stretch of him filling me up my biggest desire.
“We’d be good together.” I tilt my head so I can lick up his length. I replace my mouth with my hand until he’s whimpering again. Until he’s lifting his hips and meeting my strokes with rough thrusts. “Don’t you think?”
“Quincy.” My name is a frantic ask. An exultation. “I’m going to—”
I make the split-second decision to put my lips back on him, ignoring his protest ofyou don’t have toso I can swallow down his warm release when he spills inside me.
It takes him a few minutes to stop panting and unwind. When he does, I pop him out of my mouth. I sit back on my heels and lick my lips, satisfaction rolling through me. Sebastian blinks. His gaze is dreamlike, his breaths thoroughly depleted, and I smile.
“We should’ve done that years ago,” he manages to say. There’s perspiration on his forehead. More on his neck.
“When would we have had time for that?”
“I would’ve found time.” Sebastian tugs on my arm and brings me down to his side. I let him, curling around him and resting my cheek on his chest. It’s only for a minute. Something that doesn’t count once he leaves. “Hang on. You have a little—” He swipes his thumb along the corner of my smile. “I don’t like when people leave a mess behind. Open up.”
My body reacts on instinct, and I part my mouth. I hold out my tongue and suck on his finger, tasting him again.
“We did this earlier tonight,” I say. His chuckle is exhaustion needled with blissful contentment. “But with more clothes.”
“Never thought I’d be lucky enough to have round two.”
