Then his warm, wet mouth is sucking me to the back of his throat, and I’m done for.
My orgasm hits me like a freight train. John barely touched me, but I was so worked up after he fucked my face that there was no way I’d be able to hold back if I wanted. I cry out as my body arches off the bed, and I come with waves of pleasure so intense I nearly black out. I didn’t even know it was possible to come this hard.
My breath evens out after a few long moments, but my mind is still unfocused, enjoying the post-orgasm high. I can’t even care enough to be embarrassed that I lasted maybe thirty seconds.
“How are you feeling?” John asks, helping guide me to lay against him where he’s now propped up on the bed. “I’m sorry, I probably should have held back a bit more than that for your first time.”
“No, that was perfect,” I say through a yawn, nuzzling further into his hold. “Holy shit, John. I swear I’m not drunk, but that orgasm was so good I might as well be.”
“It’ll wear off soon,” he murmurs into my hair, and I don’t know if I imagine him kissing the top of my head, but I’m choosing to believe he really did it.
We’re quiet for a moment, but I want to know what he’s thinking, how it was for him. “So…” I trail off, suddenly afraid to ask, because what if it wasn’t as amazing of an experience for him as it was for me? What if I ask, and he decides to tell me it was a one-time thing?
“You did so good for me, Princess,” he whispers, and this time, I’m sure he kisses the top of my head. His words melt into me, leaving me all warm and fuzzy inside.
It’s addicting. I don’t care what John wants to call this thing between us, or how many houses I have to buy to keep doing it,but I need more of this feeling. His praise is worth whatever hoops he wants me to jump through. His complete attention on me, the desire in his gaze, and the way it makes me feel like I’m important to him because of who I am, not just the privileged life I was born into.
He shifts us so we’re lying properly in the bed with my head against the pillows. I miss his touch, but he pulls a blanket up over me, and it feels so nice.
John shifts away from me entirely, and a tiny strike of panic hits me, but then he’s back, helping me sit up and pressing a glass of water into my hand. “Drink,” he instructs, “slowly.”
I do as he says, and the cold liquid feels amazing sliding down my throat. I have a few small sips, then he takes the glass back.
“This part”—he motions to me—“the blanket, the water, me making sure you’re okay, is called aftercare.”
“I like it,” I whisper. “I like you taking care of me.”
He lets out a sigh, and I sit up, feeling more alert now. “We should’ve had this conversation earlier, but I couldn’t think straight.” He shakes his head and takes another big breath before he continues. “Aftercare, it’s part of this. Part of our agreement. It’s about responsibility and safety, not feelings.”
I nod slowly, trying to process what he’s saying. “Not… feelings,” I repeat.
“Right,” he confirms. “Not feelings. I do this for anyone I…” He trails off as if he’s seriously considering each word before he says it. Finally he continues. “Anyone I have an arrangement with. Do you understand the difference?”
I think I do. The logical part of my brain, the part that isn’t floating miles above the earth, understands the distinction he’s making and the promise I made before we kissed.
But the rest of me, the part that’s melting into his mattress and soaking up his praise like a sponge, doesn’t care about thelogic. It just knows I feel safe. It knows that everything about tonight feels right, and I want to continue to do this with him.
Forever, if that’s an option.
“Yeah,” I breathe. “I understand.”
I don’t, not really. But right now, as my eyes flutter closed, wanting to please him feels more important than anything else in the world.
12
JOHN
“Ican’t believe you’re buying Phil’s old place,” I grunt, staring at the large house that’s only minutes from mine.
“I love it already!” Chad announces as he hurries out of the passenger seat and toward the front door. I move to follow and end up accidentally slamming the door of his Range Rover.
I’m… in a mood.
Part of me is still riding the high of fucking Chad’s face last night because that entire experience was even better than I’d dared hope for.
But I also can’t believe I let it go that far. There’s so much we should’ve discussed before we got naked, but he was so fucking eager and enthusiastic, it was easy to forget it was his first time with a man. When I agreed to his proposed arrangement of just sex, no feelings, I told myself that I would stick to that normal hookup arrangement. He wasn’t asking me to dominate him; Chad probably has no idea what that even means. But apparently, I have absolutely no self-control when it comes to that man, because ten minutes later, I had him using the fucking stoplight system with his head hanging off the bed so I had a betterangle to fuck his throat.
And he loved it.
