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“I’m going to—” I pant, gasping. “I’m coming.” And with a huge surge of energy and moisture. I release an orgasm that’s built up for years. I haven’t had one like that since… Josh.
“That’s my girl.” He’s looking down, watching his cream-covered fingers going in and out still. “Come for me again.”
“I can’t.” And I’m sure of it. I’m still convulsing deep inside.
“Sure you can.” He tugs me to standing, pushes me forward so my hands are braced up the incline, making my bending over not quite as drastic. He pushes my legs apart with his knees, then I feel his hands spreading me. “Fuck. I love your pussy. God, I’ve missed this pretty pink sight.” His thumbs play along the outside of my folds, running up and down. “I want you. Now.”
I hear a zipper, and it makes me wetter—if that’s possible. Then I feel his engorged mushroom head.
No condom.
That thought hits me like a sledgehammer.
No condom, and his cock is pressing against me, demanding entrance.
10
CELL DOORS AND BLOW JOBS
CASSIE
Suddenly it’s like a cell door clanging shut. I can’t do this. I can’t end up where I was before, a little more than three years ago. Simply can’t. And I can’t even tell him why. I’ll have to make something up. God, I don’t want to lie to Josh.
I jerk forward. Taking his hands, I shake my head.
“What’s up?”
He’s holding his beautiful, mushroom-headed thickness. It hasn’t changed. Engorged, full, wide, throbbing with its own pulse. He’s still in the position, poised to thrust it in, holding the base of it.
I can’t tell him. I can’t discuss this with him now. Maybe I never will be able to.
I kneel and opt for Plan B. Sue me. Plan B is a BJ. “Turnabout’s fair play.” I put the tip of my tongue on the juicy drops that have formed, licking, and lapping at them.
His girth still in his hand, he groans. “Fuck, Cass. Fuck.”
I take the head in my mouth, sucking on it, running my tongue under the ridge, twirling it around. He grunts and grabs my head, pushing himself deeper.
He doesn’t know this, and I may never tell him, but he’s the last guy I did this with. All those one-night stands—I never did this with them. And they never were allowed to go down on me. Or to kiss me. I shove those thoughts away—too self-destructive.
He pushes on my head. I open my mouth, relaxing the muscles in my throat, taking him as deep as I can, which isn’t all the way because he’s so large. I wrap my fingers around him, letting my hands do that which my mouth can’t fully do.
“Look at me.” His words are like a curse, staccato, forced, encumbered by desire. I look up at his face, watching the grimace of passion as it overcomes him. He holds my head still and pumps repeatedly into my mouth, I take all he has to give because it’s been so long since I felt anything—and this feels like everything.
I’m expecting this to be a marathon because Josh never finished early, but before I know it, he’s hissing my name, his face a mask of longing. He grunts and yells my name out this time, as a rope of thick passion releases from his cock and hits the back of my throat. It slides down, swallowed quickly so that the texture doesn’t get to me.
“Judas,” he growls. “Fuck. It’s been a while.”
I’m sure he means that it’s been a while since he and I did anything, since there’s that blonde I saw with him.
That thought is a splash of cold water. More like a deluge of cold water.
The sun’s beginning its descent, and it’s getting cool, but nowhere near as cold as I feel inside at the thought that he has someone else, and I’ve just reinvested myself into him.
I look down for my panties, slip them on, follow it up with my jeans.
What the hell am I supposed to say? It was good to see you? It was good to suck you off? See you in a few years, if I’ve healed? I sidestep his jacket, looking for my shoes before it hits me, one’s on the bank, and one’s somewhere buried in the quicksand-like mud in the water.
I want to get out of there. To go somewhere to relive this, to relish it, then to go back to that place where I try to heal, because now I’ve had a major setback.
