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No matter how bad things got, as long as I was here, in his arms, everything would be okay.
Feeling my pause, he took that as his go-ahead to start his own exploration. His hands drifted, sliding over my stomach and brushing the ticklish spot on my ribs. I shivered, and he raised a brow.
Heat crawled over my cheeks, and I looked away with a grumble. “I’m ticklish, but don’t you dare use that.”
An impish glint took over his eyes even as he nodded. “Later.”
Then he kept going until he cupped both breasts, fingers splaying out to completely encase them as he massaged lightly. When he pulled back to tweak the nipples, I bit back a moan, the heat rolling higher.
His lips curled into a knowing smile and he dropped, mouth hovering over a clothed nipple. It took me a second to realize he was waiting for permission, then I nodded, and he closed the distance. Wet heat and the scratch of my shirt made a new combination of sensations that had me burying my head into his hair.
He hummed his approval, switching his attention to the other nipple when the current one tingled and peaked. By the time he finished there, my skin buzzed to life, awareness crawling over me as if keyed into his every breath.
I hadn’t moved my hands since he started, but when the throbbing from between my thighs picked up, I knew what I wanted to feel next. Shifting my hand down now, I slipped it into the hem of his jeans. He was rock hard and pressing against the zipper.
Sneaking a glance down, I winced in sympathy. That couldn’t feel good.
Trailing my fingers over the zipper, I bit my lip and looked back up to him. “You said no clothes off, but I can’t get my hand in there without at least opening your pants.”
His eyes were two molten orbs and he nodded, leaning back on the couch and lifting his hips in wordless agreement. Snagging the metal tab, I pulled it down while being careful to hold the fabric away from him to avoid any snags.
Once it was down, I took in the bulge straining against his underwear, a darker patch of fabric near his tip. My mouth watered, and after a second of consideration, I pressed him to lie lengthwise on the couch. Shifting back to have better access, I hovered my mouth over him and waited, looking up to brand his expression into my memory.
His eyes were open and locked on me, the intentness and anticipation lighting a quiet kind of pride in my chest as finally, I lowered down and kissed his tip through the fabric. He shuddered, hips rolling into me as he sucked in a breath.
“Don’t tease me right now, Jen.” He said, moaning. I loved it, knowing I was the one who’d done this to him. A new kind of power flooded my veins and I smiled, nodding.
Fishing a hand into his underwear, I gripped him, taking a second to soak in how he felt. He was thick in my palm, but not to the point of taking him–when we got to that point–would be impossible or painful, just enough to rub all the right spots without being too much.
The vein leading back to his sac stood out, and I could feel him pulse. Gripping the base, I stroked upward, enjoying how he bucked his hips against me. A long, drawn-out groan dragged from him and I repeated it, starting at the base and pulling upward.
Clear liquid beaded at his tip and my restraint faltered. He was close, and if we kept up like this, it’d be over in no time. Before that happened, I wanted to taste him.
Bending down again, my hand still around his base and massaging lightly, I licked the tip. He hissed, hips bucking hard against me. One of my hands pushed them down, holding them in place as I took the head into my mouth.
His hands slipped out of my shirt, trying to find a handhold. Eventually, one settled on the couch, and the other tangled into my hair. He didn’t push, seemingly content to rest it there. The weight was comforting so I didn’t comment, instead focusing back on my task.
The first few inches weren’t a big deal and I thrived off seeing him struggle not to buck into my mouth. When I got halfway down though, I grimaced. Curse my gag reflex.
There wasn’t a chance I’d be making it further than this. Cracking an eye open, I took in Oliver’s red face. His eyes were pinched shut and his hips rolled in tiny thrusts. When he felt me pause, he opened an eye, and I shivered.
His pupils were blown wide, and I moaned low in my throat.
The vibrations from that proved to be the final straw, his fingers tugging me away in warning. I heeded it, pulling back until only the tip stayed in my mouth. Making sure to keep eye contact with him, I squeezed his base until he tipped over the edge of his climax.
Once he was done, I tucked him back into his pants and plopped my chin on his chest, enjoying the sight of him coming down from his high. His cheeks were dark red and his eyes were shut, his chest heaving with each breath as he slowly regained his control.
When he finally opened his eyes, they were hazy with satisfaction and a burning hunger.
“I regret saying clothes have to stay on now. I can’t return the favor unless you’re naked.” He said with a hint of disappointment to his tone, and, after a second of thought, I offered.
“We could change it to no penetration?”
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to feel him between my thighs like that, and if the look in his eyes was any indication, he wanted that too.
A slow smile curled his lips, and he nodded. “Perfect. If you want to stop or slow down, say so or tug on my hair. It might take a few times to get my attention, though.” He pulled me up until his head hovered between my thighs, his breath hitting my clothed center. “This is one of my favorite parts, and I tend to get wrapped up in it.”
So saying, he carefully wiggled me out of my pants and underwear, dropping them to the side. Without any barriers, his breath was hot against me and I squirmed, one hand wrapped in his hair and the other bracing me above him.
