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He’s dragging my underwear down my legssoslowly, and each inch is an erotic torture. My breathing is already embarrassingly fast and I’m sure my face is bright red.
“The review of your blowjob.” Shockingly, he keeps a straight face through that sentence.
I manage a scoff. “Are you seriously—fuck.”
He’s pushing a finger inside of me. My entire body arches, enjoying the sweet relief of finally getting filled there. Trying to get closer to his touch. He’s playing my body like I’m an instrument and he’s an expert musician, applying pressure to the perfect spot.
I haven’t hooked up with anyone since Aidan, but there was a much longer dry spell before we met in Colorado. So I think it’shim, not that I’m eager for an orgasm.
“Location was an interesting choice. There was a metal shelf digging into my spine and the fifth floor smells kind of musty. It was super quiet, which I thought I’d hate, but was actually kind of hot. I liked how I could hear you sucking, not just watch. Especially when you made those breathy little sighs. I could feel them in your throat but then also hear you.”
I don’t know if I should look horrified or start laughing. He’s actually doing this, fingering me while reviewing our last hookup.
And if I wasn’t already so wet, he’d be able to tell how much it’s turning me on.
“Only downside is that I’m not sure how I’ll be able to study there again without thinking about it. Not that I studied there much before, or at all really, but still. We might need to relocate our tutoring sessions if you want me to be paying attention to anything you’re saying instead of thinking about your mouth on me. And then the way you took off when it sounded like someone was coming was disappointing. Since it was before I could do this.”
He leans down, replacing his fingers with his tongue.
I can’t control the “Fuck” that explodes out of my mouth at the first swipe.
As far as my roommates know, I’m in my room alone and sick. I’d really rather they don’t wonder why I’m in here moaning. I bite down on my bottom lip hard enough to taste blood as he licks me again, my fingers fisting the comforter and my heels digging into the soft fabric. My hips lift in a shameless attempt to get closer to his mouth.
“You taste so fucking good.” He presses a wet kiss to the divot inside my hipbone, then returns to tonguing my entrance.
I writhe, barely recognizing the needy sounds coming out of my mouth when he pulls away. He’s stripped me down to the most primal of urges. I don’t care about anything except coming.
“So, overall, I’d give location a four out of five,” Aidan continues in a conversational tone.
I whimper as his fingers trail up the inside of my thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. My hips jerk involuntarily, silently begging for him to move higher. This intensity is new and overwhelming. Fooling around has always felt good. But it’s never been this consuming urge, never been this torment of feeling like my world might end if he stops touching me.
His fingers trail down instead of up, drawing light circles on my skin that feel like being brushed by feathers. Soft and stimulating.
My growl is annoyed as I open my knees so wide I can feel the inside of my thighs protesting the stretch. I’m so turned on it feels like the pulse in my pussy has spread throughout my entire body.
I’m close.Soclose. Teetering at the edge, craving that final push.
“Is the library a favorite math major spot?” Aidan teases.
I’m too desperate for release to manage a coherent conversation. Or get annoyed he’s teasing me about my major again.
“Shut up,” I groan.
“I thought you wanted a review, Rylan. Something you’d rather I do with my mouth?”
Breathlessly, I nod, moving my head to the side so I can see him better. Most of my hair has come out of the bun I had it pulled back in earlier, now a messy halo spread across the comforter.
“And take your shirt off,” I tell him.
The sight of his head between my legs is hot. But his shirt is blocking my view of his shoulders and biceps tensing as he touches me.
Aidan’s eyes dance with arrogant amusement at the request—whatever, it’s not like he had no clue I’m attracted to him—but he says nothing as he rises up onto his knees, then smoothly tugs the cotton shirt up and over his head. He’s just as ridiculously ripped as he was in the hot tub weeks ago. And this is better, because I can see him more clearly, just like in the library. A faded, green-gray bruise stretches across part of his side.
I lift my foot, lightly tapping the old injury with my sock. “What happened?”
“Hockey.” He leans over, treating me to a look at his impressive muscles in motion.
I clench around nothing, tempted to tell him to ditch his pants so I can admire his cock again too.
