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So many fucking stars.
That's all I see.
Feel.
Stars.
The warmth of his body, his fingers inside me, the scent of his cologne.
Cascading warmth.
I want to stay here forever.
Eventually, though, I drift out of my haze and back to reality.
Blaise and I are still standing, but he’s supporting most of my weight with his arm wrapped around my midsection. His fingers are still inside me but have stopped moving. His already full, pierced lips are swollen from our kisses, and his eyes are on mine, searching for something I don’t fully comprehend.
“Was that …? Did that feel good?” he finally asks with a trace of uncertainty.
Again, I recall what he said to me in the dressing room.
“Have you …? Have you ever done this before?” I dare ask. “I mean, you said something to me in the dressing room that makes me wonder …”
When his body turns rigid, I regret asking.
I am so dumb.
I know better.
Know some of the things that were done to him.
“I’m sorry,” I start to say, but he brushes the pad of his thumb across my lips, stopping the words from leaving my mouth.
“You know some of the things that happened to me when I was younger,” he says unevenly. “But this is the first time I’ve ever willingly done something like this.” He kisses me then, slipping his tongue into my mouth and stealing the air from my lungs.
My fingertips dig into his arms as I tip back, giving him more access. Eventually, I twist around and face him so our chests are lined up and my arms are hooked around his neck. My fingers comb through his hair again as I pull him closer, getting lost in every tangle of our tongues and every brush of his fingers across my sides, my back, my breasts.
Finally, I can’t take it anymore and trail my hands down his chest and abs. The lean muscles constrict beneath my touch, but he doesn’t pull back. Instead, he kisses me more passionately, his fingers splaying across my lower back and causing me to arch into him.
When my fingers reach the top of the waistband of his pants, I pause and slightly pull back.
“Can I touch you, too?” I ask through my panting.
His chest heaves as he struggles to breathe evenly. Then, with a nod, he cups my cheek with his hand. “I trust you.” He says it with zero hesitancy.
Apprehension bubbles inside me as I nod then dip my fingers into his pants and wrap my fingers around his cock. His eyelids flutter shut as he moans, his fingers sliding up my cheeks and through the locks of my hair. The gentle tug on the roots feel so wonderfully good that I’m the one to moan.
I start moving my hand up and down, unsure if I’m doing it correctly. He appears to be enjoying it, though, as sheer ecstasy floods his face and his legs start to wobble the more I move my hand.
“Is this okay?” I finally ask.
He frantically nods. Then, without uttering a word, he backs us to the bed and starts to lower me toward the mattress. For a horrifying moment, I worry he’s going to climb on top of me, but as if he recalls what happened earlier, he lies down at my side so we’re lying face-to-face.
As I start moving my hand again, he leans in to kiss me while his palm slides down my stomach and dips into my panties. He slips his fingers inside me again, and I struggle to focus on moving my hand up and down his hardness. I manage, even when I feel those stars within my reach as his fingers move over and over again, pumping into me.
His forehead lowers against mine as he starts to come undone, his hips grinding in rhythm with my hand as he comes all over my stomach.
We both ride out our orgasm with panting breaths and soft, delirious kisses.
