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“You don’t need to make a choice, Priest. I’m not asking you to.”
“We don’t look for danger, but it comes. Can you live with that?”
“For you, yeah.”
“Babe—”
I put my palms on either side of his face. “Listen carefully. There are no guarantees in life. But when I’m with you, I feel whole. I’ve never felt like I completely belong, except for when I’m with Bethany. With you, everything seems clear. I can’t explain it, and I don’t care about the why or how. I’m just going to accept it.” I inhale deeply before saying, “I’m falling in love with you. I know it’s love because I’ve never been in love, and this feeling is so magical that I can’t find another word for it.”
* * *
Priest
Iswore to myself I’d never shed another tear. I cried so much in my dank bedroom as a boy, praying to God to take me away from that house. As I grew older, I decided that tears and prayers were useless, and when I got the strap or was berated, I just took it. I swallowed the fear and took it. I refused to let them see me cry.
But Quinn telling me that she’s in love with me creates a warmth in my heart that I’d never imagined I’d feel again. The intensity of her words, the way she’s looking at me, makes my eyes wet with tears, and the only thing I can do to stop it is to drag her mouth down to mine and kiss her.
Quinn yields to me, meeting my need with her own. Our lips mesh, our heads turning this way and that, as my fist grips her hair. I twist us to lie on the bed, turning to have Quinn beneath me. Her leg runs up over mine and lands around my thigh. She grinds her lower half into me while her hands slip under my T-shirt, her nails scratching down my back.
Reluctantly, I pull my mouth from hers. “Baby, we’ve gotta slow this down. I can’t go gentle,” I warn.
“Who says I want you to?” she says with a mischievous grin.
* * *
Quinn
I’m ready to climb on top of Priest and relieve this ache that’s building in my belly. Gentle isn’t even an option at this point. I tug his T-shirt up and off, then take off my own shirt as Priest unzips my jeans and glides them down over my hips and thighs until I’m finally free of them. He quickly removes his own jeans and boxers. I take a moment to admire his form. I wonder if he knows how beautiful he is.
The muscled expanse of his chest, tapered waist, and firm thighs are any woman’s dream. His cock is impressive, hard and ready. I reach out to feel the soft velvety skin, and his hand covers my own.
“I’m not going to last if you do that,” he tells me.
“I want to watch you blow for me.” It must be said that at any other point in my past, I have never enjoyed giving head, but with Priest, it feels right. I have a visceral need to watch him as he comes. Knowing that I do that to him gives me a high incomparable to any other, except my own orgasms, of course.
I move to sit on the edge of the bed, while Priest stands within reach as I cup his balls and run my tongue around the tip of his cock. Immediately, his hand goes through my hair, lifting it off my neck, so he can take it all in. I flick my tongue through his sensitive slit. A hiss escapes the back of his throat. Even that’s sexy and only spurs me to continue.
When I close my hot mouth over the tip and slowly move over his member, he grips my scalp, and a ragged groan emerges as he says my name. I could do this all day.
I bob my head up and down. Slow at first, I build up to a quicker pace, all the while working him with my hand. I feel his cock jerk in my mouth. My hands on the back of his thighs feel his muscles tense, like he’s trying to hold on. He warns me with a tug on my hair.
“Gonna come, precious,” he groans once more. I go faster, wanting to taste him. “Fuck me, babe. I can’t—” A roar resonates around the room. Gooey salty goodness slides into my mouth and down my throat. Priest throws back his head at the height of his orgasm.
He’s barely catching his breath when he tosses me back onto the bed and kisses me passionately, then moves down my body between my legs and latches on to my clit like a starving man who hasn’t had a meal in months.
“No. No. No. It’s too much,” I cry. Priest hums over my pussy, which only incites my impending orgasm. I’m so close. I wriggle beneath his touch, arching my back. He grips my hips, holding me down, forcing me to take all he gives me, and what he gives is marvelous.
“Come,” he orders against my pussy. I don’t want to come yet, I’m enjoying the ride, but Priest has other ideas, and when his teeth give a little bite on my clit, not hurtful, but enough that I feel the little nerve-ending jolt, I’m forced to let go and soar to my climax.
Priest slides his tongue to my hip bone, where he drops a soft kiss, then moves to my collarbone and does the same, before landing on my lips and kissing me tenderly.
“I’m already in love with you, precious,” he whispers in my ear. I bury my head against his neck and weep. It’s silly, I know, but the tidal wave of emotion flows through me, and I can’t stop it. He lets me have my moment, holding me close, then decides I’ve had enough time. “I didn’t know you were going to be such a crybaby about it.”
I slap his chest playfully, turning my tears into laughter. He joins in, and the sound of his chuckle is like music to my ears.
“How do you like my room?” he continues with his banter.
I push myself onto my elbows and look around. The place is neat as a pin. Stark, but neat. There’s a chair with a small table piled with books. There are two doors. I assume one is a bathroom and the other his closet. The bedside table is dark wood and sturdy, and the bed is made of the same. The room is utilitarian at best, but well maintained.
