11. Rowan
CHAPTER 11
ROWAN
M y knees would have buckled had I not been able to put some of my weight on Gil. I was at least eighty-nine percent sure that he’d actually sucked my brains out of my cock. In ten seconds flat, no less. The swiftness of my orgasm dawned on me and I let out a groan.
Gil pulled back, releasing my magically still hard cock from his mouth. He looked up at me, smug as hell. The side of his mouth curved up and he swiped at a stray drop of cum, tucking his finger into his mouth to suck it off.
The man was fucking obscene.
I should have been more insulted by the fact that he didn’t want to date me, but it had hardly come as a shock. I knew what I looked like, what I acted like. I knew better than anyone how awkward I could be. Hardly a catch, especially for someone like Gil. Yeah, I’d seen it coming a mile away, but I had to admit that the amazing blow job took the sting out of the whole thing.
Hell, when I changed, I’d half expected him to be gone by the time I made it back to the living room. But he’d surprised me by his continued presence.
He rose to his feet, dragging his mouth up my skin as he went. Kissing my stomach, my chest, before nuzzling in against my neck, practically purring as his hands rested on my hips. The friction of Gil’s jeans when he pressed himself against me was almost too much to handle.
I bit back a whimper and Gil’s fingers dug into my bare hips as his lips brushed over mine. Gil’s hunger was a feral thing, gnashing at me with sharp teeth. Grabbing at me and tugging me closer, he pressed me against the back of the couch. Being pinned there made my cock twitch. My breath caught and I found myself begging for more. Maybe it was the absolute lack of sex in my life, or maybe it was just Gil, but I’d gone from not caring about getting off to wanting to be under Gil as often as possible.
It’s all I’d thought about for the past three days. In the shower. In the morning and at night. I’d tried to keep my mind off him by throwing myself into project after project, but he was never far from my mind.
I felt like I dreamed him.
He kissed me deeper, silencing the whimpers that had started to pour out of me when he pinned me to the back of the couch.
“Shhh,” Gil kissed the corner of my mouth. Stubble scratched against my cheek as he dragged his talented mouth down the line of my jaw. His fingers delved between my cheeks and I sucked in a breath. From his pocket, he retrieved a bottle of lube and I didn’t stop to think about how presumptuous that was. Or how hot it made me.
Gil set the lube on the back of the couch and yanked his pants open. One day soon, I wanted to put my mouth on him, but he gripped my hips and flipped me around so my front was pressed into the couch. He skimmed a hand down my back and over the globes of my ass, then freed his cock from his pants by shoving them down to mid-thigh.
Time slowed and I watched him slick his fingers with lube before sliding up closer to me. “You need to be quiet, Row. Can you do that?”
Breathless without even being touched, I nodded. The truth of it was that I’d probably do anything Gil asked of me. My eyes reflexively shut when he pressed a finger against my hole, circled it with a touch that was too possessive to be gentle, but delicious all the same.
He entered me slowly with that finger, sliding in and out a few times before he cupped my cheek with his other hand. His mouth crashed down over mine as he inserted a second finger in. For a long, blissful moment, I was unable to do anything but breathe and concentrate on opening myself to him. Then suddenly it was like I came alive. Like he’d breathed me into existence again. I writhed on his hand, fucking myself on his fingers, not caring how needy I must have looked. How desperate I must have sounded.
Gil let out a quiet, but frustrated sounding grunt and pulled away.
“Can you keep quiet or do I have to help you?”
I watched, mesmerized by the way he handled his cock, applying a generous amount of lube.
“How would you help me?” Without his touch, I felt unmoored and a little self-conscious standing in the middle of my living room with my bare ass hanging out and my pants around my feet.
Gil stepped up behind me. His mouth connected with my shoulder, the nape of my neck. One hand anchored on my hip, the other he used to guide his cock to my waiting hole. The blunt end pressed against me, but didn’t go any further.
“Yes or no, Rowan.” Gil said.
“Yes,” I said.
The answer would always be yes. I was weak for him. For any scrap of attention he’d throw my way. Even if he didn’t want to date me, he wanted me—at least for this. And I’d take what I could get.
Gil’s cock glided forward, stretched the ring of tender skin and muscle slowly to accommodate the intrusion. I gripped onto the back of the couch with both hands and arched my back as his teeth scraped at my skin. Sharp incisors on tender flesh made my head swim.
Whatever I’d expected from Gil, it wasn’t this raw intensity or the languid pace at which he fucked me. Every inch of him slid into me like it belonged there. He buried his face against the back of my neck, hot breath washing over my skin. And he kept going at that slow, sweet pace.
“Gil, I—” My words cut off into a moan and suddenly his hand was over my mouth, his breath in my ear. Our bodies so close you couldn’t slot a sheet of paper between us.
“Quiet, Rowan.” He reached around and took my cock in his hand. I was powerless to do anything but stand there and be ruled by him. My brain didn’t know what sensation it liked the most. The hand on my mouth. The one on my cock. Or the way he filled me.
Gil’s speed didn’t increase. He fucked me in slow, deep thrusts. He didn’t jerk me off either, but instead squeezed the base of my cock when I got too close to the edge. Time lost meaning. I was a sweaty mess of a man, melted in Gil’s arms, my whimpers met with quiet reminders to keep my voice down.
The intensity made my head spin. It might have been the lack of oxygen or blood flow to my brain. Then… Gil’s pace picked up. He was taller than I was and every so often he’d fuck me deeper, like he was rising up on his toes to see how far inside me he could get.
If he asked, I’d have told him he was everywhere. Under my skin and in my bones. My blood. But he didn’t ask. Instead his hand on my mouth clamped tighter and his other started moving, using my precum to smooth the glide of his fingers on my cock. All I could do was hold on.
“Fuck, Row. So good for me, aren’t you?”
Praise from Gil had a way of undoing me. It was stupid, but I wanted him to like me.
He turned my head and moved his hand only to replace it with his mouth. My body was light and tingly except for the pulse of impending orgasm between my legs and the fire that burned in my veins. He kissed me deeper as I started to come, coating his hand with my release. I wanted to reach for him, but I couldn’t in the position I was in.
For as quiet and slow as he’d fucked me, his orgasm was no less intense than the first one. He fucked me until he was at the precipice, then pulled out. The loss I felt was the thing that made me nearly crumple to the floor, but Gil held me steady with an arm around my waist. He jerked behind me, the sound of skin on skin not unfamiliar to me. I felt something warm hit my back, then my ass.
“Fuck,” His voice shook. Fingers smeared the mess around on my skin and then those same fingers were pressed between my lips and into my mouth. “I wanted to come inside you last time. And this time too. Wanted to fill you and watch it leak out of you, but I wanted you to taste me too.”
It was salty and not unpleasant and I licked my lips when Gil’s fingers retreated from my mouth. “I have a feeling it would be better direct from the source.”
Gil groaned and ground his flagging erection against me. He gripped my hips again and pressed his forehead between my shoulder blades. My legs quaked and the cum drying on my ass wasn’t ideal for comfort, but I couldn’t bear to move. Not yet.
“Will you? Next time?”
Gil chuckled behind me. “Full sentences, Row. Gonna need some context.”
“Come inside me. Next time. You’re the only one I’ve been with since—in a long time.”
If there would be a next time. There wasn’t supposed to have been a second time. Would Gil really be interested in me for a third round? I tried not to let that thought depress me. The fact that I only had a few days left before returning to work was already weighing on me. A new office in a new city with new colleagues. I know I’d moved for a fresh start, but that didn’t mean starting over was all fun and games.
“Would you like that?” The husky quality of Gil’s voice dragged me back into the present. He ran his hands over my skin, up under my shirt and wrapped his arms around me. Just as I started to wonder if Gil was a secret snuggler after sex, he was gone.
He bent over and pulled my sweats up my legs and over my ass. By the time I managed to turn around, he was tucked back in his pants. He yanked the zipper up and I couldn’t help but lean in and steal a kiss.
He didn’t want to date me. That was fine. But maybe we could be friends. Friends kissed sometimes. Friends fucked sometimes. But I didn’t know how to ask for that without making him think I wanted more.
“I would like that, for the record,” I answered finally.
Gil smirked at me, his smile always slightly crooked because of the scarring on his face. But his imperfections only added to his appeal.
Taking a chance, I took another step toward him and tilted my head up to look him in the eyes. Our mouths were just a breath apart. “I’d like that a lot,” I told him before stealing another kiss that tasted like both of us.
When we parted, Gil looked at me, his gaze intense in a way I couldn’t read. “Never wipe my cum off again, Rowan.”
I wasn’t sure what he was referring to, but I smiled and agreed, resting my hands against his chest.
“Never,” I promised.