21. Gabby
Seth takes my hand and pulls me from the couch. Without a word, he leads me to the bedroom, where he turns to me and says playfully, “Are your sheets clean?”
I laugh. “I’m the only one that’s been in them, and I changed them on Thursday.” I kind of deserved that one since I asked him the same question when we were at his apartment.
He grabs one edge of my bedspread and pulls it back, along with the top sheet.
Then he turns to me and kisses me. It’s not a playful or simple kiss. It’s full of heat and passion. He tilts his head and really goes for it, and when he pulls back, I’m breathless.
“You’ll tell me if you ever want to stop, right?” he asks.
It makes me pause. “Yes, I would.”
“Okay.”
“Why do you ask?” That was an odd question. I haven’t given him any signs that I’m not 100 percent invested in what we’re doing together.
“I dated someone once who told me that women sometimes have sex because they feel like it’s the only way to make men like them.”
“That’s sad.” But it is also true.
“She said it’s the easiest way to avoid an argument.” He kisses me again. “I don’t ever want to have sex like that,” he whispers.
“Me, either,” I whisper back.
“That’s why I said I think consent is sexy.”
“I’m not just giving you consent, Seth. I’ve given you a whole lot of goddamn enthusiasm,” I say against his lips.
He chuckles. “Good to know.” He reaches for the hem of my shirt and begins to lift it, but he stops. “Is this okay?” he asks.
I lift my arms, and he pulls my shirt over my head. The cold air in the bedroom wraps around my naked stomach, and the hair on my arms stands on end. I’m still wearing a sports bra and leggings, but I feel exposed—and strangely powerful—without my shirt.
“Lay down,” he says. “On your stomach, if you don’t mind.”
I crawl across the bed and lay on my belly, crossing my arms under my head over a pillow.
“My mom’s list said that those moments could be as simple as holding hands or going on a date night.” He climbs up and lays nearly on top of me. Then he says close to my ear, “Or a massage.”
His hands touch my shoulders as he moves to straddle my butt. His weight settles gently on me, just enough that I know he’s there. Then his hands land on my naked shoulders as he brushes my hair to the side. He begins to knead my shoulders very gently.
“Does this feel okay?” he asks softly.
“No, it doesn’t feel okay,” I admit. “It feels amazing. Don’t stop. Ever.”
He chuckles, and then he begins to work every muscle in my back. At first, I’m tense, but the longer he rubs, the more relaxed I get. I find myself yawning, and I scrub my face against the pillow, burrowing in.
“Are you still awake?” he whispers.
“Barely,” I admit.
He leans and kisses my shoulder, his mouth lingering. Then he surprises me when he nips my shoulder very gently with his teeth. He falls onto the bed next to me and rolls me so that I’m on my back, tucked against him.
“Please don’t tell me we’re done.” He nips at my lips as his hand slides across my rib cage. Then his fingers very gently lift my sports bra over my breasts. I help him by tugging it over my head. His hand lands on my left breast just as his lips dip to touch the right.
“We’re not even close to done,” he says. He covers his teeth with his lips and gently nips at my tender nipple before surprising me by sucking my nipple into his mouth. He lifts his head, growls, and kisses me with his tongue and teeth and heart. “Can I touch you?” he whispers.
“Where?” I whisper back.
The room is dark, but I can see him in the dim light cast from the open door leading into the other room. His hand slides down my belly, over the waistband of my leggings, and he settles his palm against me down there, right between my legs. He cups me over my leggings, his hand firm and warm.
“Here,” he says against my lips as he taps his fingers against my heat.
My hips rise of their own accord without any prompting at all from my brain. “Yes.”
He lifts his hand long enough to slide it under the waistband of my leggings and down under the waist of my panties, and then down, down, until his fingers tenderly part my lower lips. He uses the flat of his fingers to circle around and around, dipping his middle finger into the center of me and bringing it back up to slicken the way.
I turn toward him and press my face against the side of his neck. “Don’t stop,” I say quietly.
My heart has never beat like this. I’ve never felt like this before. “Is this still okay?” he asks. I open my eyes to find him staring at my face.
“Yes,” I say. “Please don’t stop.”
My hips rise and fall, and his hand moves; the friction just right. “I won’t stop. I promise. Not until you come.”
I press my face against him again, and when I come, my breath hitches, and a tiny whimper leaves my throat. He pushes me all the way through the quivers until my body stills, and then he pulls his hand from inside my panties and out of my leggings. But he doesn’t do what I expect with it. He cups my mound and holds his hand there, tight, as my body softens and I fall back to earth.
“Are you okay?” he asks. He kisses my cheek.
I nod, finally able to catch my breath. “I’m great.” But I suddenly feel really exposed. This feels really intimate—more intimate than I have ever been with anyone. “That was… unexpected.”
I roll onto my side, using my arm to cover my breasts. He pulls me back against him. His other hand is still tucked between my legs, and he doesn’t move it. He just holds me there, my back pressed to his front, his hand clutching me intimately.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he says quietly.
I don’t even know how to explain it. “I’ve never shared that kind of intimacy with anyone,” I admit, and my face gets hot. I’m glad to be facing away from him.
“You said you’re not a virgin,” he says, confusion lacing his words.
“I’m not, but I’ve never… felt like that. I didn’t know that happened.”
“Nobody ever made you come?” he asks, surprise lacing his words.
I shake my head, burying the side of my face against the pillow. “No, not that.” I’m not referring to the orgasm. I mean the intimacy of the moment. I take a deep breath. “That was a lot. That’s all.” I feel tears well in my eyes. I sniffle. “I just didn’t expect it to be so much.” I don’t know how to explain it.
“Are you crying?”
“No.”
“You are, too.”
“Am not.” I sniffle.
“It’s not a bad cry, right?” he asks.
“Right. It”s definitely not a bad cry. It’s a really, really good cry.” An overwhelmed, surprised cry.
Suddenly, it hits me that I just came, and he didn’t. “Do you want to finish?” I ask.
I feel his head shake from behind me. “No. Not right now.” He takes a deep breath and relaxes behind me. “Is it okay if I stay? Or do you want me to leave?”
“Please don’t leave me,” I reply. I grab his arm and tug it closer to me. “Please stay.”
“Okay,” he whispers. “I’ll stay.”
“Stay all night. Stay forever,” I murmur as sleep takes me away.
“I’ll still be here when you wake up,” he says as he holds me close.
And that’s the last thing I remember.
I wakeup to a warm body pressed against the backs of my knees. Seth. The events of the night rush at me like a freight train, and my body immediately gets warm. He feels me flinch, and his arm tightens around me, pulling me closer.
I smile.
Seth.
I never anticipated finding this with Seth, of all people.
But I did find it. And it’s real.
I wiggle my butt in his lap, and he groans, pressing his lips to my shoulder where they linger.
“Are you awake?” I whisper.
“Mm-hmm,” he hums, his lips buzzing against my shoulder. “Are you?”
“Mm-hmm,” I reply. I wiggle my butt again, and I feel the hard steel of his manhood pressed against my butt cheeks. He rocks his hips ever so slightly, and I press back into him.
“Good morning,” he says.
“Yes, it is,” I reply, a grin that he can’t even see spreading across my lips.
Last night, I’d been overwhelmed with emotion after what he’d done for me. Today, I am almost giddy at the thought of more. More what? I don’t know. Just more.
I let go of his arm, which is wrapped across my stomach, and I reach to tug the waistband of my leggings lower. “Help me,” I say when they get stuck.
He grabs the waistband and lowers it over my ass, shoving it until the leggings are tangled around my knees. I don’t even try to shove them lower because this feels urgent, and taking them off would take too long.
I reach back, dip into his boxers, which he apparently slept in, and take his manhood in my hand. I run my hand up and down the hard steel of him, feeling the slippery slide of his pre-come as it paints the back of my arm.
“Jesus,” he whispers.
“Take your pants off,” I say quietly, but it sounds like a bomb in the room where the only sounds are our panting breaths.
“You don’t have to,” he starts.
“Seth, I’m not going to beg you to fuck me.”
I feel him adjust and assume that he’s pushing his boxers down, and then he rolls back like he’s reaching for something on the floor. The keys in his jeans jingle as he reaches back, picks up his pants, searches the pockets, and then rolls back toward me.
“Are you sure?” he asks. He nips at my shoulder with his teeth.
I hear the rip of the condom wrapper, and the bed jostles as he quickly adjusts to roll it on. Then he’s behind me.
He hesitates, taking a deep breath that I can feel against my ear.
I reach back, grab him, and notch the tip of his dick right between the legs. When he doesn’t move, I push my ass back, and he slides in. Just the tip to start. He cups my breast in his hand as he stays there, barely inside me, making me crazy with need. I slide back and down, taking a little more of him. In this position, with my legs trapped, the fit is tight, and he slips inside. The stretch of it lets me know he’s there.
“This okay?” he asks as he slides slowly inside me.
“Yes,” I say. I kiss the inside of his wrist, which is under my head by my pillow. The other pinches my nipple, and I cry out.
He slides home. I am wet from when he made me come before, and he doesn’t meet any resistance. When his lap meets my ass, he lifts one cheek of my ass, and he slides in farther.
“I don’t know if I can…” he begins, but then he bites it off with a moan as I bite his inner arm and hold the tender flesh of his wrist in my teeth. “God,” he says, but it’s more of a moan as he starts to move.
He lifts my leg as high as it can go since it’s still wrapped in my leggings, and he slides in a little more. All the way in. All the way out. Slow strokes that fill me completely. When he can’t move my leg any higher, he growls, stops moving, and pulls my top leg out of my leggings, leaving the other wrapped in fabric. He lifts my leg and surges hard. The slap, slap, slap of his belly against my ass is hard in the room.
I make a noise, and he pulls out long enough to get up on his knees, push one leg toward the head of the bed, and then he’s back inside me. His movements are quick, quick, quick, and I can barely breathe because of how good it feels.
“I can’t,” he says. “Jesus. Please.”
He lifts my top leg and moves it to the other side, opening me wide, and he looks down between us. He leans forward, putting his weight on me as he kisses me. His thumb begins a slow slide around my clit as his hips pump slowly, circling, stretching me as he moves. “Too tight,” he whispers.
I take his face in my hands and bite at his lips. He dodges me, laughing. “You are not helping.”
He lifts my leg and pushes it closer to my body, resting my foot on his shoulder. And the angle—the angle is just right. My body tightens, and then I come apart. I break. He shoves deep, so deep inside me that it hurts in the best possible way, as he comes too. He doesn’t stop moving. He makes tiny jabs inside me as the clenching stops, and I relax. I go limp. I want to reach for him, but my arms are too tired.
He collapses on top of me, sliding out at the same time. I’m so sensitive that it hurts when he retreats. I whimper. He kisses my cheek. I open my eyes to find him staring at me with a smile on his face. “You came like crazy,” he says. He grins. Then he kisses the tip of my nose and falls down next to me. I can’t move because he’s laying on my leggings, which are still tied around my calf. He sits up and untangles me. Then he walks into the bathroom and comes back a minute later. He reaches for me, and I don’t hesitate to roll toward him, completely naked and 100 percent unashamed. He’s still wearing a t-shirt, so I tug it until he understands that I want it off.
“I knew it would be like that,” he says quietly as he pulls me to rest naked against his chest.
“How did you know?” I ask. I tip my face to look at him. He’s smiling bigger than ever.
“I just did,” he says as he hugs me to him.
A few minutes later, he reaches for his jeans on the floor again, pulls me on top of him, and shows me that it wasn’t a one-off.