12. Savanna
Savanna
Iclose the album that houses all of the worst photos I’ve ever taken and grab Niki’s hand, pulling him down the hall and towards the stairs that lead up to my old room.
It’s obvious he doesn’t think this is the wisest idea, and he’s right, it probably isn’t, but I want him to see it.
I’d also like a few precious minutes to make out with my boyfriend.
Tugging him along, I lead him to the last door on the right and step inside, flicking on the light as I go.
My parents haven’t changed anything, and when Niki sees all my childhood memorabilia, he steps further in so he can get a better look.
I brought a lot of stuff with me to the sorority house, but there are still a ton of things filling the space.
His fingers trail along the books I couldn’t fit in my current bookshelves and the rabbit figurines I’ve been collecting since I was little.
“I had no idea you liked rabbits,” he says, and he almost sounds sad, like it’s a detail he should already know about me.
“I think they’re really cute, especially the droopy-ear kind, but this collection started because I loved Easter.
I’d always get so excited, more than even at Christmas.
I just loved the idea of a giant rabbit hopping to my house to leave me a basket of goodies,” I tell him with a laugh.
“That was so much cooler to me than an old man breaking into the house. My mom started the collection when I was five, and she still gives me a new one every year.”
His fingers run over one of the bunny figurines, the one that’s wearing little blue overalls and carrying an armload of carrots, and I see the corner of his mouth lift up.
“My parents love you, by the way, just like I knew they would.”
He turns away from my collection so he can face me. “I’m really glad they do. They’re great, Van. I really like them, too.”
I take a step closer and fist his shirt, pulling him up against me. “I brought you up here for selfish reasons,” I admit.
“Oh yeah?”
I give my old full-size bed with the pink comforter a pointed look. “I’m fulfilling a teenage fantasy, Niki.”
“And what fantasy would that be?”
Sliding my hands under his hoodie, I grip his toned waist and take a step back, bringing him with me. “The one where I make out with an insanely hot, tattooed guy in my bedroom.”
He keeps a straight face when he asks, “You didn’t get to do that in high school?”
“We didn’t attend the same school, so, no, I didn’t get to.” When the backs of my legs hit my bed, I grin at him.
“Your parents might decide they no longer like me if they walk in and find me on top of their daughter.”
“My parents know better than to come up here right now,” I say.
He glances at the door, debating the pros and cons of my plan. After a few seconds he gives a resigned sigh and steps away so he can quietly shut my door.
“That just makes us look more guilty,” I tell him.
“I don’t care. I’ll never be able to face them again if they hear you moaning.”
I perk up at that. “Will I be moaning?”
He walks back, looking hungrier with every step he takes, and when he’s right in front of me again, he leans down, so I’m forced to lie back.
His hands are planted on either side of me, his strong body hovering over mine, and I wish I could go back in time and tell my teenage self about this.
She’d be really fucking excited to know this moment was in our future.
“I’m assuming your teenage fantasy involved you coming,” he murmurs while he leans closer and kisses his way along my jaw.
“It did,” I quickly say, “and a tremendous amount of sex.”
He chuckles and nips at my ear. “I can’t give you that right now, but maybe I can give you something else.”
“Like what?” My voice is a breathy whisper as he sucks on my neck.
“This,” he says, and then slowly drags his tongue along my skin.
“Oh Jesus,” I moan, already feeling the pressure start to build in my body. “Are you serious?” I ask.
“If you’ll let me,” he says in between soft kisses and sucks that threaten to undo me right here and now.
I’m already trying to undo my pants when I nod and say, “Yes, please.” I feel the soft huff of air against my wet skin when he hears my excitement. “This is one of the top five things on my life list.”
“What a coincidence.” He lifts up to give me a grin. “Me too.”
Since we’re working against the clock, he helps me tug down my jeans and panties, and then he kneels next to the bed and stares at me. His eyes slowly run over my freshly shaved skin, and the look he’s giving me is nothing short of adoration.
“I will never get used to how beautiful you are, Van. Every time I see you, it knocks me on my ass.” He runs his hands up my thighs before tugging me closer and then slowly spreading my knees apart so I’m completely exposed to him.
“I don’t deserve you,” he says and then lowers his head to kiss a slow line up my thigh. I reach down and run my fingers through his thick, dark hair, loving the way the soft strands feel.
“I feel the same way about you,” I tell him, but he shakes his head and then licks a line up the crease of my thigh, making me shiver at the feel of him. He’s so close to the ache that’s growing bigger with each passing second.
He stops, hovering his mouth over the spot he just licked, letting me feel the heat of his breath. “I’ll never understand how that’s possible.” His lips briefly meet my skin again. “I need you to tell me what feels good, Van. I want this to feel good for you, and I’ve never done this before.”
“You seem to be a natural, Niki,” I tell him, thinking about the first time we made each other come in my room.
He kisses me again, this time leaving a trail along my hip before slowly making his way in between my legs.
“This seems like it might be a little more intricate than just grinding against you,” he whispers against my skin.
“I want to make sure I get it right.” His nose nuzzles between my thighs as he spreads my legs even wider, giving a deep, masculine groan at what he sees.
I feel the heat of his breath against my sex right before he gives me a very soft, delicate lick.
The noise I make is one I’ve never made before, and I’d be embarrassed if I wasn’t so consumed with the need to feel more.
“Do that again,” I beg while my fingers thread even deeper into his hair.
“This?” he asks and then licks me from bottom to top again, this time hard enough to sink inside just a tiny bit.
“Fuck, Van, you taste so goddamn good. Why did I start this right now?” I feel his tongue flick against a spot that’s so sensitive I arch my hips and bite my tongue to keep from crying out.
“I want hours between your legs.” He kisses every spot his tongue just touched, and the alternating sensations nearly do me in.
“Days,” he corrects. “I want days with nothing to eat but your sweet pussy.”
If I could form words, I’d tell him I think his plan is perfect and we should definitely make that a reality, but his mouth makes it impossible to form coherent thoughts.
I’m hoping he can decipher the whimpers and moans that are slipping out before I can stop them and understand what I’m trying to say.
His fingers dig into the flesh of my thighs, holding me tighter as his mouth turns hungrier, kissing and licking and sucking until my body starts to shake and I have to clamp a hand over my mouth to hold back the scream I want to give.
I feel his tongue slip inside me, fucking me in slow, languid strokes that have my inner walls clenching with the need to be filled.
He must feel me, because he lets out another deep groan before kissing his way up my lips.
When he latches onto my clit, my body explodes with a fierceness that takes me by surprise.
My muffled screams fill my old bedroom, and when he slides one hand up my stomach, I quickly grab it, grasping onto it while wave after wave of pleasure consumes me.
The feel of him, his mouth on the most vulnerable part of my body, his large hand in mine, it’s what keeps me anchored.
It’s what I hold onto and what I lose myself in, knowing I’m completely safe as long as I’m with him.
When I can speak again, the first thing to leave my lips is his name. The next thing is the I love you that I’ve been feeling but have been too scared to say. The orgasm demolished my filter, and the words come tumbling out before I can stop them.
I feel him freeze between my legs, and then I tense, panic racing through me, terrified that I’ve just ruined everything, but instead of running away or looking scared, he gives me another soft kiss and says, “Say it again, Van. Please, say it again.”
“I love you.”
He gives me another long lick, cleaning me of my release and then swallowing it down with a satisfied groan.
Lifting up, he slowly kisses a line along my lower stomach to where I’m still gripping his hand.
He stops just long enough to brush his lips against my fingers, kissing each one before scooting up so his body is hovering over mine again.
“I didn’t mean to just blurt that out,” I say while he threads his fingers in my hair.
“Did you just say it because the orgasm was that amazing?” he asks. There’s a slight grin playing at his lips, but I can tell he’s desperate to hear my answer.
“No, I mean, it was amazing and that drunk on pleasure feeling certainly helped loosen my tongue, but that’s not the only reason I said it. I know it’s fast, but I also know what I’m feeling. I just didn’t want to scare you off.”
“You could never scare me away.” The pad of his thumb strokes my cheek, and the caress is so soft and sweet that it makes me want to wrap my arms around him and never let go, because to me this man is perfect, and I know I’ll never meet anyone else like him.
No one will ever make me feel the way that he does.
“I love you too, Van.”
“Really? You don’t have to say it just because I did.”