Chapter 44
Josephine
I leave Locke’s room after a few hours, closing the door behind me as he gently snores. It doesn’t count as sneaking out if I know I’ll see him in the morning, right?
My head’s fuzzy, like I’m still drifting in a post-orgasm haze, even though it’s been hours since he made me come. This week has just been… a lot. I need to figure my shit out, and fast.
Being with Locke felt so good and so right. We click. Every touch lights me up, and from the moment we met, we’ve had no trouble falling into a rhythm with one another. He’s effervescent happiness. There’s a brightness to him that I swear makes me feel lighter.
As I creep down the quiet hallway, I have every intention of going to my room, but my feet carry me past the door and to the end of the hall. And without conscious thought, I find myself climbing the stairs to the Nest.
I knock quietly, but there’s no response from the inside. I think it’s okay that I’m here. He would lock the door if he wanted privacy, right?
I enter the now familiar space and scan the dark room. The LEDs smoothly transition from red to blue to purple, the changing colors soothing in an inexplicable way. The Nest has become my comfort. An escape. It’s peaceful in a way no place has ever felt before.
When my eyes land on Kylian, where he’s lying on his bed, it hits me. It’s not the physical space that feels like a balm to my soul; it’s him.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” he tells me without preamble.
That’s Kylian. He says what he means, and he means what he says. I never have to guess or decode his words. He is who he is. And because of that, I can be the realest version of myself when I’m with him.
He shifts over and holds out an arm, inviting me to join him.
I shuffle closer, then climb up and cuddle into his side. We both wiggle and rearrange until we’re comfortable. Without prompting, Kylian holds out noise-canceling earbuds.
I used his during the storm after the first game a few weeks ago. A few days later, a second pair appeared. This man. He anticipated that there may be a time we both need them. He expects that I’ll be a regular visitor in his private space.
I don’t want to be trapped in silence with my own thoughts right now, though, so I shake my head at his offer. He rolls over and stretches out, and when he settles again, he offers me a different kind of earbud instead.
The song he cues up is slow and sultry. A duet I’ve never heard before. He’s got it on repeat, and by the third time through, I hum along with the chorus.
My body settles, and my brain slows. Comfort and ease cocoon me. I reach for him, rolling to my side and nestling my head into the space between his arm and his chest.
He plays with my hair as I listen to the song and watch him breathe. His touch is methodical and repetitive. Soft strokes that soothe me until I’m half asleep in his arms.
“You look guilty and you smell like sex.”
It’s not a question. It’s not an accusation, either. It’s just the facts.
“Kylian, I…”
Fuck. Should I apologize? For what, exactly? For having sex with his childhood best friend? For crawling into his bed a few hours later? For not having the gumption to figure out where things stand between us?
Stop it, I silently admonish. I’m not going to slut shame myself. I love sex. We used protection. I don’t have to ask permission to have consensual relations with another adult.
Taking a deep breath, I change course.
“Is that a problem for you?”
He doesn’t respond right away, and the silence impels me to ask another question in hopes of a response.
“I can go back downstairs if you’d like.”
“Based on my research, most females don’t have a refractory period. Is that the case for you?”
I choke in surprise, then prop up on my elbow to get a look at his face.
There’s no doubt he’s serious. His eyes are full of heat. Of wanton, carnal desire.
“Why do you—”
“Answer me, Jo.” He tips my chin up with the touch of two fingers. “Can you orgasm multiple times in one night?”
“I can,” I answer tentatively, my heart in my throat.
“Good. Because I’ve been dreaming about making you come again. Except this time there’ll be far less clothing between us, and I plan to use my mouth instead of a toy.”
Before I can even reply, he pounces. Flipping our positions and cradling my head, Kylian kisses along my chest.
He’s been dreaming? I’m living in a dream state right now. Except it isn’t right to let him continue without being explicitly clear.
“Kylian,” I pant, gripping the hair at his nape to pull him off.
But then he sucks on the skin below my ear, and all lucid thoughts leave my brain.
On a groan, I remember what I needed to say.
“Just so we’re clear,” I breathe, “I had sex with someone else a few hours ago.”
“I know,” he says evenly, running his nose along my neck and dipping his head low enough to lick my cleavage. He inhales deeply, then he moans. “Locke, by the smell of it.”
Holy shit. He can smell him on me? And how does he know what Locke smells like?
“You got to experience his pubic piercing, didn’t you, baby?” he whispers in my ear. “I bet your clit’s so swollen and tender now. Engorged and needy and ready for me.”
Sitting back on his knees abruptly, he waves a hand at my torso.
“Take that off,” he demands, clearly referring to the oversized T-shirt and shorts I stole from his friend. With one hand, he pulls his shirt over his head in a fluid motion that’s so sexy it should be illegal. I squirm just from the sight of him as my cunt pulses with need.
I’m naked a moment later.
Kylian situates himself so that my bent legs rest on his bare stomach.
“Spread your legs and let me see you, Jo.”
I do as he says, pulling in a deep breath when he smooths both hands along my inner thighs.
He murmurs, “Good girl,” and my hips buck up as if my cunt has a mind of her own.
“I can’t wait to taste you,” he says as he lowers his mouth toward my center.
“Wait.” I don’t want him to stop. But I have to make sure he understands. “I-I didn’t shower or clean up yet. We used a condom, but you might…taste him… down there. That doesn’t bother you?”
Kylian hitches one eyebrow and smirks. “Baby, tasting him on you makes this even hotter. Stop worrying and let me work. No more talking. Unless you want to scream my name or tell me you’re coming.”
And that’s that. There’s no room for doubt where Kylian’s concerned.
I banish all errant worries and prickles of shame from my mind, settling into his sheets and letting the safety and warmth of the Nest cocoon me.
Another kind of warmth very quickly builds.
“How many times did he make you come?” Kylian asks, flicking his tongue over my clit, then licking me from my taint to my pubic bone.
He latches on to my clit and sucks so hard my toes dig into the mattress.
“Once,” I pant, barely able to get the word out as I writhe on the edge of orgasm.
A moment later, there’s tension coursing up my legs, and a tightness furling in my core.
Another lick, and I’m done.
Spasms of pleasure roll through me like shock waves as I cry out and thrust against Kylian’s face. My pussy can’t get enough of him; I crave more pressure.
“That’s one,” he mutters, nipping at my clit with his teeth before spearing me with his tongue and swirling it around my opening to lap up my pleasure.
I don’t have time to process his words—or even stop pulsating from my orgasm—before he slips a finger inside and curls it upward.
His mouth is back on my clit a moment later, the combined sensations both overstimulating and somehow not enough.
“More,” I pant, clawing at his sheets, desperate to gain traction against his face.
Fuck. He feels so good. I want to get lost in him. I want to get him off, too.
“Kylian,” I beg, staving off the pleasure that’s coiling down my spine. “I want more.”
He peers up at me from between my legs—fuck, that’s so hot—and gives me the most wicked smirk.
“I’m not fucking you tonight,” he declares. With anyone else, I would argue. Mouth off. Demand explanation.
But Kylian is black and white. I don’t have to doubt anything or try to read between the lines. His dissent is clear. I can accept that.
“Harder, then,” I counter. “Rougher.”
“You want more, baby?”
His voice is pure sex.
I eagerly nod.
“My girl wants it hard.” He thrusts two fingers into me. “And rough.” He bites down on my clit, causing pleasure and pain to swirl into the perfect storm of tension.
“Yes,” I moan, writhing against his hand and face. “Please, Kylian.”
He hums against my center. “You’re so needy. Such a filthy, needy girl, getting fucked by my best friend, then coming up here begging for me to give you more.”
He licks me again, adds a third finger, then somehow adds a thumb to the mix to create the perfect amount of pressure against my clit.
Holy. Shit.
“Yes,” I mewl. “Please, Daddy. Please.”
Oh. Holy shit. For real this time. Where the hell did that come from?
Kylian pauses and sits back on his knees, but his fingers remain firmly on their target.
“Say it again,” he demands.
“Daddy,” I whimper without overthinking. “Please, Daddy. I need you.”
He whistles. “Yep. That’ll do it. New kink unlocked.” Then he dives back down between my legs, closes his mouth around my pussy and clit, and sucks so hard I buck up and almost dislodge him.
Without missing a beat, he wraps his free arm around my waist, positioning me perfectly.
He alternates sucking and biting, each graze of his teeth against my clit growing harder in intensity.
I can hear my arousal as he works his fingers in and out of my body.
He hums against me, and that’s all it takes.
I explode into a million little fragments.
Each piece scatters across the universe as he laps at me.
Kylian kisses my pussy, my belly, my thighs—worshipping my body as I come down from my post-orgasm daze.
Eventually, he crawls up the bed and flops down beside me, turning and hitting me with a shit-eating grin. Or would it be a pussy-eating grin?
“And that’s two,” he declares.
Victorious.
I snuggle up and nuzzle into his chest, sated and boneless in all the best ways.
“I didn’t know you were so competitive,” I tease, kissing his chest and melting into him. I know he doesn’t sleep well if I’m draped all over him, but I can’t resist a good post-orgasm cuddle.
He strokes my hair, then snags a water bottle from the nightstand and hands it to me. “Just because I sit on the sidelines at the games doesn’t mean I’m not going to play to win in the bedroom, Jo.”
There’s a hint of teasing in his tone. But there’s a bite to his words, too.
And that bite makes me go rigid. Because maybe there’s more truth to his declaration than I previously considered.
“Is that how this is going to end?” I ask, slightly panicked. “Between you and Locke… or whoever,” I add, wincing. “Someone will be declared the winner?”
Kylian is quiet, and when I tip my head back to search his face, he’s wearing a slight frown that’s more thoughtful than upset. He meets my gaze and goes back to stroking my head.
“I think that’s up to you. As weird as it sounds, we work well together. We’ve always been a team. I don’t know how this’ll play out; I just know I’m in.”