Chapter 4 #2
“Oh—” The sound slips out as I grip the edge of the table, holding myself back from all-out riding Jay's face.
He hums underneath the tape, the vibration adding another layer to it, and then he does it again—slow, controlled, unrelenting. The scrape of tape, the press of his face, the way he refuses to rush any part of it. He keeps me right there, suspended, every nerve firing.
My hips start to move on their own. Small at first. Then more urgently. I try to line myself up the way I want, chasing pressure, chasing release.
That's when he pushes my skirt up to my midriff and then he slides his hands down my thighs, his thumbs resting next to his face.
And right next to where I need him most.
His thumbs stroke my sensitive skin, never quite getting to the place I need him the most, though.
When they stop moving, I groan out in frustration.
Close. They were so close to touching me.
I'm breathing heavily above him, staring at my tape job before I drop my head to see what he's doing.
That's when I realize what he’s waiting for. He wants me to choose this. With him.
“Jay,” I breathe.
His thumb slowly strokes my skin, but they don't move in. I want them to so badly.
I shift again, trying to guide them to where I want him, but they somehow always miss.
“Don’t—” I swallow hard, knowing what this means. I'm letting him win. I tried to play his game and I lost. He didn't have to say anything at all and I still fell for it.
Still, that self-awareness doesn’t take away from the fact that I need him right now.
“Don’t stop,” I whisper.
He pushes my panties to the side, exposing my wet center. The cool air makes me gasp, the contrast sharp and immediate.
His mouth, tape and all, is on me again. My eyes roll to the back of my head, the sensation overwhelming.
The way his thumbs open me up, the rough drag of the tape against my clit, his nose circling my center.
I want more. Desperately.
That's when his fingers move, sliding through the wetness before circling my clit.
His tongue works against the adhesive, creating friction exactly where I need it, and my hips jerk forward involuntarily.
I start to rock against his face, grinding down against his taped mouth, and the friction is unreal. The tape adds this texture, this resistance, and every time he presses harder, I see stars.
He's making sounds beneath me—muffled groans that vibrate through the tape, through me—and somehow that makes it hotter. The fact that he can't speak. Can't tell me what he wants. Can only use his mouth to please me while I use him exactly how I need.
“That's it,” I breathe, rocking harder. “Just like—fuck—”
When he pushes two fingers inside me, I nearly scream.
“Jay—”
He pumps his fingers in time with the movement of his mouth, and I'm completely lost. Grinding down on his face, riding his fingers, chasing an orgasm that's building so fast I can barely breathe.
The tape is wet now, clinging to his mouth, and somehow that's even more obscene. More desperate. More wrong in a way that makes it feel so fucking right.
“I'm—oh God—” My voice is high, breathy, nothing like myself. “I'm gonna—”
He curls his fingers inside me, finding that spot that makes everything go white, and I shatter.
The orgasm rips through me like a wave. My thighs clamp around his head, my hands slam against the wall, and I come so hard I forget my own name. Wave after wave crashes over me, and he doesn't stop. He keeps working his mouth and his fingers until I'm shaking and gasping and oversensitive.
When I finally come down, I'm trembling all over, filled with an entirely different r emotion.
Dread.
What the fuck did I just do?
I climb off him on unsteady legs, my face burning with a combination of residual pleasure and dawning horror. My skirt is bunched around my waist. My underwear is twisted and damp. My ponytail has completely fallen apart.
I look like exactly what I am: someone who just rode her patient's face in the training room.
Jay is still lying on the table, the tape askew and wet over his mouth, watching me with dark, satisfied eyes. He reaches up and peels the tape off slowly, wincing slightly as the adhesive releases.
“Ally—”
“Don't.” I hold up a hand, yanking my skirt down with the other. “Don't say anything.”
“But—”
“This was a mistake.” My voice is shaking. Everything is shaking. “This was—I shouldn't have—we can't—” I'm grabbing my things now, shoving supplies into my bag with trembling hands.
He sits up, and I take a step back, not wanting to be anywhere near him right now. Who knows what stupid thing I'll do next.
“It wasn't a mistake,” he says quietly.
“Yes, it was.” I spin to face him, my eyes burning with tears I refuse to let fall. “I just—on your face—in the training room—”
“Yeah.” His mouth curves. “It was fucking incredible.”
“It was unprofessional!” I take a deep breath before calmly saying, “We're going to pretend this never happened, and you're going to find another therapist, and—”
“I'm not finding another therapist.”
“You have to.”
“No.” He slides off the table, his mouth red raw from the tape, or my pussy.
I don't know which. “I don't want another therapist. I want you.
Frankly, I've wanted you for three years,” he says softly.
“And you just came on my face while I couldn't even use my mouth properly. Imagine what I could do without the tape.”
The confession stops me cold.
He takes a step closer, and I don't move away. Can't move away. My legs have apparently forgotten how to function.
Oh God.
Oh God.
This is not good at all.
“I have to go.” I grab my bag and practically sprint for the door. “Your tape—the actual tape—is fine. Don't remove it until your next session.”
“Ally—”
“Same time Thursday.” I fumble with the door handle, my hands shaking too badly to cooperate. “And we're never speaking of this again.”
I finally get the door open and flee into the hallway, my heart pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears.
Behind me, I hear his voice, low and amused and way too confident:
“Whatever you say, Hart.”
I don't look back.
I can't.
Because if I do, I might turn around. Might walk back into that room and let him do everything he was just talking about. Might throw away my entire future for a guy with blue eyes and a smart mouth and hands that know exactly where to touch me.