11. Astrid
eleven
Astrid
The Next Morning
“ Relax. Let yourself be loved .”
Brennan whispered these words to me on round three, or maybe it was round four. Now, it’s on a loop in my head.
His face is currently buried in my pussy, soulful eyes peer up at me as he flicks his tongue back and forth over my clit. His fingers pump in and out, persistently stroking my G-spot.
I’ve come so much over the past twelve hours, I’ve lost count. Everything I thought I loved about sex is out the window. The things Brennan has done to my body have exceeded anything I’ve experienced by tenfold. In fact, I can’t even remember making love to anyone but him.
“Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.” I buck against his mouth. “I’m coming. Ahhhhhh . Oh shit. Ahhhhh .”
My heels dig into the mattress as, once again, my body gives in. My arm flops over my eyes. I’m spent. Every nerve ending in my pussy is so over-sensitized, but I’m not gonna make him stop. It’s too mind-blowing. I’m addicted to this.
Brennan crawls up my body and settles in beside me. His arm slips around my waist as he pulls me close, chin resting lightly on my shoulder. I feel his breath soft against my skin.
He doesn’t say a word, but the way his hand traces gentle circles on my back makes me feel like he’s holding all the broken parts of me together without even realizing it. In his arms, the world fades away, and I feel whole—safe, cared for, and completely loved.
I’ve never been with a man who gives more than he takes.
If I’m not careful, I’ll get used to this.
His monster cock digs into my hip. There’s no way I can fuck him again because I’m sore and stretched and satiated. I want Brennan to feel the same way.
Skimming my hand down his thigh, I grip him, still fascinated at how extraordinarily huge he is. The man has a mythical unicorn cock and he knows precisely how to use it. “I’m not usually into giving head but I want to taste you. Will you show me how you like it?”
“Uh…” His breath catches. “You think I’d say no?”
If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t offer. I’ve never been a fan of sucking cock because past boyfriends expect it. I hate it when guys want to fuck your face and make you gag. It’s not for me. With Brennan, though, I think it’ll be different.
“Good. Let me taste you.” I swear his dick jolts at my offer. I stroke up and down his shaft and bend down and guide his tip to my lips. “Just don’t choke me, I’m not a fan.”
“I wouldn’t.” Brennan caresses the back of my head as he rolls onto his back.
My lips stretch around his girth and my tongue swirls around tentatively. He tastes a bit sweet, a bit salty and…clean. There’s no funk or unpleasant bitterness. Hmmm. I like this. I hollow my cheeks out and suction all around him.
When he pulls out abruptly, it takes me by surprise. “I’m sorry, I’m not very good at this.”
“Are you fucking serious?” He tips my chin up to look at him. “If you suck me again, I’m gonna blow.”
“So, you liked it?” I rest my head against his hand, still fondling his gorgeous cock.
He strokes my cheek. “No. I loved it. I’d be embarrassed to tell you the number of times I’ve fantasized about it.”
My pussy clenches. He fantasized about me? Multiple times?
All I want to do now is make his fantasy a reality. I guide him back into my mouth, keeping eye contact while I experiment. Sucking. Licking. Swirling. Different pressure. Fast and wet. Slow and gentle. I’m so into this. Watching his every reaction. Each sigh. Groan. Wince. We’re connected so intently, like nothing I’ve ever allowed myself to experience.
“I’ve held back as long as I can, A. I’m gonna come.” He taps my shoulder but it’s too late. “Sorry. Aghhhhh .”
Brennan’s hips buck into my mouth and his creamy ejaculation coats my tongue and slides down my throat. I swallow it all and savor every salty-sweet drop. I’m proud. It’s me who’s made him feel such intense pleasure.
His eyes are slack with happiness as he watches me suck lightly on his crown. One finger twirls a lock of my hair, the other caresses my cheek.
It’s clear how much I’ve pleased him.
God, this is everything I’ve always wanted.
Stop it. Don’t get ahead of yourself.
When he eventually softens, I climb back up and he lifts his arm so I can slip in against his side. His chest rises and falls steadily as his breathing returns to normal. There’s something lingering in the air—unspoken, but tangible.
We’ve been up all night exploring each other’s bodies with abandon, not taking time to overthink. The shift from friends to lovers is unfolding in real-time.
It’s a lot to process.
“I’ve wanted you for so long. I don’t think you have any idea.” Brennan breaks the silence. The vulnerability in his words makes my heart swell.
I lift my head to look at him, surprised by the way his eyes seem to reflect every truth we’ve danced around for the past year. “I wasn’t sure,” I admit. My fingers trace small, absent patterns on his chest. “I really thought you wanted to stay friends. Well, and business partners.”
“Ah.” He laughs softly, although he clearly doesn’t believe me. “I do want to stay friends. I’ve also wanted to see you naked since high school. I didn’t think I hid it very well.” He pauses, his eyes searching mine. “Truthfully, I wasn’t sure how to make a move. Back then, you didn’t see me, let alone see me as an option. I’m not very smooth with the ladies as I’m sure you’ve gleaned.”
The admission catches me off guard, and I feel a pang of guilt. He’s not wrong. Other than the fleeting memories of him in a general sense, I didn’t pay attention to him, let alone consider him as a potential boyfriend. I was too wrapped up in trying to be someone I wasn’t.
“I didn’t and it’s my loss.” I run my thumb along his lips. “I spent my energy pretending to be perfect when I was far from it. Hanging out with people who I thought were aspirational. I’m not so na?ve these days.”
He holds my gaze, the silence between us thick with memories. “You’re not pretending with me now?”
“Of course not. I’m not that girl.” I shift in his arms, loving the warmth of his body pressed against mine. Also, not loving he had to ask if this was make-believe after my epic blowjob—actions speak louder than words, after all.
He nods slightly. “I never thought you were that girl. You had substance and beauty.”
Something in his expression makes me pause. Brennan is special. Insightful. There’s no way I’m going to play with his heart. It’s time. There’s no point in delaying it one second longer. “When I reached out to you, do you remember I mentioned I have something of yours?”
“Yeah.” Curiosity flickers behind Brennan’s eyes. “I’ve wondered if and when you’d get around to telling me what it is.” He winks. “Or, if it was a ploy to have sex with me.”
“My God, of course it was the sex. Why’d you hold out so long?” I flick his nipple and sit up. “It’s nothing crazy,” I tease, sliding out of bed and opening up a dresser drawer. “But I think you’ll appreciate having it back.”
Brennan watches me curiously as I rummage through my things. My heart beats a little faster when I locate the small, worn notebook. The cover is battered, the edges are frayed, but it’s still intact. I return to bed and climb in and hand it to him, watching as his eyes widen. His fingers trace the worn cover.
“No way.” He sucks a breath in as he turns it over in his hands. “I thought I’d lost this years ago.”
“You did.” I nestle against him. “Jake took it from your desk in class. He thought it would be funny to embarrass you, maybe read something out loud. I couldn’t let him be so cruel to a guy who never did anything to deserve it.”
Brennan’s jaw clenches and he looks a bit strange, but his focus remains on the notebook. Like he doesn’t want to look me in the eye. “You kept it? Did you read it?”
“I did.” I feel a bit exposed. “I mean, I kept it. No. I’ve never looked inside. Or read it. Part of me figured there was something private in it. Something important you might not want to share.”
He opens the notebook, flipping to the first page, and I see his expression soften. He shows it to me. It’s like a journal entry. Personal and, in fact, private. His teenage handwriting fills the page, and for a moment, we both sit in the quiet, letting the weight of the past settle between us as we read the words.
I don’t think anyone sees Astrid the way I do. She walks around with this perfect smile, always laughing with everyone, but when no one’s paying attention, she pulls away. She sits by the window at lunch sometimes, staring out like she wishes she were somewhere else. Everyone thinks she’s got it all together, but I can tell she’s pretending. It’s like she’s hiding something, maybe from herself, too.
Somehow I don’t think she’s truly the version of herself everyone else sees. She’s too smart. Too kind. She’s not only beautiful, she’s thoughtful. She notices things, reads between the lines, even if no one realizes it. I wish I had the guts to tell her. But someone like her? She’d never look twice at me.
“You wrote about me.” I’m blown away. I watch his eyes scan the words again. “You noticed things about me no one else did. Things I didn’t even notice about myself, but you were accurate.”
Brennan closes the notebook, looking a bit sheepish. “Well, I wrote what I saw. You’re so perfect on the outside. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, but your looks aren’t why I had a crush on you. It’s your heart. The depth to your character you were afraid to show anyone. Unfortunately, I wasn’t blessed with the Irish charm my brothers have. I didn’t have any confidence to talk to you.”
“I can’t believe it.” I swallow hard to keep from crying. He’s touched me to the core. “You saw the real me. The girl I was hiding from everyone else. And I never realized.”
He gulps. “Confession time. I watched you a lot. Followed you, even. Not in a weird, stalkery way. Cillian found this notebook and told me I needed to stop. He was worried I’d scare you.”
“You followed me? Where?” I guess I should feel a little strange, but somehow his revelation is endearing.
He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. “I know where your parents live. That you slipped through the fence to catch the bus. You worked at a grocery store and thrifted all your clothes.” He opens his eyes to catch me staring at him, mouth agape. “Look, really. I was harmless. When I get focused on something, it’s hard for me to, um, snap out of it. Kill—that’s what we call Cillian--caught on and set me straight. I’d never want you to feel afraid of me.”
“I don’t, B.” I stroke his chin. “I never knew. I think it’s sweet.”
We sit there in the stillness, the notebook resting between us, and I realize how much we’ve both changed. Brennan isn’t the strange boy from high school anymore, and I’m not the girl pretending to have it all together. We’re here now on the brink of something monumental. After all these years. Seeing each other fully for who we are at our core.
He gathers me back into his arms and I feel like I’m where I belong. Whatever happens next, we’re not the same people we were before.
Brennan’s words from earlier come back to me, “ Let yourself be loved .”
At the time, I thought he meant to relax, to stop overthinking while he was giving me orgasm after orgasm. Now, after seeing the notebook, I think I misunderstood. Tonight was never about sex. It’s about connection. Being real. He already knows my vulnerabilities I thought were carefully kept hidden.
So no, he wasn’t asking me to let go physically, he was asking me to let him in. Completely.
I think I can do this.
It feels like fate, being here together.
Like we’re right where we belong.