Chapter 31 Twenty years old #3
I shiver beneath his touch as he slowly unclasps my bra and runs his hands over my breasts.
I shouldn’t be surprised when Sam touches me exactly the way I like, even though it’s been two years since we last did this.
It’s like his body has stayed in tune with mine despite the distance.
He knows the pressure I like, the ways to drive me wild.
It’s the perfect type of torture. He runs his hands down my sides before palming my breasts again.
My eyes shut; this feels so right. His hands slide down to my hips, and every inch of skin he passes is seared with heat.
“More,” I tell him.
“Can I be rougher?” he asks.
“Please,” I beg, and he grips my hips tightly enough to mark.
“I missed this freckle.” He kisses the freckle on my right breast before pulling my nipple into his mouth. I think I whimper. Or maybe it’s more of a moan. My legs are beginning to feel shaky standing here at the edge of the mattress bracketed by his thighs.
Suddenly he pulls me down and flips us, pushing my back down onto the bed and slowly working his way down my body, hands and lips everywhere.
I lose myself in the sensation, gasping as he slowly pulls my underwear down and then slides his fingers through the wetness pooling at my core.
He blows a breath onto my centre, and I bow off the bed.
Within moments I have no thoughts, only feelings. The feeling of his tongue circling, of him slowly sliding his finger in and out of me.
“I remember when we first did this,” he says, watching me squirm. “You’re just as responsive as you were then.”
He grips my legs, forcing them to stay open even as I reflexively clamp them around him. He nips at my inner thigh, hard enough to sting, but not to hurt. OK, teenage Sam did not do that.
I think I might beg, I think I feel him laugh against me. I think I tell him I’m close, and he tells me to look at him. But minutes later, I’m a lax tangle of limbs on the bed, the aftermath of my release still shuddering through me.
Sam slowly kisses his way back up my body and I smile, pulling him down on top of me as he nestles in the cradle of my thighs. He rips open a condom packet, kneeling up to roll it on, before bracing himself back over me.
“I’ve missed this,” I whisper against his mouth as he slowly slides himself into me.
“I’ve missed you,” he tells me between kisses, pausing with a hiss as he seats himself in me. “Fuck, Kath.”
He slowly starts to move in and out of me. The friction is exquisite.
We’re both looking at each other intently. And suddenly this feels less like friends having fun and maybe like it could be something deeper, something different. Something I’ve only recently realised that I really, really want.
“Let me give you more.” Sam rolls, and suddenly I’m on top. We both groan in unison at the new angle. He pinches my nipple hard, and I gasp. Something else that teenage Sam didn’t do.
“This is basically every fantasy I’ve had for the last two years,” he says.
“Only two years?”
“OK, definitely more than two years.” His hands grip my hips tightly and grind me back down. We both release a ragged breath. “Are you going to do what I tell you?”
I gulp and nod. God. Sam never used to take control when we were younger, and the words turn me on in an unexpected way. I didn’t know this would do something to me—but apparently it really, really does.
“Touch yourself.”
I nod again. This angle is forcing him even deeper and I can see him watching the place where we join. I move my hand from his chest to my clit and his eyes flare. I feel like he can see beneath my skin.
“I love watching you,” he tells me. “I can see you taking me, I can feel you tightening around me, Kath.”
“I’m really close,” I gasp out.
“Me too,” he tells me between panted breaths.
A few more swipes of my fingers and my stomach tenses as I start to climax, even as his hips start to piston up with more force, the movement erratic. I collapse onto his chest, and when I catch my breath, I can feel his heart pounding against my ear.
“That was…” I trail off.
“Exceptional.” He smiles at me as I turn my head towards him.
“Outstanding,” I press a kiss onto his lips.
“Unbelievable.”
“Marvellous.”
“My brain isn’t functioning,” he says after a pause. “I don’t think I can think of another superlative.”
“My task here is done,” I laugh, and as I slowly slide off him, I wince at the slight burn.
“Are you OK?” he asks, watching my face. “I haven’t hurt you, have I?”
“No, not at all,” I reassure him.
“Promise?” he asks, looking slightly worried.
“Pinky promise,” I tell him. “If anything, we just need more practice.”
“Now that I can definitely help with.” He pulls me into his side and kisses my temple. The casual intimacy in the gesture catches in my chest. It’s been years since we’ve been like this and I’ve missed it more than I even realised.
“I’m really glad that we saved money by getting a room with one bed,” I tell him as I stand up to go to the bathroom, needing a moment to gather myself.
“Me too. Though I was not looking forward to platonic bed sharing again.”