Chapter 21
21
JORDAN
A s Bronson’s lips caress my chin, I allow myself to sink deeper into the bed, my limbs growing heavy beneath him. He takes his time, traveling down my arms to kiss my palms before moving to the valley between my breasts.
I release a subtle groan as his lips graze my belly. In the darkness of the blindfold, I flex my fingers and curl my toes, willing myself to stay still as kiss after kiss leaves me aching for more. I long to touch him, to roll my body against his while I run my fingers through his thick hair. But I force myself not to move, his request echoing in my mind.
Relax.
You take care of us all day.
Let me take care of you.
Sparks dance along my navel, his teasing tongue licking downward.
“Shh,” he whispers, his voice full of amusement. “You’re twitching.”
I grab the blanket beneath me, my chest heaving, thoughts of feeling him inside of me taking over. I long to spread my knees and give myself to him, but I know he wants more than that.
He wants to taste me.
Bronson goes lower.
I stiffen.
“Jordan,” he says, his breath warm against my skin.
“Hm?” I ask.
“Relax.”
“I am.”
“You’re clenching.”
I realize he’s right. I’m holding tight fists. I’m squeezing my midsection. Exhaling, I try to loosen as heat rushes to my face.
“Jordan.”
“Hm?” I ask again.
Bronson kisses the tops of my thighs. “Do you want me to stop?” he asks.
My mind says yes, but my body screams no.
“No,” I answer, my core throbbing for more.
“Good,” he growls lightly, his hand coming to rest between my thighs. “Because you look so fucking good right now.”
I chuckle, a bit of jelly returning to my muscles.
“Spread your legs.”
I shift my knees apart slowly.
Bronson laughs. He hooks my thighs and pulls them apart, swiftly yanking me toward him. I gasp in surprise, my throbbing core meeting his body and sending a shock up my spine.
“Bronson,” I say, a sharp moan in my breath.
He rolls us together as our lips meet, and I feel the outline of his cock pressing hard against me. My hands move on their own, firmly cupping his face and kissing him deeply.
“You sure you don’t just wanna fuck me now?” I offer, the words breathy and wild.
“Later.”
“Soon?”
“Later,” he repeats, taking hold of my hands. He gently returns them to their place at my sides before kissing the tip of my nose. “Now, relax... and keep those knees apart.”
I nod, trembling.
He kisses down my body again, this time faster, more urgently. As he settles between my thighs, I try once again to clear my mind. I picture nothing but darkness, hoping to calm the storm brewing in my thoughts. Thoughts of embarrassment. That I’m ugly. That I’m unworthy. He’s only doing this to be nice, you know. It’ll take too long and he’ll get bored. They always do. He’s only pretending to be eager now. Just wait.
Just wait.
Just wait.
“Jordan,” Bronson says, his voice so gentle.
Realizing I’m clenching again, I release my fingers and toes. “Sorry,” I whisper, feeling tears pooling beneath the blindfold.
His lips graze my inner thigh. “Don’t think about it,” he whispers. “Just breathe. Just feel. Okay?”
I nod. “Okay.”
I chuckle as his fingers dance along the sensitive area at the back of my knees. He runs his lips along the length of my inner thighs, inching closer to my pussy. Just as I think he’s about to make contact, he leaps to the other thigh and performs the same teasing kiss all over again.
Each sensual touch takes me further, and I feel myself squirming beneath him, my nerves running wild. I’m wet and throbbing, my body begging to be taken.
To be tasted .
When Bronson finally kisses my clit, I release an overwhelming sigh. He licks me using the full length of his tongue, and I feel... I feel…
Fuck.
Bronson hums greedily. “You taste... amazing.”
He sucks on my clit, and I believe him. Fuck, I believe every word he says. Every nibble and taste leads to little grunts and groans. He eats me like he said he would, leaving no inch of flesh ignored, leaving me twitching and mewling in pleasure.
Intrusive thoughts tickle the edges of my mind, but it feels too good. Passion overwhelms my senses and my body reacts on its own. My entire core tightens with need and I shudder, his tongue circling my clit.
Time loses all meaning as I settle even deeper against the pillows. I ride the waves of pleasure; them coming and going as swiftly as his tongue can move. His deep grunts and sexy groans tickle my ears. And yet, still…
Is this taking too long?
Is he just faking it?
Is he counting the seconds until I finally tell him to just stop?
Behind the blindfold, I pinch my eyes closed. Suddenly, I hate this. I hate myself. I scold myself for wasting time, for doing this when I should do that. People count on me. Shouldn’t I be doing something productive right now? Something less selfish?
Fuck, I’m selfish.
Ugly, too.
I bet I taste wrong.
This is stupid.
I’m stupid.
I’m—
“Jordan.” Bronson’s voice cuts through the dark like a warm breeze. “What’s wrong?”
Spots burn into the back of my eyelids. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“I’m not.” He sucks lightly on me, but I don’t feel it anymore. “This is… so good.”
“Is it?” I ask, full of doubt.
“Take the blindfold off.”
I slide it up over my eyes. As I do, I see the outline of him between my legs. Bronson rises to his knees, showing me the stain in his grey sweatpants. A prominent, dark spot dripping along the stiff outline of his erection.
My mouth sags. “Did you come?” I ask.
“Yes,” Bronson says, his chest quivering. “You’re so fucking hot, Jordan. I couldn’t help it.”
My head shakes, but it’s hard to argue with that kind of proof. “Why?” I ask anyway.
Bronson chuckles. Without a word, he lowers back down and buries his face between my thighs. I almost stop him, but my body shudders with need. Pleasure curls around me again like a silk sheet, and I feel myself drifting again.
This time, I keep the blindfold loose about my forehead. I watch Bronson, his face bobbing, his mouth fully obscured. His eyes are closed, but I can still see the desire in his expression. He likes this. He wants this.
He likes me.
He wants me.
Bronson reaches up, his palm crawling blindly along my belly. He palms my breasts and squeezes. I tingle with rekindled passion. I moan, the image of him eating me out and fondling my body sparking a new wave in my core. It tingles even sharper when he groans, his tongue burrowing deep inside, his hips gently humping the bed. I moan with him, reaching down to curl my fingers through his hair. He pinches my nipple in response, making me moan louder.
“Bronson,” I gasp, locked in place on the bed.
Still, a final, lingering thought remains.
It’s never happened for me before.
Do I really think it’ll happen now?
But before the thoughts even take shape, the building tension in me tightens even more. One more firm lick is all it takes to push me over the edge.
I come, my entire body releasing at once. My back arches, and Bronson shifts with me, refusing to let up. His tongue works me over as I ride the storm, my core pushing against his nose. He curls his arms around my thighs, locking us together as I squirm, the pleasure climbing to near unbearable levels.
Still, I moan for more.
I moan for Bronson.
Holy crap, Bronson.
He chuckles and I realize I said that out loud. “You’re welcome,” he says, his arms still latched around my legs.
I hum in response, closing my eyes and feeling every inch of my body shiver with ecstasy. “Yes.” I sigh. “Thank you.”
He leaves sweet kisses on me; his lips tapping lightly against my mound, my swollen lips, and my wet inner thighs. Each peck is like a sudden snap of a rubber band, making me jolt beneath him. Every part of me sings, every nerve so sensitive. I run my fingers through his hair again, wondering if I should push him away, but his touch, his kiss, still feels too good.
As my pulse settles and my breathing returns to normal, I look down at Bronson and catch a glint of mischief in his eyes. “What?” I ask, nervously.
He doesn’t reply. Instead, he kisses my tender clit again and presents his tongue. I flinch as it draws circles, but the sharp sensitivity has faded, leaving nothing but a dull ache that’s moments away from pleasure.
“You have,” he says, smothered, “the hottest O-face I’ve ever seen.”
I laugh to question it; the sound turning into a moan halfway through as he plunges his tongue inside me again.
Pleasure moves faster through me this time, and it’s not long before I feel that familiar clench in my core.
“Bronson,” I say, gasping as a second orgasm rips through me. “Stop ? —!”
He obeys, his eyes locked on my face. But he stays with me, his arms slowly unwrapping from my legs as I stop shaking.
“Are you okay?” he asks after a minute.
I laugh, running my fingers through his hair. “Yes,” I answer.
He kisses up my body, pausing at my breasts to give them one last playful squeeze, before he rolls over onto his back next to me.
I go limp, my arms and legs humming softly as my chest rises and falls. Bronson lies still as well, his powerful hands resting on his abs. Further down, I see the stain on his sweatpants and I can’t stop my grin.
“Do you need to clean up?” I ask.
Bronson raises his head and looks down. “Maybe,” he mutters. He sits up and pushes his pants down, quickly wiping himself off before tossing them to the floor.
“Old pants?” I ask.
“No, these are new, but...” He shrugs as he settles down again next to me, buck naked. “Whatever.”
I chuckle. “Yeah. Whatever.”
Bronson rests with closed eyes. I attempt the same, but my mind runs wild. I’m not filled with thoughts of doubt or self-consciousness, however. I’m full of relief. Of gratitude. Of sheer disbelief that it actually happened.
That it actually happened with... Bronson.
I look at him silently. My heart skips as I do, my eyes wandering along his naked body.
Do I… like Bronson?
Have I always liked Bronson?
“Jordan.”
I flinch. “What?”
“What?”
“What?”
“You’re staring.”
“No, I’m not.”
He opens one eye.
“Okay,” I say. “Fine. I was.”
“Do you want to go again?” he asks. “I’m gonna need another minute or two to rest my jaw first.”
“No, no.” I breathe a laugh. “No, you’ve done enough already. I was just...”
Bronson turns his head toward me, his eyes open now.
I swallow hard. “I, uh... I was thinking... would you hold me?” I ask.
“Jordan.” He cracks a smile. “Are you saying you want to cuddle?”
“Totally cool if you say no,” I say quickly. “I know we don’t usually cuddle after. So, if that’s crossing a line, then?—”
Bronson opens his arms.
I smile, happily shifting closer to him. He wraps his arms around me as I fit snuggly beneath one thick arm and rest my head on his chest.
“This good?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say. “Thanks. Wasn’t sure if you were a cuddle guy or not.”
“Usually, no.”
“No?”
He pauses. “Sometimes, it’s nice.”
I blush, my cheeks pulsing with heat against his skin.
“You know what else is nice?” he says, his hand gently caressing my shoulder. “You lately.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“I mean you.”
I raise my head to look at him, curious.
“You’re more relaxed,” he says. “Not as tense and whatnot.”
“Think the others have noticed, too?” I ask.
“Probably,” he says. “But I wouldn’t worry about that.”
“No?”
“Nah.” He runs a finger down my arm and smiles. “You know, I kinda like laid back Jordan.”
My stomach quivers. “You do?”
“She’s cool. She’s chill.” He nods. “Hard to believe she manages the best damn rock band in the world.”
I grunt, reminded of my to-do list. “Right…”
Bronson pulls me close again, guiding my head down. “Rest,” he says.
I push against it. “Aren’t we gonna?—”
“Rest.”
With a smile, I obey. I settle the full weight of myself on him, letting the caress of warm, post-orgasm shivers to dance along my limbs.
In the moments before I fall asleep, I whisper, “Thank you, Bronson.”
I don’t hear a reply, but I feel a gentle kiss on my head.