Chapter 4
4
Conrad Strauss
M y mind blanks as pillow-soft lips mold to mine and his fingers come up to the buttons on the front of my flannel shirt. Whit kisses me with fervor. With a desperation that’s potent. It’s dripping off his tongue with every swipe against mine. With each button undone, he leans farther into me until it’s wide open and he’s shoving it off my shoulders. The soft whoosh of the material hitting the floor is deafening in the otherwise quiet room.
Whit pulls back, peering up at me from beneath his tear-soaked lashes, and the sight has my chest tightening. Taking off his glasses, he folds them up and places them on the desk behind me before tugging his shirt over his head, letting it drop beside mine on the floor. The sight of his smooth skin takes my breath away. His taut, dusty rose nipples, and how I can practically feel the stiffness of them against my tongue, even though it’s been years. The way his skin is so fair I can see the blue veins running along his arms. And the dark smattering of hair that starts at the bottom of his navel and disappears below his low-slung slacks, taunting me.
His forest eyes are glassy and red-rimmed, cheeks pink, and he’s chewing on his bottom lip in a way that feels so goddamn nostalgic, it nearly makes my knees buckle. Reaching out, I use my thumb to pull his lip out from between his teeth, the simple touch sending sparks through my entire body. Breath catching in his throat, he stills, waiting for my next move.
An icy-hot chill travels down my spine as a scene replays in my mind. A memory from years ago, when things weren’t as skewed. A moment, very similar to this one, where Whit waited for my lead. It’s how it always was. But uneasiness settles low in my stomach as I realize that whatever is happening right now, whatever this is, can’t be from my lead. I can’t steer this ship tonight. Not when he’s upset. Whatever is or isn’t about to happen needs to come from him. It needs to be clear.
So, even though it physically pains me to do so, I drop my hand. His brows pinch together as he meets my gaze. “What are you doing?” he asks in a hushed tone.
“What are we doing, Whit?” I scrub a hand over my mouth roughly, heart nearly beating out of my chest.
He swallows, my eyes tracking the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. I imagine my teeth grating along it, feeling his moan vibrate against my lips. My body heats at the remembrance of how responsive he used to be. How loud he was. Needy. Would he still be like that?
Would he still melt under my touch?
Still tremble with need as my lips covered every inch of his body?
Still beg me for more while drenched in sweat and saliva and cum?
“I need you.”
Three words spoken barely above a whisper.
A secret.
A confession.
My undoing.
My throat is tight as I clear it, pulse pounding in my ears. “You’re sure?” I barely recognize my own voice. It’s rough. Barely restrained.
Whit nods, taking a step closer, putting him right in front of me. His hands shakily come to the buckle on my belt, flicking it open at the same time as his eyes flit up to meet mine. There’s a sadness looking back at me, but there’s also an undeniable, unabashed need swimming in them as well.
“I need you, Connie,” he repeats, voice steady and quiet, the nickname he used to call me sending an inferno through my veins like gas to a flame. “I need this .”
Stomach bottoming out, I watch as Whit shamelessly drops to his knees as he works my belt, tugging it out from the loops and letting the leather drop to the floor. My eyes can’t help but track the movement, excitement brewing low in my gut. He wastes no time, then flicks my button open, dragging the zipper down to follow. Tugging the denim down over the swell of my ass, he shoves my briefs with them, not even bothering to take them all the way off.
His hungry, lust-filled eyes meet mine before focusing on the thickening cock bobbing in front of his face. The flush to his cheeks darkens, spreading up to the tips of his ears and down to his chest. His tongue pokes out to swipe his lips as he reaches up, wrapping a tentative hand around my shaft. Pleasure soars through my bloodstream from the single touch, and I have to grit my teeth to keep it together. It’s been too fucking long since somebody other than myself has touched my dick, and the last thing I want is for this to be over before it can even begin.
A smirk curls his lips as he pumps me slowly. Long, even strokes from the base all the way to the crown. Something about the way he’s still partially dressed as I stand before him exposed sends another zap of arousal straight to my core.
“Use me,” he husks. “Make me forget about all my stress for tonight.”
Fuck me. Big, round, pleading eyes gaze up at me, the need and desire written all over his face. My cock throbs in his grip, his request echoing in my mind, bouncing around like a ping-pong ball.
Use me.
Make me forget.
I need you.
A better man would put a stop to this. A better man would walk away. Because in no universe is anything that’s about to happen a good idea. In no universe will this end any other way than with my heart in shambles. But I never fucking claimed to be a better man, and I haven’t stopped dreaming about what it would be like to have one more night with the man before me. Haven’t stopped fantasizing about what it would be like to erase that fucking boyfriend’s touch off his body. Replace it with mine . I don’t give a good goddamn what anybody says, Whit is, and always has been, mine even if he refuses to acknowledge that.
A whimper falls from his pouty, pink lips, and he says the one word that I can’t refuse. The one word that has any resolve I may have had crumbling into a hundred pieces.
“Please.”
A harsh sound rumbles from my chest as I stare down my nose at him. “On the bed,” I growl. “On your back, head dangling off the side.”
Eyes lighting up with glee, Whit immediately kicks into gear, standing up and sliding onto the bed. Before he has a chance to lie down and get into position, I bark out, “Pants off.”
Facing me, lips tugged into a grin, he pushes his pants down, taking his boxers too, and they fall haphazardly onto the ground. His cock juts out, rock hard, the sight making my dick twitch. I allow myself a moment to drink him in like this. Naked, aroused, and all mine .
The way it should be.
“What a good boy you are,” I coo as I walk around the bed, standing in front of where he’s about to be lying. “I see you can still follow directions nicely.”
Whit preens under my praise, teeth chomping down on his bottom lip as he tries to hide the grin shining through. His hands flex at his sides, and I know he’s just dying to touch himself. To touch me.
Nodding my chin, I say, “You know what to do.”
And boy, does he ever. Flipping over, Whit lies on his back, letting his head hang ever-so slightly off the edge of the bed. The frame is a tall one, but given my six-foot-six stature, I still have to crouch down slightly. Without even being asked, Whit drops his mouth open and sticks his tongue out, waiting for me.
Molten heat spreads along the base of my spine, burrowing in my balls at the sight before me. His lithe body sprawled out on my bed, cock stiff and swollen, with his mouth open and willing, silently begging to be stuffed full. I take a moment to catalog it all to memory before I lean down, one hand gripping myself at the base, the other planted flat on the bed beside Whit’s chest, as I guide the tip of my cock to his lips, easing past them and sliding across his slick tongue.
I bite down on my molars, eyes fluttering closed as the heat from his mouth surrounds me. His lips close around me, and he sucks while I sink in farther. Reaching the back of his throat, a few inches left to go, his chest heaves as he gags, a smile spreading my lips.
“What’s the matter, kitten?” I drawl, the old pet name falling off my lips like melted butter as I pull out of his mouth and glance down at him. “Your little boyfriend doesn’t give it to you like I used to? Can’t handle it in your throat anymore?”
“Fuck,” he gasps, eyes glassy. “Just do it, please.”
My heart thumps painfully against my ribs as I ease into his mouth again, giving him a little bit more until his gag reflex hits, then I back off before doing it all over again. Whit relaxes his jaw, curls his tongue around my shaft as I work in and out of him, keeping a steady pace as he gets used to me.
The heat, the slickness, the puddle of arousal pooling on his stomach, all of it has me so fucking keyed up, I can barely maintain my composure. Before long, Whit’s taking my entire length in his mouth, the tight confines of his throat constricting around the tip, the sensation making my eyes roll back. The noises coming out of him as I plunge in and out of his tight little mouth are sinful and so fucking delicious. Music to my ears.
I flick my gaze up, taking in his stiff and untouched dick, the way the tip is red and shiny, his balls taut and so fucking smooth. I’m dying to touch him, but not yet. Bringing my attention back up to where my cock is disappearing between a pair of perfectly swollen lips, I wrap a hand around the front of his throat, squeezing the sides just enough to feel the way it stretches to take my girth. His groan vibrates under my touch, his hands steadily flexing at his sides now, the need to touch himself probably overwhelming.
“Do it,” I growl. “Touch yourself, kitten. Let me see how fucking needy you are. How wet you get from choking on me.”
Before I can even finish speaking, his fist is tightly woven around his cock, and he moans as he strokes it, the sound broken as I pick up the pace, fucking his throat with fervor. He’s going to be sore tomorrow, and I relish that thought. In knowing that when he’s gone, doing whatever it is he does, he’ll be able to feel me. Knowing that he won’t be able to leave this room and forget what happened.
Gritting my teeth, heart pounding, I tighten the grip I have on his throat, plunging as deep as I can go, pleasure soaring. I’m so close, but I’m not ready for it to be over yet. Not ready to say goodbye to this moment.
I pull out in an effort to prolong this, a whimper falling from his lips at the loss of fullness in his mouth. He peers up at me, confusion and pleasure in his eyes.
“Stand up,” I bite out, dropping to my knees.
It takes a moment for his mind to catch up, but before long, he’s off the bed and standing before me, his beautiful cock bobbing in my face. I glance up at him from beneath my lashes, and the sight of him looking down at me with swollen lips and flushed cheeks takes my breath away. Leaning in, I swallow him up in one swift go, my hands pressing flat against his thighs as he gasps and grabs ahold of my shoulders.
“Shit, Connie,” he breathes, the words morphing into a throat-deep moan when I hollow my cheeks and suck him deeply. Fuck , I’ve missed this.
Head bobbing up and down in earnest, he cries out, fingers finding their way to the hair on the back of my head, tugging gently as his thighs tremble under my palms. It takes no time at all for his cock to swell, and before I know it, it pulses against my tongue as he spills into my mouth. My tastebuds are alive with his salty, sweet flavor, and as much as I want to swallow it down and savor it, I don’t do that.
Instead, I stand up, using a hand on the shoulder to shove him onto his knees, and because he already knows what to do, he drops his mouth open and sticks his tongue out, waiting obediently for my next move. Leaning down, I grip his chin between two fingers, spitting his release back into his mouth before wrapping a fist around my dick and guiding it across his cum-coated tongue.
Whit’s lips curl into a grin as best as they can as I fill his throat once more, the vibration from his groans sending enhanced pleasure through my shaft and down into my balls. With my hands planted on his head, I rock my hips, plunging deeper into his throat as he gags around me, mouth full of spit, cum, and cock. His eyes become glassy with moisture, and I watch raptly as they spill over, streaking his cheeks.
“That’s it,” I coo, voice low and gritty. “Let me see those tears, kitten.”
Pride grips my chest, knowing these tears of pleasure are replacing the ones from earlier. Knowing that I’m taking his stress and his worry away, even if only for the time being.
My balls tingle, tightening up into my body as my cock throbs. Red-hot pleasure floods my system as my release creeps up. I feel it everywhere, and when I spill down his throat, letting it all out, I throw my head back and let out a deep, guttural groan as he drinks me down. As he drinks us both down.
Chest heaving, I drag in deep breaths as I let my spent cock rest in his mouth. Looking down at Whit, his eyes look dreamy. He’s relaxed and sated. His lips close around my softening cock, sucking gently as we both work on steadying our breath. I don’t know how long we stay like this, but by the time I pull out of his mouth, we’re both softened and exhausted.
I tip my chin toward the bed, and Whit stands up, pulling the covers back as he climbs underneath. I follow, wrapping an arm around his body and keeping him close. As if it’s the most natural thing in the world, he turns, pulling the covers up to his chin as he rests his head on my chest…like we used to. My other hand comes up, brushing gently through his hair, and my chest vibrates with a soft hum as I breathe him in. As I soak in this moment.
After a few minutes, his breathing steadies, and I know he’s asleep. His soft snores reach my ears, and I can’t help but smile at the comfort the sound brings me. Closing my eyes, I drift off with the weight of my ex-husband in my arms, and when I wake in the morning, he’s gone.
I knew it was coming; the moment—no matter how earth shattering—had to end, but fuck, does it hurt more than I thought it would.