Chapter 22
Twenty-Two
Blair
Oh. My. Fucking. God.
I saw our conversation going a lot of ways, but I didn’t expect this. This man in front of me? This version of Tyson? The version I didn’t see coming? Yes.
When I ask him what’s next, it’s almost like his eyes are burning into me. Branding me. Claiming me as his. And you know what? I want him to.
He doesn’t answer me, so I unbutton his jeans. He watches with that same grin and devilish look in his eyes, and it’s almost like it’s charging me. Giving me energy—courage—whatever it is that’s pushing me in this direction. I pull the zipper and then he helps take his jeans off, kicking them away.
Tyson stands in front of me, I’m still sitting on the couch, and that makes me practically eye level with his dick straining against his light gray boxers.
I can even see the dot of wetness smeared on the fabric.
My mouth waters, thinking about making him feel that way without him even being touched.
He made me see stars and that made him this hot? Ugh, I’m obsessed. It makes me feel powerful—even though he wanted to boss me around—and I’m here for it.
I put my fingers in the band of his briefs and look up, his eyes laser focused on me—my mouth.
“Is this okay?” I ask, making sure we’re still on the same page.
“Fuck yes. You’re killing me, Blair. I need you to touch me.” He puts his hand through his hair, raking through the dark brown locks, and landing at his hips next where he lets them rest.
I let out a small laugh, “Someone had no problem making me wait.”
His fingertips scratch my scalp as he puts his hand through my hair, before they land under my chin. “Do you want to taste me, Blair?” His voice is rough, like driving over a gravel road and it makes me throb—the hunger that was sated only a minute ago needs more.
“Yes,” I answer.
He pulls his briefs down, his cock springing forward, and I need a moment.
Just a second or two. Yes, Tyson is over six feet tall but I never thought about how that translated to this part of him.
I’m not even sure I’ll be able to take all of him.
It’s veiny and thick and the wave of excitement that washes over me feels like a breath of fresh air.
Can’t wait to try.
I reach forward, brushing the remnants of the precum on the head, before letting my fingers graze down to his base. I can feel his eyes on me, like he’s clocking every movement.
Wrapping my hand around his dick at the base, I pull a little forward and meet him with a soft kiss. It’s heavy—substantial—in my hand. I can feel the groan that slips out of his mouth and I’m amazed I can make him feel like this with this type of touch—a close mouthed kiss.
Looking up, I part my lips and put him in my mouth, slow and steady. I take as much as I can, barely meeting my hand at his base, before I pull him out. I go a little further with the next pass, this time gagging.
“Fuck, do that again,” Tyson groans, his hands on his hips while he lets me take control of setting the pace.
I do what he asks and try to get a little more but still gag. He’s pushing me to my limit but I still feel in control—comfortable—and eager.
Setting a rhythm, stroking him and then sucking on his length in tandem, I reach my other hand up his chest. The muscles underneath are flexed, strong, and I let my hand scratch down his front. Tyson grabs my wrist and plants a soft kiss on the inside, while moaning as I work him in my mouth.
When his hands find the back of my head, he’s gentle as he shifts the position enough to get a little more of what he’s looking for. I know he’s holding back and today’s not the day to tell him to fuck my mouth the way I want him to. A girl has to build herself up to that.
“Oh fuck, you look so good like this. My dick in that mouth. Your pretty lips around it.” He praises me while fisting my hair and then pulling my head away from him.
His hands are on my sides, lifting me up, and kissing me. Frantic. Desperate. Like he needs me to breathe. I wrap my legs around him as he grabs a handful of my ass with each hand.
“I’m not about to fuck you on this couch. I’m taking you to my room. Is that okay?”
I put his earlobe in my mouth, nipping it, and then say in his ear, “Please.”
He kisses the crook of my neck as he walks us to his room, lightly tossing me on the bed, which must be a king considering I can spread out my entire body.
Tyson reaches for the bottom of his shirt, and lifts the Henley up and over.
Again, I need a moment. I’ve never been with a man like this, with a body built like this.
He’s an offensive tackle so he has to put on quite a bit of weight and good god does it suit him.
His arms, his shoulders, chest—I have to make sure I’m not actually drooling.
Tyson rolls his neck and growls, “Need you to take your shirt off, baby.”
No questions asked. I sit up, grab my top, and lift it up and over. The only thing that’s left is a black bralette, and when Tyson nods at me, I know he wants that off, too.
Once I’m completely bare for him, he licks his lips, before hovering over me on the bed. “You’re fucking unreal,” he says before pressing his lips to my neck.
He moves quickly, leaving a trail of kisses down to my collarbone, and then he takes one of my breasts in his hands, the other holding him up.
Tipping his head down, he puts my nipple in his mouth, and even though this is one of my most insecure body parts, Tyson doesn’t bat an eye.
I’ve never been busty, or had the sexy cleavage some women complain about.
Typically, it’s hard to feel sexy, but the way that Tyson looks at me, devours me, I feel like a queen.
Then he’s rolling the pink bud, peaked with arousal, with one hand while his mouth sucks the other.
I’ve never been a big fan of nipple play—more like a thing for my partner instead of bringing me any pleasure, but whatever he’s doing is definitely working.
Ty has me throbbing underneath him. He cages my body while worshiping me, moaning into my skin, flicking my skin with his tongue—my cheeks redden thinking about his face between my legs only a few minutes ago.
My orgasm builds and I can’t believe how close I feel. I swear, the right words from this man's mouth could push me over, for the second time today.
“What are you smiling about?” he asks, pulling away from my nipples.
“The fact that you’re going to make me come again,” I answer, maybe too honestly.
His tongue licks between my breasts, slow and up toward me, and when he reaches my collarbone, he kisses me. Like he’s putting an exclamation at the end of a sentence, it’s firm and full. “Better get used to it, baby.”
Fuck. I need him inside me. And when I’d typically let my partner dictate what happens next, I like to hear that groan from him when I say something he doesn’t expect. And I feel like that’s one of them.
“Ty. I need you to fuck me.”
I was right because he lets out that groan, the one that inches me closer.
“I have an IUD. Good to go if you are.” I regularly get tested when I have a new sexual partner. And I haven’t been with anyone since my ex, which was months ago. Too long.
“I’ve been tested but haven’t been with anyone in over a year,” he says in my hair.
“A year?” The words come out of my mouth before I can hold them back.
He pushes himself up so we can see each other.
“The person I wanted wasn’t available.”
I put a hand to his chest, needing to slow this down a minute. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. So let me have you now.” He dips down, kissing the sensitive skin in the crook of my neck, his hand reaching down to touch my clit before finding my entrance again. “Fuck, this needy cunt is ready for me. Isn’t it?”
“If it will fit…” The concern lingers in the back of my mind, how much of him there is to take in my mouth makes it way front and center. Before I can be embarrassed, Ty’s lips are on mine, searing.
“Baby, it’ll fit. I promise,” he insists, kissing my neck between syllables.
I reach down, grabbing his cock and say, “Then don’t make me wait.” I’m surprised at the needy voice that almost squeaks out.
Before I can get all the words out, the head of his dick is nudging at my entrance, before pulling out and swiping my clit. I let out another needy whimper, because this man is still edging me. My hands wrap around him, scratching down his back.
And he gets the message.
Tyson slowly pushes inside me, his dick stretching me.
He doesn’t go slow to tease me but for the sake that, even though I’m dripping for him, I’m not used to his size.
He’s holding himself up and the veins in his forearms tick with each thrust in and out.
Tyson watches as he pulls his cock all the way out, and then he moves it inside me again—a little faster and further than before.
He does that a few more times and I’m grasping for him because he fills me in a way I’ve never felt.
Each time he pumps into me, my body takes a little more, and my orgasm is within my reach.
I grab my tits, rolling my nipples with my fingers, and Ty can’t stop watching me.
I look down and see he’s almost fully inside, the painful stretch, the kind of feeling that’s about to tip completely into pleasure.
“Fuck me, Ty.” If I wasn’t on my back, I’d get on my hands and knees and beg.
And this does the trick—flips the switch.
This time he goes faster and he’s not holding back.
Taking all of him feels so impossible and my body can barely register the difference between pain and bliss.
Fuck, I want it all. I reach down and touch myself, for just a few seconds, getting myself perfectly primed for him to fuck me over the edge.
When I’m about to come, I reach my hands up and feel his chest.
“Come with me, Ty!” I scream as the first wave of my climax takes the air from my lungs. He watches me unravel and I know I’m squeezing around him as he speeds it up and pounds into me. I let out a guttural yell—one I’d typically cover with my hand, but I know he wants to hear it. Feel it with me.
He finds his own release and he fills me with it. Every drop of him. When he comes inside me, it’s like I can grab hold of my own orgasm and ride it for even longer. Tyson shakes, yells out in pleasure, and tips his head back.
When the shocks finally subside and we’re at the end, he tips his head down and kisses me, soft. This is different than before… It's compassionate, caring, and so remarkably him.
He rolls off me and pulls me to his side. I get close to him, nestling my head on his chest, throwing my arm over him.
We lay there in silence—just our breathing between us—and it’s like both of us are afraid to speak.
That wasn’t crossing the line, that was erasing it, drawing one in a completely different place and jumping over it—together.
I try to put together what happened, like if our relationship was a puzzle.
It’s clear I got some of this wrong. Tyson may have always had feelings for me. Big ones. Ones where he thrives on making me come more than once. Maybe it’s just that? Maybe he wants to be fuck buddies? People still do that, right?
“Blair, stop that.” His voice is soft but cuts through my thoughts.
“Stop what?” I pick my head up to look at him.
He pivots toward me, a sated look on his face.
“Overthinking. I can feel it from here.” His fingers run up and down my arm, soothing, and he says, “Here’s what’s going to happen.
First, we’re going to take a shower. I’m going to clean you up.
Then, I’m going to get us coffee and lunch.
I’ll also let my family know that we’re alive and we’ll be here for a bit until dinner.
And then we’ll talk about whatever is rattling around in that beautiful brain of yours. ”
Well, shit. He’s good.
He stands from the bed and reaches out a hand. “Let’s get in the shower.”
Taking his hand while he beams at me like this, I can’t remember a time when I was more comfortable. I notice he’s staring at my thigh, so I ask, “What?”
“Just looking at me, running down your thigh, trying to keep it together.” He bites his lip and pulls me to him for a searing kiss.
I try not to blush but this man and his mouth. The one I didn’t know he had? It’s a hell yes for me.