Chapter 16
The problem with my boyfriend was that he was a chronic over thinker.
His brain was going nonstop, and I wanted to help him shut it up.
It was our last full night together. We still had Thursday night, but he had plans with his friends, and I had a long video call scheduled with Moira.
We’d end the night together, but it wouldn’t be the same. And then, Friday, he would be gone.
So maybe wanting to slow down his brain wasn’t entirely altruistic. I was going to get something from it too.
I stopped the movie and turned off the TV.
For the first time in a long time, I didn’t fuss over the fact that our carry out containers were still on the table, along with his half-full root beer.
I caught the way Matt looked at the mess and grabbed his hand, stopping him from getting distracted cleaning up.
I appreciated that he didn’t want to leave my living room messy, because he knew how much I loathed when my living room was left messy.
Or, well, any room in my home. I liked things a certain way. I saw nothing wrong with that.
But tonight, I wasn’t thinking about messes.
I was thinking about Matt, about the way his brain was whirring so loud I could hear it.
I led him to the bedroom and shut the door behind us. “Get undressed, then lay on the bed,” I directed.
“Noah?”
“I told you we’re going to shut off your brain.” He raised an eyebrow but began removing his shirt. “Slowly.”
His brow furrowed in confusion, but he slowed down the process of getting undressed.
I watched with undisguised hunger as he lifted the shirt over his head, revealing the tan torso underneath.
My eyes moved to the tattoo on his ribs, and I flashed back to the night where he explored my body, looking for my tattoo.
He’d made a point to kiss it every time he went down on me, now that he knew it was there.
The same way I traced the black serif font of his tattoo with my tongue.
I wanted to trace it now. I had to physically stuff my hands into the pocket of my sleep pants to hold myself in place.
His shirt fell to the floor, and he began slowly dragging his black sweatpants down his legs.
He was left standing there in those delicious black boxer briefs of his, the ones that cupped his package so beautifully.
They did even better things for his ass.
I lifted a finger and motioned for him to turn around.
He moved like he was in a haze, turning in a full slow circle, letting me take in the view. I licked my lips.
How had I gotten so lucky?
I was back with my first love. I was dating the most attractive man I’d ever seen in my life, and I’d seen a lot of men. I’d been with a lot of men.
“Take them off and then lay on the bed.”
He turned so his back was toward me and removed his underwear. His ass was perfect, two beautiful globes that I wanted to bury my face in.
“What are we doing?” he asked as he made his way to the bed. “And am I laying on my stomach or back?”
“Back, for now,” I instructed. “As for the ‘what’, pretty sure that’s obvious.”
His laughter filled my bedroom as he lifted a single middle finger in my direction. I grinned as I stalked toward him. “Do you trust me?”
“With my life.”
His answer was so automatic, so certain, that it left no doubt in my mind. Matthew Bennett trusted me. He cared about me. He wanted me. He wanted me almost as much as I wanted him. It was a miracle. He was a miracle.
“Can I blindfold you?” Matt nodded. “I think not being able to see what’s happening next might help you focus, and I want all your attention tonight.”
“You have my attention.”
I went to my beside table and opened the bottom drawer.
Matt and I hadn’t explored that drawer together yet and tonight seemed to be the right time for it.
I pulled out the black silk blindfold from the depths of the drawer and sat on the bed.
“If it gets too much, or you want the blindfold off, or you don’t like something I’m doing, then I want you to tell me, okay? ”
Matt leaned up on his elbows. “I promise.”
I secured the blindfold over his eyes and lightly pushed him flat onto the bed. I held up four fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“How the hell would I know?”
I made a few funny faces, faces I knew would get a reaction from him if he could see them. The fact that there were no reactions told me the blindfold was secure. He couldn’t see. “Hands over your head.”
He raised his hands and clasped them together. He looked so handsome, spread out on my bedspread. My eyes slid up his body, up the expanse of tan skin to the black silk mask. I drank in the sight of him, trying to memorize every inch of his body. He shifted on the bed, and I grinned. “Stay still.”
“What are you doing?”
“Watching you.” Matt’s full lips pursed, and I grinned. “Now,” I whispered as I started to lift my shirt over my head, “I’m getting naked.”
“Kind of wish I could see that.”
“You’ve seen it before. Promise it hasn’t changed since last night.”
I pulled my pajama pants and underwear off in one movement, then I stood off the bed.
Matt reacted to the shift of the mattress with a grumble and a groan.
I had plans to change those sounds into less disgruntled ones soon, and I was looking forward to it.
But first, I needed supplies. I started shifting through the drawer, making sure I made a lot of noise as I selected a toy to use on him as well as a few other bits of fun.
I laid them on the nightstand and opened the top drawer.
I pulled out one of my condoms from the little tin we’d put in there, mixing our two preferred brands together, and the bottle of lube.
They joined the toys on the nightstand.
“You look really hot,” I whispered to Matt.
His head turned toward me, and I watched his arm twitch over his head.
That might have been a little bit of revenge for him not allowing me to touch him when he went on his tattoo hunt.
He’d had me at his disposal, and it was my turn now.
It was my turn to do whatever I wanted with his body, to make him feel so much pleasure that his vision whited out and he saw God herself.
“I kind of wish you could see how you look right now. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”
I picked up my first selection from the drawer, a hot pink feather tickler Moira had bought me as a joke for my twenty-first birthday.
The joke had been the color, and while it was garish, I’d kept it.
I hadn’t ever pulled it out with anyone, because no way in hell did anyone I’d hooked up with before Matt need to know I had a hot pink feather tickler.
Those guys didn’t even get to see the contents of the drawer, not like Matt.
Matt was the exception, not the rule. I hadn’t known it in high school, but I knew it now.
“Are you ready?” I asked quietly, holding the feather wand in one hand as I looked down at him.
“Ready,” he said with a nod. I watched as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, thinking again. Overthinking maybe. “Ready, and maybe a little nervous,” he admitted.
“I’m going to take really good care of you.
” I rested a bent knee on the bed, and his head moved toward the shift.
“Keep your hands up,” I reminded him before gently stroking the side of his body with the feather tickler.
He wiggled like he was trying to get away from the sensation.
Interesting. I did it again, and he shifted one more time.
The third trailing of the feather wand was followed by a giggle. “You’ve never been ticklish before.”
“I’ve never felt whatever that is before,” he pointed out. “Did you pull a feather boa out of your little drawer of tricks?”
My jaw dropped. I was aghast. Did he really think that I was the type of person that would own something as tacky as a feather boa? It was almost insulting. “It’s not a boa!”
“It feels like a boa.”
“Does this feel like a boa?” I asked him, lightly thumping his side with the feather tickler.
His lips parted at the impact. That was a new reaction, one I’d not witnessed before with all the things we’d done to and with each other over the course of the past month.
“Like that?” I asked him, mesmerized by the way his back arched ever so slightly when I repeated the action.
“Kinda, yeah,” he breathed out. “But not a boa. What—” His question cut off into a breathy gasp when I did it again, a little harder.
I might have to invest in some kind of impact toys.
I’d never personally been into them, but if he was reacting like this?
Well, I could see the appeal. “What is that?”
“Feather tickler,” I told him as I brushed it over the spot I’d just hit. The change from hard to soft brought a moan from his lips, and my cock reacted immediately. “Not a boa.”
“Not a boa,” he agreed.
I ran the feather down his body further, brushing it over the faint lines of his abs and down to his cock.
I watched as it twitched in reaction. Every so often, I’d switch up my exploration.
I hit the inside of his thighs with the blunt end of the stick and then soothed it with the feather.
His legs parted, like he was giving me better access. The invitation was too much to resist.
I placed the feather toy down on the bed and leaned over him.
His dick was only half hard as I lowered my lips down to him. I wrapped my hand around his shaft and gave it a few pumps. His hips lifted from the bed, chasing after the sensation. I leaned forward and took him into my mouth. “Noah,” he moaned out as I swallowed him down to the base.