Chapter 17 #2
His tongue follows the line of hair down, down, until it’s teasing the base of my cock, and I gasp, my hand finding his hair, tangling in it.
“But I want it now,” he continues, his breath a promise against me. “Want a future with you. Want everything with you.”
There’s something about this that’s not right. Not usual. Even in my dreams, Robbie never goes quite that far.
But before I can chase the thought and let it carry me to the surface, Dream-Robbie takes me into his mouth, just for a moment, and drags me back under.
I shudder, my hips lifting off the bed. But Dream-Robbie doesn’t linger. His mouth moves lower, his breath hot against the sensitive skin of my inner thigh.
He bends my leg to my chest, and I can feel the anticipation coiling tight in my gut. Then his tongue, wet and warm and deliberate, presses flat against my hole.
In this fantasy, when he puts his mouth on me, it’s not just a tease, not just a flick.
He opens me with a broad, slow stroke, the tip of his tongue just barely breaching my rim, the flat pressing firm and insistent.
The sensation is obscene, overwhelming: the heat, the slickness, the way his breath hitches as he tastes me.
A broken sound claws its way out of my throat, so loud it startles me, and I jerk to full consciousness to find Robbie on his stomach between my thighs, a familiar shape in the shadowy bedroom.
“Oh, fuck,” I breathe. “Robbie.”
It’s too much—too intimate, too real—but I can’t pull away.
His hands grip my hips, holding me steady, and his thumbs spread me just enough to give him better access.
Then he does it again, his hot tongue swirling, pressing, fucking me with slow, deliberate strokes.
The tip flicks over my entrance, then pushes in just a little deeper, and the wet, lewd sounds he makes—like he’s freaking starving for this—sends a jolt straight to my cock.
“Rob—” My voice cracks. My fingers fist in the sheets.
“Shh,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my skin. “Let me. I want this. You make me so fucking happy, Ames. Always. Every single day. Just being with you. Let me make you happy.”
And then he does it again—his tongue flat, then pointed, then swirling, each movement sending sparks through my nerves, my body arching into the sensation.
It’s filthy and tender at the same time, the way he’s worshipping my hole with his mouth. I’m so drunk on pleasure, I feel like I’m suspended halfway between reality and some alternate universe.
Every time I arch and stutter-stutter-stutter out a breath, he makes the happy hum that’s starred in all my best fantasies.
Then the next second, his stubble prickles the inside of my thighs, and his fingers tighten on my hips with bruising force that reminds me this is actually happening.
I reach for my cock with a trembling hand and groan. I’m leaking and desperate.
Robbie stills my hand with a grip on my wrist .
“P-please,” I groan, not entirely sure what I’m begging for. “Please, Robbie.”
“Can I have you, Ames?” He pulls back just enough that I can see his eyes. They catch the moonlight peeking through the window and glimmer at me like stars.
I smile at him. At this man, who is the deepest, most wonderful dream of my heart.
“Yeah,” I manage, my voice barely there. “Yes. Of course. I’m already yours, Rob.”
He rolls over and eagerly fumbles through the drawer for a second. I barely have time to let out a soft snicker before I hear the snick of the lube cap.
“You sure you don’t want a condom, baby?” he murmurs.
We’ve already gotten clear panels done and had the discussion, but I love that he checks in with me just in case.
“I’m sure,” I breathe, wondering what it will feel like to finally go bare with someone.
Not someone. Robbie .
I’m already loose and pliable, just floating here, and when he slides his fingers inside me, both of us sigh at how fucking good it feels.
When Robbie finally presses his cock inside, it’s not just the slow stretch and burn that steal my breath.
It feels… inevitable. It feels right. Like the way the sun always rises in the morning.
Like the way the tides always find their way back to the shore.
It’s a homecoming. One I’ve never felt before. Not like this.
He stops with his forehead pressed to my shoulder and whispers against my chest. “Fuck, Amesie.” His voice is ragged, ruined.
“You’re so tight. So hot.” He presses his hips forward another inch, and I can feel him fighting to stay in control even before his fingers dig into my knee. “I didn’t… I didn’t know.”
I can’t answer. Literally, physically can’t. My body’s on fire. Every nerve ending is singing hallelujah. The burn of him inside me has faded into need. I need more. I need him to move. I need him to finish whatever magic spell he’s working right now.
“ Muuuh ,” I manage.
Robbie withdraws and rolls us gently so I’m on my side, facing away from him, my bad shoulder cradled in pillows. I’m so far gone, I barely notice.
His hand slides under my knee, lifting my leg and shifting it back over his as he enters me again. The new angle makes me gasp.
“Okay?” he asks, his voice tight.
I nod. I reach back, and my good hand fumbles clumsily against his face.
Chuckling, Robbie grabs my hand and places a kiss on my palm before moving my hand into his hair. His fingers clench against mine, encouraging me to hold him.
“More,” I breathe. “Rob, more.”
He obeys, thrusting shallowly at first, like he wants to make sure I’m comfortable in this position.
“I can’t… fuck. I can’t believe I’m inside you.
” His breath comes in short, sharp bursts against the back of my neck, and I know he needs to move as badly as I need him to.
“I’ve wanted you for so long, Ames. Longer than I even knew.
” His hips roll again, deeper this time, and an anguished cry escapes him. “You feel perfect.”
His words, the way he’s touching me… it’s too much to process.
So I let go of my thoughts and just allow myself to fl oat, suspended in sensation.
Let myself love every second of the warmth, the weight of him, the way his cock drags over my prostate with every slow, deliberate thrust. My own cock is leaking, aching, but I don’t want to move my hand from where it’s anchored in his hair. I don’t want to break the connection.
Robbie’s breath hitches as he bottoms out, his hips flush against me. “I love you. Christ, I love you,” he murmurs in my ear. “Love you so much it hurts. Love you so much I can’t live without you. You’re the center, Amesie. You’re all that matters.”
I don’t take in the words, but the emotion of it vibrates through me. My throat goes tight, and my eyes burn. I’m just so fucking… glad. So grateful. I never want this to end. I want to stay right here forever.
But I feel like a thief. Like I’m taking something that doesn’t belong to me.
At least not yet. Not until he’s sure. Not until he’s experienced more and decided what he truly wants.
In the meantime, I’m a selfish ass because I’ll take it.
I’ll steal it, and hold it close like a precious treasure, and hiss and claw at anyone who tries to grab it from me.
Robbie’s movements grow more urgent, and his breaths come faster against my skin as he chases his release. His hand finds my cock—another anchor point—as pleasure coils tighter inside me. I can feel him swelling, his cock pulsing with every thrust, and I know he’s close.
So am I. So fucking close.
“Come with me,” he whispers urgently. “Let go, Amesie. Come with me.”
I’d follow the man anywhere, so I do exactly as he says. I let go .
Pleasure crashes over me in waves, my cock spilling over Robbie’s fist as he jacks me in time to his thrusts. He buries himself inside me one last time, and his release tears through him with a choked, awed cry. Then he clings to me, trembling.
I can feel his heartbeat against my back, his breath shivering against my sweaty skin as he presses lingering kisses to my neck, my head, my hand, every part of me he can reach.
“I love you,” he whispers again, his voice raw. “Love you so much.”
I want to say it back—want to tell him I love him too, that this is everything I’ve ever wanted. But in the hazy, dreamlike space, I’m sure he already knows.
I wake to sunlight streaming through the window and Robbie kissing my shoulder gently.
I grin sleepily, almost believing the sex we had last night was a dream. Then I stretch my body. I feel twin aches in my ass and my shoulder, and I realize the sex was very, very real.
Not only that, but Robbie said he loved me. He spooned me and cuddled me. And I moaned and sighed and pretty much told him I loved him too.
My half-formed plan for calm, rational discourse this morning evaporates, and my whole body locks.
Robbie’s kisses turn to an easy chuckle. “And there he is. Morning, Amesie.”
“Heyyy,” I say casually. “Hi.” I clear my throat. “ Thanks for letting me sleep over last night. I appreciate it.”
I don’t hear his sigh so much as feel it ghosting over my chest.
“You’re welcome,” he says.
I clear my throat. “I’m working today. You are too, right? So…”
I move to get out of bed, though my collarbone protests.
Robbie grabs my wrist and stops me. “M’kay. Before we do… whatever we’re doing right now… can you just let me know if you’re okay? Your collarbone? Your ass? Was I too rough?”
I squeeze my eyes shut. There’s true concern in every word and… ugh . I am surrounded by a family and a town that loves me, but no one in the world loves me better than this man.
I just wish I could believe he loved me the way I need him to.
“I’m okay,” I manage to say. “I’m a little stiff, but a hot shower will help. And my ass is…” I clear my throat. I refuse to say it aches exactly the way I like it . “It’s totally fine.”
“Okay.” Robbie releases my wrist. “Good.”