Chapter 21 Henri #2
I cover his mouth with my hand. “No. No more being sweet and kind and saying all the right shit. That’s my job and I never mean what I say.
This is supposed to be fun and feelings aren’t fun.
They’re messy and sticky and complicate shit.
So stop being nice to me and make good on the contract you have in your slutty little notebook and make me come.
” I lower my hand and wait, promising myself that if he tries to confess something I’ll run out of the room, pack my bags, and buy the next ticket out of Colorado.
“Is that what you want Henri? To use me?” One hand abandons my leg to roam up under my shirt until he cups me over my thin lace bra, thumb teasing my nipple into a stiff peak.
“Yes.” And it damn near comes out of me as a whimper.
“Then use me. But I’m not going to stop being nice to you.” He kisses me, just a peck that has me following his lips for more. “I’m going to be so damn nice to you.”
“A nice man would get the door. We need to lock it,” I tell him, even as I attempt to shove down the swarm of butterflies that have chosen that exact moment to burst to life in my stomach. No one invited you, you damn insects.
“I locked it on my way in. Didn’t need anyone barging in on you,” he explains.
“No other reason?”
“A library is a great place to learn something new.”
“What’s next in the curriculum?” My voice comes out thin and airy as goose bumps spill across my skin.
“Tell me, what are you anxious about? You haven’t been with anyone since college. What do you want out of this?”
“I want to know how to not look like a fucking idiot,” I tell him through a self-effacing laugh.
“I’m going to tell you a secret,” he says, his voice a low rumble as he plants kisses, trailing from the base of my neck, up my jaw.
“Sex is messy and awkward.” Kiss. “But good sex takes good communication.” Kiss.
“Telling your partner what feels good, what hurts. If you like it when it hurts.” Kiss.
“Helps you build trust and be comfortable.” Kiss. “So tell me, what do you want to do?”
My back arches, straining to press closer to him. “I want to suck you off. I want to know how to make you come just with my mouth and hands.” The request spills out of me and in response Liam groans against my skin. A hum of need sings through me.
“One condition.”
“Yes.”
“You get to taste me, only if I get to taste you.”
Protests burst from me. “You don’t have to. I haven’t shaved or really done anything. I was meaning to pick up a razor, but we’ve been so busy.”
“Like I give a fuck about that.” His hands fly to the button on my jeans, starting to peel them off. “Henri, do you know how hungry I am for this pussy? How last night I licked the remnants of you off my fingers and it wasn’t nearly enough.”
Denim drags down my skin only to be caught around my ankles. He frees my feet from my boots to slide the pants off the rest of the way.
I’m squirming now, thighs pressed tight against the building, aching need.
Using two fingers, he pushes my blue cotton thong to the side. I don’t exactly have sexy underwear, and right now, I wish I did.
Slowly, he spreads me wide, my wetness soaking his fingers. “So fucking pretty.”
Leaning in, the pad of this tongue swipes over me before pausing to flick over my clit.
My whole body jerks and I moan so loudly that my eyes snap to the door.
I slap a hand over my mouth just in time to trap the desperate whimper that comes when his tongue plunges into me, fucking me like he’s starving.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to stay quiet,” I pant out.
“I think we can find a solution to that.” His fingers hook into the sides of my underwear. He takes them off and balls them up in his fist. “Open wide.”
I do and he shoves the damp fabric into my mouth. The taste of my own arousal coats my tongue. I thought it would make me feel gross, but there’s a part of me that loves this, giving up some control, being told what to do.
“If I need to stop, tell me. You can tap me twice.” He demonstrates, patting my thigh. “Or take out the panties and say so. Nod if you understand.”
I nod.
“That’s my smart girl.”
The praise rolls through me in a burst of exhilaration and anticipation for what he’ll do to me next.
He licks up the sensitive skin of my thighs and I have to fight the urge to squeeze my legs closed.
When his mouth finds my clit this time, he sucks at me.
I grasp at his hair and he moans, the vibrations shooting straight into my core.
I cry into the underwear in my mouth, the sound muffled and making me far more comfortable now that I know it’s far less likely that we’ll be heard.
A finger dips into my entrance, winding me tighter. My hips buck to meet him and he pins me into place, the rough fabric of the chair beneath me scraping against my skin. I’ve never felt like this, and it’s so fucking freeing.
Between his mouth and fingers, he works me tighter than a violin string. He pulls back and simply blows on my swollen clit and I come, collapsing back against the chair.
“How was that?” Liam asks. His lips glisten from my wetness, hair stuck at odd angles, eyes glassy. With a thumb on my bottom lip and index finger under my jaw, he tips my jaw open and removes my underwear so I can speak.
“For someone I scandalized so easily, I never thought you’d be so good at that.”
“I wasn’t scandalized. A part of me wanted to do this since the day we met, it just wasn’t all that appropriate to do under those circumstances.” He caresses the soft skin of my stomach. “I mean, fuck. You don’t know what you do to me.”
My gaze falls to the very evidence of what I do to him straining against his pants. “I think I have a pretty good idea, and I can help with that if you tell me how.”
He rises to his feet and steps back to give me room. I shuck off my shirt and he hisses a breath, attention pinned on me. Slowly, I slide from the chair and crawl. I like the effect I have on him and I want to draw it out.
When I reach him, I graze my fingers over the dusting of hair on his lower stomach, his muscles rippling and tensing as I do so. I lower my hand, pausing at the button but not undoing it. His hips jerk as I palm him through his jeans.
He’s big. Shit. Maybe this was a bad idea. I’m going to fucking choke and look so gross and dumb. Nope. It’s going to be fine. It’s Liam and it’s not like we’re together.
We’re just friends. Friends who, for a short period of time, are helping each other out. In a week, it won’t matter.
I steel myself, sucking in a lung full of air. With shaky fingers I fumble with the button.
After a few seconds of struggling, Liam grips my fingers and pulls them away. “Same rules. If this is too much, we stop.”
“I just need you to talk me through it.” I flush. “Step by step. Tell me what to do.”
“Here.” He presses his thumb over the seam of my lips. I open up and let him in my mouth. I can taste myself on him as the pad of his thumb presses against the flat of my tongue. “Now suck. Yes,” he grunts, jaw tensing. “Just like that. Breath through your nose.”
I tease him with my tongue and it seems to break something in him.
“If I wait any longer, I’m going to come at the sight of you like that.
” He pulls his hand from me. “I need you to take out my dick,” he instructs and I start with the damn button again.
Once loosened, his pants slip down toned thighs.
“Please,” he whimpers as his fingers sink into my hair, not gripping, just resting there as if to guide me if needed.
With a tug on his boxer briefs, his cock springs out in front of me. A bead of pre-cum glistens on the swollen head.
“Now what?” I ask.
“Start slow, just the tip.”
I close my lips around him and his body twitches. Looking up expectantly, I find his eyes locked on me and blazing with a startling intensity, his chest heaving.
“God. You look so fucking good on your knees with my cock in your mouth.” He pants. “Use your tongue, swirl it around for me, baby.”
I do as he instructs and grow more confident with each sound that escapes him. I take more of him, bobbing up and down as he curses under his breath.
Okay, maybe this isn’t that hard. I just need to show a little enthusiasm.
I go faster.
And then I gag, a heaving retch escaping me. I pull back, sputtering for air. Fuck. Way to kill the mood, Henri. He fucking rocked your world and you sound like a cat with a hair ball in it’s throat.
“Sorry. Sorry,” I say.
“Nothing to be sorry about. You don’t know your limits, yet.” The hand in my hair smooths up my neck to catch my chin. “It’s hot how much you want me. Use one hand.” He grips the base of his cock. “Here. But do me a favor, spit on it first.”
“You want me to . . . what?”
“I want you to get my dick wet; it helps with the friction. Now spit,” he commands.
“Okay,” I say hesitantly, rising back on my knees. Saliva pools in my mouth and I bend so I’m over his cock and spit.
“There you go. Now try again.”
First, I wrap a hand around his base and twist. Then my mouth joins. I suck and swirl my tongue as Liam babbles encouragement, his thighs shaking.
“If you don’t want me to come in your mouth, you need to let go, Henri.”
But I don’t. I go faster.
His cock jolts, his abs clench, and hot salty cum spurts down my throat. I swallow it down.
“Fuck. How are you real?” Liam gasps.
And for the first time in a long time, I truly feel like I am real. Not just a figment of someone’s imagination. A real person who wants and needs and is fucking hypnotized by how this man I can’t let myself get too attached to is looking at me.