Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
BIANCA
“You want to shower first?” I ask once we get back to our cabin. “I’m going to take longer than you.”
“Sure, thank you.” He grabs his small pouch of toiletries and heads into the bathroom.
I flop on my back on the bed, resting Sadie next to me. She turns in a circle a few times before laying down with a heavy sigh.
“I know, right?” I say to her. The energy’s been sucked right out of me.
Waylon comes out of the bathroom just a few minutes later, and I head in. I take my routine seriously and don’t do anything too trendy that’ll do more harm than good to my skin. As I expected, Waylon just has a toothbrush, toothpaste, and deodorant on the side of the sink he chose.
I change into my pajamas — a cute silky tank top and matching shorts, which is what I usually wear to bed — and look at myself in the mirror. The shorts are tiny, basically boy shorts, and I’m not going to lock my boobs away in a bra to sleep. Is it too much, though?
As much as I want to get another little lesson and check some stuff off my bucket list, I don’t want to seem too needy. But I’m probably overthinking it.
I go back out into the room and find Waylon scrolling on his phone. He’s peeled off his shirt and the blankets are low around his hips. The light dusting of dark hair across his chest is something I never thought I’d find hot — I’d never given it a thought in general. And the glasses. The damn glasses. Maybe it’s because it makes him look really Clark Kent-ish, or maybe it’s the way the dark green frames look nice with his chocolate brown eyes.
“Everything good?” Waylon asks, glancing up at me.
“Y-yeah.” I swallow. “Um, do you want to do more bucket list stuff?”
A smile spreads across his face and puts his phone on the side table. “Yes.”
“Sorry, I’m not great at seduction,” I say, walking over to the bed. “Maybe I should add that to our little syllabus, just for practice.”
“To be honest, I thought your pajamas were part of it.” He pulls back the blankets for me.
“These?” I glance down at myself. “I wear pajamas like this every night. And just to hang out at home.”
He blinks, his eyes roaming over my body. “You do?”
“Yes.” I slide into the bed.
“I’m glad to know that, but now I’m going to be thinking about that all the fucking time.” He wraps an arm around me and drags me toward him.
“This is the tamest stuff I have.” I press myself against him. He’s so perfectly big against me, broad and strong like he could envelop me entirely.
“Fuck, Bianca.” Waylon skims his hand down my back and to my ass, gently squeezing. “Can I add stuff to your bucket list? Namely seeing your entire collection?”
I laugh. “We can figure that out later.”
“Good,” he says.
He puts two fingers under my chin and kisses me, his hand sliding into the back of my shorts. I melt against him — I can’t help it. This isn’t even a real relationship but I’ve never been kissed like this before, by anyone. Like he’s actually into me , not just into the fact that he’s going to get laid by someone.
I shove that feeling into the back of my head and focus on what we’re doing -- his hands exploring my body underneath my tank top and shorts, and my fingers threading through his soft hair.
“So what item are we checking off this list?” Waylon asks, pulling my leg over his hip.
“Just sex where I actually come.” My voice is already a bit breathy. “Not super exciting, sorry.”
“Trust me, I’m extremely excited.” He grinds his cock against me. “Every single time you fuck doesn’t have to be over the top with bondage and role-play. It’s all just as good to me.”
He presses his lips against my neck, then my collarbone. The hand that’s down the back of my shorts grips my ass.
“Promise to tell me what you need if I’m not giving it to you?” he asks.
“Yes.” I gasp as his fingers slip against my entrance from behind. I’m already a little bit wet.
Waylon guides us so I’m on my back and his body is hovering over mine. Even though he hasn’t put his weight on me, I still love feeling him over me, just kissing me all over, peeling off my tank top. He works his way down to my breasts, teasing my nipples, while his hands wander over my hips. An electric current runs from each nipple and down to my clit.
His soft groans as he worships each of my breasts makes me heat all over. I’ve never thought they were anything special, and my exes hadn’t paid much attention to them either. They aren’t particularly big. But Waylon genuinely loves them like they’re perfect.
My hips start to move of their own accord, trying to get some friction against my clit. I find some against his body and whimper. Do I want him to keep playing with my nipples, or do I want his mouth on me again? I can’t bear to let him stop touching me, but I’m being selfish — he’s so hard but I’m not pleasuring him the way I want to.
“Wait,” I say. He lifts his head immediately, his glasses fogged. “I never got to suck your cock last time.”
“You want to?” He rolls onto his back, his cock literally twitching in his pajama pants. Unfortunately, he takes off his glasses and puts them on the side table.
I nod, biting my lip and climbing between his legs. He helps me pull off his pajama pants and boxers. It looks even bigger than it did on our video call, thick and long, stretching up toward his bellybutton.
He sucks in a little breath when I grasp him at the base of his cock. The pulsing of his heartbeat taps against my hand.
“Will you tell me what you like too?” I ask, my own heart beating hard and fast.
The only other time I’ve asked a guy what he liked, he scoffed at me and said I should just know. I stopped asking the question at all after that. But Waylon is different.
Instead of getting annoyed, he says, “of course.”
I take a deep breath and lean down, running my tongue up his cock from the base to the tip. His cock is so thick that I’m worried I won’t be able to fit it in my mouth. But I try, taking as much of him as I can without accidentally grazing him with my teeth. His hip twitches underneath my hand, so I keep going.
The more his body reacts to each of my little changes and strokes, the more confident and wet I become. It’s a rush knowing I’m making him feel good. Now I understand why he was completely fine with going down on me for so long. It’s like getting off without having to touch myself at all.
“Fuck, yes, princess,” he says, gasping when I get my hand and my mouth in sync. “Your mouth feels like heaven. Make it wetter.”
I pop off and try to do as he says. He threads his fingers through my hair, not pushing my head down but keeping it steady. His thumb gently rubs my temple, almost tenderly. Goosebumps erupt across his skin and he moans when I let the tip of his cock reach as far back as I can get it.
“God, I can’t wait to fuck your mouth,” he says, his voice raspy. “Not today, but soon.”
“Not today?” I ask, my lips popping off his cock.
“I think we should save that for later,” he says, guiding me back onto his cock. “Because I won’t be gentle. When I fuck your mouth, you won’t be able to think.”
My pussy clenches at his words alone. I want him to fuck me, hard. Control me completely and make me lose my mind. I pick up my pace as I start sucking him off again, my hand pumping up to meet my mouth so I can stroke the part of his cock that I can’t reach with my mouth. I could listen to his moans and grunts all day and all night.
“Bianca,” he grunts. “Wait. I don’t want to come in your pretty mouth. At least not now. Get on your hands and knees.”
I sit up and take him in. He’s flushed from his chest up to his hairline, his eyes dark with lust I never would have imagined he was capable of when we first met. I have to lean in and kiss him. I can’t help it and luckily, he doesn’t ask me what the hell I’m doing. He slips his tongue into my mouth, his hand digging into my hair almost a little too hard.
When we break apart, I do as he says, getting on my hands and knees with my cheek on the pillows. He hops off the bed and grabs a condom from his bag, putting it on the bed.
I’m plenty wet, but he’s not going to fuck me yet, is he? He hasn’t even put on the condom.
I let out a squeak when I feel his tongue on me from behind, licking from my clit to my entrance and back. His big hands are on my ass, spreading me so he can get to what he wants. He feasts on me, making my legs shake as I cry out into the pillow. This shouldn’t feel this good, like he’s rearranging my DNA.
“You need more? Do you need my cock?” he asks, only stopping for a second.
I legitimately don’t know — I can barely think with his lips lightly suctioning around my clit. He gently pushes a finger into me and I clench around it. Yes . I need more inside of me. His finger is good, but not enough. I want to feel full the way I’ve only felt full with my toys.
“Please,” I whimper. “Please fuck me.”
He pulls away, making me sag against the pillows. I hear him unwrap the condom and put it on.
I tense unconsciously and he slides a hand down my back, soft and soothing.
“You okay?” he asks, his voice the gentle one that he uses every day.
“Yeah.” I turn my head and look at him. His cock looks even more intimidating from this angle. “You’re just a whole lot bigger than what I’m used to.”
He grins, because what guy wouldn’t when being complimented on his cock?
“I’ll go slow. Tell me if it’s too much,” he says, still in his everyday voice. “Okay?”
I nod. He puts his tip against my entrance and gently presses inside. Just the tip feels like a lot, and he keeps pressing forward. I’m being split in half, the fullness almost too much. Finally, he stops when he’s fully in.
“Don’t move,” he says to me.
“You don’t want me to move?” I ask, my voice breathy.
“No, because your pussy feels like…” He pauses, his breathing audible. “It feels really fucking good.”
We sit there for several beats, adjusting to each other. The fullness of his cock inside me turns into pleasure rather than tension. He starts moving, slowly sliding in and out of me. His pace is gentle and steady, and feels good. But just good. I let him fuck me, savoring the feeling of his hands on my hips and ass.
“Talk to me,” he says, reaching around to touch my clit. He feels where we’re joined, and slides that wetness up to my clit. “So we can make you come.”
“I-I don’t know,” I admit. “It feels good, though.”
He lets out a sound that tells me he heard me and adjusts the height of my hips. Eventually he slides some pillows underneath my stomach and pushes me forward, staying inside of me. When he thrusts again, I see stars. He’s hitting my g-spot over and over again, which I can usually only do with my best dildo, some contortion, and well-rested arms.
“ Yes ,” I cry out, trying to press back against him.
He tries out a few paces before he finds the one that makes me let out the roughest sound into a pillow — hard and steady, not too fast or slow. My butt is popped up high enough for me to reach around and rub my own clit. The combination makes me start to shake all over. I’m reaching that long plateau right before I come, the one that’s so pleasurable but not quite there.
I whine, digging my fingers into the pillow and rubbing my clit. So close. Everything feels so fucking good but how do I get over this hurdle? Rub my clit differently? Change the angle of my hips?
“Don’t think,” he says, his hips slapping against my ass. “Just feel.”
I let out a shaky breath and try to wipe my mind clean. Everything in the world shrinks down to just his cock hitting the best spot, over and over again, my fingers on my clit, and his body against mine.
My orgasm hits me like a train, making me cry out so loudly that I should be embarrassed. But I’m not. I’m just rolling across the feelings, clenching around his thick length and shuddering through the pleasure.
I finish coming, my whole body sagging into the bed. At some point, Waylon must have come too, because he’s bracing himself above me, panting. He pulls out to dispose of the condom, leaving me in a puddle on the bed.
He comes back to the bed and slides in next to me, rubbing his hand across my back. My skin is so sensitized that every little touch makes me shiver. I roll over toward him and he keeps rubbing his hand up and down my back.
The little touch is everything, bringing me back down to reality.
“You good?” he asks. I nod. “Good.”
We aren’t quite cuddling, but we’re not not cuddling. He has his arm extended across the pillows behind me, and with a little shift from either of us, he could be cradling me.
I close my eyes for a second, sinking into the pillows. Being next to him is way too comfortable, especially now that I’m not completely wiped out from drinks and socializing all night. I’ve known I’m an introvert for most of my life, so it’s rare that I feel like this after such a long day — relaxed.
Well, mostly.
“Did I do okay today?” I ask.
“What do you mean?” He lifts his head.
“Like when your mom was asking me questions, do you think she suspected anything? Men might have post-nut clarity, but I have post-nut anxiety, I guess.”
He rolls onto his side, facing me.
“I don’t think she suspected anything,” he says. “But either way, sorry she was grilling you.”
“It’s not your fault at all.” I turn on my side too. “I was bracing myself for it at some point.”
“Good.” He blows out a breath through his nose. “At least everything else was good. It’s been a while since I’ve actually won one of Wes’s bets.”
I smile. “I can’t believe that’s an ongoing bet.”
“It’s a little trashy but sometimes it’s nice to let go.” He smiles. “My mom’s sisters — aunt Nadine aside — are a lot less proper. I guess they get it from Nana.”
“She sounds fun,” I say.
“Maybe we’ll run into her. She’s usually pretty busy since all her grandkids are here.” He shifts, his leg touching mine, but he doesn’t move it. “You’ll like her.”
He phrases it like we’re going to meet. Like he wants me to meet her. My heart flutters despite myself, like this is real and he wants me to be a bigger part of his life.
My heart shouldn’t be fluttering. This is just supposed to be him helping me check things off my bucket list so I can move on in New York and have better sex with whoever I click with. To actually date people who want something serious, at least eventually.
But after this, I want to experience all of that with him.