Chapter 25 I Think I Get it Now #2
“I made no effort to ensure that you were satisfied, any time we did sexy stuff,” I explain, too frazzled to care about the silliness of my words. “I was just like, I got mine, who cares if you enjoyed it? This is all my fault! I’m so sorry!”
He snorts a laugh and pulls me back down to the bed before rolling on top of me. “You’re hilarious.”
“I’m serious.”
“You’re forgetting one thing.” He gives me a long, deep kiss and presses his body against me so I can feel how hard he is, with nothing but our underwear between us—I can feel him there. “I was very, very into it.”
“But—How?” I ask, unable to resist rocking my hips against him, just a little.
“Because,” he says, rocking into me as well, like a less-haphazard reenactment of our first make-out in the Pit. “I really like making you come.” My nipples are rock hard through my thin cotton bra as his bare chest brushes over me. “I really like watching you come.”
How the hell can he just say stuff like that?
“I—I think I’d like watching you, too,” I tell him, though my cheeks burn when I say it. “Because it’s you.”
He swears under his breath and kisses me hard, but his hips suddenly jerk back and he’s apologizing. “Not yet,” he says with a self-deprecating laugh.
I end up completely naked in his bed for the first time—first time completely naked with him and first time in his bed—and like most of our previous rounds of this sort of thing, he’s entirely focusing on me. Although this time he’s nearly naked as well, at the very least.
I urge him to stop before he completely takes me apart with his mouth on me—which, as we learned just last week, I do like—and he does. Stop, that is. He looks up at me with concern and I bite my lip.
“Just—Now.”
“Now…what?” he asks, like he honestly doesn’t know what I’m telling him.
“I want to. Right now.”
His eyes go wide for a second and he reaches up to kiss me before he bolts out of the bed and goes over to the top drawer of the dresser. On the other side of the room.
“I thought this dresser was yours.” I point at the one next to the bed with my thumb.
“Well, Malcolm’s the one who’s always well-stocked, so…” He holds up a small square packet and I almost start laughing. I don’t even know why this is funny. I think I’m just deliriously happy.
“You don’t keep your own stash?” I ask with a smirk when he returns to the bed.
“I don’t know if you know this about me, but I’m an introverted weirdo nerd with no social life,” he says, and I do laugh at that. “So, no. I don’t.”
I think I might be nervous, but I’m not scared. Because I know that, whatever happens, he’ll be there for me.
Out of curiosity, I lift my head to watch as he tugs off his boxers and rolls on the condom. I will admit that I still just think penises are weird and awkward—though I also think vaginas are weird and awkward, too, especially living with one—but I like that it’s his. I like everything about him.
I drop my head back down to the pillow as he crawls up the bed again, but instead of getting over me, he stretches out on his back next to me, nearly crowding me against the wall before he pulls me on top of him.
“Oh my god, I’ve never—I don’t even—” I babble, but he holds the back of my head and kisses me sweetly.
“I figure this way you can take the lead, again,” he says, combing his fingers through my hair—though with my nest of curls they get tangled in there pretty quickly.
“But—” My face is like a Flamin’ Hot Dorito. “What am I supposed to—?”
He pulls me down for another kiss and then speaks quietly in my ear. “Do whatever feels good.”
Holy heck, those words just shoot through me to all the places that have been eagerly awaiting this.
There’s a bit of awkward maneuvering to get my legs on either side of him and settle over his hips—and I bonk my head again when I sit up too fast—but then we’re both right there and I’m practically trembling with want.
He has to use a hand to get us lined up correctly, and I hesitate for a second before sinking down onto him.
I expected there to be pain, but there’s not, really.
There’s a stretch, to be sure, and the unfamiliarity of being so full—I don’t think I’ve ever been so full—but I rock my hips a little once I’m fully seated and everything inside me gets cranked to eleven.
Holy. Heck.
“You okay?” Damien asks, though his voice comes out strained, and at first I think I’ve done something to hurt him, but then I notice the way his hands are clenched over my hips, like he’s holding himself back.
“More than,” I reply, leaning down far enough to kiss him as I move my hips again. “You?”
“Um.” He swallows. “I promise I’ll get you off after, if I don’t last long enough.”
“You don’t need to worry about that.” I rock again. And again. “I like this anyway.”
“Yeah, but—” He groans when I speed up, and seems to lose focus. “Can I touch you?”
“Yeah, of course.”
I assume he means grabbing my thighs or my boobs again, or something like that, so I’m surprised when his hand snakes down between us and he starts rubbing me right where our bodies meet, despite his arm being awkwardly trapped between us.
And oh my god.
I wasn’t expecting to come from this, but I think I definitely could—
Bonk.
“Shit—” His other hand flies up to the back of my head, but I’m laughing enough for him not to be too concerned.
“Maybe this configuration would be better back at my place,” I suggest, and he laughs too, but agrees. “I’m okay if you want to be…on top.”
More awkward maneuvering as we swap positions, and he quietly asks if this is still okay before he slides back in, even smoother than before.
I have never been this wet in my entire life, I think.
When he groans in that way he does when I say something over the phone that turns him on, I realize I’ve said it out loud. Whoops.
His hand finds its place again and soon I’m teetering at the edge once more, though his once-coordinated rhythm is disrupted as he slows his hips, like he’s trying not to finish before I do. Much to my aggravation.
He said I should tell him if I want him to stop—
“Don’t stop,” I whine, my voice breathy and strained.
It’s enough to spur him on and he picks up speed, even harder than before, but he keeps working little circles over me and it is a race to the finish line, just like our speedruns.
He’s watching me as intently as he can, even while his eyes go in and out of focus, and the knowledge that I’m about to watch him come undone is what sends me over. Except, when it crashes over me, my vision spots and I’m so thoroughly swept under that in that moment, nothing else exists.
Briefly, I worry that I’ve missed it, missed him, but when I return to myself, I can see him—hear him—like he’s about to reach his breaking point, too.
I touch the side of his face and let out a soft, whimpering, “So good,” and that’s the moment he snaps.
His head drops and his hips jerk and stutter, and every little pulse still feels good—so good—that I almost don’t let him go when he finally pulls out and settles onto the bed, still half draped over me, completely spent.
I run my hand through his hair as he lies here, nestling his head against my chest, and we stay like that for several minutes—although it could be days, for all I know.
“Damien?” I finally say, and he hmms in response. “I think I get why people like sex now.”
His responding snort of laughter makes my heart swell.
Well, shit.
I think I might be in love with him.
And I think he might know that.
We decide to order our vegan sushi burritos to be delivered, since we can barely be bothered to get out of bed—let alone act like humans in the world—after all that.
We head out to the living room once we’re dressed again, and Damien goes over to his computer to place the order online. I stand over his shoulder to read the menu so we can pick out what we want, and he goes back to his Play’N dashboard once the order is placed.
“So. It looks like the archive went up already,” he says, which is unsurprising because the streams usually get saved to the archive within a few minutes. His tone suggests there’s something wrong with that, though.
“What’s the problem?” I ask, leaning in to get a better look at the screen.
The comments on the archive post for today’s stream have started coming in—I guess we were, uh, occupied long enough for some people to have already watched the replay of the stream.
And almost all of them are questions and speculation about the mystery guest who appears near the end.
Including one that has my brain starting to freak out.
HadTrash93: That Hadley t-shirt the girl is wearing… I’m pretty sure only @OddlyAdored has one like that… Just saying.