84. Bailey
eighty-four
Bailey
The ride back to my place is over too soon. We talked about everything and nothing, and it still wasn’t enough. The closer we get, the more my heart rate picks up. I want to invite him in, but I’m afraid he’ll turn me down.
Like I’ve misinterpreted everything to the extent that I’ll just embarrass myself further by asking.
Bailey, he’s holding your fucking hand. I think it’s safe to say he’s still interested.
Hopefully he’ll do what he’s always done, and insist that he walk me to my door.
But what if he doesn’t?
Fuck.
I squeeze my right thigh with my hand like it’s somehow going to keep me from combusting, and as soon as he puts the car in park I blurt, “You can come inside if you want.”
He laughs. It’s so rich and warm I can barely stand it.
“I want,” he says with a smile.
I fumble with my keys, my nerves getting the best of me, but manage to get the door unlocked and my ass inside before he realizes I’m freaking the fuck out. If my pulse rate gets any higher I might have to sit down.
I set my keys on the countertop and turn to find him leaning against the door, arms crossed, eyes alight with mischief.
“So,” he says, gaze raking over me.
My stomach flips and my heart literally threatens to jump out of my chest. I swallow, suddenly unable to form words. I’m speechless. Caught in his snare.
He’s so beautiful.
My feet move of their own accord, taking me to him. Before I know it, I’m standing just a few inches away, staring up into brown eyes that have haunted my dreams for years.
His playful grin falls into a softer, more understanding smile as he slowly places a hand on my cheek.
I lean into it, lean into him. His touch. His warmth.
He runs his thumb along my lips, just a whisper of a touch, and it sends shivers down my spine.
My breaths come faster as I dare to find his eyes again.
“Bailey,” he breathes against my lips.
“Lolly,” I answer, my lungs barely able to expand enough to satiate me. It’s him. He’s what I need. More than my next breath.
Absolute certainty washes over me, and I press my lips to his.
His kiss is gentle, his lips parting just enough to capture mine between them.
I fall into him, needing to touch him, to feel him, to breathe in all that he is now.
His hand glides to the back of my head while his other finds purchase on my hip. The pressure so gentle, it’s maddening.
“Lolly, please,” I groan against his mouth.
“Please, what?” He replies, voice low, teasing.
“Kiss me like it’s been years since you were last able to breathe. Kiss me like you’re feeling what I’m feeling right now because I can’t stand another fucking second of it.” The words fall from my lips so fast they catch me off guard, but my truth tastes like honey on my tongue.
He pulls away, whiskey eyes darting between my own—questioning, searching for something I hope he finds.
“Green eyes, you were always everywhere,” he whispers. “In every sunset, in every song. Everywhere.”
I blink back tears as warmth floods my chest, “I want to breathe again,” I say, voice unsteady.
Before I can take in another breath, his lips are on mine. The gentle kiss from earlier long forgotten as he fucking bruises my mouth with his. His tongue delves into my mouth like he’s been starved and I am his only source of sustenance.
His hands grip my hips as he rocks his hard length against mine and I fucking moan.
I need him. I need him more than I need the floor underneath my feet.
I fist his hair and deepen the kiss and he groans. The sound resonates in my bones and I am lost in him. His hands on me, his perfectly sculpted body against my own. It’s too much and not enough and I don’t know anything but him and I never want to know anything but this.
“Fuuuuck,” I whine as he licks and sucks my neck and throat. My dick is throbbing, begging for friction. Begging for more. For him.
He scrapes his teeth over my skin and it sends shivers down my spine.
I grab his face in my hands and pull his mouth to me once more and fucking devour him. I taste every part of him I can reach. Our tongues fighting for dominance, teeth clashing, lips sucking, tugging, pulling.
I’m so fucking dizzy I pull away to catch my breath and pull my shirt over my head before reaching for his.
He watches me, eyes wild with want, our panting breaths loud in the quiet apartment.
I pull him to me, this time taking his skin in my mouth, trailing my tongue along his throat as I revel in his taste. I pull away, taking in the glimmering bars piercing his nipples.
“That’s so fucking sexy,” I whisper. I bring my lips to one of them, flicking the bar with my tongue before pulling his nipple into my mouth.
He moans against me, shivering when I tug the bar with my teeth.
I trail kisses across his chest and tend to the other one, nipping, and licking, and sucking until his breaths come quicker and I can’t take another second of being apart from him.
I work my way up to his neck, loving the taste of the night air—of him.
“Fuck me,” I say before I drag my teeth across his ear.
He hisses, “Goddamn, that’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.”
I find his mouth again, fucking insatiable—starving. Loving the feel of his septum ring against my skin.
I work my pants off without breaking our kiss, then unfasten his and work them down his legs. It’s sloppy and clumsy and fucking perfect.
“Holy fuck.” His dick is pierced. I’m staring. Gawking. I can’t fucking help it. It’s at full mast and the underside of his shaft has a barbell right below the crown.
“That’s incredible,” I gulp.
He laughs, “I thought you might appreciate them,” he says as he leans in for another kiss.
I pull away, “Wait, them?” My brows pull together as I eye his nipples then his dick again.
“Not those,” he says as he wraps his big hand around his length.
“This,” he says as he pulls his erection toward his abdomen and I finally see the ring pierced right at the base of his shaft and holy fucking fuck.
“And just when I thought it couldn’t get any better,” I manage, trying not to drool.
He smiles and kisses me, laughing against my lips. “I can’t wait for you to feel them inside you,” he grins before kissing me again.
For a moment, I can’t even remember how to kiss him back. I’m just standing here, a fucking dick-drunk statue frozen in place.
My brain decides to reboot and I kiss him back, touching all the hard plains of his shoulders and chest. My hands try to map this new version of him, tracing over every surface within reach.
I moan when he wraps his warm hand around my hard length, working fucking magic as he kisses me into absolute oblivion.
Without hesitation, I grip his base and gingerly examine the piercings with my fingers, rolling them with each stroke.
My breath hitches when I run my thumb through the bead of precum at his slit.
“Lolly, fuck. I want you inside me.” My legs quake with need, threatening to buckle underneath me.
“You need me?” He says against my lips. “Need me to remind you how it feels to be full?”
“God, yes,” I manage. “Please.”
“Hands on the wall,” he says, voice low, commanding.
I bring trembling arms to the wall and bend over, exposing myself to him, arching my back the way he likes. The cold air against my heated skin sends shivers through me. My mind drifts back to his piercings. Oh god, what are those going to feel like inside me?
“Fuck, green eyes, you’re still perfect.” He praises.
So fucking glad I haven’t skimped on my gym time lately.
I whine when he leans over me, trailing his tongue behind my ear before dragging those pillowy lips across my shoulder.
“Ah,” I groan as a sharp bite of pain from his teeth in my shoulder hits before he licks and soothes the burning flesh, peppering my back with kisses.
Holy fuck, he bit me. My dick twitches and I feel precum spill from my crown.
He grabs my dick with one hand and begins stroking me again, his other hand firmly gripping my jaw.
He runs fingers over my lips, then holds out his hand, “Spit.”
Oh fuck.
I obey, spitting into his outstretched hand, my hips chasing the other as his long pulls send me into orbit.
He circles my hole with his spit-slicked fingers and then I feel his breath near my entrance and begin to panic. Oh no, I haven’t showered. Fucking please don’t— the thought is interrupted when I hear him spit on my ass. “Oh, fuck,” I manage between sputtering breaths.
“That’s right,” he grunts. “My perfect little spit-slut on display for me.”
“Yes,” I moan as he breaches my hole and works me open with expert fingers. I will literally be your anything-slut.
“So fucking perfect,” he groans as he works a second finger inside.
It feels so fucking good but it’s still not enough.
“More,” I mewl as he finds a blinding rhythm with his hand and fingers. I rock back onto his fingers, begging for more.
“I’m loving this side of you,” he says. “So damn bossy.”
I can hear the smirk in his voice.
“Yes. Please give me more,” I beg. I’m so far gone I have no idea how many fingers he has inside me, but I know it’s not enough.
He removes his hand from my dick and his fingers from inside me so quickly I fucking whine at the loss, “No, please,” I whimper.
“Shh,” he soothes, “I’m gonna take care of you.”
I look over my shoulder, mouth open in fascination as I watch him roll a condom over his perfect length. I might be drooling.
He rips a packet open with his teeth and I register that he had lube somewhere—impressive.
His eyes meet mine and he smiles before pushing my back down, arching me further as he lines himself up.
I feel him against my hole and shudder. God, yes.
I pull in a deep breath, forcing myself to relax, and then he enters me. My vision darkens at the edges—the searing pain almost unbearable. I breathe through it and then moan as the pain slowly morphs to pleasure.
“More,” I pant.
He laughs, “I’ve got you,” he promises.
His firm grip on my hips is so perfect, the need for more of him so overpowering I can’t help but move against him.
“Fuck, you feel so good. So perfect.” He says.
“Fuck, yes,” I whine.
He runs a hand up my back soothingly, then grips my hips again and inch by fucking inch fills me until his hips are flush against my ass and everything is right again.
It’s perfect. He’s perfect.
The feeling of fucking fullness is better than I remember.
It’s everything.
I feel him move inside me, slowly thrusting into me before dragging himself back out, piercings dragging across my prostate. His upward strokes are like flint against steel, igniting something within me, and it takes my breath away.
I rock up against him, meeting his thrusts and it’s the best fucking feeling. Oh my God.
He’s everywhere and every time he hits that spot inside me I see stars.
The only sounds I can hear are our panting breaths and skin slapping skin and it’s the best fucking thing I’ve ever heard. His balls slap against my taint and I whimper. It’s erotic and wrong and somehow so fucking right. Warmth builds deep in my belly and balls, crawling its way up my back.
“Oh, fuck, oh my god,” I mutter through ragged breaths. “I’m gonna come.”
“Fuck yes, I want to see you come,” he growls as he pounds into me. “Paint the fucking wall.”
Oh, god that’s so fucking hot. I would paint the Mona Lisa if he asked me to.
My arms are threatening to give under the pressure, weakening with every thrust, but I don’t want to eat the wall with my face, so I beg them to hold on just a little longer.
The pressure builds in my groin, that familiar warmth spreading like wildfire.
I unravel beneath him. Jets of cum paint the wall as he fucks up into me, my dick throbbing and spurting in time with his thrusts. I’m wrecked. Undone. Spent.
His hands guide my hips now that I’m offline for what might be an entire work week.
“Oh, fuck, Bailey,” he breathes before his thrusts become erratic and then he slows inside me.
My eyes roll back as I fucking feel him find his release. His dick pulsates inside me as he pants, trying to catch his breath—both of us coming back down from the high.
I give in under his weight, bending my arms until my face is flush against the wall. The cool paint feels good against my skin.
“You okay?” He asks gently.
“I’m so much more than okay,” I sigh, unable to stop the ridiculous smile that splits my face.
He laughs, “Good. Me too.”
His hands find mine against the wall and he covers them with his, lacing our fingers together. It’s such a small gesture, but it feels monumental.