Chapter 24 #2
Rosalie takes me as deep into her mouth as she can fit. Hollowing her cheeks and running her tongue along the bottom space of my cock, just how I like it. The groan that claws out of me comes from deep in my center, where pleasure erupts uncontrollably.
“Fuck, Rosalie.”
Before I can finish unbuttoning my shirt, my hand finds its way back to her cheek. The shape of my dick fucking in and out of her mouth presses through her skin and into my palm. Slowly and gently. The hand lost between her legs is working slowly, too.
My jaw clenches. It’s not hot enough or rough enough for her. My body responds naturally to the heat of her mouth, but it’s nowhere near the pleasure of seeing Rosie fall apart.
Grunting, I carelessly rip my dress shirt open. I think the buttons go flying across the room, but I’m not sure. I don’t really give a fuck about anything that’s not Rosalie kneeling in front of me.
“You want it rougher?” I spit out the question. I know the answer, but I ask just to see her eyes gloss over.
Still sucking my cock far into her throat, fisting the inches that won’t fit, Rosalie moans loudly. Recklessly. Her eyes roll while I grip the back of her skull. I’ll help her fix her hair later.
Through gritted teeth, I ask, “Do you want me to fuck your mouth? Is that the only way that pussy is going to come?”
I watch her. See how her chest starts moving irregularly, and the arm working over her pussy starts moving faster. Her sucking gets sloppy. Less hollowing, more gasping, tongue not as predictable.
Sweat gathers across my forehead. My own breathing turns more rapid, observing Rosie start to lose herself to the pleasure. I need to give her more.
“If it’s too much, squeeze my thigh.” I mumble, running my thumb tenderly across her skin before that hand finds the other, lacing behind her head.
Rosalie’s fucked-out expression is all it takes for me to flex my forearms and give her what she needs.
“You’re going to choke on this fucking cock. You’re going to take it.”
I don’t give her a second to adjust. She doesn’t want one.
I fuck deep into her mouth, tip hitting the back of her throat.
Rosalie coughs and groans and sputters—and the hand fingering her pussy moves faster.
When the obscene mix of spit and precum dribbles off her chin, I see the familiar shake of her torso.
Orgasm creeping up on her faster than she can control.
Knowing she’s on the edge sends heat blaring through my body too.
I grit out, “I didn’t even have to touch you.
You just like choking on cock that much.
” The dirty words do it most for her. Her cheeks stop hollowing.
The hand at the base of my cock disappears under her leather skirt.
She gives up on pleasuring me, to press more fingers into her pussy, and it’s the sexiest thing that’s happened all night.
“You’re going to come from sucking cock. Dirty fucking girl.” I thrust in and out of her with no set rhythm. Too focused on watching her fuck herself with two hands under her dress. “I want that orgasm before I cum down your throat. Come, Princess.”
It slams into her. Rosalie is so lost in the shattering orgasm—eyes rolled back, body going limp while she fucks herself open—she doesn’t even notice my cock falling out of her mouth. I don’t notice my glasses slipping off the bridge of my nose until the gorgeous vision of her becomes blurry.
I pump my cock furiously while she works herself through it. I take every second in carefully. I’ll never take for granted seeing this beautiful of a show.
There’s droplets of sweat rolling down my neck by the time Rosie regulates her breathing. My hard cock is pulsing, waiting. I’m biting down on my lip harsh enough to pull blood, holding myself from coming before she’s ready for it.
But I’m patient. I’ll wait forever if Rosie tells me to.
Mercifully, she doesn’t make me wait long. My girl leans up on her knees again, smiles through her smudged mascara, and opens her mouth.
It’s three seconds of my tip dragging across a damp tongue before I’m shooting cum down Rosalie’s throat. She hums while swallowing every thick drop. I shake, from the soles of my feet to the crown of my scalp, and remember I’m the luckiest man in the fucking world.
Rosie stumbles when she stands. I’m tucking myself back into my underwear and catching my breath while holding her steady.
Her hair is a mess. Gold headband moved completely out of place and bun loose in all the wrong places.
I swoop down to catch her in a kiss before she can glance at the mirror and notice.
“Good?” I ask between lips pressed together and playful swipes of tongues.
“So fucking good. I’ve always wanted to do something in a public bathroom.”
It hits me all at once. Where we are. What led to this. What we were doing.
We’re at this club with our friends, for fucks sake.
“Oh my gosh. They’re going to kill us if they find out.”
I’m being deadly serious when I say it. I’m barely holding onto the high of standing up to someone. Facing my friends with a very clear “I just came in the club bathroom” face is far from things I’m prepared to do.
Rosie’s arms wrap around my waist, under my dress shirt. She presses her chest to my torso and I can feel her laughing.
I think the situation is a bit devoid of humor, but her giggles calm everything.
“We’re adults. I’m sure they’ll understand if we want to fuck around in a bathroom on Halloween night. Even if they don’t want to see it, they’ll have to accept it.”
“They have to?”
“Well, yes.” Her hand reaches into my left slack pocket, where I tucked away the small items she didn’t want to hold onto, and she pulls out her maroon lipstick.
A fresh coat is applied, and a kiss mark gets pressed into my chest, before Rosie says, “You ripped your buttons off. You’re walking out of here like this regardless. ”
I must turn as red as her kisses.
The mess we’ve made is unmissable. White buttons are scattered across the floor, my once-pristine green jacket is now wrinkled, and there’s a dark, wet spot stained exactly where Rosalie would’ve been dripping.
I have to look away to keep my head on right.
“I guess they do have to accept it.”
She doesn’t respond with words. Only actions. Marking me with more kisses up and down my torso, and a smile of hers that’s too mischievous for her own good.
“There. Perfect.”
Heated embarrassment still covers my skin.
I still feel nervous when we pick the pieces of my outfit off the floor and decide to toss them in the trash.
The shyness doesn’t disappear when we adjust ourselves, walk past the line of patrons waiting for the other bathroom, and Rosie asks to dance before finding our friends.
I can never say no to her.
On the dance floor, I awkwardly bop back and forth to a beat I don’t know. I wonder if I’m too clumsy to be with the most captivating woman in the building, but then she smiles at me. With the flashing lights covering her features, she makes my insecurities disappear, and my worries feel small.
I’m exposed, but protected. Shy, but brave. Quiet, but heard.
I don’t know how long we spend dancing together and ignoring everyone else in the room, but Liliana eventually finds us.
She yells over the music that Grant caught Derek making out with a random girl, and now he feels awkward, so we’re hopping to another club.
I try to cover my chest with what’s left of my dress shirt when the group reunites, but Rosalie smirks and pulls the fabric open again.
The rest of the night is a cycle. Find a club, realize I’m lucky enough to be with a girl as enchanting as Rosie Mendoza, spend time with friends I’ll be grateful to for a lifetime, then repeat.
We get home eventually. Wash up together, and have a round of slow, lazy sex, before laying in bed holding each other.
It’s late into Saturday pancakes-for-dinner when I realize I spent the better part of the night without thinking of my father.