Chapter Twenty #2
Returning my mouth to the tip of his erection, I lick and suck him again, still stroking him with one hand, while I explore with the other. Making sure I have plenty of lube on my finger, I stroke over the tight muscle for a while, not inserting, just brushing lightly.
Gradually, he relaxes, his tense muscles loosening, and hips begin to match my rhythm again. I continue to stroke him beneath his balls with a lube-covered finger, and then, slowly, I press it against the tight muscle beneath.
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” I murmur, and I tease him gently.
This time, he just groans.
I do it again, pressing the tip of my finger against the muscle, very slowly and gently. “Just relax,” I say. “Give yourself to me, baby. I’m going to make you come, and it’s going to feel so good.”
He sighs, and then I feel him consciously try to relax. Gathering up the lube, I tease him again with my finger, then slide it slowly inside.
He groans.
I remove it, then do it again, a little further this time. Slow and gentle, letting him get used to it.
“Fuck…” He gives a deep, heartfelt groan.
“Does it feel good, baby?”
“Ahhh… yeah…”
“You want me to stop, darling?”
“Mmm… no…”
Smiling, I continue, gathering lube, teasing, pressing, inserting. Gradually, I slide my finger a little further. I’ve read what to do, and when I’m up to the first knuckle, palm up, I press up until I find the small swelling. Then I massage it gently.
“Oh,” he says breathlessly. “Oh fuck.”
“Is that nice, my love?”
“Mmm… yeah…”
“Just relax and enjoy it, honey. I’m going to take you all the way now, okay?”
“Oh shit…”
Smiling, I cover the head of his cock with my mouth.
I can only imagine how it feels for him. My mouth licking and sucking. One hand stroking his cock firmly. And the other exploring him, teasing him in the most erotic way possible.
He’s relaxed now he realizes I just want to give him pleasure.
He’s giving himself over to me, thighs wide, completely open, letting himself be vulnerable and defenseless because he trusts me.
I feel almost tearful that he has such faith in me.
This is going to be an emotional nuclear bomb for him, and he has no idea it’s coming.
His breaths have turned into irregular gasps, and his body is slowly tensing again, but in a different way this time. His stomach turns taut, and his thighs tighten as he says, “Ahhh… I’m going to come…”
I think he’s trying to warn me in case I want to move back, because this is the first time he’s come in my mouth, but I just slide my lips down the shaft as I continue to stroke and massage him, and then he tenses and cries out, erupting into my mouth and filling it with his silky liquid.
I take it all, swallowing it down, and only when he gasps and trembles do I lift my head and lick my lips.
“Fuck,” he says, “oh fuck…” His chest heaves.
I kiss up his body and stretch out beside him. Then I remove his blindfold and look into his eyes. “Are you okay?”
He nods, but I can see his emotion near the surface, threatening to overwhelm him. “I think my soul actually left my body for a moment.” His voice comes out as a squeak. That breaks the tension, and we both laugh.
I kiss him, pressing my lips to his a few times. Then I lift my head and say mischievously, “I thought I might go for a ride.”
His eyes light up. “Oh God, yes, please.” He looks up at his hands. “Can I untie them so I can touch you?”
I love that he’s asking me. At this moment, it feels as if he belongs to me entirely, and it’s a wonderful feeling. “If you want,” I say, and he picks at the ties and releases his hands.
I lift up to climb on him, but to my surprise he stops me and says, “Go and wash your hands first.”
I laugh, but he looks me in the eye and says, “I mean it,” so I chuckle and go into the bathroom to wash them quickly before I come back and climb on the bed.
I hold my hands up. “Happy now?”
“I’m tempted to examine your nails,” he says wryly, pulling the pillow lengthwise beneath his head to make himself comfortable. Then he smiles. “Come on. It’s my turn.”
Lifting up, I straddle him, and he rests his big hands on my thighs and helps to guide me onto his mouth. I steady myself onto the headboard behind him, and then I lower myself down.
We both groan, me because the sensation of his tongue sliding into me is just like heaven, and him no doubt because he’s discovered how turned on I am.
Ahhh… there really is nothing like doing this with a man, and with Spencer it feels extra special…
it’s like my birthday and Christmas and Valentine’s Day and warmed caramel and melted chocolate and the bubbles of champagne all rolled into one…
a blissful feeling of warmth and excitement right at my core.
He brushes one hand over the outside of my thigh—a caring gesture that warms me through—and swirls his tongue over my clit while he moves his other hand beneath me.
Ohhh.. fuck… I’m not going to last long like this.
Part of me wonders if he’s going to edge me and make me wait because of what I did to him, but he doesn’t.
He strokes me and explores with his fingers, licking and sucking my clit, and I’m so turned on that it’s only a few minutes before I feel my orgasm begin to build.
I rock my hips, grinding against his tongue while my fingers clutching the headboard, then gasp out loud as my climax hits and my body pulses, clenching around his fingers.
Oh my God it feels so amazing… that moment of pure pleasure that’s like nothing else…
and it must only be seven or eight seconds, but it feels as if it goes on forever.
When it finally stops, I lift off and collapse next to him, and we lie there for a while, staring up at the ceiling, as our breathing returns to normal.
“Mmm.” I feel a surge of happiness and roll onto my stomach to look at him. “Do you have any ice cream?”
He laughs. “Absolutely.” He kisses my nose. “I’ll go and get it.”
I lie there, basking in the post-orgasmic glow, until he returns with three different Duck Island tubs: Cookies and Cream, Peppermint Slice, and something called Blueberry Buttermilk Gooey Butter Cake.
He pops off the tops and passes me a spoon, and we sit in bed and help ourselves, passing the tubs back and forth.
We keep the conversation light, discussing movies and TV series, and testing each other with quotes from our favorites.
When we’ve had our fill of ice cream, he returns the tubs to the freezer, and we decide to take a bath together.
He has a beautiful bathroom, with a large, deep bath, and we sink into the water, up to our chins in bubbles.
“Thank you for wanting to spend your birthday with me,” he says.
“You’re very welcome.”
He picks up one of my feet and massages it. “I would have thought you had lots of better invitations.”
“Better than tying up the most gorgeous guy in the city and giving him an amazing orgasm?” I wrinkle my nose at him, and he chuckles. “Oh, I didn’t tell you what Dad’s present was,” I add.
“You mean the van?”
My eyebrows rise. “You know about that?”
“Yeah, I helped him choose it last month.”
“Oh… I didn’t realize. He didn’t mention you.” My stomach flips. They chose the van together last month… before the auction, and before the headline that announced to the world that he was being tamed.
“How’s the other painting going?” he asks.
I clear my throat. “Not bad.”
Our eyes meet. I know he suspects what Genevieve has asked me to paint.
I change the subject, talking about a new book I’ve been reading, and Spencer listens, smiles, and nods, but he doesn’t say much. Soon after that, we get out of the bath and make our way back to bed.
I’m sure if I ask him if he wants me to go home, he’ll say yes. So I don’t ask. I bring the duvet up over us, and snuggle up close to him. He tucks one arm beneath his head, lowering the other around me, and we lie there in the darkness as our bodies slowly drift down to earth.
I wait for him to speak, but he doesn’t say anything. His hand rests on my back, not moving. For a moment, I think maybe he’s dozed off. But when I eventually lift my head to look up at him, I see that his eyes are open, twinkling in the moonlight as he stares over my head at the view.
I rest my hand on his chest, and my chin on my hand. “Are you all right?”
“Of course.” But his words are clipped, his expression shuttered. He opened up to me, let himself be raw and unfiltered, and now, as I expected, the emotional fall-out is making him feel uneasy.
I’d hoped that it would make him realize he can be totally himself with me. But it’s clear that even if that’s the case, he doesn’t like the feeling. Knowing his penchant for power, it could have made him feel weak.
Maybe he just needs to get used to it. Perhaps after he’s thought about it for a while, he’ll feel more comfortable with opening up to me emotionally, and start considering the idea of us being a couple.
Or maybe he’ll retreat to control, and shut me out completely.
My heart races, but I try not to show my fear. I need to give him time, that’s all.
Should I try and talk to him about it? I open my mouth to say something, but at that moment he says, fairly briskly, “Turn over.”
I close my mouth and do as he bids, and he moves up close behind me, tucking his arm under my breasts.
We lie there in the darkness, not talking, looking out at the cold moon as she shines her cool silvery light down on the flat sea.