Chapter Thirty-One #2
Those words unsettled me. I got that he wanted to eat the ice cream off me, but I was fine with that. After all, it was just ice cream. It couldn’t possibly be more intense than anything we’d done before now.
“Okay,” I said, my voice weak as decaf coffee.
I heard the bag the ice cream was melting in crinkle, then Soyer opened one of the tubs.
“I’m glad he gave you the compostable spoons.”
Before I could answer, something cold plopped down between my shoulder blades. If Soyer hadn’t been there, holding me in place, I’d have bucked up. As it was, he forced me to endure, to savor, before covering the cold spot there with his warm mouth.
“This is…”
“Delicious,” he said before giving me one more lick. “Do you like it?”
“I’m not sure. It’s strange. I think…a few more times would be good.”
He kissed the still-sensitive spot on my back. “That’s the plan.”
Another spoonful dropped, closer to my spine and followed in short order by Soyer licking warmth back into my skin, then again. It was getting more and more difficult to keep still, the interplay of cold and warm a pendulum that made me dizzy and on edge, everything he did magnified.
“You’re doing so well. So well, Amory.”
More ice cream, almost landing on my butt. When he licked it off me, I tensed not just because of how it made me feel. He seemed to notice, because he slowed and began massaging my butt cheek.
“Soyer?”
“Relax. Don’t be scared. I’m going to rim you now.”
I wasn’t sure what that was, but I was too tense, too excited, too overwhelmed to ask, and besides, I had an idea. When he spread my cheeks and cold ice cream dropped there, I screamed, almost kicking before I remembered he was sitting between my legs.
“Ssh. I’ll taste you now.”
This was the strangest thing I had ever experienced, and I had been on fire.
Things collided in my mind—how this was dirty, how I hadn’t even showered. And then, overshadowing that, how this was intense in a whole new way, how Soyer kept licking and licking as if…as if this was…good.
It didn’t take more than a few seconds of his mouth—his tongue—on me to make me sweat. I was wiggling under him, but he kept holding me in place, and his tongue…his tongue teased my opening. All of a sudden, I felt like I had during our first time. Unsure, out of my depth.
Then Soyer stroked my thigh and ran his hand almost to my knee. He was trying to calm me without speaking. His mouth was busy elsewhere, unrelentingly so, and I couldn’t quite relax into that.
But I tried. I tried because I trusted him. I focused on breathing, on feeling, on allowing what he was doing to me to bypass the thoughts I had about it and go right to where I could just surrender into the sensation.
My fingers scraped against the duvet, and I breathed against the fabric, smelling the subtle scent of the detergent Soyer used.
It changed then. All of this was still as foreign as the first time with him had been, but it was…better.
Soyer lifted his head. “Good. That’s good.”
Without so much as a hint, he spooned more ice cream onto me, making me flinch all over again. He kept holding me steady, and then he was licking the ice cream off me again. He was…licking into me.
It was almost too much to take, too much to let go on.
I’d have been lying if I’d said I didn’t enjoy this.
I was hard, maybe just from moving and the friction that had caused against the duvet.
But still, there was no arguing that this was a different kind of closeness, one that wasn’t as easy as what we’d done before, and even that had taken me time to get used to.
Briefly, I wondered whether I could’ve more easily shown Soyer that I wanted this if I’d grown up differently. It was a fleeting thought only. No thoughts could stick in my brain for long, not when he kept doing what he was doing to me.
I was squeezing my eyes shut when I felt the cold of melting ice cream on me a third time. Soyer had only grown more eager. I didn’t understand that, but I didn’t have to. My toes kept moving against the duvet, and I was sticky with sugar and sweat, the heat he’d kissed into me.
When he didn’t just use his tongue but also added his fingers, I saw stars. He kept going, and I shivered and trembled, all of what I was feeling centered in this one spot.
Then, Soyer stopped, leaving me breathing heavily as if I’d run a marathon. He wasn’t done yet though. Still between my knees, he lifted my hips and guided me into a kneeling position, my face still in the sheets.
“My heart, will you look at me?”
I turned, but there was barely light enough to see by. Darkness had fallen before we’d gotten home, and five seconds hadn’t been enough to turn on the lights.
“Soyer…”
“You did well.” He stroked me, and the faint light caught on his muscular arms. “I know that felt strange, but you did well. Do you want to keep going?” His hands drew circles on my butt cheeks. “We don’t have to, but if you want—”
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to use a condom?”
I laughed, but the cotton caught most of the noise. “After all that?”
“Yes.”
I let out a stuttering breath. “No. Without is fine.”
If I’d thought that him…rimming me had been the most intense feeling I’d ever experienced, I was wrong.
I wasn’t sure whether it was the angle or how sensitive he’d already made me, but when he lined up and pushed into me, it was almost enough to make me come.
I had no idea why. My cock was twitching, and Soyer hadn’t even touched it once.
I breathed. In through my nose, out into the sheets, all so I’d last a few more seconds.
Soyer ran his hand down my spine. “I can feel how tightly you’re wound. Don’t hold back, Amory. I want to see you not holding back.”
I wasn’t positive whether it was his words or just the fact that my control had been fading. Regardless, I came. Some of it hit my chest, and my thigh muscles shook. It went long too, maybe because Soyer was moving through my release, stimulating what was already overstimulated.
Even as I was coming down from the high, I felt him, his hold on me tight, his thrusts hard and deep. I was so loose now, so spent that I couldn’t do anything but take this, and that was a different kind of pleasure, one I’d have to sort through later when I could think straight again.
I welcomed his release when it came. He held on to me for long seconds after, keeping our bodies connected, but then he stroked along my spine and pulled out, helping me roll onto my back. He cupped my cheek and ran his thumb over my bottom lip.
“I’ll go run us a bath. You stay right here and don’t move a muscle.” My eyes flicked to the nightstand, and Soyer rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’ll also put the ice cream in the freezer. So long as you don’t move and rest.”
“Soyer?”
“Yes, my heart?”
“That was… I think my back is sticky. From the ice cream.”
He smiled. “I’ll change the sheets. Hush now. Rest.”
He pulled a corner of the duvet over me to make sure I’d not get cold and, like he’d promised, he grabbed the ice cream and ran it downstairs to the freezer before he came back up and turned on the water in the bathroom.
I was getting sleepy when he came to get me. He kissed me, smelling of soap. I wasn’t entirely sure I’d have minded if he hadn’t washed his face before doing that, not tonight.
We lounged in the tub for a long while, and Soyer got me to sit on the couch while he changed the sheets and heated up a wild selection of leftovers for dinner.
I convinced him to watch a history documentary about the Middle Ages with me, so he put his laptop on the coffee table and indulged my questions about what we were seeing and how it matched what he’d lived through.
It wasn’t the documentary I cared about though, it was Soyer’s answers and the little tidbits he added that I was most interested in.
Nothing he chose to share with me would ever bore me, I was certain of that.