Chapter 29
Miriam
The walk back to my room is a silent rhythm of steps. Who needs an in-depth discussion about sex toys and their function? It’s bad enough I can’t get Antonio out of my head, only for him to find me with all of the clitoral stimulators I could carry.
He doesn’t appear fazed. In fact, he hasn’t said a word since offering to hand-deliver the objects of my displeasure back to the corner where they belong.
The stare that’s trained on my back lifts the hairs on my nape under a bun of two-strand twists. I don’t understand him. Why’s he in our suite and not out doing whatever it is bachelors do in Vegas?
When we get to my room, I turn to face him. “Thank you for your assistance,” I say to his chest and push up my glasses. “Breakfast tomorrow?”
“Sit on the bed.”
“Pardon?”
“Sit. On. The. Bed.”
I force myself not to laugh at the man in front of me, who has newly cleaned sex toys in his hands and a crease in his forehead. There’s a joke here I’m not getting.
“I don’t understand.”
Antonio steps closer, forcing my eyes back up well-proportioned pectorals to a calm gaze that’s masking something below the surface. It’s the same stare he had right before he kissed me at the pool.
“It’s late,” I whisper over the uptick of my pulse. “I’m sure you want to go back out tonight.”
“I came straight here after going out with some of the guys.”
“Oh.” I nod.
“Are you done playing with yourself?” He says the words like I spent hours stuck on a Battletoads level and not searching for the cheat code to my vagina.
My cheeks flame. “Please don’t make fun of me.” I prefer reason over emotions, but I still feel.
“I’d never do that, Doe,” he says softly. “I want to help.”
Is he…oh.
Antonio tosses the toys onto a chair in the corner and adjusts himself. The bulge from the living room is now a girthy outline across his left thigh.
How does he play in rugby shorts with that between his legs?
The question dissolves when his hand tips up my chin. “Do you want my help?”
“I—” Good damn, I can’t think with him staring at me like that. My breath stutters at the gentle stroke to my cheek.
Logical reasoning tells me that no toy will solve the issue of Antonio’s kiss extending beyond the platonic boundary we established years ago.
My lack of orgasm suggests the need for an alternative, one I shouldn’t consider.
Based on testimonials alone, he has a history of satisfying women across geographic borders.
I’m attracted to him, but, more importantly, I trust him.
Ovulation plus his pheromones have me feral. I was one frustrated sigh away from howling at the moon, and that was before him and his chemical signals aroused my nervous system.
A night with Knight. “Just for tonight,” I say.
He kisses my nose. “Go sit on the bed.”
We’re doing this.
Moonlight dips through the window, illuminating rumpled sheets and discarded pillows. The mattress gives beneath my weight. I release a shaky breath to steady my heart, which is somersaulting in my chest.
“You’re beautiful.”
I bite my lip. “Thank you.”
My throat tightens at his footsteps. His knee seeks entry between my thighs, and I part them. I lean back to create space he suffocates with his hard body.
“Wait.” My palm vibrates against his heart beating wildly through iron muscle. “No vaginal penetration.” The hardware digging into my leg might leave dents. I’m also not playing with my health, assuming he was offering community penis on the Vegas Strip.
He lifts my palm to kiss the inside of my wrist. “Wasn’t planning on it. Lie back.”
How is he so calm?
At the low command, I sink back into the comforter, close my eyes, and release a calming breath that gallops when my nightgown lifts above my thighs. Heat presses into my dampened underwear, and I bite back a moan at the weight of Antonio’s groin.
“Breathe.”
“I’m finding it.” My inhale is a slow, steady hiss at the friction between my legs, which have to stretch to accommodate his size. He’s overwhelming.
Breathe in.
“Miriam.”
Breathe out.
“Yeah?”
“Look at me, baby.” I pop an eye open at the smooth, velvet edge of his voice. “Do you feel comfortable continuing?”
My nod takes a forehead kiss to dissolve. “It’s been a while since—five years and eight months since someone was this close. I’m not…I haven’t—”
The feel of his lips on mine snatches me off the raceway that is my mind.
I reach for the trimmed fibers of his beard and moan when he leans into my touch. Antonio is a skilled kisser. Dominant but also gentle, giving me the space to explore his lips.
I like it. A lot.
He pulls back to search my face. “Tell me if it’s too much?”
“Okay.”
His biceps flex as they cage me in. “Can I put my mouth on you?”
I huff.
“Just straight to it, huh? Yeah, okay.”
The smile he gives me is deceptive. There’s nothing friendly about the first swipe of his tongue over my neck. Or its trail from my collarbone down my cleavage.
“Oh.” I pant as his breath fans over my right breast. The mix of heat from his mouth and cool air crystallizes the tip, and he swirls his tongue over it through my nightgown. Then he tugs on the wet cotton and grazes my nipple with his teeth.
“These are perfect.” He tugs my straps together to expose my nipples and skims them with his thumbs.
I nearly come from the sensation and his deep groan. He’s staring, marveling at their size. “Fucking perfect,” he whispers before pushing them together to suck. The laps of his tongue and the scrapes of his teeth put my toys to shame.
“Antonio.”
“Stay still for me.”
I writhe beneath him, rocking my hips into his. Pressure builds before it shatters. I moan loudly and fight a cramp in my toes.
He releases my breasts to grip my chin. “Good?” His tongue dips into my mouth at my nod, and then he’s off the bed. His eyes never leave mine as he removes his boxer briefs. The breath in my lungs snags on his length. It’s firm and thick with a slight curve.
“On second thought, maybe I’ll stick with the toys.” He snickers, but I’m dead serious.
What does he expect? I’ve only had sex twice in my life, and I’m nowhere near prepared to deal with that.
Game over.
“You’ll get used to me.” He bites his lip and runs his hand from the base to the tip. The motion contracts the muscles in his torso as he steps between my thighs and balances his weight on his forearms.
Inches apart, he kisses me with a softness that rivals the penis that’s hardening against my leg. But my nerves subside, and I get lost in the ecstasy of his tongue.
“I’ve wanted to do this for three years,” he murmurs against my lips. His erection rolls over the seat of my panties.
A slow hum builds in my core as he lifts to a push-up and thrusts harder. The cotton between us is a flimsy barrier he pulls to the side to drag his thumb over my seam. I gasp at the pressure on my clitoris.
“You’re fucking soaked, Doe,” Antonio grunts. “Can I taste you?”
“I—what?” My heart rate is running for its life. “No one has ever done that to me.”
He looks up. “Will you let me be your first?”
My last sexual partner only cared about getting himself off. Never once did he stare at me with affection the way Antonio does.
“Okay.”
The lingering huskiness in my tone fades when his hands travel to the apex of my thighs. “You know, we could skip this.” I squirm. “Ice cream and brownies! You like sweets, and isn’t today your cheat day?”
“I got my brownie in front of me.”
A finger breaches my barrier.
“Oh, but I heard their sweets are world-renowned. Imported chocolate.”
“Have it here.” He kisses my sensitive flesh, dangerously close to my opening.
I muffle a gasp. “Caramel.”
Another kiss. “Have it.”
My hips buck at his breath over my skin. Down there. Where no one’s been.
“What about—”
He replaces his fingers with his mouth, and I lose it.
The sounds coming from me are a mix between a broken respirator and a skipping record.
I grip his head to ride the tidal wave that is his tongue as it crashes into me.
Why on earth did I spend years filling my head with engineering and science instead of getting head?
It’s fantastic.
It’s—oh!
Antonio pins my thighs apart and eats me like a mango from my mother’s tree. The slurps and strokes of his tongue are a deadly combination.
Did he skip dinner?
My cries rise into an aria when he stretches his mouth to cover me and sucks. His tongue is back on my clit, strumming another orgasm to the surface. His hand flies over my mouth as I shout like Patti LaBelle selling one of her sweet potato pies.
Antonio reaches my lips. “Taste your pussy.” He feeds me his tongue. I do my best to oblige, but my soul is stuck on the ceiling.
How do people have sex for hours?
I cut my eyes at his chuckle. “Don’t tap out now. We’re just getting started,” he has the nerve to say.
My brows snap together, and he rolls that magical length over my soaked vagina.
“Look at us,” he mumbles.
I lift onto my elbows, my hair a mess, my breath running in circles. My jaw slacks at his penis gliding over my damp entrance. The sensation shoots a flare through my veins.
“Don’t stop,” I moan, rolling my nipples between my fingertips. Let my soul stay on the ceiling. She’s fine there.
“Fuck, Doe,” Antonio growls.
He presses himself against me with more force, careful not to penetrate the boundary I set. He wraps my panties around his shaft and strokes himself while thrusting harder.
My juices drip down the sheets I’m squeezing to death. The squelches from his body on mine are a soundtrack to our moans. My breasts bounce, and my breath becomes a spurt of pants as another orgasm awakens.
Antonio slows his pace to quicken his hands working over his shaft. His eyes are on me when he comes undone. The muscles in his abs tighten as cum saturates my underwear and skin.
It takes a minute for the high to wear off. “Was that okay?” Sweat covers his brow.
For reasons unbeknownst to me, I laugh. It’s delirious, because who am I?
“No notes.” I fall back on the bed and savor the remaining tremors heating places no man has touched until tonight.
I always dreamed about getting eaten out.
Now I understand the concept of crashing out over someone.
Antonio isn’t my man, but he would have me catching arson and battery charges like Mario coins if he thought about dropping off this dick to someone else.
It deserves its own Magic School Bus episode, exploring the wonders of humping and the joys of orgasm.
I’m happy, sleepy, and doped up on oxytocin.
“Bless your penis,” I say through a yawn.
He cackles and pulls me to my feet. “Let me clean you up.”
“I got it.”
Gravity and shaky legs prove me to be a liar. My hands fly to his chest, and I grip it to keep from falling over. I need a shower and some Icy Hot.
“Don’t laugh!” I snicker. I look like Kym Whitley after Shemar Moore put his mouth on her.
“Can you make it to the bathroom by yourself?”
I trip over my foot but catch myself. “Yes.”
“No.” I’m scooped up bridal style.
“Put me down! I can walk.”
“Into a wall.” He adjusts his grip.
The bathroom comes to life with the flick of a switch. Gold and white wallpaper reflects in the mirrors across from the frameless glass shower. Antonio sits me on a stool and fiddles with the settings.
“I’ll join you after I get our bed ready,” he says, halfway in the glass enclosure to check the temperature. His penis slaps his thigh.
Focus.
“Our?” I adjust my glasses. It’s a miracle they haven’t fogged.
“I’m pretty sure we sweat through your sheets.”
“You want to shower and sleep together?”
He steps out and folds his arms. “Did I not just have my mouth on your pussy and my dick on your stomach?”
We crack up.
“Don’t be so vulgar.” I snort on accident.
He shrugs. “Why be shy now? I’ll order the brownie you were moaning about.”
“I wasn’t moaning.”
“Fooled me.” His eyes snap shut, and his voice rises. “‘Antonio. They’re world-renowned!’”
“Get out!” I push his body, which is doubled over in laughter, and fight back a smile. “This night with Knight is over.”
He stills. “What?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know. I’ve heard stories.”
“What stories? My eyes are up here, Doe.”
Then tell your penis to stop waving at me.
“What stories?” he repeats. The playfulness in his tone is at a simmer now.
My smile falls at his stare. “It’s no secret how you are.”
“How am I? I want to hear you say it.”
“Friendly with your—” I gesture to his length, which is about to take a bow. “Lala. Lisa.”
“Lisa?”
“Jalisa.”
He frowns. “How do you know Jalisa?”
“She went to college with my sister. They’re somewhat close, though that’s questionable,” I say, uncomfortable with having a conversation about the degrees of separation between me and his hookups. “I’m not judging. Do you—or them.” I look away. “I know what this is.”
He steps forward and lifts my chin. “What was tonight for you?”
“Satisfying. Confusing. A line we shouldn’t cross again.”
It takes several seconds for Antonio to blink. “You want things to stay the same?”
A crease burrows between my brows at the scowl marring his face. “I’m not naive. I know what this is: you getting me off. I’m sure it’s not the first or last time you’ll help one of your friends.”
“Friends.” He laughs to himself. “Yeah, sure. Go get cleaned up. I’ll call down for new sheets and hop in after you.”
“Okay,” I say to his back. “Antonio?” He glances over his shoulder halfway through the door. “You don’t need to worry about me catching feelings. Nothing will change between us.”
I get a nod before I’m left in a cloud of steam.