Chapter Twelve #3
“I’ll figure it out,” I said. “I’ve got more interviews lined up, so…” I tucked my knees into my chest. Nothing had been fixed, but that wasn’t why I’d come. “Thank you for listening.” I’d needed to release a layer of what had been building these past few months, and it was nice not to do it alone.
“Any time.” He extended his palm to me, and I placed mine in his. His thumb rubbed my wrist so gently it almost brought more tears to my eyes.
I liked this. Sharing with him in person.
We’d opened up about similar things over texts, but it had lacked this physical comfort. The connection of running my hand along the lines of his palm and tracing the veins in his forearm. Of fitting my thumb in the divot inside his elbow. Trying to connect my fingers around his bicep.
He chuckled as I failed. “What are you doing?”
I rounded my hands over the swell of his shoulder. “Exploring. Do you mind?”
His laughter was more of a sharp exhale. “No.”
The hot coals of his gaze warmed me as I tucked my hair behind my ears and shifted onto my knees.
I shuffled closer so I could run the backs of my fingers along his square jaw.
His eyes rolled closed, his chin tipping up, and I studied each subtle movement, cataloging his every detail like he was a dish I wanted to recreate.
My fingers scraped over the sandpaper of his stubble, trailing along to gently tug on his earlobe. His ribs expanded as his breaths deepened. I traced the outer shell of his ear, then wandered both hands over his brows, easing the tension in his forehead with my thumbs.
A near-silent groan shook his chest.
His muscles grew tight, his hands in fists at his sides like my touch on his skin pained him. The growing bulge in his shorts said differently.
I did that to him. Made him hard with nothing but a few simple touches nowhere near his sex.
The power of it had my brain going fuzzy and my body heating up, my want for him climbing with each groan he held back.
I ran my hands down the front of his chest and slid my fingers along the hem of his shirt. “Can I?”
Eyes squeezed shut, he nodded.
Dragging his shirt up his torso and over his head was like unwrapping a present. One with lean muscles that had been carved like a river through a canyon. His abs were clenched, the many ridges pronounced, highlighting the V at his waist.
I ran my thumbs over the dips peeking from his waistband, and he sucked through his teeth.
“Do you want me to stop?”
He shook his head on the mat, voice strained. “Do whatever you want to me.”
The deep rasp of his words buzzed along my skin.
I licked below his navel, wanting to memorize the smooth texture of his abdomen. His taste. To map out every inch of this beautiful body he had honed from more than a decade of diligence and commitment to his sport.
His whole torso jumped beneath my tongue. I licked higher, following the line that cut through his stomach to his chest, grazing my hands over the firmness of his pecs.
When my fingers brushed over his nipples, he hissed. His pelvis rocked the smallest amount before he welded his hips to the floor, his cock straining against the fabric of his shorts.
I ran my tongue over his nipple, smiling as it drew to a peak, and let my teeth scrape the lightest bit across it.
When I switched to the other nipple, his head rolled to the side, his breaths coming in pants. Shadows jumped along his stomach as his abs expanded and contracted, his biceps bulging as he forced his body still for my enjoyment.
I almost couldn’t breathe, it was so hot. The fact that he was letting me do it to him here on mats in the middle of the gym, nowhere close to a bed.
A groan escaped him when I hooked my fingers under the elastic of his shorts, and he lifted his hips as I tugged, letting me reveal his cock to the spotlights pinning him to the center of the ring.
“Can I—?”
“Yes,” he choked out. “Anything.” He threw an arm across his eyes, the other bracing the mat above his head, putting more of his flexed muscles on display.
I could hardly believe he was real. His cock jutted over his stomach, curving the slightest bit, the shaft full and thick, the head glistening. A trimmed patch of hair surrounded the base, and I ran my fingers through it before dropping my lips to the inside of his thigh.
His skin burned beneath my touch, raising my own body temperature as I licked and sucked my way higher. I shed my leather jacket and threw it aside, then straddled his knees. He peeked from under his arm, his eyes wild with need, and licked his lips like he wanted to be licking me.
I had the same idea.
Bending slowly, I kissed the very tip of him. It was more of a touch than a kiss, my lips resting on the head of his cock. Then I pulled back to circle him with my hands, exploring the soft skin of his shaft.
He was big in my palm, the way all of him was big next to me. Big and solid and warm, but never in a way I had to fear.
I played with tightening my grip, and the arm that covered his eyes shot to join the other above his head as if to anchor him in place.
It didn’t stop the squirming of his hips.
My tongue darted out for my first taste, and my chest swelled with pride as his breaths sawed in and out with audible gasps.
His sounds were like sugar in my veins, driving my tongue out again and again so I could hear more.
This kind of pleasure was new to me. Not just receiving but giving it too.
I hadn’t realized I was capable of it. That my hands and lips could bring torture so sweet, it brought sweat to the skin and set the air on fire.
I smiled at what else might be possible. Like pushing him all the way over the edge and into the kind of bliss that went on for so long, up no longer had meaning.
Wrapping my lips around him, I lowered as far as I could, pausing when he neared the back of my throat. Saliva pooled on my tongue, and I swallowed on instinct, pulling a choked moan from his lips.
Keeping my hands around his base, I moved my mouth up and down, finding a natural rhythm. With each up stroke, I ran my tongue over his tip, collecting the salty taste of him and letting it fill my senses.
I wanted to know all of him—his taste, his smell, his sounds, his feel. I wanted to learn how to command his body as easily as he commanded mine.
Bolder than I’d ever been, I loosened a hand and trailed it downward over his balls. His cock jumped in my mouth.
“Yes,” he groaned when I hesitated.
I rolled his balls gently, my fingers brushing the skin underneath, drawing another throb from his length.
“Fuck.”
My jaw started to ache, so I freed him from my mouth and stroked him with my hand as my tongue explored his sack. The skin was soft there too.
“God. Harder. Stroke harder.”
I lifted my gaze to find him peering at me down the length of his body. His eyes burned hot and a little wild, his cheeks flushed. I tightened my grip on his shaft and sped up my strokes, and his head fell back against the mat, the ridges of his throat in sharp relief.
I grinned and returned my mouth to his shaft. This time, I tried to go deep but gagged when he reached my throat.
“Hey, easy.” His abs flexed as he curled to brush the hair from my face while I caught my breath, my lips wet with saliva. “You don’t need to do that.”
I licked his tip. “You said anything I want.”
“Yeah, but—”
“I want to try.”
I never had before. Certainly never imagined I would. But his body shook beneath mine, his skin hot, pupils blown wide, and it was the most powerful I’d ever felt in my life.
I had gotten him here. I wanted to see what else I could do.
He collapsed backward, clasping his fingers like he was trying to hold himself back.
I took him into my mouth, pausing when he reached my throat, and forced my muscles to relax.
“Just—go slow,” he grunted. “Go—fuck.”
I took him to the back of my throat and held him there, breathing deeply through my nose. It wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t awful either. Feeling that much of him inside my mouth had my brain sparking and my pussy throbbing for its own taste.
Experimenting with tiny bobs of my head, I ran my fingers up his thighs and over his abs, wishing I had my press-on nails to scrape across his stomach. I tweaked his nipples instead and felt his cock swell.
“I’m gonna come,” he panted.
I pulled my mouth back to his tip, moving my hand over his base.
A groan tore from his chest, and he emptied into my mouth with pulsing spurts, the taste of his precum but stronger landing on my tongue.
I swallowed it down, mesmerized by the feel of him, by the pained look of pleasure on his face, and the way, after a few seconds, his muscles unlocked all at once and seemed to sink into the mat.
I eased him from my mouth and wiped around my lips while he heaved in breaths. His hands made a scooping motion as he tried to speak.
“What?” I giggled.
He lurched forward with a grunt and pulled me on top of him. His lips landed on my cheek, then my nose, possibly looking for my mouth, but his eyes had fallen shut. I helped him out and pressed a kiss to his lips.
His tongue stroked mine as he squeezed my ass. I tried not to squirm over the sensitive skin of his cock trapped between us.
He fumbled with the waistband of my jeans. “Take,” he mumbled between kisses. “These off.”
“Why?” I breathed before licking into his mouth. He didn’t seem to mind the taste of himself on my tongue.
“Because you’re going to sit on my face and ride me until you come.”