Chapter Twenty-Seven
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVE N
CLAIRE
Mark and I managed to keep our hands to ourselves for the rest of the vacation, which was thankfully only two more days. He claimed he wanted me to experience things in a comfortable environment where we wouldn’t be interrupted by the sounds of people stomping past our room and where we wouldn’t have to worry about others hearing us.
The idea that we would need a place where we could make noise had made me even more curious about how all of this will go…
The plane ride home hadn’t been nearly as bad as the one there now that I knew what to expect, but Mark still made sure to sit next to me and hold my hand during takeoff and landing. He may say he’s not cut out for relationships, but all of his actions seem to suggest otherwise.
When we finally step through the door of Mark’s apartment and drop our suitcases, everything seems almost as awkward as it did the first time I came here. We’re looking at each other, gauging the other’s interest while trying not to be too obvious about it.
"I’m going to put my clothes in the washer if that’s alright," I say, because standing here pretending we’re both not thinking of tearing each other’s clothes off is torture.
"That’s fine. I’m going to take a shower." He sounds about as awkward as I feel as he runs a hand through his hair before heading down the hall.
It’s been two whole days since he showed me how I could make myself feel by touching myself, and all I can think about now is how it will feel when he touches me instead.
A couple hours later, the apartment is quiet aside from the distant hum of the dryer and the soft tapping of rain against the windows. I heard Mark getting out of the shower over an hour ago, and he hasn’t emerged from his room since.
Assuming he must be sleeping when I don’t notice any light coming from under his door, I tiptoe into the kitchen for a late-night snack. We had eaten on the way home, but the time difference from our trip must be messing with my hunger cues.
The small light above the stove provides just enough illumination for me to find my way around the kitchen. I decide to keep it simple and make myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, which I take to the small table near the window, and I sit in the dark watching as the drizzle outside turns into sheets of rain whipping in the wind.
A dark form appears in my peripheral vision, and I jump at the sudden intrusion. Mark stands there, his hair still slightly damp from the shower, wearing nothing but a low-slung pair of sweatpants. My breath hitches at the sight of his bare torso illuminated by the soft yellow light coming from the kitchen.
"Sorry," he says. "Didn't mean to startle you."
I swallow hard and force myself to stop staring. "It's okay. I just didn't realize you were still up."
His dark eyes are locked on mine as he steps closer to where I sit. "I couldn't sleep," he admits. "Too many thoughts running through my head."
I know the feeling. My own mind has been a whirlwind for the past couple days, desperate for his touch yet curious about his aversion to relationships.
Instead of saying that, I reply, "I understand. I was just getting a snack." I gesture to the now-empty plate on the table in front of me.
"I see." The air between us is thick with tension, the same electric energy that's been building since the moment we met. It pulses through my veins even stronger now that we’ve crossed the line of physicality.
"Claire," he says, "About what happened on vacation..."
"What about it?" If he tries to tell me it was a mistake or that he doesn’t want to explore things with me anymore, I might implode. Especially after opening my eyes to the possibilities, letting me hope, and then—
"Are you sure you want to continue that?" he asks, interrupting my concerns. "I just want to make sure you don’t feel pressured to do anything you don’t want to."
Oh, thank God. "Yes, I do want to, and I don’t feel pressured. I want to explore everything with you." My instinct is to look away, to hide my embarrassment at speaking my desire, but I don’t. I hold his gaze, knowing how important it is for him to see that I mean what I say.
"And you’re okay with this arrangement being purely physical?"
"Yes," I whisper, even as I secretly hope more might come of it.
His eyes darken as he takes a step closer. He towers over me as he reaches out to cup my cheek, and I stop breathing when he brushes his thumb against my lower lip.
His expression shifts into an approving but predatory smile that sends shivers down my spine. "Good," he says. "I want to teach you something else if you’re up for it."
"What's that?"
He takes my hand, lifts me to my feet, and leans in so his lips are brushing against the shell of my ear. "I want to teach you how to suck my cock."
My eyes widen, heat rolling through my body at his words. Not knowing how else to respond, I simply nod as I stare up at him. Lying in bed with him on our vacation, it was clear how vast our size difference was, but standing here pressed against him and craning my neck upward to look into his eyes, it’s even more pronounced.
Better yet, I love the way that it makes me feel. Small but protected, delicate and at his mercy. But the best part about it is I know he’ll show me the utmost respect, so I don’t have to be afraid by giving him control.
He takes my hand, guiding me toward the living room, and I can’t help but love the way his hand envelops mine. Sitting down on the couch, he pulls me to sit beside him and keeps his eyes locked on mine.
"First," he says, "I want you to understand that this is about pleasure, for both of us. If you stop enjoying this at any point, don’t continue. Say ‘stop,’ and we will stop. I will never get upset with you if you change your mind about what we’re doing, and I trust that you’ll speak up for yourself. Okay ?
"Okay."
He smiles, his hand reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "Good. Now, I want you to touch me. Explore my body, the same way you explored yours the other night. However and wherever you want."
I hesitate for a moment then reach out to trace the line of his jaw, down the curve of his neck, over the muscles of his chest. He's warm and solid beneath my touch, and the way his breathing picks up as my hand moves lower and lower affects me just as much as it seems to be affecting him.
It takes a moment before I work up the courage to trace my fingers down to the waistband of his sweatpants, and it’s impossible to ignore the massive bulge just below.
My heart races, and, as if sensing my hesitation, Mark says, "Go ahead. Touch me, baby." He hooks his fingers over the waistband and slowly pulls down his pants, exposing inch by inch of muscular thighs, and then…
His erection springs forth past the tension of the fabric. Oh. My. God.
My hand glides over the hard muscle of his thigh before I gingerly wrap my fingers around his erection. It feels… different than I expected, hard and sturdy but with thin, soft skin. His breath catches in his throat as I move my fingers, and I pause to look up at him.
"Does it hurt?"
He smiles softly. "No, it feels amazing. Here," he says, wrapping his hand over my own. "You can squeeze a little harder, then move up and down." I let him guide me, showing me exactly how he likes to be touched, until he lets go and allows me to continue on my own.
He groans as I stroke him, his head falling back against the couch. "That's it. Just like that. "
Emboldened by his response, I continue to stroke him, my confidence growing with each passing moment. I look up at him to gauge his reaction under his hooded gaze.
"Can I do more?" I whisper.
He smiles and reaches out to brush my hair back over my shoulder. "Use your mouth," he says. "Kiss, lick, suck, but be careful with your teeth. Take your time to explore. There's no rush."
My heart pounds in my chest as I lean down and press my lips against the tip. He's soft and smooth, and I can taste a faint saltiness. I do what he said, kissing and flicking my tongue out to explore the ridges of sensitive skin.
When I wrap my lips fully around the tip and use my tongue to lick up the line on the underside of his cock, Mark groans again, his hand tangling in my hair. "That's perfect," he says. "Now, try to take me in further and suck in the same way you were stroking me before. Up and down. Slowly. Just a little at a time."
I do as he says, my lips parting to take him in. He's big, though I have no prior experience to compare him to anyone else, and I don’t think I’ll be able to take him all the way. I suck him in slowly, inch by inch, my tongue swirling around his shaft as I go.
"Fuuuuck," he half-whispers, threading his fingers through my hair but not putting any pressure on my head. He’s still letting me go at my own pace, which I appreciate. "You’re so fucking good at this."
I moan with my lips around his cock, partly in acknowledgment and partly because his words turn me on much more than they should. The desire to make him feel as good as I felt the other night overwhelms me, and I attempt to take him even deeper .
Needing to take a breath, I pause to look up at him, my eyes watering slightly. He's watching me with dark eyes and parted lips. I can see the effect I'm having on him, and it spurs me on, making me want to give him more.
"You can use your hand at the same time," he says. "Stroke me while you suck me. The tip is the most sensitive part, so you can focus your tongue there and use your hand for the rest."
I do as he says, wrapping my hand around the base of his cock and stroking him in time with my mouth. The combination of sensations seems to drive him wild, and his hips lift in rhythm with my strokes.
"God, that feels good," he growls.
I continue to stroke him, my confidence growing with every soft moan and gasp that escapes his lips. It’s a heady feeling, knowing that I can bring this powerful, confident man to his knees with just my mouth and hands.
"Claire," he warns, his hand tightening in my hair. "I'm close. If you don't want me to come in your mouth, you should pull back now."
Moaning again to let him know I heard him but am not stopping, I continue to work his cock with my hand and mouth. I want to taste him, to know what it’s like to feel him come undone beneath my touch.
He stills a fraction of a second before groaning and pulsing in my mouth. I’m not sure what to expect, but it isn’t unpleasant, and I swallow it down quickly while keeping my lips wrapped tightly around his cock.
When I’m sure he’s finished, I sit up and wipe my mouth with my sleeve, grinning at him when he catches my eye.
"I’m not gonna lie, I’m really fucking impressed." He grins back. I’m not sure if he means it sincerely or if it was just because that was my first time sucking dick, but either way, I’ll take it.
"I have a good teacher," I quip. "So, do you want to watch a movie or something?"
He raises an eyebrow, pinning me with a stare that makes my stomach flip. "Oh, I’m not done with you yet."