Chapter 24
I go to my bathroom to rinse a clean washcloth in warm water, and return to help him clean up. “I’ll do that,” he says, but the words almost come out slurred. He’s practically catatonic.
I giggle as I wipe over him, his clothes, the comforter—he really did come hard—and when I look up, he’s smiling at me, his cheeks still pink from exertion.
Then something occurs to him and he frowns.
“I can’t believe I came before you.” He pushes himself up on shaky arms. “That’s not how this goes. ”
“What’s wrong with that?” I ask.
“It’s just—well. My orgasm is guaranteed and pretty straightforward.
If you’re like most women, then you need more time and finesse.
And it’s my job to prioritize your pleasure, not just because mine is a given, but because—” He looks at me up and down.
“Well. Your pleasure would also be mine.” He pauses, like he wants to say something else, but then he looks down and laughs. “Jesus. My dick is still out.”
“I thought it might need to cool down or something,” I say, and this just makes him laugh even more as he tucks himself back into his pants and zips up.
I’m glad to see he doesn’t redo his belt buckle.
Maybe he would let me jerk him off again in a little bit, once he got over the refractory period.
I’m assuming he has one. I’ve done some research and most men his age do, with an average of thirty minutes.
I check the clock on my nightstand, and Adam says, “Do you have someplace to be?”
“No, I’m calculating the end of your current refractory period.”
He chokes on a laugh this time. “Sky. Don’t worry about me. Here.” He stands and takes the washcloth from my hands and I hear him rinsing it in the sink. When he returns, his eyes are the strangest mix of mischievous and feral. There’s no other way to explain the expression on his face.
“Are you thirsty?” I ask. “Shall I get us water?”
He shakes his head slowly. “The only thing I want right now is to make you come.”
I freeze. “Me?”
He doesn’t respond, not even to point out how stupid a question that was. “If you’re okay with it. I want to do all the things to you that I said I had been imagining all week.”
I swallow, a little bit nervous and excited all at once. “Are you sure?”
Adam tilts his head. “Are you not sure?”
I shake my head. “Don’t answer my question with a question. That’s confusing.”
He nods. “I’m sorry.” He walks toward me, taking my hand in his.
I blink down at our interlocked fingers and realize that this is a familiar gesture by now.
He’s always grabbing my hand when I am nervous or anxious.
“We don’t have to. We could just go down to my car and I will take you wherever you want.
The beach. Dessert. Even Cincinnati, if you had some inexplicable desire to visit.
” He swallows and looks up to meet my gaze.
“But I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.
So, yes. I am sure.” His voice becomes even more raspy and deeper, which I would not have thought possible before this moment.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything than the fact that I want to know what you sound like when you come.
” That…makes my breath catch in my throat.
He squeezes my hand. “But again. We don’t have to.
I never want to do anything unless you’re one hundred percent on board. ”
I nod. “I appreciate your saying that. And I want to. I’m one hundred percent on board. But…” I squeeze his hand back, and he wraps his arm around me to settle his other hand at my hip. “But I want to start slow. Like, really slow. I’m not ready for you to be, like, all in there yet.”
He offers me a wide, reassuring smile that makes the edges of his eyes crinkle up.
“Of course. Anything you want.” He lets go of me and kicks off his shoes and adjusts his shirt sleeves, which had unrolled a little during the whole Coming So Hard He Forgot His Own Name situation.
I watch, swallowing when the veins in his forearms catch in the light. How can a man be so beautiful?
“How do you want me?” I ask.
“On the bed. Sitting.”
I nod and pull the straps of my dress down, and roll the whole thing down my hips, letting it fall to the floor.
I step out of it, wearing nothing but a nude and white lace strapless bralette with a matching G-string.
When I reach behind my back to unclasp the bra, he says, “Wait.” I drop my arms as he explains. “Let me undress you.”
I don’t really see the point, but I nod and sit down on the bed. He sits right beside me. “I want to kiss you first. That kiss just now, when you and I were…” He huffs out a laugh. “Not my best effort.”
“I enjoyed it,” I tell him.
“Good. Let me show you something better, though.”
He cups my face with one hand and leans in.
I close my eyes and just allow the warmth of his lips over mine.
We kiss like this for what feels like a whole minute, and then he nudges my lips open, sliding his tongue gently over my bottom lip.
I do the same to him, almost gasping when our tongues meet.
It starts soft at first, but soon I’m moaning.
One of my hands is tangled in his hair. The hand he’d been cradling my face with is now over my breast. He keeps thrusting his tongue in my mouth, over and over, in a way that makes me think of shallow, hard fucking.
I pull back suddenly and say with breathless intensity, “I’ve changed my mind. I want you inside me.”
His smile is so bright. “I’ll give you whatever you want, Sky. Let me take care of you first, okay?”
I nod. “Okay.”
He has me lie back on the bed, my head on the pillows. “Do you not like it when someone rides your face?” I ask.
He laughs. “You’re going to make me hard again, well before the refractory period’s over.”
“That’s a yes?”
“It’s definitely a yes. But for your first time, I don’t want you to worry about what you’re doing. I just want you to enjoy yourself.”
I nod. “Okay. That makes sense.”
He begins with a light kiss on my lips, then moves down to my neck. I grab his forearms tight, as he sucks in places I didn’t realize would ever have the capacity to contribute to the wet between my legs.
He kisses and sucks my left nipple through the lace of my bra. “That—” I begin, then stop. What if it’s not sexy to tell him when something doesn’t feel right?
He lifts his head to look up at me. “Tell me.”
I shake my head. “It’s nothing.” He raises his eyebrow at me in a silly way, with one pointing this way and one looking that way, like a cartoon or something. I relax and laugh. “Just…it hurts a little bit, with the lace there. It’s not the most comfortable fabric…”
“Got it.” He lowers the straps down, exposing my breasts to the cool air. I feel my nipples pucker even more. They must look like the most insane pencil eraser nips of all time.
This time, he moves to my right breast, and he begins much slower, lapping me up with languid, hot swipes of his tongue. I can feel the electric connection between my nipples and clit, and I’m certain the comforter is soaked between my legs, right through my underwear.
He moves toward the other nipple and gives it the same treatment.
By now I’m squirming and moaning with abandon.
I feel as though if I reached down and barely touched myself, I’d come hard enough to break the space-time continuum.
In fact, I move my hand to do exactly that, but he stops me.
“Don’t you want me to suck it?” he asks, wiggling himself farther down the bed, until I can feel his warm breath over my right hip.
“Don’t you want me to suck your clit till you come all over my face? ”
I inhale shakily. “Are you enjoying this?”
He laughs and I can feel the vibrations of his voice between my legs. “I’m pretty sure I’m harder than I was twenty minutes ago.”
I can barely consider what he’s saying. I’m so horny, I feel like I might burst into flames. I want to squeeze my thighs together, but I can’t, since my legs are spread for him. I squirm, trying to somehow get pressure where I need it the most.
“You need some friction, huh?”
“Please,” I moan. And then he does something I was never expecting. He pulls my G-string up between my legs, until the fabric is pulling right against my clit.
I groan as the pleasure shoots up into my belly. He pulls my underwear this way and that, using it to grind against my slit, getting me fairly close to orgasm without touching me with his hands or mouth at all.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy right now,” he murmurs, shifting my underwear even more. “I wish you could see yourself. God. You’re so wet. You’re so fucking wet.” As though on cue, I hear slick sounds emanating from where the underwear is sliding against me.
“Oh my God,” I whisper as he pulls the panties from my slit and then slides them right to the side and gives me one long, hot lick, from my opening all the way up to my clit. He does it again, and again, and the last time he holds his face still so I’m forced to grind myself against his tongue.
“Sorry. Sorry.” He pulls back with a smile as I whimper. “I said I wasn’t going to make you do any work.”
I’m so far gone, the words out of his mouth have barely any meaning to me. “Make me come. Adam. Please. I need to come. I need it.”
“On it.” He pushes his fingers under the waistband of my underwear and pulls the whole thing down my legs, tossing it somewhere behind him.
He lifts my legs, placing a thigh on each of his shoulders, and dives in.
He laps, licks, and sucks at me. I’m a quivering mess.
Sounds are coming out of me that I’m not sure any human has made before, and I find that I can’t bring myself to care.
And then Adam reaches up and finds my nipples, and he teases my nipples in tune with the way he tongues my clit. When he flicks at them with his fingers, he does the same lower with his tongue. When he slides his warm tongue over my clit, he does the same with his warm thumbs above.
And when he pinches and pulls my nipples as he closes his lips around my clit and sucks, I can’t hold back anymore, not that I was really trying to.
I moan. My body jerks this way and that, as though this orgasm is a wrathful spirit that possesses me for one long, glorious minute.
And it really does last a while. Just when I think it might be finished, a wave of pleasure crests again, and I find myself arching my back so hard, I idly wonder if I can somehow break it from having too powerful an orgasm.
By the time it’s done, I feel even more spent than Adam was after I gave him a hand job.
Catatonic was how he seemed, but feeling it myself, I want to say on the glorious edge of death is closer to the truth.
I feel as though I just experienced so much pleasure, I touched the World of the Dead, the World of Ghosts, all of them, all of them, like some little piece of me exploded and made brief appearances in all the worlds and all the spaces between the worlds.
It was like falling down, spending eight years in the woods, and returning, but as I am now, a woman, and all in a single, mind-blowing minute, thanks to Adam’s clever fingers and tongue.