Chapter 28
The restaurant is called Blackstone Crossing, which sounds more like a train station to me, but the inside is exactly what Adam had promised: completely romantic and cozy.
While the outside was a three-story home with an almost industrial, chipped-paint look, inside it’s all small converted bedrooms with only three or four tables in each one.
The windows are open to various views—trees, the ocean, the parking lot, still pretty and filled with flowering bushes—and each table is covered in a cottagecore, red gingham pattern.
Wall lanterns accompany the table candles, making everything flicker in golden orange, and I feel like I’ve stepped into a restaurant run by a happy hobbit or something.
“This is lovely,” I whisper to him as we wait for our table.
He smiles at me. “I’m glad you like it.”
We’re seated in a blissfully private corner.
I order the pecan-crusted fried chicken with mashed potatoes and sautéed peas.
Adam gets the blackened scallops with cheesy grits and collard greens.
We chat so easily that it feels like the food arrives in only a minute, and it’s so good that I moan with every bite.
Adam’s face gets pinker and pinker until I straight up ask him, “Is my eating making you hard?” And he sputters in a way that the answer can only be yes.
As soon as we get back in his car after eating, I climb on top of him and kiss him. We make out slowly at first. Sweetly. His hands reach my ass and grab me tight, and when I moan, our kiss becomes frantic and hurried, like we only have minutes to fuck before the world implodes.
“Your place or mine?” he asks, breaking the kiss breathlessly.
“I don’t want William to hear me having an orgasm,” I respond. “And Nadia is never home.”
“Got it. And yeah, I don’t want Gramps to hear you having an orgasm, either.”
I chuckle and we kiss again, and Adam pulls back, laughing. “We gotta stop or I’m going to come right now, Sky.”
I push up and look down. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” He drops his head back. “I don’t understand this. How out of control you make me feel.”
I shrug. “It’s hormones. Oxytocin and dopamine and serotonin.” I climb back in my seat and glance up to see him shaking his head.
“No. Because this has never happened before, with women I’ve had flings with. It’s something else.”
“Hmm,” I say, wondering what it could be—it has been a long time for him, hasn’t it?—but he shakes his head and turns on the car before I can form another thought on the matter.
“I want you so badly. I’m going to have to restrain myself from breaking multiple speed limits.”
I can feel how wet I am between my legs without even squeezing my thighs.
I wonder what it would be like to tease Adam in a place where he can’t really participate—only observe.
So I lift my skirt and slide my hand up my right thigh.
When I pass my fingers over my panties, I gasp.
I, too, am really close to coming. Really close.
“Oh Christ. Sky. Are you touching yourself right now?” He glances at my skirt. “You are, aren’t you?”
“Do you want me to stop?” I ask.
“Hell no. Fuck no. I’ve thought about this too much. Watching you. Fuck, this is so hot.”
I slide my fingers under my panties and moan when I feel how slippery I am. “I’ll come if I keep doing this.”
“I want you to. Please.” Adam’s voice is nearly a whine.
I work myself, squirming and shifting my hips all around as I gasp and moan.
A couple of times, Adam grips himself at red lights, which only makes my fingers go even faster.
He pulls into the driveway and hits the brakes a little too hard.
I slide forward and the pressure between my underwear and fingers makes me break apart instantly.
The orgasm is fast and hard and afterward, I collapse against the seat, my hand still under the skirt of my dress.
Adam pulls my arm up and wraps his lips around my still very wet finger. “Oh my God,” I whisper as he cleans me up with his tongue. The warm, wet feel of him and the noise of licking is already making another orgasm build up.
“You taste so fucking good,” he murmurs, his eyes heavy-lidded and his deep voice unbearably raspy.
“Let’s go inside,” I say, taking my hand back to open the door.
“Good idea.”
We make out against the porch door as soon as we’re in.
In the kitchen, he places me on the table and steps between my legs and grinds his erection at my core.
He kisses me and pulls the top of my dress down so that my breasts are exposed to the cool air.
My nipples tighten further under his mouth, and he reaches between my legs and does the same thing to my clit with his fingers that he’s doing with his tongue on my nipples.
I love that he learned so easily what I like. That he remembered. That he listened to my reactions and responses. It’s exactly how I imagined it would be, with Adam.
Then he lowers himself to his knees, and before I understand what’s happening, my underwear is tossed somewhere on the green linoleum floor and his tongue is smooth and hot against my clit.
This orgasm is slow. The buildup takes so long, but when I finally come, it is syrupy and strong and lasts forever.
After I’m finished convulsing all over his face, he jumps up, kisses me again, and then does what he says he was going to do earlier.
He tosses me on his shoulder and takes me upstairs, one hand on the backs of my knees and the other on my ass.
“Do you like your ass fingered?” he asks on the way up.
“I—don’t know?” I can barely speak. The blood is rushing to my head all at once.
Soon enough, he gently places me on my bed and we kiss again. “We can find out whenever you’re ready if you like that.”
“Okay,” I respond as his lips reach my neck. “Um. I have condoms.”
“Me too. Do you have a preference on the kind you like?”
“Um. Well, as you know, it’s been a while. But I think the ones that are thin, like a second skin? And smooth. I remember hating anything ribbed.”
“Got it.”
We kiss more, and he pulls back to unbutton his shirt, basically ripping it off once it’s open.
He pulls his undershirt over his head, exposing his beautiful, freckled chest. Before he can reach for the buckle of his pants, I stand and pull him toward me, kissing him as I wrap my arms around his waist. I moan when his chest hair brushes my nipples, still bare from when he pulled my dress and bra down in the kitchen.
Breaking the kiss, I open his belt buckle and reach in, grabbing him and squeezing. He gasps against my neck and I love it. I love listening to the sounds of his pleasure, and feeling it, too, with his heavy breathing on my skin.
He pushes his pants down and kicks them off, and I do the same with my dress and underwear.
He urges me to lie back against the pillows, and then he watches me as he teases my clit.
I groan and then whine when he stops abruptly, looking into his face.
“Are you sure you want this?” he asks. “We can do all the other things we’ve already done. If you would rather that.”
I shake my head and take a shuddering breath. “No. I want to feel you inside me.”
He smiles at me and says, “Okay. I want that, too.” He slides a finger inside me, working my G-spot, and I squirm on the bed when he adds two, three fingers.
He thrusts them inside me hard and fast, just as I like it.
I hold my breath as the beginnings of another orgasm begin to build, and he removes his fingers.
“Shit,” he says. “Where are your favorite condoms? I can’t even remember which sort I brought right now. ”
“Here, here,” I say, reaching over and throwing open my nightstand drawer. I grab one. It’s smooth, but also…“Do you care if it warms up? According to the packaging, that’s what it’s supposed to do.”
“I can’t bring myself to care about anything right now, except making you lose your mind with my cock.”
I frown playfully and nod. “Good plan. Good priorities.”
He laughs as he takes the condom from me, and I watch closely as he slides it on. I can’t remember the last time I watched someone, well, only one someone, do that. I try to fold the event in my mind so I can pull it out for reference if I ever want to slide one on him myself.
He climbs on top of me and kisses me, gently lowering his lips to my neck, then my breasts, until I’m wiggly and so, so, so wet. I feel the head of him between my legs, and I hold my breath when he slides himself inside, one inch at a time.
“You good?” he asks.
I nod, furrowing my brow. “It feels really tight.”
“Does it hurt?”
I shake my head. “No. I just wasn’t expecting to feel so full.”
He laughs. “I’m so glad I’m secure in my size right now.”
I roll my eyes. “Come on. You’re above average. I just mean, I’d forgotten this part. The particular sensations.”
He pulls out the tiniest bit and thrusts back in and something pleasurable begins to bloom in me. Like the orgasm he was building me up to with his fingers hasn’t left, and his dick has decided to finish the job. “Do that again. Harder.”
I gasp when he pushes out and then back in roughly, just as I’d asked. “Again.”
He obeys me immediately. Two, three, four times. Ten seconds of thrusting and I say, “Oh, I’m so close.”
He grabs my waist and rolls us over, never breaking the connection between our legs. I blink when I find myself on top, looking down at him, a half smile on his gorgeous face, his hair already so messy, pointing this way and that.
“I’ve wanted to see you like this for so long. I want you to make yourself come using me like this.”
“Oh!” I put my hands on his chest and move my hips around in a circle. “I’m not really sure how I’m supposed to do this.” I’ve never been on top before.
“There’s no one right way. Well, except what gets you off. Whatever makes you come is the right way for you.”