Chapter 12 #2
There was both awe and a little nervousness there, like I was the answer to a question he’d been afraid to ask himself for years.
The feeling I got seeing myself through his eyes—like he’d never wanted anything more—was a hell of a drug.
I wanted to say something, felt like I should say something, but all words burned away as he wrapped his hand around me.
He licked his lips, nervous, and then leaned in, approaching me with the tentative devotion of a man memorizing every detail for a future he wasn’t sure he deserved.
I resisted the urge to guide him, to take control.
Instead, I watched as he experimented: a feather-light kiss, then a surer one; a bold flick of his tongue, a shallow gasp as he discovered how even that made my hips jerk.
His cheeks colored with pride at the reaction, and it lit up something bright and reckless in me.
He started slow, almost reverential, and I let every sensation wash through me—his lips, the way he looked up through his lashes, seeking my approval like it mattered more than anything. And Christ, it did. It was inexplicable and enormous, this feeling of being chosen, even for a moment.
Whatever anxiety I had about the consequences of this, about what might happen if we got caught, dissolved into a haze of want and gratitude.
There was no pretense here, no royal training, no one to witness except the two of us.
Just Eddie and me, in the kind of intimacy that made everything else seem miles away.
He traced his lips along the length, learning, tasting, testing the boundaries of what I liked.
He was careful, unpracticed, but not shy.
Experimenting. Open about what he didn’t know, but also totally unafraid to find out.
He flicked his tongue over the head, chasing a bead of precum, then laughed—actually fucking laughed in delight—when I moaned and nearly bucked off the chair. The sound was infectious.
The surge of anticipation hit me low in the stomach. I bit down a gasp, clamping my hand over the back of his head instead, fingers tightening in the downy softness of his hair.
He hummed a little, the vibration sending a zing through me, and I cursed under my breath.
His hands pressed hot on the tops of my thighs, steadying himself as he took more of me into his mouth.
Slower than most others I’d had, but more deliberate, savoring every inch.
I was half out of my mind, biting my lip, trying not to thrust up and choke him, but Eddie was determined.
He set his own pace, sometimes pulling back to inspect me with that curious gaze, like he was conducting an experiment and needed to catalog each of my reactions.
Every time I gasped or twitched, he logged it, adjusted, improved. Like everything he did, even this was a study—hands-on learning, full immersion. I had to laugh, half-crazy with want. “You’re such a fucking overachiever,” I managed, words ragged.
He pulled back and grinned, a little crooked, the tip of his nose red. “Is it working?”
I combed my fingers through his hair, not trusting myself to say anything smart. Instead, I managed to get out a strangled, “Yeah. You could say that.”
He ducked back down, emboldened now. More tongue, less hesitation.
He licked a stripe up the length, then wrapped his lips around the head and sucked, hard and fast, like he’d realized somewhere deep down that this was the thing that would undo me.
My thighs tensed, and I braced a hand on the edge of the table, the world narrowing to the bright, sweet pressure of Eddie’s mouth and the soft thud of my heart in my ears.
He bobbed his head, steady rhythm, rubbing circles over my hip with his thumbs, until my eyes nearly rolled back and I forgot, for a second, that anything existed except for this quiet, perfect disaster of pleasure.
It took some effort, but he managed to take me further than I would’ve thought possible for someone’s first time—a greedy hunger fueling his efforts, with the occasional gag and watery-eyed drag back for breath.
Each attempt left him undeterred, focused, even more resolved to do it right.
I’d never felt so fucking honored to have my dick in someone’s mouth.
There was a split second where instinct wanted to take over, where I had to force myself to breathe and keep my hips still because I couldn’t bear the thought of hurting him, even accidentally. Instead, I grabbed at the edge of the table, knuckles whitening, digging in.
“Careful,” I warned, my voice almost too low to hear.
He paused long enough for the words to register, then smiled around me, somehow more self-possessed than I was in that moment. It was the hottest, most ridiculous thing I’d ever witnessed.
He kept at it, hands warm and sure as he alternated between long, slow pulls and tight, fast ones, as if he’d taken every hint I’d given him and distilled it into a perfect act.
My head rolled back and I stared at the ceiling, every muscle straining as the pressure built and built and built, my control slipping.
I wanted to warn him, to be goddamn polite, but all I could manage was a broken, guttural, “Eddie… Fuck, I’m gonna—”
The rest of the warning was a grunt as I lost the battle, hips stuttering, and Eddie did not flinch. He took it, swallowing and then coughing and laughing at the same time, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand while looking up at me, triumphant.
“God, Bash,” he gasped, voice shot but so fucking happy. He flopped back onto his haunches and looked at me like he’d won some sort of prize. It was the most endearing and disarming thing I’d seen in my life.
I blinked at him, dizzy, heart still racing in my throat.
The rest of the apartment felt impossibly distant, the world reduced to right here, to Eddie’s delighted, hoarse laugh and the memory of his hands bruising into my skin.
I was still half-hard, still wanting, already greedy for more—yet the urge to feel even closer to him overwhelmed the physical afterglow.
I leaned forward, tangled our fingers together, and pulled him up into my lap. His knees bracketed my hips, jeans rough against my bare thighs and tender cock. He was flushed and breathless and beautiful, that crooked smile lighting up the universe.
“Jesus,” I managed. “You’re going to kill me, you know that?”
He raised an eyebrow in modest triumph, then ducked his head, laughter fizzling into something more tender. “I’m glad. That you liked it. I mean,” he amended, tracing absent circles along my shoulder, “I wasn’t sure if I’d be any good…”
He stopped, the way Eddie always did when his mouth threatened to outrun his confidence.
I hooked a finger under his chin and drew him in, kissing him soft and slow, tasting myself on his lips and not caring. “You were perfect. Absolutely goddamn perfect.”