Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
I wake up hot and sprawled across Fox’s bare chest. I swear that little puddle in the dip of his abs is sweat, not drool, and no one will ever get me to confess otherwise.
I don’t know when he got back, but I’m proud of myself for making him cuddle me in my sleep.
I use the sheet pooled at his hips to wipe my mouth—what?
—and peek below it because I’m not a good enough person to ignore the woody poking up.
The man has a beautiful cock; I’ll give him that.
Even if it’s totally weird he doesn’t have balls.
Not that his having internal testes bothers me, it’s just not something you see every day, amiright?
His dick twitches as I stare, and I force myself to remember that we haven’t talked about consent yet and what’s ok and what’s not.
That’s what date three was going to include, but of course it’s not like we’ve gotten that far despite both of our efforts.
I took a sexcation and he took paternity leave, and we still haven’t managed enough time off to have our third date.
“Rethinking your three date protocol?” Fox murmurs, stretching out his hand to grab his cock, giving it a lazy pull.
I may or may not have to wipe my mouth on the sheet again. Has anyone in the history of ever actually had their mouth water at the sight of a nice juicy cock, or am I trailblazing?
Fixated on the way his hand moves over his shaft, I forget that he asked me a legitimate question until his other hand starts kneading my ass. Tired of holding up the sheet, I toss it over his hand and cock, watching him stroke himself as my own dick weeps for attention.
Fox jerks suddenly and his abs contract as he lifts his shoulders off the bed. “What—?”
His hand moves from his dick to his ribs, swiping through the pool of sweat that might have started dripping down his side.
“Did you drool on me?”
I sit up, giving him my widest, most innocent eyes and shake my head like I have no idea what he’s talking about.
He reaches for the sheet and pulls it up, miraculously finding a damp spot on it. “Did you drool on me and then use my sheet to only clean up your face?” he questions suspiciously, using the sheet to wipe the sweat away.
I nod and shake my head both and end up just turning my face in a circle.
He finishes wiping himself down and pulls me back down onto his chest. “Would you like for me to finish?”
Why is that even a question?
I kiss his chest and wave my hand toward his dick, encouraging him to continue like we weren’t interrupted by questionable body fluids.
Fox squeezes my butt and takes his cock back in hand, teasing himself as much as me as he pumps his shaft in slow strokes, gathering the drops of precum as they seep up.
On every downstroke, he pulls the foreskin back just enough to make it a peek-a-boo show that has me sliding my hand into my underwear.
The tension in him builds up with every measured stroke, and I match his pace on my own dick until the need becomes too much for both of us.
I’m not sure who breaks first, but my hand jerks faster, and he thrusts up into his fist, and then it’s a race of the schlick-schlick of our hands shuttling up and down our cocks.
The digits on my ass squeeze hard as his rhythm stutters, setting off my orgasm with a starburst of pleasure.
Cum erupts from his cock, flowing rather than shooting, an erotic fountain of creamy white seed.
Panting and melty from the lovely orgasm, I wipe my hand on the dirty sheet and cuddle into Fox, kissing his neck and resting there with my nose pressed into the sleepy, sexy, scent of him.
Fox wipes himself up with the sheet as well and then tosses it off the bed and pulls the comforter up over us.
For a while we just cuddle without the need to fill the void of silence.
It’s nice and relaxing, and when we do eventually stir, because needs must be attended to, we’re both content with the time we’ve spent together and the shared intimacy.
We take turns in the bathroom, and after he steps out of the shower, I hand him his phone, which has a message from me waiting for him.
Come tell me while I shower what happened after you flew off yesterday.
Fox obediently follows me into the bathroom and starts talking as I disrobe and get into the shower. He even makes the effort to speak over the noise of the water.
“I told you that I was taking him to a prison for immortals, and that went fine, except when I retrieved the athame and he healed from the death blow, he said something that I messaged Annette about. He said, ‘I honestly thought she would assign you to the cherubs. I underestimated the council’s motivation to keep Santanos in power. I won’t make that mistake next time.
’” He pitches his voice a little higher so I know he’s quoting the man, then clears his throat to resume his normal speaking voice.
“Did you search the bunker when you retrieved my sword?”
Although it’s a yes or no question, the assumption behind it is wrong since I didn’t actually go back into the bunker. I was too busy gawking at my thunderbird. I draw the curtain and look out, exaggerating an I-don’t-know shoulder shrug.
“You did retrieve my sword, right?”
I nod and then point toward Bellamy’s room through the wall, mouthing his name, which just sounds like I’m popping my lips a couple of times and clicking my tongue even though I know that name doesn’t have any clicks in it.
Ugh. I really, really suck at trying to form words with my mouth.
I don’t know how to make the letters because I don’t have any hope of making the sounds so I can’t really practice on my own to get it right.
“I can’t tell if you're trying to tell me something or just making random noises with your mouth to confuse me.” His tone is deadpan, but the smirk teasing me makes me huff and throw a few drops of water at him before shutting the curtain again.
I hear his low chuckle, then he says something too quiet for me to hear before continuing.
“Annette said she’s getting Darcy to come track down the cherubs.
I told her that when she finds them, we will come rescue them, but that we were having our third date tonight, and if she called us before we managed that for any reason other than rescuing the cherubs, I’d quit. ”
I wipe the water out of my eyes and push my hand through the curtain, giving him a thumbs up.
“I bought tickets for a dinner cruise this evening. We need to be at the dock in an hour.”
I finish rinsing my body and turn off the water, opening the shower curtain without an ounce of shame.
Fox stares at me, muted by the glory of my glistening nudity.
I wipe the excess water off my body, enjoying the way his eyes follow the movement of my hands, and then reach for the towel on the bar waiting for me.
Fox damn near swallows his tongue when I start drying myself, proving my point that hints and peeks are more erotic than full-frontal nudity.
The anticipation is so worth taking the time for.
Wrapping the towel around my waist, I step out of the shower and into Fox’s space, tilting my face up for a kiss.
He grabs my hips and pulls me flush against him, taking my mouth with the force of his arousal.
He ravages me for several, achingly beautiful minutes, giving me everything I could ever ask for in a passionate kiss full of the promises we’ve made for later.
By the time we break apart, we’re both hard and sweaty, and if it wasn’t for the dinner cruise, I’d already be using my body to tell him, “Fuck the third date,” but he went out of his way for me, and I’m not about to disregard that.
We have a future full of time; we don’t actually have to rush.
It’s more important for me to show him that I appreciate his effort than it is for me to get my dick wet.
He deserves fun and romantic dates as much as I do.
Cupping his jaw and kissing the corner of his mouth, I slide past him, making sure he can feel the effect he has on me, and head to the closet to get dressed. Fox follows on my heels, pulling out a suit still wrapped in the dry-cleaner’s plastic.
With eyes that wander over each other the entire time, we dress for our third date.