Chapter 8 Reid #2
I arrange myself against the pillows and wait for him.
I kind of thought he would have been back by now, but maybe he’s having a hard time finding condoms?
Should I get up to help him? Or is there something I should do while I wait?
I look down at my still sweatpants-clad legs.
He said he wanted to undress me, but I’m also curious what his reaction would be if he came back to find me mostly naked.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I shove off my sweatpants, leaving me in just my boxer briefs.
My dick is bulging against the fabric, the tight fit leaving nothing to the imagination.
I try to wait since he said not to get started without him, even if it was just a tease.
But the anticipation makes me harder with every second that passes.
I slide a hand down my body to palm myself through my briefs, only to relieve the pressure, and a moan slips past my lips right as Parker returns.
“Sorry, I needed to double-check the dates to make sure they were still good, then I thought maybe a towel would be a good—” He stops in the doorway, a strip of condoms and a towel in either hand, and stares, mouth agape. “Fuuuck,” he groans, elongating the vowel.
I grind my palm down again and flash what I hope is a sexy smirk.
His eyes darken, then in a series of quick movements, stalks over to the bed, throws the supplies onto the mattress, and crawls over me.
His knees bracket my hips as he settles in my lap, drawing a groan out of me.
“I thought I told you not to start without me,” he scolds, but there’s no heat in his voice. It’s light, playful, fun.
We’re still having fun.
Before I can reply, he grabs my face with both hands and kisses me, deep and all-consuming like he had before he left the room.
I sigh into him, arching my body to bring us closer and resting my hands on his hips.
His mouth trails down to my neck, and he nips at the skin with his teeth—not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough that the sting of it has me gasping.
“God, you’re hot,” he mumbles before using his tongue to soothe the spot.
“I’m really not.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.
Although it’s true. If someone were to say I’m handsome, I would believe them, but I wouldn’t ever put hot on the list of words to describe me.
Or sexy, which he called me earlier. There’s nothing sexy about cozy sweaters, graphic t-shirts with history puns, and unstyled hair because I can’t stand the texture of hair products.
“Yes, you are,” he argues. “You’re so fucking hot.
” He nips at my neck again. “You have this whole sexy librarian thing going on, just without the glasses.” His teeth scrape my collarbone.
“Although that might be a good thing because I’m pretty sure if you wore glasses, I would have had a sexual crisis the moment I met you, and this might not have worked out like it has. ”
When his lips make their way to my sternum, I stifle a whine.
Every part of my skin he’s touching feels like it’s on fire.
I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned on in my life.
If he keeps going like this, pressing compliments into my skin with his mouth, this is going to be over embarrassingly fast. I tangle my fingers in his hair, intending to pull him up for a kiss, then switch our positions.
But he moans and looks up at me, his pupils dilated.
We lock eyes, and he dips his head to suck an open-mouthed kiss in the center of my chest without breaking eye contact.
I don’t bother stifling the whine this time.
I just give in and lose myself in the brush of his lips, the scrape of his teeth, the heat of his breath.
He takes his time kissing my chest and makes his way down to my stomach—mirroring my own plan for him before he gave me that look that made me melt into the mattress.
His mouth makes it to the waistband of my briefs, and I gasp—in surprise or in arousal, I’m not sure. Maybe both.
Is he going to give me a blowjob right now? Can I even survive him giving me a blowjob? He hasn’t actually touched me, and I already feel like I’m right on the edge of shattering.
He looks up at me again with hunger in his eyes, and I have to tighten my fist in the sheets to ground me enough that I don’t come.
“Can I keep going?” he asks.
Between the look and the explicit ask for consent, I’m done. “Fuck, come here,” I demand impatiently, grabbing him by the biceps and tugging him up to meet me in a messy kiss.
He moans into it, then pulls away to rest his forehead against mine.
“Is everything okay?” he asks. “Did I—”
“You’re driving me crazy. Need to kiss you,” I say, panting. “Need to touch you.”
“God, yes,” he groans.
I slide my hands down his back and tuck my fingers under the waistband of the sweats he’s still wearing.
“Take these off.” It comes out more like a demand than the question I meant it to, but based on the full-body shudder Parker gives, I think he might be into it.
I tuck that little nugget of information away to ask him about later.
He rolls off of me and shoves his sweatpants and underwear away. Then, he looks over at me. “You too, please,” he says.
I’m quick to comply, then turn on my side to face him. I let my gaze rove over his body, taking in every beautiful inch of him. He turns his head to look at me, his eyes taking me in, just as unashamed. His hand reaches down to grasp his hard cock, giving it a couple of lazy strokes.
I’m mesmerized for a moment, but then I reach out and touch his arm. “Can I?”
“Actually, can we try something?” he asks, turning on his side to mirror me. He scoots closer and rests a hand on my waist.
The touch grounds me, and I nod. “Whatever you want, sweetheart,” I say, voice breathy. “But fair warning, whatever it is, I don’t think I’m going to last very long.”
“Neither am I. It’s, um—okay, so I may or may not have watched a few MM porn videos while I was trying to figure out this whole sexuality crisis,” he starts. I try to hold back a smile because that sounds like a very Parker thing to do, but I must fail because he pinches my side.
“Don’t say anything,” he warns. “So I don’t know if this is an actual thing that people do or if it’s just in porn, but the guys kind of lined themselves up with each other and…”
“You want to try frottage?” I ask.
“Oh, so it is a real thing,” he says.
I can’t help smiling this time. “Yeah, it’s a thing.”
“Oh, my God, leave me alone,” he says with a laugh as he pinches my side again.
I jerk away and scowl. “Stop that!”
“Stop laughing at me,” he retorts.
“I’m not laughing, I’m smiling,” I counter. “And I’m smiling because I find you endearing.”
He sighs and smiles softly. “So can we try it?”
“Come here.” I grasp his arm and roll onto my back, pulling him with me. I reach down to position my cock as he situates himself between my legs.
“Like this?”
I nod.
“And you’re sure you want to?” he asks, checking one more time.
“Parker, please touch me,” I beg.
He nods once, exhales, then lines himself up with me.
I had never put that much importance on losing my virginity because I wasn’t convinced the act of getting off would be that much better with a partner.
But I was wrong because the first grind of his hips against mine is so good, it’s almost indescribable.
It's so good, it rips a sound from my throat I’ve never heard come out of me before.
I’d be embarrassed if Parker didn’t answer with a moan of his own.
“Is this—” he starts, but I cut him off by palming the side of his neck and dragging him down for a kiss.
“It’s good,” I mumble into his mouth.
He sighs against me and rocks his hips forward again. Pleasure licks up my spine, and I hook my leg around his, urging him on. Distantly, I wonder if we should have used lube to make the glide easier, but no part of me wants to stop to make that happen.
His forehead drops to my neck as he continues moving against me. “Fuck, Reid,” he breathes.
“Sweetheart,” I breathe back, earning a shudder.
“I won’t last much longer,” he says, voice strained.
“Me neither.”
“What do you need?” he asks. “I want to make you come.”
I gasp and let my head fall back onto the pillows. “Your hand,” I say, struggling to get the words out. I’m so close to the edge, I can barely think. “Both of us.”
His hand comes between us, and I feel his long fingers wrap around both our cocks.
“Oh God,” I moan, although I think it’s more of a whimper.
I’ve never experienced anything this intense before, and while it feels good—so fucking good—it’s also a little scary letting go of the control over my own pleasure.
I squeeze my eyes shut, and my hand comes up next to my head to grasp the pillow, trying to find something to ground myself.
My body feels like a rubber band pulled too tight and ready to snap.
Parker’s unoccupied hand covers mine, prying it free from the pillow. “Reid.” The combination of his fingers tangling with mine and his voice tethers me back to reality for a moment, enough for me to open my eyes. The moment my gaze locks on his, I feel steadier.
His hand moves faster, working us toward our orgasms. “I’m close,” he says, the words strained with effort.
I gasp and squeeze his hand. I’m going to come. He’s going to make me come. I try to say the words, but the only sound I make is a low whine.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, giving me the permission to let go.