Chapter 17 Sam #2
“What?” My fingers play along the underside of his thighs, still damp from our excursion in the pool. His shorts cling to his skin.
“Those girls. Were you…?” He gives me an imploring look, and his pupils are so big they nearly swallow all the nice blue and gold of his iris. I’ve never seen his eyes look so dark. “You weren’t gonna…y’know.”
“Seriously?” I ask. He tilts his head at me, stare unwavering, and I guess we’re at a stupid sort of impasse. Is he jealous, too? “Ash, no. I have exactly zero designs on random chicks at clubs.”
“It didn’t really seem like it.” His mouth is sulky, pouting, and I want to kiss it. “They were all over you.”
I cup his face in my hands. “I was being nice. I was drunk.” And I still very much am.
“That girl at the bar, though. You were gonna fuck her.”
“Who?” My sluggish brain’s cogs creak. “Wait, are you talking about the girl back in New Haven?”
“Yeah.”
“Ash, holy shit. That was five hundred years ago.”
“It was four days.”
“Same diff.” I kiss him again, roughly, catching his lip in my teeth. “Ash, there’s literally no one I want but you, right now. No one else exists to me.” And the truth is startling but there it is.
“Oh, good.” His arms slide around my neck. “‘Cause I wouldn’t wanna fuck Butt-Head if he was the last man on earth, so it would suck if I had to if you decided to pick those girls up. Then I’d like, I dunno. Have to.”
“Butt-Head?” Have to?
“Can we go back to making out?”
I grin. We’re good again. “We’re gonna do a lot more than make out, butterfly.”
I’m quick to divest him of his clothes, yanking them off and dropping them to the floor, and he winds his legs around my waist. My shirt’s ridden up and I feel his hard cock against my stomach, warm and already wet at the tip.
I press even closer and he grinds into me, whimpering against my neck, like he wants to make himself finish like this.
God, he’s fucking sexy. If there wasn’t a million other things I wanted to do to him first, I’d let him.
My hand skims Ash’s spine to the small of his neck. “Not yet,” I whisper.
“Why not?” he returns, fawning, rubbing his face against my neck and jaw. His hands disappear beneath my shirt, feeling up my ribs. “Don’t wanna feel me come all over you?”
Christ. I swallow so hard it’s painful. “I wanna make you come in a different way, butterfly.”
I feel his lips curve in a smile. He kisses my throat. “Show me.”
I step back and kneel before him, and he watches me as I lay my mouth just inside his right knee.
I begin kissing along his thigh in a sloppy, meandering trail, up and up and up, my eyes rolling upward to meet his.
I hear his breath catch as I mouth his hipbone, then lick across his lower stomach to the opposite.
A smothered whimper as I kiss down along the inside of his other thigh, his hands suddenly seizing onto the edge of the vanity like he’s about to explode.
“Sam—” It comes out pathetic, mewling.
I rest my cheek on his leg and gaze up at him. “What?”
“Can you just fuck me already?”
The corner of my mouth quirks. “Don’t worry. I’m gonna.”
But first, this: taking his cock in my hand and licking up the underside of it with a broad swipe of my tongue, then tracing and teasing along the head.
Tasting the pre-cum beading at the slit as he gasps, sending his head flying back so fast it nearly bashes the mirror.
Holding his hip with one hand as he bucks against me, trying desperately to fuck into my mouth.
Not yet, though. Don’t let him do that yet.
I’m savoring the taste of him, the feel of him beneath my tongue. His cock isn’t small, but it’s not too big, either—it’s a good size, I think, maybe just shy of seven inches, slender and proportional. The head is the same pretty pink as his hole.
“Your dick is so pretty,” I mumble, flicking my gaze upward again. “It’s perfect.”
“Please.” Voice strained, beyond the compliments now. Maybe I’m doing a good job after all. And then, “Babe.”
A private thrill goes through me. “I love it when you call me that.”
His fingers thread and tangle in my curls as as I take him, as much as I can, into my mouth. A slow process because I haven’t done this much, and my throat spasms as my gag reflex goes into overdrive. But it doesn’t stop me. Either of us.
“Oh, fuck,” he whispers.
I’m inexperienced at this, clumsy, but Ash doesn’t seem to mind.
A false start or two and then I find my rhythm, head bobbing and both my hand and mouth working him in tandem.
He ruts into me like he’s fucking me and it’s super hot, actually—this is a kind of penetration too, a kind of sex, love-making. I want him to finish in my mouth.
I manage to get him down my throat before I have to surface for air with a soft gasp, tears in my eyes, a string of saliva connecting my tongue to his dick.
Ash’s head tips back. “Fuck, Sam. You’re so hot like this.”
“Should I keep going?”
“Yeah.”
“You gonna come if I do?”
“Uh huh.”
I smirk. My lips are sort of puffy right now. From all the kissing. And sucking. “You gonna let me fuck you if you do?”
“If you don’t,” he tells me, “I’ll kill you.”
I go in again, and this time I let him fuck my mouth the way he clearly wants to.
His moans are reaching fever-pitch and his fingers are so tight in my hair it feels like he’s gonna rip them out, but that’s hot, too.
I let him use me until his fingers slacken and he tells me he’s close, super close, really really close and I think he’s giving me a chance to move away, but I don’t. I want this.
And then Ash’s coming inside me, white hot spurts down my throat, so much I almost gag and I’m fucking proud of myself when I don’t.
I swallow every last salty ounce of it and my tongue circles the head for more when at last he starts to peter out.
Back bowing, hair curtaining his face as he drops his head, breath leaving him in harsh gasps.
“God,” is all he gets out before I stand, seize his face in one hand and kiss him hard. Open-mouthed. Let him taste himself on my tongue as I push it against his. He eagerly pulls me closer and his hand’s going for my cock, honing in on the wet spot in my shorts. I feel him thumb it and I groan.
He pulls at them and keens against my mouth. Begging. Needing to be fucked. Thank god for that because I need to fuck him.
I break away and step back, pulling him off the vanity by his hips.
He’s wobbly as a newborn fawn but game enough as I spin him around to face the vanity, shoving him down by the back of his neck.
So convenient that the lube and condoms are already sitting here like I didn’t dump them here myself earlier, along with the rest of the toiletries, and once my fingers are slicked up I waste no time working them into him.
Ash makes a small sound and I caress his neck, still holding him down. “I can’t wait to fuck you,” I tell him. “Can’t wait to be inside you.”
He squirms, clearly overstimulated. “Hurry,” he whines.
I pull out my fingers and give his ass a casual smack, and he cries out.
“Take it easy, butterfly. We haven’t even gotten to the fun part.
” I’m breathy, though, and really, I’m the one who needs to pace myself.
Already got denied once today and I’m so worked up that even with the alcohol and weed I feel like I’m gonna blow my top already. My balls are fucking aching.
Ash looks over his shoulder and watches me as I quickly disrobe. Keeps watching as I tear open a condom packet and then pull my foreskin back before I roll it on, and there’s that quick, fleeting thought of wondering how he’d feel with nothing at all.
I push him back down on the vanity again as I knee his legs apart, lining myself up with him. “Ready?” I ask him. Even though I know the answer.
“Do it.”
No more foreplay, no more fucking around. I grip his hips and enter him and it’s not slow, not exploratory like it was the night before. I watch my cock disappear into him all in one go as one of his hands slams the mirror, making our reflections shudder. Some half-strangled noise escapes his lips.
God, he’s fucking tight. And hot. And…everything.
So many things. He feels incredible and he looks incredible and once I get started I don’t know if I could stop if I tried.
I’m fucking him into the counter fast. He half-turns, places a palm on my stomach and I catch a glimpse of his pretty-boy face that’s all breathless ecstasy.
I lean down and give him a quick, breathless kiss.
“Harder,” he says against my lips.
Well, if I was being gentle before that, I’m not now.
Not at all. But that’s good, because he doesn’t want gentle and neither do I.
Thrusting quick, quicker, harder, beating his hole up like it owes me money and he’s loving every second of it, writhing across the vanity in wet, sweaty glory.
The room’s filled with the sound of my flesh smacking his and his soft gasps punctuating every impact.
It’s almost too much, overindulgent, and at the same time not enough. I want more, somehow. Wanna tear him in half. I want to get in in in, if that’s even possible. My insides are fucking molten and I know I’m not long for this world.
“Me vuelves loco,” I rasp. “Se siente increíble.1”
He’s crying out now, over and over, back arched and asking for more harder faster please and I’m giving him as much as I possibly can.
He throws his head back, hair cascading over his back, and my hand goes for the nape of his neck again, fingertips digging in.
I meet his eyes in the mirror and we both watch me fuck him.
I know we’re both close. I’m hitting just the right spot, stroking over it with every pump.
“Sam—”
It’s all he gets out before he goes again, spilling cum across the vanity—I can see it, in the reflection, his cock twitching, pinned between the counter and his stomach—and it’s more than enough to seal my fate.
I shove myself so deep inside him I feel like I’m gonna split him apart, and with a shudder and a groan I finish.
After that, it’s an effort to stay upright and not just collapse atop him, go totally limp.
My elbows collide with the vanity’s surface and my sweaty face presses alongside his.
We both pant heavily, fogging the mirror before us.
Our gazes snag once more, and with damp fingers I hook his tangled, wet hair behind one ear.
“Look at that,” I whisper hoarsely, kissing the side of his flushed face. “Dios...mírate.2”
1 You drive me crazy, it feels amazing.
2 God, look at you.