Chapter 5 #2
"Yours," he agreed, arching off the bed to spurt again, just as hard and just as much. "Oh fuck, honey, please don't stop."
I claimed his mouth, slashed my lips over his, sucked his tongue into my mouth, and slid my finger out of him—making him grunt abruptly, jerking as he came yet again, all over my fingers and his belly. The puddle of cum was becoming rather voluminous.
He relaxed a little, panting as if he'd run a mile flat-out, growling quietly with each gasping breath.
I kept milking his cock, pumping his length slowly now, rifling a series of short, fast, twisting strokes around the head and then giving him a full-length caress.
I palmed his heavy balls as I stroked him, then squeezed, traced the seam of his cock from taint to root, and then squeezed again—and got another hot load of thick cum out of him.
He tried to meet my gaze, but his eyes were crossed, and he couldn't seem to focus, groaning quietly as he went boneless on the bed, eyes rolling into the back of his head as I kept massaging his balls and gently caressing his cock even as it began to slacken and lose its rigidity, leaking the last dribbles of cum.
Finally, he was done.
I kept his now-flaccid cock in my cum-coated hand, rested my chin on his chest, and grinned at him like a very self-satisfied Cheshire Cat, watching him as he slowly regained his senses.
"Holy motherfucking shit," he mumbled, his eyes opening and slowly focusing on me. "I mean—goddamn, Linz."
"Figured I owed you at least one good orgasm, right?" I said, trying to keep my tone light.
"Wrong," he said. "Don't owe me anything. Now or ever." He blinked, groaning, and rolled to the edge of the bed, working to his feet like a stiff-jointed old man. "Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm gonna pee everywhere in a second."
"Please don't."
He staggered around the foot end of the bed, wobbling on unsteady legs like a newborn colt, toppling against the bathroom door frame, and caroming off it.
He reached the toilet and sat down heavily, and I heard him cut loose with a sigh of relief.
He pissed for what seemed like a solid two minutes.
I heard the sink go as he cleaned himself up.
During that time, panic filled me.
It started as a tightening in my belly. And then my hands went numb and started tingling, and my mouth went dry, and my throat tightened so I couldn't swallow, and I broke out in a cold sweat, breath trapped in my lungs and below the hot knot in my throat.
What did I just do?
I let him eat me out. I let him give me another orgasm—three of them, each one so intense I was still shaky.
I jerked him off. I put my finger in his asshole.
Stupidest of all, I kissed him.
He's gonna want things, now.
Answers.
History.
Feelings.
I let him into my home.
I slept with him—cuddled. Was comforted. I slept like a damn baby.
We were intimate.
I'd almost have been better off just fucking him, I'm starting to think. That may have been less intimate than what we just shared.
What I just did.
Fuck.
I heard him moving, but my eyes were hazed with hot tears, and I couldn't breathe and couldn't move. This wasn't a BJ panic attack; this was a full-on emotional meltdown. Again.
The poor man has seen me like this more than he's seen me normal.
"Linz?" His voice was soft and concerned.
A warm, wet washcloth cleaned my hands, my folds, tenderly, gently, softly.
I shook my head. "No. No. No."
"No, what, Linz?"
"Don't. Don't. You can't."
"Can't what?"
"Be sweet."
"You'd rather I be a jerk?"
"Yes,” I hissed.
"Sorry, babe. No can do." He lifted me, and then I was curled up in a ball in his arms.
I was naked, he was naked. It didn't matter—my only thought was to get away.
But I couldn't.
His arms around me, his hot, hard muscles firm and warm—the comfort I felt at being held by Dane Badd was all-consuming. I couldn't move if I tried.
"I've got you, honey. Just breathe."
"Not your honey."
"Okay."
"I'm a bitch."
"Hard disagree."
"We should have just fucked."
"Maybe. That felt pretty goddamned spectacular to me, though.”
"I shouldn't have let you in."
"But you did. And I’m here, and I'm not going anywhere."
"I c-c-can't—" I was suddenly cold, chattering. "I c-c-can't—t-t-talk…a-a-about it."
He drew the blankets up over us, tucked them around me. Wrapped me tighter in his embrace. "I've got you."
"Don't."
"Not like that."
"We shouldn't have done that, Dane."
He blew out a sigh. "I'm sure you think so."
"I can't…" I had to fight the words past my teeth. "I can't give you what you want."
"How do you know what I want?"
"I can't be what you need."
"You don't know what I need."
"DANE!" I snapped, trying to squirm out of his arms. "You don't know shit about me!"
"Nor you me."
"I'm not telling you shit."
"Have I asked?"
"Before I let you in, you said I owed you answers."
"Maybe I changed my mind."
“We shouldn't have done that, Dane," I whispered. “I'm just more confused."
"I'm not confused."
"I am."
"About what?"
"Everything."
“Start with one thing. Maybe I can help clarify things.”
"Not fucking likely."
"Try me."
"No."
“You're so goddamned stubborn, you know that?" He sighed, and his hands roamed soothing circles around my shoulders, back, hips, buttocks, and thighs. His touch was tender and affectionate.
My soul strained toward his; my heart tried to open.
Alas, my heart was atrophied and shriveled and black, and my soul was locked away in a lightless, airless box—safe from trauma, perhaps, but from everything else as well.
"Why won't you ask?"
He sighed again. "Because you have to choose to tell me.
I realized at some point that demanding answers was cruel and unfair and wrong.
I want you to trust me. I want you to know that you're safe with me.
" He gripped a fistful of my hair and gently yet firmly tugged my head back so I had to look up at him, had to meet his gaze; my eyes were blurred with tears I refused to let spill over, so all I could see of him was a wavering, ghostly outline.
"I know something awful happened to you, Lindsey.
I don't know what and I don't know when, and I don't need to know, right now.
It's enough to know that there's something that I don't think has anything to do with me that's got you fucked up about a lot of things. "
"I'm fucked up about everything," I murmured.
"But sex and intimacy especially. I don't know if going down on me triggered it or if it was something else, but it's got something to do with sex."
“Yes," I whispered. "I can tell you that much, at least."
“What we did just now, did that trigger you?"
"No."
"So this is different than what happened that night?"
"Yes."
"But related."
"Yes."
There was a long silence. "I just want to be there for you, Lindsey."
"I know, goddammit," I hissed. "I fucking know. I just don't know how to let you."
He let out a frustrated rumble. "I'm sorry, Linz. I shouldn't have let that happen. I should've…I dunno. I feel like I pushed you into something you didn't want to do, and I'm sorry."
My heart clenched at how distraught he sounded. It pulled me out of the miasma of self-pity and panic, a little. I twisted so I was lying on his lap, staring up at him. "No," I whispered. "It's not your fault. None of this is your fault."
“I was only thinking about myself," he muttered. "Thinking with my dick. I pressured you into doing things, and now you're panicking."
I dug my fingers into his chest. "No, Dane. No. That's not what happened, I swear.” I looked up at him, summoning enough strength to sit up on his lap, straddling him, facing him. "It was just as much as me thinking with my pussy."
He shook his head. "It's okay to put the blame on me, where it belongs."
"Goddammit, Dane, you're not listening to me.
" I cupped his face in both hands. "I want you.
I've always wanted you. I was fighting the urge to jump you all damn night. And when I saw that gorgeous dick of yours all hard and begging for me to play with it, I couldn’t stop myself.
I tried. I thought maybe we could just mutually masturbate. "
"Until I lost control."
"And went down on me," I said. "You didn't hear me complaining, did you?" I let him go, sat back. "You didn't ask me to do anything. I did what I wanted to do."
"So why are you so upset?" he asked.
"Because I'm more confused than ever!" I shouted.
"I don't want to want you, Dane. And I swear on all that's holy, that's not about you, it's about me and my fucked-up psyche.
I'm scared. I'm—I'm fucked up. And you—you make me feel things.
Big things. Scary things. Things I don't have the emotional bandwidth to deal with right now.”
He was quiet for a long time. "Linz, I…I guess I don't really know what to say to that. I want you to trust me. But I know how much easier that is said than done."
"Honestly, Dane, a big part of me wishes you were more of a cocky asshole. It'd be way easier to fuck you again just to get you out of my system so I can be done with you.”
"But it's not that easy, huh?”
"Shut up."
He huffed a laugh. "Are you saying that I'm not out of your system yet?"
"Dane, seriously, shut up."
"Because if you give me another ten or fifteen minutes, we can go again." He paused. "A big black bug bit a big black bear, and the big black bear bled black blood."
"The fuck?"
"Warming up my mouth.”
I slapped his chest. "Shut up. No. We aren't going again."
"Awww. You sure?" he held a hand up in front of my face, index, middle, and pinky fingers extended, his ring finger tucked. "Now that ass-play is in the picture, I could see if I can make you come so hard so many times you pass out…again.”
"Ass-play is not in the picture."
"My asshole disagrees."
“You liked it."
"Fuck yes, I did. You're welcome to do that to me anytime you want." He laughed. "You're telling me two in the pink, one in the stink doesn't interest you?"