Chapter Fourteen. #2
“Yeah, I’m very excited about it. I’ve been taking college classes after school and on the weekends to learn more about coding and computer software and to get a jump start on school, so I don’t have to attend the full four years.”
Damn, he’s so smart. He’s handsome, intelligent, motivated… Why has he stuck with me all these years? Why does he seem to want me now? I’m not at all on his level.
“What are you going to do, Char?” He squeezes my hand, encouraging me to speak now.
“Well, I didn’t get into any forensics programs. So instead, I’m going to major in chemistry at Charle’s since they don’t have a specific program for forensics.
Hopefully I can find an internship in my third year or so, to get some experience.
After that? I have no idea. I’ve thought about working in a forensics lab, but I’m not set in stone on my dreams like you seem to be.
Luckily graduation’s four years away so I have time to figure it out. ”
“You need to stop being so hard on yourself.”
I look over to see him staring at me, his expression unreadable.
“You’re smart, funny, and beautiful, and you’ll do great at whatever you set out to achieve.
College admissions are a sham. They want the gems in every pack but not every single person can be a rare gem.
If I didn’t have to go to college, I wouldn’t.
The idea of going through more school kills me.
I don’t want to be in debt from it, and I don’t want to have to listen to these professors judge my intelligence based off the ‘normal’ guidelines.
It’s a ridiculous, mandated waste of time. ”
His attention fixes back on the sky, his brows furrowing in annoyance, and his teeth chewing on the inside of his cheek.
“For someone who wants to work for the man, you sure do seem to hate the man.”
He laughs so hard, so full of life. “This is why I’m glad I have you around. You lighten the mood when I need it. Sometimes I get too serious. I need someone who can ground me and bring me back to the fun in life.”
“Me? Fun? You know I’m a homebody who barely does anything. I’m not special or fun at all.”
He rolls on his side, facing me. “Come here, you.”
His hand glides to my lower back and pulls me into him, our hips and legs pressing against each other now. I avoid his gaze even though I can feel it intensely on me. The steam of our breath dances in the air together. We’re so close the tips of our noses are almost touching.
“I’ve thought about this for so long,” he whispers.
Shivers radiate down my spine and I have a feeling it has nothing to do with the chill in the night air.
“Thought about what?” I whisper back breathlessly, the tension between us about to snap explosively.
“Holding you… kissing you… being with you…”
I can’t catch my breath. I can’t speak. The tension between us is too great—the want, the need overwhelms me. I look in one eye, then the other and finally to his lips.
“I love it when you look at me like that,” he whispers onto my lips. “Can I kiss you?” he whispers so quietly it’s barely audible.
“Yes,” I say panting, begging him silently.
He kisses me, soft at first and then more passionately. I open my eyes to catch an almost pained expression on his face, his eyebrows drawn together as if in concentration. I pull back.
“You okay?”
“Hm?” he responds out of breath, his eyes still closed.
“You look like you’re in pain when we’re kissing…”
He opens his eyes. “I’m just trying to hold myself back and go at your pace.”
“You have to hold yourself back?”
“If last night hadn’t happened and if I knew that this wasn’t your first time being with a guy then I would’ve already started having my way with you. It’s taking everything in me not to rip every single piece of clothing off you, spread your legs and be inside you.”
I can’t breathe and by the sounds of it, neither can he.
I’m beyond happy he wants me this badly.
I want him too. God, do I want to fulfill this sexual tension more than anything, but I’m not sure how my body and mental state will handle it.
My emotions keep hitting me out of nowhere and I don’t want to ruin this moment.
“I… I don’t know how to do anything.”
His confident smile puts me at ease.
My legs clench together and my hips twitch on their own. I’m literally pooling between my thighs. Am I going to seep onto the blanket? Will that turn him off? Even when masturbating, I never get this wet.
“Don’t worry. I’ll teach you.” His voice is so low it’s almost animalistic. He pulls me back into his lips and separates mine with his tongue. His tongue scrapes my teeth before our tongues connect, his lightly playing with mine while his fingers dance on my back. A whimpered moan escapes my lips.
Oh God.
I pull away out of embarrassment.
“I’m sorry. I-I couldn’t help it,” I whisper, tilting my head back to look at him.
His mouth is gaped open, panting, and his eyelids are heavy.
He licks his bottom lip, staring at me hungrily.
“That was so fucking hot,” is all he gets out before he crashes his mouth into mine, pushing his tongue deeper as our chins lightly scrape together.
Another moan slips out of my mouth which triggers a small moan from him.
He’s right. That is fucking hot to hear.
I open my eyes again, curiously watching the emotions on his face as he kisses me. He’s so handsome, I can barely stand it. The concentration on his face burns me hotter, somehow. How’s it possible to feel this sexually turned on?
He opens his now, catching me red-handed as he rotates his head to kiss me deeper. He smiles against my lips, simultaneously pulling away and nipping my nose.
“Stop staring at me, creeper.”
Shit.
Did watching him turn him off? Are you not supposed to do that?
He continues grinning, his cheeks as flushed as mine have to be based on how hot they feel.
“Is it really creepy?” I shrink back; afraid I’ve ruined everything.
“No, I’m just kidding with you. But proper kissing etiquette is closing your eyes and enjoying the moment. Closing them pulls you further into your senses and helps you enjoy the experience. It heightens your pleasure sensors.”
“You would phrase it like that,” I chuckle, nipping his nose back.
He doesn’t respond but instead kisses me hard, showing me how to move my tongue to fit his style of kissing and what would feel good for both of us.
“If you ever feel uncomfortable at any point, tap me anywhere three times and I’ll stop, okay?” he whispers breathlessly between kisses.
I nod, too out of breath to answer out loud.
“I need you to say it out loud.” He pulls back, staring me in the eyes.
“I’ll tap three times if I feel uncomfortable and want us to stop.”
“Good girl,” he whispers in a low voice, shoving his tongue back down my throat.
Good God, that tone’s going to get me in loads of trouble.
Soon after our agreement, his hand begins exploring, first at my waist and then slowly working its way under my shirt, his soft callouses scraping against my skin, sending goosebumps down my arms and legs.
His touch is firm on my skin, but gentle, feeling every small part of me he’s never touched before.
He takes his time as if he knows exactly how much time a new space needs before I’m comfortable and he can move on.
But I want him to move faster. I need more of him. I can’t get enough, fast enough.
He leans up on his elbow, gripping the base of the back of my neck in his hand and gently pulls my hair to move me in whatever direction he desires.
Just as he moves me to the left to search deeper into my mouth, he grasps my breast. Soft at first, then harder and back to soft again.
Again, testing the waters and seeing what I like and don’t like. What a gentleman.
I don’t have to talk. My body tells him everything he needs to know as my hips move of their own accord. He smiles against my lips before thrusting his tongue into me again.
He abandons my breasts and skims lower, slowly, lazily as if he has all the time in the world.
He reaches my waistband and pauses. Then one by one he crawls his fingers just under, my essence tingling in anticipation. I’m dying to know if it’ll feel better when he pleasures me than when I pleasure myself.
I grab his forearm and shove his hand down to feel me. My anxiety that he’d think I was too wet and be disgusted is pushed out of my mind from the eagerness to feel him touching inside of me.
“Easy, Char. No need to rush,” he rumbles, jerking his hand back so he doesn’t touch me yet. I whimper in protest, but even as he said that he unbuttons my jeans making his way easier.
A realization hits me. He’s been touching me, but I haven’t touched him at all. It’s not that I don’t want to, but I’m nervous. I’ve never seen that part of a boy, let alone touched one. Do I go for it?
He feels around above my apex, making circles and allowing me to get used to him touching there when I make the bold choice to move my arm and reach for him. He immediately stops.
“Don’t worry about me. All I want is to feel you right now. Let me please you first. Please,” he begs.
He pries my lips apart with his tongue at the same time he dips his finger into me for the very first time. I grip his back and crumple his shirt in my fist, the other gripping for dear life on his forearm.
My eyes roll back, a louder moan escaping into the night as my back arches and my nails dig into the skin on his forearm. I don’t even know what’s up or down at this point. All I know is him and this pleasure, this amazing pleasure sending my body into tingles and flames all at once.
He kisses my neck, his tongue sliding up it and licking the beads of sweat off my skin. His moan in my ear drives me crazy, sending a deep throbbing ache below for more of him. Sweat coats my body under the blanket but the extra heat adds to my experience, boiling me in pleasure.