Chapter 34 Colorblind #2
I’ve never done this without a wall standing in front of me.
A contract.
Rules.
Chains to lock down my heart.
I don’t have anything to protect myself.
I’m bare. Open. Unarmed.
And freaking the fuck out.
I try to let go of a breath.
It comes out shattered.
So I hold his gaze,
hoping he can hear everything I’m not saying.
As he searches my eyes,
my fears hit him in waves,
each one dawning on his face.
No rules. No clause.
No paper to hide behind or fuck on.
No black and white. It’s just grey. All grey.
And I’m not built for this kind of blur.
I need him to slow down.
Then he shuts his eyes.
Breathes in.
Breathes out.
Breathes deep.
His shoulders relax.
The hunger eases off his skin like heat in rain.
And when his eyes land on me again,
they’re still wired with want,
but holding steady for me, waiting.
I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing,
so I do the only thing I know—
“Hands behind your back,” I say,
barely above a whisper.
It doesn’t sound like power. But it is.
It’s the only power I’ve got right now,
and I need him to give it to me.
A curious haze clouds his gaze,
and beneath it—
wild, smirking, sadistic.
But he obeys,
sliding his hands behind his back,
fingers locking together.
His chest caves, muscles twitch,
like his skin’s missing mine.
But he holds, leashed by these four words,
every part of him at war with restraint.
My eyes stay on his—unmoving.
His eyes stay on mine—holding.
I fear if I look away from them, I’ll run.
And it’s the only reason I can do this.
I slide out of his sweatpants,
slowly lifting the shirt over my head,
peeling layers of myself away.
Andrew’s still—
so still—
his eyes never leaving me.
Until I’m standing in front of him, naked,
my breasts grazing his shirt.
His eyes dip lower, trail heat across my chest.
An unhurried drag of his gaze.
Then his eyes inch back up,
mouth parting when his gaze meets mine again.
And the drowning in his fucking eyes is everything.
His jaw flexes hard,
throat bobbing as he swallows.
He’s breaking, hanging on by a thread.
Then I rise onto my toes,
grip the waistband of his joggers, bring us closer.
Closer.
Closer.
Until he’s so close,
I can taste his warm breath on my lips.
He lowers, his mouth brushing mine.
Slow at first. Asking. Waiting.
Letting me lead,
until it kills him.
A grin cuts across his lips.
Then he caves—
His mouth catches mine,
the kiss sinking deep,
then flooding everywhere—
all ache, all fucking feeling.
You’re doing this to me, it says.
His hands are still behind his back,
but I still feel him. All of him.
I inch back, breaking the kiss,
and my heart punches me,
pissed I pulled away.
“Alright—no hands. None. I’m serious.
“You use your mouth. That’s it.”
He nods as he leans back in,
eyes falling shut when his mouth crushes mine again.
He drowns into the kiss,
keeping his hands restrained behind him.
I pull back. “No doin’ rookie moves. And if you stop halfway to ask if I’m close, I’ll get off this bed so fast you’ll faceplant into the mattress.”
His smile lingers as he moves in closer,
finding this amusing.
“And don’t make eye contact the whole time.
“That’s Night Stalker shit.”
His mouth crashes into mine again,
holds me there,
breath ragged, hot,
torn to shreds between our teeth.
I tug the front of his shirt,
my heart racing, kissing him deeper.
He reaches up behind him, pulling his shirt off, his back arching as it slides off his shoulders and over his head.
When the shirt drops to the floor,
I’m left with his hot skin and his smirk,
bare chest rising slow,
lips dragging up mine, knowing I’m fucked.
My hands find his tattoo,
his scar,
slide down his flexing abs.
Then his smile fades as he steps closer,
backing me up to the bed, eyes heavy on mine.
I lift onto my toes,
my fingers drifting to the back of his head,
raking down his scalp.
I kiss him, and his tongue slides in warm with a moan that rattles me.
I pull back—
And my heart throws up her hands,
groaning, frustrated.
“And go slow. I mean it, Drew.”
He squints, offended.
“Baby, I’m Italian.”
I go into kiss him again, then remember—
“And do not, for the love of God, dive in and drill a hole in my nub. Ease the fuck in. There’s more than just a clit. A whole fuckin’ solar system.”
Andrew grins, guiding me back another step.
“Sonny, I’m beggin’ you—
“just shut up and lay the fuck down.”
My hand slips to his jaw, and I cock a brow.
“Wrong name, Drew.
“When I’m naked, you call me Baby.”
His jaw ticks.
Then he grins in my hand, slow, ruthless,
eyes locked on mine as he leans in.
“Trust me—your meanin’ of baby and mine?
“Ain’t the fuckin’ same.”
His mouth grazes my ear—
“So you should know, when I say it—
“I'm sayin' mine.
“My fuckin’ baby.”
He hooks a finger under my chin.
“Now on your back.
“Let me show you what that feels like, yeah?”
Then he steps closer, the edge of the bed catching the back of my thighs.
I’m falling back, pulse in my ears, fingers shaking, room spinning.
He follows me down, mouth chasing, hovering, dragging over mine.
He catches himself in time,
palms pressing into the mattress, caging me in.
The bed’s cold on my back, but he burns—
body, breath, lips,
all fevered, all fucking hunger.
I reach for his face as he comes over me,
lowering onto one elbow.
My fingers trace the map of his cheekbones,
the outline of his jaw,
the curve of his lips,
rake through his thick hair.
I drag him in,
and his mouth draws wet heat at the spot under my ear,
then lower.
His chest slides down my breasts.
His lips slide down the hollow of my neck.
A trail of heat in his wake. But still…
He doesn’t touch me.
Not with his hands,
but with the rest of his body,
his mouth tasting every place
his fingers crave to be.
He’s slow. So damn slow, it makes me ache.
His mouth hovers my breast,
hot breath pouring over my nipple
before his lips melt into it.
He flattens his tongue to the peak,
and drags it in a wet, drawn-out lick.
My whole chest clenches in response.
His fingers curl into the comforter
as he drops lower,
his chest sinking between my thighs.
And his heart—fuck,
it’s pounding against my clit.
It races faster, faster, harder
as he sinks lower and lower, and still…
He’s not touching me.
He no longer needs to.
He knows me—
my ribcage, my lungs, my hips, my bones.
The sensitive flesh at the crease of my thigh.
And I can hear his voice in my head—
You’re mine, and I’m takin’ my time. Wanna taste you slow. No rush. Just you and me. You’re gonna feel every second of me, baby. Everywhere. Swear to God, I’m gonna make sure you do.
And I’m shaking lying here,
his lips trailing slower and lower, then—
His knees crash to the floor.
Mouth open, breath hot,
he drags a wet kiss up the inside of my thigh.
The scent of me hits him
and he groans right into it,
his lips parting over the edge of my pussy.
My knee falls open for him, and the cool air licks where he hasn't yet.
He kisses the crease—unhurried—
leaving a trail of spit behind.
It glistens, runs, cools.
Then he ruins the other side, wetter,
as if depraved,
sucking the skin into his mouth.
Then… nothing.
I close my eyes, heart pitter-pattering.
A moment passes.
And passes…
Mouth hovering right there,
breathing hot on my pussy.
So close I feel his damp lips shaking—
every fogged exhale slipping through my slit,
brushing my clit,
heat crawling in like it wants inside.
And another beat passes.
I’m about to lose all control.
My fingers are shaking.
I don’t think I can wait.
But just before I’m about to break—
His nose buries deep where I'm dripping, and drags slow up through my slit, parting me, mouth open, breathing me in and catching the taste of me. He groans into it—low, guttural—his hot tongue stretched long and sliding up the soaked line, breaking the seam,
a heat rod rolling over every nerve.
His inhale shakes from it,
breath ripping from his throat,
exhale spilling out hot steam.
Then his tongue slides in again,
long heavy licks,
pushing into my opening,
then trailing hot up to my clit.
I hiss, heat scrambling every rational thought out of me.
One thigh falls wider,
my whole body screaming—
Take me. Fuckin’ take all of me.
He pulls back, breathing heavy,
trying to calm himself down.
His eyes drag between my thighs,
admiring every soaked inch.
Then he buries a kiss right in the pocket between my thigh and pussy.
And his heavy, hooded eyes drag up to mine.
All slow. All full of it.
He knows I can’t handle both at once—
his mouth there, his eyes here.
They don't leave as he sinks back into my slit,
tongue dipping in, shallow, then deeper.
Licking me open
with his whole fucking mouth,
from where I’m dripping to where I throb.
His eyes flutter shut.
His fingers fist the sheets.
His moans soak into my skin.
It all slides through me,
heat scraping across bones on their way up to my chest—
key between his teeth.
I was locked,
now unlocked,
and unlocking again.
He stays, stroking me slow,
tongue heavy and stretched long,
deep pulls up to my clit.
I dig my fingers into his bed, close my eyes,
feeling like I’m slipping through the mattress
and falling through the floor.
A moan stutters, shakes,
rolls right out of me by mistake.
I throw my arm over my mouth to bite down.
His hand finds my other that's fisting his sheets.
He takes it into his,
palm pressing flat against my palm,
fingers locking together.
Another long, filthy lick as he drags me into his mouth,
hitting deep,
right through the wettest part of me.
A velvet fuckin’ slice.
I gasp.
He groans.
My other knee falls open for him.
He’s groaning again,
his tongue sinking deeper.
Every breath leaving him leaves heavier.
Then his muscles jerk hard,
his shoulders locking up.
His mouth falls open, jaw slack, sliding down the mess as he moans right into my pussy.
And all he can do is press his face deeper,