Chapter 16 #4
He stares at me and I finally realize why. There’s a dark wet spot on the front of my panties where I’ve soaked through them. I bet if I took his jeans off and mouthed him through his boxers, they’d be just as wet. Salty. They’d taste like him, not like the shower.
He lets me come to him. It’s hotter that I have to straddle him and crawl over his body. He keeps his hands at his sides and lets me do it on my own. It’s entirely my choice that way.
When I get to his face and kneel over his neck, tucking my feet beneath his shoulders as he arches up just enough for me to do it, the feral beast in me takes over.
I rake my fingers through his hair and tug his face up.
His hands finally bracket my hips, though his palms are so massive that his fingers splay over my ass.
He devours me through the fabric, his mouth open and so fucking hot.
My head falls back, my eyes slam shut, and my soul tries to battle its way out of my body.
Twenty years of my own touch. Two decades of never wondering what this would feel like.
No one has ever done this for me. Not in any position.
Even through the barrier of fabric, Cruz’s hot, wet mouth and his tongue are so much better than my own fingers could ever be.
I have one toy, a small vibrator. I know there are ones that you can get that promise to simulate this, but I didn’t think I’d like it.
I’ve always been so vanilla when it comes to sex.
Never adventurous. Never wondering. Never searching or seeking.
My own sexuality went on pause, then hiatus, nearly disappearing completely.
Cruz brings it roaring back to life.
His tongue explores over the cotton, pushing against my clit.
He sucks the fabric into his mouth, leaving the wet fabric plastered against me.
He explores me that way, tracing my seam and coming back up to tease me, diving down and lapping at my entrance that way.
He doesn’t move my panties aside. He doesn’t ask me to.
He does a good job of fucking me with his tongue as it is, all while respecting my insane need to stay covered. For now.
For tonight.
If we do this again, I might be braver.
We shouldn’t do this again. Not unless I can be honest with Liam first, but I need to figure out how to do that. What exactly to say and how to say it, and when.
I already want Cruz in every part of me, all over me, all at once.
I ride his face, my hips moving frantically.
I have no control over them or the images that my brain throws at me.
I imagine the most ridiculous positions.
Having Cruz fill me in every hole. Having him come all over me and licking it off.
Having him feed it to me. Having him stuff it into my asshole and use it for lube.
Twenty years of going without, and now my brain is writing porn scripts. What the actual fuck? Is this what going without sex does to a person? Turns them into a half-crazed maniac?
Whatever. Would any of that be so wrong if it felt good? If it made Cruz feel good? If it was done safely, with respect, and out of desire for each other?
The door chime goes off faintly downstairs, followed by the bang of it shutting and the loud click of the locks set back into place.
“Oh my god!” I scramble off Cruz’s so fast that I nearly knee him in the face. I roll on the floor, grab my jeans, slam my legs into them and jump up. It must look like a circus act.
Cruz is tugging down his shirt, studying me intently. I race to the sink, grab the dishcloth, and wing it at his face. Not my proudest moment, but he gets the memo and swipes it over before throwing it back at me. He sits halfway up, curling over his knee so that his waist is completely obscured.
That’s how Liam finds us.
“Hey!” He hurries over to Cruz. “Is your knee okay? Why are you on the floor?”
Liam offers his hand, studying Cruz’s face.
It lasts a heartbeat too long before Liam turns his head and looks at me over his shoulder.
There’s no hiding my flushed face or my swollen lips.
I didn’t have time to go stick my head in the freezer, although that’s the first thing I should have done.
Got a bag of peas for Cruz and pressed my own face right into it.
“Cruz?”
Cruz looks at me, guilty. Plaintive. He’s at war with himself.
I hate that. I never wanted him to have to do this.
To lie and betray. There’s so much anguish in his eyes that the words spring to my lips.
They’re not unbidden. They’re honest. That’s who I’ve always been.
I hated that Liam lied to me about Seattle.
I don’t want to do the same thing to him.
I respect him as a person. You don’t lie to the people you love.
“He’s on the floor because his knee gave out. I wanted to help and it… turned into something else.” I take a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m… into Cruz.” Oh my fucking god. That sounds so unbelievably stupid. I can’t believe I just said that.
Liam can’t either. His face contorts with anger and confusion, betrayal and hurt. “What are you talking about?”