Chapter 12 #2
I put my hand on Bennet’s thigh. The fabric of his slacks was smooth under my palm, warm from his body heat.
“Does this feel good?” I whispered against his mouth.
I felt the shiver pass through him. His breath stuttered.
“Yes,” he said softly.
I kissed him harder. Our tongues touched briefly, tentatively, then bolder. His hand came up to my jaw, fingers trembling slightly.
My hand moved higher along his thigh. Slow. Giving him time to stop me if he wanted.
He didn’t stop me.
His leg shifted under my palm, muscles tensing. When I squeezed gently, he made a sound into my mouth that went straight to my groin. My dick throbbed, and I had to fight the urge to push Bennet on his back and press all my weight against him.
I pulled back just enough to look at him. His eyes were half-lidded, glasses slightly askew. His chest rose and fell rapidly.
“Still good?” I asked.
“Still good,” he breathed.
I kissed the corner of his mouth, his jaw, and the spot just below his ear that made him gasp. My hand stayed on his thigh, thumb drawing slow circles.
“Can I touch you?” he asked suddenly.
The question sent heat flooding through me. By now, steam was probably rising from my ears, but I didn’t care. “Please.”
His hand landed on my chest, over my hoodie, hesitant at first, then firmer, feeling the shape of me through the fabric. His palm slid down to my stomach, then my hip. “The one time you chose not to be shirtless,” he muttered.
I caught his wrist gently, biting back a laugh. “You can go under, if you want.”
His eyes met mine, and he nodded. His hand slipped under the hem of my hoodie, fingers cold against my skin. I hissed at the contact.
“Sorry,” he said.
“Don’t be.” I guided his hand higher, up my stomach and over my ribs. “Touch me however you want.”
His palm flattened against my chest. I could feel my heart hammering faster. His fingers explored carefully, tracing muscle, finding the hollow of my collarbone, brushing over my nipple.
I groaned.
His eyes brightened. “Good?”
“So fucking good.”
He did it again, more confident this time. I leaned into the touch, then captured his mouth again. The kiss turned deeper, messier. His glasses bumped against my face, and I reached up to carefully remove them, setting them on the nightstand.
Without them, his eyes looked softer.
“Better,” I murmured.
“I can’t see you as clearly.”
“You don’t need to see.” I kissed him again. “Just feel.”
My hand slid higher on his thigh, close enough now that I could feel the slow rise of his crotch. Close enough that when he shifted his hips, my fingers brushed against the hard outline straining against his slacks.
He broke the kiss with a gasp.
“Too much?” I asked.
“No.” His voice came out strangled. “Not enough.”
I pressed my palm against him properly this time, feeling the shape of his cock through the fabric. He was hard and hot, and the small sound he made was the best thing I’d ever heard.
“Lie back,” I said.
He did, slipping the suspenders off his shoulders and scooting up the bed until his head hit the pillow. I followed, settling beside him, propped on one elbow. My hand returned to his thigh.
“Can I take these off?” I asked, fingers finding the button of his slacks.
He nodded, then added breathlessly, “Yes. Please.”
I worked the button free, then the zipper. The sound seemed impossibly loud in the quiet room. I hooked my fingers into the waistband and tugged. He lifted his hips to help.
The slacks came off, and his socks followed. I tossed them aside.
He lay there in his shirt and dark blue boxer briefs, his cock so hard it stretched the fabric thin and made my mouth water. His legs were pale and lean, smooth all the way to his knees with fine hair sprayed down his shins.
I put my hand on his knee and slid it slowly upward.
“You’re beautiful,” I said.
He laughed, shaky. “You don’t have to…”
“I mean it.” I leaned down and kissed the inside of his knee. “You are.”
His breath hitched.
I kissed the soft skin of his inner thigh higher and higher. He smelled clean, like soap and something faintly sweet. His leg trembled under my mouth.
When I reached the edge of his underwear, I paused and looked up at him.
His head was tilted back against the pillow, throat exposed, one arm thrown over his eyes. His chest heaved.
I undid the buttons of his shirt, rising along the bed as I worked my way up. He was lean and beautiful.
“Bennet.”
He lifted his arm slightly and looked down at me.
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” I said.
“Don’t stop,” he whispered, voice strained like it would be pure horror if I stopped now. He lifted his torso enough to let the shirt slide off, then settled on the bed again.
I leaned down and kissed his torso, moving over his pec and nipple, down the middle of his chest, and all the way over his flat stomach. Then, I kissed him through the fabric. He jerked, a broken sound escaping him. His cock throbbed under my lips, and hunger opened deep in me.
I did it again, mouthing at him through the cotton, feeling him twitch and strain. His hips lifted involuntarily.
“Jason…”
I hooked my fingers into the waistband. “Can I?”
“Yes. God, yes.”
I pulled them down. He was fully hard, flushed, and leaking precum. Beautiful.
I wrapped my hand around him carefully.
He made a sound like he’d been punched.
“Good?” I asked, though I knew the answer.
“I…yes. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
I stroked him slowly, learning what made him gasp, what made his hips jerk, and what made his fingers dig into the sheets.
I lay next to him, my hand moving steadily along his cock, feeling the tension run through him. “Touch me,” I said.
His eyes opened, unfocused. “What?”
“Touch me, too,” I repeated. “I want to feel your hands on me.”
He reached for me clumsily, tugging at my hoodie. I released him long enough to pull it off. When I settled back beside him, skin to skin, we both groaned at the contact.
His hand found me through my sweatpants. The touch was inexperienced but eager. I pushed into his palm, showing him the rhythm.
“Like this?” he asked.
“Perfect,” I breathed.
We moved together, hands learning, mouths finding skin. I kissed his neck, his shoulder, the hollow of his throat. He gasped my name over and over again.
The heat built between us, inevitable and overwhelming. His hand tightened on me, and I knew I was close. I was way too close, and I didn’t want this to be over so soon.
As I kissed him, he sighed my name into my mouth, his hand moving a little faster over the fabric of my sweatpants. It didn’t matter that he was inexperienced. In fact, the excitement of the novelty made him even hotter to me.
A wavy lock of hair fell over his brow as he pulled his head back from me, looking into my eyes.
His hand slowed down, and I throbbed against his palm.
Bennet cocked his head and moved his hand higher, reaching my abs, then letting his fingers slip under the waistband of my sweatpants and boxer briefs.
“Can I?” he whispered. He was only asking to be nice at this point.
“You abso-fucking-lutely can,” I said, barely holding back a growl that rumbled in my chest.
As his slender fingers reached lower and curled around my hard cock, we both widened our eyes and opened our mouths in a silent prayer, a wordless plea to hold back, to slow down, to make it last.
I dug my feet into the mattress and pushed myself higher along the bed, closer to Bennet. I pushed myself until I rolled Bennet onto his back, and then I crushed my mouth against his, thrusting my tongue between his lips and seeking the tip of his, licking him and kissing until my mind spun.
Bennet’s free hand reached for the waistband of my sweatpants on the small of my back, thumb hooking under it and hand tugging it down. He yanked the rest of my clothes over my ass and grabbed my cheek so hard I nearly came inside his fist, excitement flaring through me like mad.
My cock throbbed fast and hard, so hard that Bennet stopped moving. “No, no,” he whispered. “Not yet.”
I barked a laugh, head dropping next to his, lips automatically tracing his shoulder and finding his neck.
“You laugh, but I spent all day getting ready,” he said, the smart pout on his face finally showing itself in a whole new light. He bit his lip and paused as his face turned a darker shade of pink. “I’m not leaving until you fuck me so hard that I’m gasping.”
My heart thundered. I could imagine the glowing coals inside my own eyes as I gazed at him. “We have all night, baby,” I said.
Bennet didn’t say anything to that. He just wrapped his arms around my body and pulled me down onto him. I sank gladly into the mattress with him underneath me. Bare skin on bare skin, mouth on mouth, tongues teasing and playing, fire burning hotter and brighter inside of us.
I wiggled my hips and let my sweatpants and underwear slide a little lower, my hard cock pressing against Bennet’s, tingles shooting through my veins. He shuddered under me, swallowing back a moan that rocked him.
His long eyelashes fluttered, and he opened his eyes wider, looking at me, holding his breath as the plea grew stronger and brighter and more desperate on his face. “Lie on your back,” he said. “I want to try something.”
I leaned down and kissed the tip of his nose because I couldn’t help myself.
And when that didn’t feel quite enough, I moved my head up a bit and kissed his eyelid just as he closed his eyes.
Then I kissed the other one. Then I kissed his lips softly and finally let myself roll off him and onto my back.
Bennet fell into my left arm as he turned around, lingered there a moment, then climbed on top of me.
He slid down inch by inch, kissing my collarbones, my pecs, my nipples, and my abs.
Finally, after minutes of gentle worship, he exhaled a heated breath, warmth washing over my cock so nicely that I trembled all over.