Chapter 17
Justin
C losing my eyes, I lean my forehead to Devan’s and exhale. This is too much, too soon. I shouldn’t be as honest with her. It’s that when I’m with her, I want to talk, share, and even be honest about my feelings. There is something about her that just feels right.
Devan’s hands come to my cheeks as she lifts my face until our eyes meet. “Yes.”
I let out the breath I’m holding. “Fuck, I was pretty sure that word-vomit would have sent you running.”
“It wasn’t vomit,” she says with a soft laugh to her voice. “It was sweet and honest. I spent those next five weeks afraid that by coming back to Riverbend, I’d see you and you’d pretend you didn’t know or recognize me.” She tilts her head. “You did that.”
I sit up, noticing how with Devan’s golden hair around her face, she looks like an angel. “What was I supposed to do, make a scene in front of your dad and brother?”
“If we’d gone all that day without talking about it—the kiss—I know I wouldn’t be here right now.”
“Then I’m thankful for the breeze slamming the doors.” I recall her excuse.
“And the fortuitous tote.”
Yeah, I’m having the same problem again.
“Devan,” I say, my voice an octave lower. “Come here.”
I sense the way her breathing deepens by the way her breasts push against the front of her sundress.
“I’m here.”
Tilting my head, I motion for her to come closer.
She moves to her knees and turns until we’re facing one another, our knees touching.
For longer than I meant to, I simply stare at her—the all of her.
The beauty of her soft skin, the way her nose turns up, her perfect kissable lips, and the depth in her swirling chocolate eyes.
The straps of her dress hang from her slender shoulders.
If I sit taller, I could see down her neckline and from what I can see, I don’t think she’s wearing a bra.
Going by the other night outside her house, I know how good it feels to be against her, to feel her warmth and soft curves.
I want to push those straps off her shoulders and see what she’s wearing—or not wearing—beneath.
Taking a deep breath, I remember what I wanted to say, to ask. “I’ve given this a lot of thought, and I don’t know how to ask something without sounding like a dick.”
Devan smiles. “Oh, what does a dick sound like?”
“A dick question,” I explain, lifting her hands in mine.
“I know you’re not a kid. I know you’ve grown up and that’s great.
Fuck, it’s better than great. Part of me wants to take everything slowly, but maybe that part of me doesn’t know what you know.
” I shake my head again. “It doesn’t matter if you’ve been with anyone else,” I lie, because saying it aloud makes me realize it does matter.
Instead, I go on, “What matters is that while we figure this out, we’re exclusive. ”
She nods. “I’ve dated.”
I nod, wanting more information.
“You’ve dated, I’m sure.”
I nod again.
Yeah, that would mean information-sharing is a two-way street.
“You’re asking me if I’m a virgin?”
“Yeah,” I admit. “Dick question.”
“It kind of is.” Devan sits back, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. “If I say I am, then I’m back to being a child in your eyes. If I say I’m not, I’m a slut.”
“No.” The one word comes out louder than I mean it to.
“You’re definitely not a slut. And I think we’ve established that you’re not a kid.
I just…” I take a deep breath. “I don’t want to fuck this up.
I’m willing to take it slow if that’s what you want.
And if you want to go faster, I’m game with that too.
I guess I thought that having that knowledge would give me an idea on the speed. ”
Devan relaxes her knees and lays her fingers on my arm. Her touch is warm and soft. Slowly, she moves her gaze from where we’re touching to my face. “I don’t know what speed I want. I like when you kiss me and when you touch me.”
Tugging on her hand, I coax her to come even closer.
“Justin.”
“I’m not pushing.”
“No,” she says with a grin. “You’re pulling.”
“I want to touch you.”
Slowly, she nods and moves closer.
I’m seated with my legs out in a V and Devan settles on my lap, facing me with her legs bent around my waist and her hands on my shoulders. I hold onto her waist as her pussy hovers over my trapped erection.
Her eyes are wide, and I know she can feel what is happening to me.
With my gaze on hers, I tease one strap of her dress from her shoulder. When she doesn’t stop me, I tease the other. The front of her dress settles just over her perfect tits—no bra—giving me a slight peek at the deep pink of her areolas.
My lips pepper her soft flesh.
First, her lips, then down to her neck, and her collarbone. I’d gotten this far the other night. Today, I continue lower and lower until my chin nudges her dress down, and I suck one nipple and then the other.
“Justin.”
The way she says my name combined with the way her body fidgets in my grasp has me ready to come in my jeans. “Tell me to stop,” I say between kisses.
Her fingers weave through my hair, her breaths come more rapidly, and her back arches to give me better access. “Don’t stop,” she pants.
I work her arms from the straps, leaving her dress more like a skirt—from the waist up, she’s exposed. My fingers splay and caress, tracing the arch of her spine as her nipples bead and she fidgets in my lap. I long to touch every inch of her, to know what turns her on and what she likes.
Back and forth, her pussy rubs over my jeans.
Slow, I remind myself.
It takes all my self-control not to free my erection and let her ride me.
This isn’t about me. I lower my hands to her round ass, the one bouncing on top of me as I gather the material of her dress. It’s as my fingers brush the edge of her panties that I stop.
Devan’s eyes open wide.
“Do you want to come?” I ask.
Her lips press together as she nods.
“Don’t be shy. What do you want?” I continue brushing the crotch of her panties.
“Oh.” She drops her forehead to my shoulder. “This feels so good.”
“What do you want?” I ask again.
“I want to come.”
“Do you want me to help?”
“Yes,” she says in a soft squeak of a voice.
“My fingers, my tongue, or you can keep dry humping me. Either way, I promise you’ll come.”
Indecision swirls in her eyes as her cheeks go from pink to flaming red.
Leaning back on my arms, I press my erection against her. “Dry hump. I want to watch you.”
“No,” she says quickly. “Your fingers.”
“Good girl. Tell me what you want.” A smile curls my lips as I readjust. “I’m still going to watch, Devan. You’re too fucking gorgeous not to watch.”
The material of her panties between her legs is soaked as I push it aside.
Slickness covers my fingers as I tease the seam of her lower lips.
My heart is racing as I find her core. Shit, she’s so tight.
Her walls clamp around my finger as she presses upward.
It’s as I swirl her clit with my thumb that she begins to moan and gasp for air.
“Press back on my hand, Devan.”
She does as I say, and her moans morph to whimpers as her movements come faster.
I add another finger, stretching her core and press my thumb against her clit.
It’s as if I’ve found her detonation button.
Her body quakes in my grasp, her core convulses around my fingers, and her warm essence covers my hand.
There are red areas on her skin from my facial hair, and her nipples are as hard as diamonds.
Devan lets her forehead drop to my shoulder as she rides out her orgasm and works to regain her normal breathing.
Removing my fingers, I bring them to my lips and suck.
Shaking her head, she keeps her eyes down.
“Damn, I knew you would be sweet as candy.”
“I can’t believe I did that.” Her voice is muffled by my shoulder. “We did.”
“Devan, look at me.”
Her brown orbs come into view. Quickly, I press my lips to hers. “You can’t believe you just came on my hand.”
“Yeah,” she says shyly. “I’ve never come that hard. Ever.”
She leans back. Either she’s forgotten that she’s still naked from the waist up or she doesn’t care. “What about you?” she asks.
“What about me?”
“That…it was for me. Don’t you want to…?”
My gaze scans from her tousled hair, pink cheeks, down to her perfect hand-sized tits, and back to her eyes. “I want to. But tonight is about you. I want you to know you will always be my first thought. I’ll never force you, Devan.”
“We’re really going to do this?” she asks.
“This?” My grin quirks. “Yeah, you can come on my hand anytime, any day.”
“Date,” she says, slapping my shoulder.
“Exclusive,” I say. “I’ve tasted you, and I don’t want anyone else tasting or touching what’s mine.”
“And it goes both ways?”
“Are you asking if I’m yours?”
“I am.”
“For as long as you’ll have me.” I think about that for a moment. As I’m helping Devan with her dress, I add, “Unless Ricky kills me first.”