Chapter 34 – Waylon
chapter
thirty-four
Waylon
I leaned down, closing the space between us until our breath mingled. “I’m going to kiss you, Flash,” I murmured against her lips. “Tell me to stop if you don’t want it.” She didn’t. She surged up and met me halfway.
Her mouth was soft and wet and opened under mine like she’d been waiting for me to kiss her, to claim her. Her breath hitched, and I swallowed the small sound as I scrambled for control. I was so fucking keyed up, all I wanted to do was devour her whole.
Sliding my hands into her curls, I tilted her head until I had better access, then licked into her mouth. The tiny mewling sound she made was like an electrical line right to my dick.
The fucker throbbed against my sweats demanding to be let out. Fuck, how was I already so out of control from a goddamn kiss?
Her fists curled into the front of my shirt, twisting the fabric hard, like if she let go she’d fall, or maybe she just wanted me closer.
I wanted closer too. I dropped one hand from her curls to the small of her back and pulled her flush against me, chest to chest, and fuck — the soft give of her tits against my ribs made me groan into her mouth.
She made that sound again, that little needy hum that scrambled what was left of my brain.
I licked into her slow, then slower, learning the shape of her, the way her tongue chased mine, hesitant at first and then bolder, until she was the one pressing up into me. I caught her bottom lip between my teeth and gently tugged, and her whole body shivered against mine.
“Easy,” I murmured against her mouth, even as my hips pressed forward into the soft curve of her belly on their own. “Slow down for me, Flash.”
The other night in my room was fucking hot, but this was scorching, and it was in danger of spiraling out of control fast.
She didn’t slow down. She made a frustrated little noise and fisted my shirt tighter, yanking me back down like she’d murder me if I pulled away again.
Christ. I huffed a laugh against her lips and gave her what she wanted.
I opened her mouth wider with mine, let the kiss go sloppy and deep, teeth catching and tongue sliding.
Both of us were breathing hard through our noses because neither one of us wanted to stop long enough for air.
I walked her backward until the backs of her knees hit the couch, and she sat down hard, blinking up at me with kiss-swollen lips and eyes gone glassy.
Her hair was a wreck where I’d had my hands in it, and her lips parted, slick and pink, and fuck me, I had to take a second just to breathe and look at her.
“You good?” My voice was scraped raw.
She nodded, a quick jerky thing, and reached for me. “Don’t stop.”
“Not gonna.” I dropped to my knees between hers, ran my hands up the outsides of her thighs, slow, giving her time to push me off if she wanted.
She didn’t. She just watched me, chest rising and falling fast under the thin cotton of her tank top, and her nipples were already pebbled hard against the fabric like she was begging without saying a word.
I leaned in and kissed her again, softer this time, coaxing.
My hands slid up her ribs until my thumbs brushed the underside of her tits, and she gasped into my mouth like I’d shocked her.
Her hands flew up — one to my shoulder, one fisting into the hem of my own shirt — and she made this stuttering little sound that went straight through me.
“Yeah?” I dragged my thumbs up again, slower, circling just under the curve of her tits. “That feel good, baby?”
“Waylon — ”
Her hands lifted, hovered between us, then settled on my shoulders like she didn’t quite know what to do with them.
“Hands wherever you want, Flash.” I pressed the words into the corner of her jaw, then dragged my mouth down the line of her throat. “On me. In my hair. Anywhere.”
Her fingers curled into the back of my neck, tentative and sweet. Christ.
I kissed down the column of her throat, slow, sucking lightly at the spot just under her ear that made her breath catch and her thighs squeeze against my ribs. I filed that away. I filed all of it away, every twitch, every gasp, every place she leaned into me when my mouth found something good.
I nudged the strap of her tank top off her shoulder with my nose and followed the path with my mouth, tasting salt and the faint sweetness of whatever lotion she’d used, sucking a soft kiss into the curve of her shoulder.
Her skin was hot under my lips. She shivered when I scraped my teeth across her collarbone, and I felt the goose bumps rise under my tongue.
“Can I take this off?” I tugged lightly at the bunched strap. “Just this. Nothing else unless you want.”
“Yeah.” Her voice was barely there. “Yes. Please.”
I peeled the tank down slowly, watching her face the whole time, watching for any flicker that said stop.
None came, just her bottom lip caught between her teeth and her chest going up and down too fast. The fabric dragged over her tits and caught on her nipples, and she made the smallest hitching sound when it finally pulled free, and I was looking at her.
Bare from the waist up, all that honey-brown skin warm in the lamplight, her nipples tight and dark and so fucking pretty I forgot how to breathe for a second. She crossed her arms over herself on instinct, and I caught her wrists gently before she could hide.
“Don’t.” I pressed a kiss to the inside of one wrist, then the other. “Let me look. Please.”
She let me move her arms back down to her sides. Her chest was heaving. The flush had crept down her neck and onto the tops of her tits, and I wanted to put my mouth on every inch of her.
“You’re beautiful.” My voice was pure gravel. “Jesus Christ, Flash.”
She made a small sound — embarrassed, maybe, or overwhelmed — and her hand came up to cover her face. I caught that too, threaded our fingers together and pressed her palm against my chest instead, right over where my heart hammered like it was trying to break out.
“Feel that?” I asked her. “That’s you. All you.”
Her eyes lifted to mine, big and dark and a little wet at the corners, and my chest ached.
I leaned in and kissed her again, soft this time, just a press of my mouth to hers, and then I trailed it down the line of her throat, over her collarbone, to the soft swell of her tit, and I heard her suck in a sharp breath when my lips brushed her skin there.
“Lie back for me,” I murmured against her sternum. “Yeah, just like that.”
She went down slow against the couch cushions, propped on her elbows so she could watch me.
Good girl. Fuck. I dragged my sweatshirt and T-shirt over my head and tossed them somewhere behind the couch before coming down over her.
The line of her belly stretched out under me, the soft curve of her tits rising and falling fast. I had to grip the edge of the cushion by her hip for a second just to keep my hands from shaking.
I dipped my head and dragged my tongue, flat and slow, across her nipple.
She jolted, a full-body twitch, and her elbows nearly gave out. The sound that came out of her was something between a gasp and a whimper, and it punched right through my chest and lodged somewhere lower.
“Oh — ”
“Yeah?” I did it again, slower this time, circling the tight peak before flicking my tongue across the center of it. Her hips bucked up under me, a small involuntary thing, and I caught her thigh with one hand and stroked my thumb slowly over the crease of her hip to settle her.
“Easy, baby. I got you.”
She dropped her head back against the cushion, throat working, and the hand that wasn’t braced behind her flew into my hair and fisted and tugged. Christ, that pull at my scalp shot straight down my spine, and my cock kicked behind my sweats like it was answering her.
I closed my mouth over her nipple and sucked, slow, just a steady draw, learning the weight of her against my tongue, and she made a sound I was going to hear every time I closed my eyes for the rest of my goddamn life.
A broken little cry, half swallowed, like she’d been trying to hold it in and couldn’t.
“Waylon — oh my God — ”
“Mmm.” I hummed around her and felt her shudder, and I had to press my hips down hard against the couch.
I switched to her other tit, dragged my tongue over the neglected one, blew cool air across the wet trail I’d left behind, and watched her whole chest hitch up off the cushion like she was chasing it.
“Fuck — Waylon, I — ”
“Tell me.” I scraped my teeth, careful, just the barest edge, and she keened. “Tell me what you want, baby. What feels good.”
Her head rolled side to side against the cushion. Her eyes were squeezed shut. “I don’t — I don’t know — ”
I lifted my head just an inch, just enough to look at her, flushed and panting and gone-eyed, that fist still tangled in my hair like she was scared I’d disappear if she let go.
“Hey.”
Her glassy eyes blinked open, finding mine.
“Hey,” I murmured, brushing my thumb across the wet shine my mouth had left on her. “It’s okay. You don’t have to know.”
“I’m sorry — ”
“Don’t.” I shook my head, propped up on my elbow so I could see her properly. “Don’t be sorry. Look at me, Flash.”
She did. Bottom lip caught between her teeth again, that little crease between her brows like she was working a problem she couldn’t solve. And something about the way she was looking at me, half wrecked and half uncertain, like she had no idea what to do with any of this, made me stop and think.
I smoothed my hand up her ribs, slow, away from anywhere that might scramble her further. I just touched her and held her. Part of my brain was still keeping count of every sound she’d made. I wanted all of them, and we had all night.
“Can I ask you something?”
She nodded.
“Did you like what we did the other night? When I had my dick between your thighs?”
Her eyes went wide, and she licked her lips. “Y-yes.”