22. Tilly #3
“Jesus, Tallulah.”
I like that. I like knowing I did that to him.
I take him deeper, slowly, until the length of him makes my throat tighten and my eyes water. I pull back just enough to breathe, then do it again.
His hips jerk once before he catches himself.
“Fuck.”
I glance up at him.
That might be my favorite part. Rhodes Stone flat on his back, jaw tight, watching me like I’m doing something miraculous instead of putting my mouth on his dick.
I drag my tongue along him on the way back up, tasting the slick drop at the tip before taking him into my mouth again.
His hand tightens in my hair.
“You’re enjoying this way too much.”
I pull off long enough to smile. “I really am.”
Then I take him deeper again.
When his hips start to lift, I pull away and crawl up his body before he can finish.
"Cruel," he says.
"I'm not ready to let you go yet. I've got to make you last."
He gets a hand under my thigh and takes me over with him. Now I'm the one on my back with his weight coming down the whole length of me.
"My turn," he says, and starts working his way down.
His hands spread my thighs, and his mouth finds me in the exact right spot. I moan loudly, my hands clenching fistfuls of sheets. The first slow stroke of his tongue makes my hips lift off the mattress.
"Slower," I say, already breathless. "Right there."
He does it again.
"Oh, God. Yes, Rhodes."
I thread my fingers into his hair and hold him where I want him. He lets me, which might be the hottest part of all of this. It turns me on even more how easily he gives me control when I ask for it, and how completely he takes it back when I stop.
His tongue circles my clit, slow enough to make me crazy, then flattens against me and drags down through all the wetness he's already pulled out of me.
Rhodes groans against me, and the vibration goes straight through my core, rocking my entire body.
"Don't stop."
His fingers slide inside me while his mouth stays exactly where I need it. My thighs tighten around his shoulders.
"Right there. Keep doing that, Rhodes. Don't ever stop."
He keeps going, the perfect rhythm and pressure. He always listens.
The pressure builds so hard and so fast that I lose track of everything except his mouth, his fingers, and how hard I'm holding on to him.
"Rhodes."
He looks up without stopping. That nearly finishes me by itself.
I come without one word in my mouth, hips trying to lift against his hands while he holds me exactly where he wants me. He keeps going until I have to push at his forehead with the heel of my hand, because I'm certain my body will break in two if he doesn't stop.
"Enough," I gasp, laughing because I'm still shaking.
"You sure?"
"For approximately thirty seconds."
His mouth curves against the inside of my thigh. Then he reaches for the condom on the nightstand, rolls it on, and climbs back over me. Before I've fully caught my breath, he's pushing into me slowly, both of us watching each other.
“You’re so tight for me.”
“Only for you. Break me open”
And boy, does he. There is no hesitation, and I’m here for it.
I've worked my way up the mattress without noticing, and halfway through, my elbow cracks the headboard, and we both laugh.
Then he moves again, deeper this time, and the laugh disappears. I hear that low catch in his throat I've learned means he's close. I tighten around him on purpose, the sharp throb in my elbow mixing with everything else and pushing the rush higher.
His eyes shut.
"Tallulah," he warns.
"Come with me, Rhodes. Let go.”
"Tallulah." It comes out wrecked. "I'm going to come. You feel too fucking good."
“I’m about to—“
I don't get the rest of it out. Hearing him come apart is what takes me with him, and I go hard enough that I scream. He's a breath behind me, and neither of us is quiet about any of it.
He's heavy on me, and I don't ask him to shift. His weight on me after sex has become something I enjoy almost as much as the sex. The house is dead quiet now, and I'm suddenly aware that it wasn't a minute ago.
When he finally moves, it's only enough to make room for my ribs to fully inflate. I bring a hand up onto his chest, and run it down over the sweat beads on his skin. Goosebumps come up under my palm in a wave.
He catches my wrist and brings my hand to his lips.
It goes through me worse than anything he did with his mouth, because nothing we agreed to on that first night covers a man kissing your hand.
I should leave it alone, but it's nearly exploding out of me. It's all I can think of. Tomorrow is waiting, whether I talk about it or not.
"So," I say into his shoulder. "Home tomorrow."
His hand stills against my back.
"We go back to normal. Right?"
"Yeah," he says after a beat. "That's what we said, right? We leave what happened in Italy in Italy."
"Exactly." I settle closer. "Back to keeping it simple."
His arm tightens around me, but we both stay silent. A small pull in my chest triggers a deep breath, but I blame the hour, the week, the fact that good things always feel bigger when they're ending.