Chapter Eleven
Everett Young
As I cross the threshold into Skylar’s bedroom, he’s turning to face me, the backs of his knees bumping into the foot of the bed.
He’s staring—his eyes wide and scared. Skylar has the same expression that he wore in the bar; the expression he had as he accepted Jacob’s number. Shy, na?ve, coy—Skylar is playing the part of the little incubus who knows how to use his faux innocence to get defiled. To be sunk into.
I take my time to approach him, enjoying every second of this new persona, this side of him that no one has ever truly seen. Until now.
His body is trembling with anticipation.
Shoving aside the uncertainty, the doubt, the knowledge that tomorrow our choices will probably destroy us—I focus on the man in front of me.
And although Skylar is a bit shorter, and I’m a bit more buff, what he lacks in height and muscle he makes up for in attitude.
He says, “Come and touch me, Evie. You’re teasing.”
I grin. “But I can’t touch you when you’re fully dressed.”
Not how he wants me to, at least. Skylar is quick to grab the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head.
But as his fingers reach for his jeans, I slap his hand away. “Let me.”
I pop the button of his jeans, and the simple action, or maybe it being me as the driving force behind it, has Skylar gasping as if he can’t pull in enough air for a single inhale.
Hooking my fingers through his belt loops, I pull the fabric down, and with each inch of his soft, untouched skin revealed, my heart beats even faster still. My throat is closing; I’ve never felt so nervous, so out of touch.
I’ve never been with a man before, obviously, yet I am not turned off. I just want. A concerning, burning want that’s making me shaky, and I fear I’ll start fumbling in my movements if I don’t calm down.
Skylar steps out of his jeans as I eye the bulge in his briefs. A patch of the fabric is darkening with his leaking arousal—the cotton is straining, and goosebumps are rising over every inch of his exposed skin.
He is incredibly turned on; that much I can tell.
I reach out, resting my palm over the thickness of him, intertwining the fingers on my free hand into his mess of curls and forcing his head into the crook of my neck. His groan sinks into my skin—right where I want it.
“Is this how you want me to touch you, puppy?” I ask him, my voice coming out soft and consoling. As Skylar shakes his head against me, pushing his hips up to press further into my palm, I add, “Tell me what you want.”
“I want… I want to feel good. For you to make me feel good,” he says, and the sound of Skylar’s soft, aroused voice is something so foreign, so intoxicating as it soaks into my skin that I feel my knees shake.
“Fuck, Skylar.”
I shove him backward, watching as he bounces against the mattress. His legs dangle from the edge, his curls falling all around his head. Pleading eyes stare back at me, but he’s smirking all the same.
“I’ll make you feel good,” I tell him. “That much I can do.”
He nods in response to my promise, my declaration, and bites at his bottom lip as he grips the comforter.
Dragging his briefs down his legs, it takes everything in me not to make some kind of obscene, audible noise at the sight of him.
As soon as Skylar is completely naked in front of me, I am reduced to one singular thought: he is mine. I own him. Nobody else is allowed to see what I’m seeing—and if they do, that alter ego of mine will commit a vile, outrageous crime.
I’ve never seen another man’s hard dick so intimately before. But here I am, wanting to choke on it.
Skylar is long and thick, almost as big as I am. Pink and cut and smooth—so pretty and soft to look at. He’s swollen, pulsing, and so worked up. I want to spread him open and make myself familiar with all aspects of his lower region, but he’s growing impatient.
He blushes a deep red, the color spreading from his chest and up to his hairline as he squirms from beneath my heated gaze. I do not look away; I do not give him any form of reprieve.
“Stop staring, Everett.”
“But you’re so... so...” I’m struggling to find the right word.
“So?”
“So fucking delicious,” I groan.
Skylar sighs, hands tightening against the bedding at his sides as he blinks up at me. Beads of arousal are forming on the tip of his dick, and I want to taste them so badly; I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life.
I want to eat him slowly and then tell him how much I love it.
“Evie,” he says, and without needing another word, I’m ripping my shirt off, losing a few buttons in the process.
I can buy another.
“Sky, let me blow you,” I beg. “Let me have a taste.”
I have never been as confident as Skylar. In fact, begging and pleading and yearning are embedded in my DNA. And yet, this feels… so much better than it ever has before. It feels new.
His eyes widen. “O-okay.”
Dropping to my knees, I grab Skylar’s hips and pull his ass to the edge of the bed. Suddenly, I am very happy that we are day drinking. The daylight bleeding into the room reveals every little inch of his tanned skin—bares him fully to me.
“No one else has seen you like this, have they?” I already know the answer, but the possessive, perverted side of me really wants the confirmation.
He simply shakes his head, peering down at me from where he’s propped himself up onto his elbows.
“That’s so good,” I groan. “So fucking good, Sky.”
Skylar shivers, one hand coming down to tangle itself into my hair. There is so much to look at—his dick, hard and red and in my face, the way his stomach is tensing under each hot breath I release, and his hardening nipples.
Every inch of him looks so soft.
Knowing his unapologetically blunt and sometimes entirely too cold personality, there is something quite sexy about being the only one to find that what lies underneath his clothes is the complete opposite. As if he’s been saving this revelation just for me.
Skylar may be vicious and poisonous when he wants to be, but once I strip him down to nothing, he’s my soft little puppy once again.
My gaze lifts to meet his, and those blue eyes are blown wide—curious and full of anticipation. Of desire, vulnerability, and fear.
It’s good—too good, even. So good that I’m scared I might come just from looking at him.
And with that face burned into my memory, I flick my tongue out and drag it over his leaking head, tasting him.
Skylar cries out as his taste explodes over my tongue, salty and sweet and so him that I could sob. It’s far better than I imagined.
I’ve tasted plenty of women in my life, but nothing like this. Nothing like him. So, I lick him again and again, humming under the flavor, under the warmth of his skin.
Skylar is panting, fingers yanking at the hair they’re curled around. I take him deeper, massaging what I can’t swallow with my hand, feeling my own spit leak between my fingers. It’s making everything sloppy, messy, and sticky.
“Fuck, Evie, please.”
I pull off, taking in a large gulp of air as I peer up at him. He’s staring at me like I’ve just shown him a whole new world. And I did. I am.
“You taste so good, puppy,” I tell him, and Skylar whines. He actually fucking whines, loud and desperate as my tongue drags up the bottom of his length. He’s hot, pulsing against me.
“God, this is embarrassing. I’m already close,” he complains, and I give him a wet kiss at the base of his dick.
“That’s okay. It’s your first time; that’s normal. Want me to stop?”
“Maybe? I don’t want this to end yet.” He sounds so delicious like this. All desperate and at my mercy. I’ll do anything he asks of me, anything he commands.
I stand, giving him a moment to come down from the peak he was cresting. I watch him watch me, all doe-eyed and dependent on my every move.
Skylar inhales sharply as I unbutton my slacks, letting them drop to the floor. Stepping out of them, I gently kick them to the side.
“Can I?” he asks, sitting up and reaching for my briefs.
I let him, silently dropping my arms to my sides. Skylar yanks the fabric down, startling himself when my stiff cock springs free, smacking into my stomach. Those wide eyes devour me, taking in every hard, leaking inch.
They slowly rise to meet mine a moment later, and he breathes out, “Fuck.”
I swear to god, my dick just got harder.
“Lay down,” I instruct, and as he does, I begin to lay kisses over his thighs, up to his hips, and onto his smooth stomach.
All the while his hands roam me. Over my shoulders, into my hair, down my back as far as they can reach. My swollen head is dragging up his leg the further I climb, and it’s driving me crazy. Once I reach his nipples, I pull one into my mouth, feeling him arch into me as he moans.
“What the fuck?” It’s a soft, shocked curse as it leaves him.
I roll the hardened peak between my teeth, flicking the other one, hardening it to match. “You’re so sensitive here. That’s so good, so beautiful.”
“Hngh,” he groans, attempting to rub his hips up and into mine.
I hold him down—didn’t he say he wanted this to last?
This definitely needs to last.
I bite down on his collarbone before switching to lick up his neck. A second later, as the last of my restraint falls away, I’m straddling his hips and staring straight into his eyes.
Cupping my hand, I raise my palm and place it right next to his mouth. “Spit.”
I can read the confusion in his eyes, but he tilts his head up and to the side, doing it anyway.
The slight roll of my hips, the low groan that leaves me—I can’t be faulted for either of these things while Skylar stares up at me, a string of his saliva trailing from his bottom lip to my hand. So fucking filthy.
Animal instincts take over, and I lean down and lick him clean, taking his spit from his lip. Of all the things I’ve done to him tonight, this feels the most intimate.
Skylar watches me as I sit back up, raising my hand to add my own spit to his.
Then I take that hand, reach between us, and at the same time that I take his mouth with mine, I wrap my first around both of our lengths and give them one hard pump.