39. Blesk
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
blesk
"Take off that little nightgown."
My body flushes with warmth—arousal and shame—for what I just suggested. Part of me wishes I could go back in time and erase that conversation, but it’s happening…
He is staring at me. Green eyes somehow both beautiful and devious, safe and thrilling. Without taking his gaze off me, he pops the top button of his jeans. "Let's process, Duch. Are you nervous?" He leaves his jeans open at the top, showing a strip of light brown pubic hair.
I shuffle on the edge of his mattress. My hands— I find the edge of my silk gown, fidgeting with it. He is looking right through me, to my gross parts, to my unpleasant and wrong parts. Does he see them that way? Are they?
"Yes,” I admit.
"Why?"
"I might mess up."
"Mess up what?” He walks to the bedroom door and locks it.
I look at the light switch. Then at him.
“No,” he answers me without a question. “Light stays on.
Don't hide anything from me. Blush. Moan.
Scream." He pauses, and then finally says, "Flinch, Blesk.
I plan on doing things to you that will make you flinch—and shudder. Don't hold back."
My shoulders drop and rise as I draw sweet air in, somehow breathless from the laps his eyes are running around my body. “Are you going to get naked, too?”
“When you beg me to.”
I stifle a smile. I part my lips, panting, and rise on shaky legs. I want to remove my clothes with the confidence Pemberton did that day, just wrench the gown over my head, and cup his cock… “I…”
“Do you want help?”
“Yes.”
“Beg.”
I bite my smile, wanting to giggle, the sound filling my throat, but he is so serious. “Please,” I breathe.
The corner of his lips ticks up as he takes two steps towards me, his presence alone making my pussy wet and my knees weak.
I crane my neck when he gets close enough to touch me, to smell him.
Holding my gaze through his lower lashes, he places his warm palms on the outside of my thighs and slides the gown over my head.
I shake my hair loose as he pulls the silk free from my face, then lifts the black fabric to his nose and inhales, eyes unwavering on me.
He tosses it to a chair in the corner of the room; the way he twists his naked torso displays the rippling muscles on his sides. I didn’t know humans had so many—so many tiny and large muscles all stacked on top of each other.
His gaze meets mine again. “Lean back on the bed.” The roughness in his voice sends electric shocks of pleasure through me. I drop backwards onto the bed, naked and exposed for him.
My belly trembles. “Do you…” I swallow. “Do you like what you see?”
Another lazy smirk.
He can somehow look so menacing when he wants to. I quiver on the mattress beneath his hot and heavy attention.
My eyes follow his hand as it tucks down the front of his jeans, stroking his erection up and down. I moan and rock to the same rhythm.
"Scoot backwards and spread your legs.” He pulls his hand free, leaving the flushed crown of his cock visible between his open denim.
I lick my lips and lean back on my palms, pressing my feet into the mattress. I edge one foot out at a time, moving slowly as we hold each other captive in this connection.
His eyes drop to the slit between my legs, his jaw snapping on a groan. “Don’t move. Stay right there. You’re dripping. You really are—” His green eyes lift to meet mine. “A pretty little whore for me.”
I throw my head back and moan unabashedly, my toes curling on the mattress, fingers digging into the sheets, body blushing and exposed. I don’t have time to dwell or care. Not right now. I want all the things I’ve never had from sex.
"Beg me.” He unzips his jeans, then moves his hands away from them. “Do you want this? You can do it. Be a good girl. Beg me to fuck you.”
I stare up at him, getting dizzy from the desire radiating off him. His light brown hair is deliciously messy, matching the stubble along his square jawline. Gorgeous.
“Please.”
"Please what?”
I know what he’s doing. Somehow being dominant but not controlling. Konnor guides, holding my hand but not pulling. “Touch me.” God, don’t ask me where. Don’t make me say anything else. I send the thought out into the world, not sure if my tongue can form the right words.
My skin tingles as he comes for me, prowling onto the mattress, forcing me onto my spine with a gasp. His lips take my mouth, then devour my jaw, trailing south in a frenzy of tongue, mouth, and breath.
I melt into his kisses, no static, only sensation, trust, and warmth. I feed my hands through his soft hair as he sucks my nipple into his mouth, his hand coming up to massage the side. I can feel his hard muscles against my soft body.
Konnor groans against my breast, the sound of his pleasure making me lift my hips into him, seeking pressure.
Crawling down, he stops between my thighs.
His lips are on my pussy before my next thought forms, and the one after that, and the one after t-that…
I close my eyes as his tongue swipes up and down—a sensation I’ve never experienced before. So sensual and wet and raw.
Intimate.
With long, slow strokes, his skilled tongue parts me, then thrusts in. I grow wetter, from him, from me, and my legs tremble around his head.
I paw at his hair, moaning. The pleasure is… It’s nothing like before. It’s… My pussy feels like it’s swelling. I curl my toes into the sheets, rubbing against his face. My body begs him to keep going.
"This…” He licks me, then shifts to introduce a single finger between my lips, sliding in to his knuckle. “Is how you deserve to be enjoyed. For dessert. With the lights on.”
He dips down, mouth locking around my clit, tongue finding the peak, bearing down on it with a relentless demand. I cry out, fingers restless in his hair, body writhing. “Please, Please.”
My head spins, my only focus the path of his stroking finger and his eager tongue. Two sensations at once—too much sensation at once.
That’s when it happens.
Fast.
His tongue somehow curls pleasure all the way into my veins. Like a crescendo, the moment just after the ballad ends, and you fall to silence, riding the emotion of the song.
I come apart, pulse thrashing, warmth flooding me like a sudden fever. “Oh, Konnor!”
“That’s it. Good little whore.”
Oh, God.
Why do I like that?
He leaves his finger inside me as I drift down from that high but slides up on my body until he is over me, a presence ready to do more, so much more. “This is how it will be. Whenever I want it. In my car. In the kitchen. In front of your fucking roommate.”
I look up into his green eyes full of lust, wondering how Corny Konnor Slater can go from perfectly sweet, to a complete male full of dark desires and mystery. How many women have seen this side of him? Ugh. I close my eyes, not wanting the images, not wanting to sabotage this—
“Do you want to feel me inside you?”
I open my eyes, head already nodding vigorously.
“I want to fuck you slowly, Duch.” He sinks another finger inside me. Both move slowly, winding me into coils of need. “I want to be deep, tangled, and staring straight into your eyes, but right now… You’re my little whore.”
Without taking his eyes off me, he slides backwards off the bed, dragging me with him until I’m on the very edge, feet still on the mattress, legs spread for him. He rips open his jeans, pushes them down, and strokes from the base of his cock to the tip, squeezing clear fluid onto my thigh.
I blush. “Did– Did you come?”
“Ouch.” He mock-frowns. “That’s precum, Duch. Having your taste on my lips drives me crazy.” He flattens one hand against my thigh, then drops his gaze from mine to watch himself ease slowly inside me, one careful inch at a time.
My breath catches.
My eyes fall closed against the stretch.
“Open your eyes.”
My eyes open and seek the dark reassurance in his, a moment before he thrusts into me, snatching the last wisp of air from my lungs. His head drops back on a long, relieved groan once he has me impaled, and I don’t know which way is up or down or whether there is room left inside me for oxygen.
As he straightens, he grabs my thigh and hip and starts to thrust in and out of my pussy, his hips knocking me up the mattress while his hands hold me to take each punishing drive.
“This is how you want it?” he rasps. “With my cock deep inside you. Your moans bouncing around my room, so everyone knows, everyone hears, what I do to you. Let's make sure everyone downstairs knows you're mine—and I'm yours."
Suddenly I am in awe of his long, lean body and the way his muscles ripple and contract. I see all of him, enjoying me, loving me, claiming me in the light.
Not a dirty secret.
Not to him.
“Get out of your head, Duch.” He pulls out of me.
A gasp breaks my mouth when he flips me onto my stomach, entering me again from behind, the hot, hard edges of his body meeting my back, his hips unforgiving in their rhythm.
“You want this.” He fucks me against the mattress, my body coming alive in a way that kills all thought besides pleasure.
“Want me wild and reckless with you.” His lips touch my ear.
“Fuck… You feel so good. So tight, so small around my cock. My little, inexperienced whore. Just for me.”
Every muscle inside me tightens at once. Blood races. Heart thrashes. Mouth gasping between yelps and moans. A sensation explodes in the distance, and his cock moving and straining inside me pushes me straight towards it.
I moan, so close.
"What's wrong?” His devious words play at my temple. “Looks like my pretty little whore needs to come again.”
He pulls out, and my mind drops back to the moment, more needy than before. This isn’t what I’ve experienced. My body isn’t just responding to him, lubricating and automatic—it is painfully yearning for him. That’s not what it was like with… My body didn’t really like it with…
It… survived it.
My body saved me.
He rolls me to face him again, sliding back inside me, folding his body over mine. I wrap my legs around him and sweep my arms across his thick shoulders, pressing my lips to his.
We move together slowly. Lips slide clumsily on lips. Eyes caught by eyes. Limbs tangled, breath shared.
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
He release a long groan, dropping his forehead into the curve of my neck, his body tensing and hot to the touch.
“One more for you,” he bites out, wrestling internally with his arousal, as he lifts my thigh to angle his pelvis lower, his hard length hitting something inside me with arrowed precision.
My body convulses with pleasure. His cock grows fast, throbbing and thickening, as I come, my insides squeezing against his penetration.
I gasp, lightheaded.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He spills inside me, hot and messy, thrusting and working through it like an athlete on the final stretch of a marathon.
The weight of him intensifies as he shudders over me, long moments passing as he relaxes, refocuses. “Are you…” He pants, lifting his head, sweat on his forehead and lust in his gaze. “Are you with me?”
My palm finds the warm, damp skin at the nape of his neck. “I’m with you.”
“Please tell me, Blesk.” His eyes search mine, pupils wide with a concern surfacing from somewhere deep. “The truth, baby. No static? Right? No static?”
His emotions hit me hard. “No static.” I kiss his lips. “I was there. The whole time.”