Chapter 14 #2
I don’t procrastinate. I’m a good student and an even better teacher.
I don’t like letting my mind slip up when I’m supposed to be focusing on something, but the feeling of his hard muscles underneath my body, the warmth of his skin grazing mine, and the sound of his heart inside of his chest practically begging to be set free.
I can hardly recognize what’s on the TV in front of me.
My heart is beating so loud I feel like it’s drowning out every sound in the room.
Bellamy moves his hand under the covers, and I feel it on my leg, right over my knee, slowly moving up my thigh.
His hand moves up my leg slowly, grazing my ass, and moving back down to my upper thigh, resting there.
His fingers trace slow circles, and I feel my heart pick up, and I can hear his beating faster just at the touch of my skin to his.
I don’t beg. I don’t make it known how badly I want, no need, physical touch from any man.
.. But I would beg Bellamy to touch me if it came down to it.
.. Right now I’m thinking about it all as his fingers toy with the hem of my shorts, dangerously close to my ass.
I wait, wondering what to say or if I should say anything at all.
I wonder if I should just move onto him, kiss him… Touch him...
There’s an unease about all of this with me.
There’s no hesitation to actually do things with Bellamy.
I want to do everything but I fear the unknown.
I fear rejection... And most of all I fear just how comfortable all of this feels with him.
I would feel comfortable asking him for something, I know he would joke with me, and I know he would try his hardest to make me feel good in every sense.
I don’t know why I’m uneasy with comfortability but I am.
Hookups are never comfortable. They’re awkward and mixed up.
This is a hookup on the next level. This feels like a friendship, but more.
It feels like. I don’t know… I don’t know what anything feels like besides the feeling of his massive hands inching closer and closer to my ass.
.. He’s eager yet smooth with the way his fingers graze me.
“I want you…” He speaks out, and I’ve never been so relieved to hear any words come from anyone's mouth.
There was a silent tension that neither of us wanted to break, but I’m so fucking happy he did.
“Oh thank god,” I speak out, and before I can turn myself over, he’s gripping my thigh tight, and pulling me up.
I’m straddling his lap now, and he’s staring at me with desperation in his eyes. I fight the urge to let my eyes roll back at the sight of him like this, wanting me like this.
“I’m going to need you to come here,” He speaks out, and I lean forward only slightly, but it’s enough for him.
He reaches up, his hand gripping the back of my neck, pulling me down to him.
His lips captivate mine, overtaking me in the most pleasurable way possible, every sense in my body shattered, and thrown out the window.
He brings his free hand up my back, slipping it under my shirt to hold me in place.
He leans up into the kiss, hunger present in every movement he makes.
He sits himself up fully, his back now pressed against the headboard of my bed while I stay on his lap.
He takes me quickly, flipping the two of us so I’m under him, and he has all the power over me.
He brings his lips down to mine, feverish and wanting as they kiss me.
The desperation is prominent every time our lips meet, and it sends waves of heat and pleasure down my spine.
Kissing him is always an experience. It has been everywhere I have done it, but kissing him in my bed, it’s a different kind of pleasure that I didn’t know I’d feel.
“Everything is on the table?” He asks with his lips against mine, and I nod as his fingers push the shirt I wear up my body exposing myself to him.
“Everything,” I breathe out, wondering what thoughts are crossing his mind right now, knowing all of them would be far too dirty to speak out in a crowded room.
His hands are grazing my skin, teasing me, clouding my head, pulling at every want I’ve ever had inside of me.
It’s easy to let my head reel with him, to let myself lose all control, and let him do anything and everything, especially with his fucking hands…
Especially considering he’s learning what makes me tick.
He’s learning my body, and what I like. What I want.
What I need. He makes it easy to lose control.
But right now I want control. I move my hand, sliding my fingers under his waistband so I can hook my hand around it.
“Ryn...” He breathes out, my name turning into a mumble against my lips.
I push him back, my eyes locked with his, looking for approval.
“Are you sure?” He asks.
His eyes never leave me. His concern for me sends shockwaves through my body. His hesitancy and worry for me only heighten the lust I have for him.
“Positive..” I nod my head, signaling him to move.
“But-”
“Shut the fuck up, and let me get on my knees for you,” I never thought I’d be saying those words to him.
He looks at me, eyebrows raised. His shock only stands for a moment before he moves, listening to my words.
I know now that I want to know the same things he does.
I want to know what makes him tick. I want to know what makes him gasp, and moan, and I want to learn what makes him feel good.
I want to learn his body as if my life depends on it.
I follow him from the bed and lower myself down in front of him, not looking at him, knowing I might lose it if I see him staring at me.
I’m not the shy type, especially when it comes to my sexual wants and needs... But when Bellamy looks at me the way he does I feel like I’ve never been looked at before. His gaze is hard, strong, and intense. It locks me in place and shoots my nerves in every direction.
I wrap my hands around his waistband, slowly pulling down. I reveal his length and instantly feel warmth hit my abdomen at the sight of its size. I squeeze my thighs as I take him in, looking at Bellamy Archer in full. Dear god, he’s going to fucking destroy me, and I’ll be happy to let him.
I take him in my hand, not hesitating to do so, and I look up just to see him dissolve into pleasure with one stroke.
I use my tongue to remove the precome that drips from the tip of his cock.
I hear a tiny gasp leave his lips, and instantly crave more sounds from him, just like that one.
I take him in my mouth, my lips wrapping around the soft flesh, my hand still working him as well.
A guttural moan leaves his lips, and I move my tongue swirling it around his length, feeling everything between my thighs as I fuck him with my mouth.
I open my mouth, gasping for a breath as I move against him, and I look up at him, my eyes finally locking with his. He stares down at me, watching me while I take him, and I see every ounce of the pleasure I am causing him inside his blue eyes.
I see all of the wanting he has, I see the hunger, the need.
I see it all and I bat my eyes despite the burn in them.
I take all of him, feeling his length in the back of my throat, tears threatening my eyes.
I brush my tongue against him, pressing down, flattening it as I get closer to the tip, his most sensitive area being stroked as I pleasure him.
He moves his hands threading them into my hair, pulling it back, tugging tightly on the strands, and I moan against his dick.
“Kamryn, don’t fucking do that,” He speaks harshly, but the intensity of his voice makes me want to test him further.
I go deep once more, a few tears actually slipping from my eyes this time.
I moan again, the moan vibrating from my chest as I wrap my lips around him, bobbing my head, pressing my tongue, and swirling it too.
I watch as he unravels under me, every bit of his composure shattered into a million and one pieces right in front of my eyes.
His body is covered in chills, and I feel him empty himself in my mouth, the warmth down my throat as I take it.
He’s pulling tighter on my hair now as he releases, and I have never been more fine with an action.
I slowly draw my tongue up his length one last time, removing him from my mouth, still pumping him in my hand as I look up at him.
He’s lost in feeling right now, his head tilted to the ceiling as he looks away from me.
I take a few staggered breaths, trying to return my breathing to normal after that.
I take his pants, and pull them up for him, standing up now, bringing myself to him, and he looks down at me, his eyes hazy.
He stares at me, his eyes shifting between mine, and then his hand is clasping my jaw, holding me in place so I’m looking up at him.
He brings himself down to me, and he kisses me hard again, flooding my stomach with warmth, my thighs clenching from just one kiss.
He takes me to another world with his lips, and I pull away before I’m drawn too far in, and can’t find a way out.
“You’re going to ruin me if you keep it up.”
I can’t help but let my smile show.
“Don’t boost my ego too much,” I joke, and he nudges my chin up again so I’m looking at him.
He wipes under my eyes, taking the very small bit of tears that slipped out, “Are you alright?”
I’m confused by the question at first, “Yes... Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know… That’s why I asked. I was just checking. Just making sure you’re okay. That everything is okay. You’re fine? That was fine?” He asks, and I nod.
“I started it. I wanted to,” I remind him.
“I know that. But sometimes people change their mind or do things, and regret it. Sometimes things are too much, and I just wanted to make sure.”
I feel that same warm feeling in my chest that makes me want to take his clothes off. I’m not sure why that’s my first instinct when I get mushy feelings in my chest, but it is.
I just stare at him, words lost in my throat at what to say.
“Come on, I think I should take the wrap off of your tattoo, it’s been over an hour,” He tells me, and I look at his.
“Mine stays on for a few days. it’s in a sensitive place.
It’s like a second skin, yours comes off now since your tattoo is smaller, and in a more covered spot.
Come on.” He nods his head to my bathroom, and I follow him, my mind still spinning at his concern for me, and his understanding of my wants, needs, and consent.
That’s a normal thing to care about but it’s not something most people do.
He walks me into my bathroom, and grabs my hips, placing me on top of my counter.
He holds my arm out, taking concern over my tattoo before his own.
He unwraps the plastic around it, and I feel a little sting as the air hits the sensitive skin.
I look at him, watching as he takes care of my tattoo like it’s the most important thing in the world to him at this moment.
My chest is warm at the sight, and I think of this, doing this with him, on the field, or off the field.
Wrapping his wrists like I had the other day or taking care of him when he needs it before a game.
I think of next year. I just think of him, and us, and this.
“What happens next year?” I hate asking.
I hate sounding desperate, but I shouldn’t keep these thoughts to myself.
“What do you mean?” He grabs a washcloth from the counter and wets it under the faucet.
“With us, after all of this fake dating… and the sex, and everything else?”
“Um... I don’t know. We don’t have to speak if that’s what you want. Or we can do whatever... Whatever is easiest for you.”
It feels like the question makes him uncomfortable right away. He’s hard to read sometimes. Right now is one of those times.
“What do you want?”
“Um... I don’t want to not speak to you. I really like talking to you, and hanging out with you… I like being around you. Take away the sex part, and all the making out, and I think we might be really, really good friends... I don’t know.”
Instant relief washes over me, “I’d like that too. I feel the same.”
“So we can be friends... After all of this, we can settle on friends.”
I nod, knowing that’s exactly what I want.
I think not having Bellamy to be around every now and again would be hard for me.
I’ve only ever genuinely spent time with him this week, and I love it far more than I thought I would.
He’s good company. He’s a good person. Friends is a word that leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
Kissing him is fun. I’m sure sex would be even better. But friends is... It’s fine.
“Good...” I agree, making it apparent to him that I’m on the same page.
But inwardly, it feels like I might not even be reading the same book.
I have no idea why either.