Chapter 19 Annie
NINETEEN
Annie
Nico’s head breaks through the surface of the lake, whips back and forth as he clears the water from his face.
His smile is as blinding as the sun’s reflection on the water surrounding him.
He leans back and assumes a casual float, that duck on his pec bobbing through the water, while I stare and stare and stare.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” he finally calls up. “Get in here and wash away those sins, honey.”
Another hysterical giggle breaks free. “Wow,” I say.
“Wow,” he agrees.
I sit at the edge of the cliff and dangle my legs. “Are you the Jesus in this baptismal scenario?”
He starts kicking, swimming in small, leisurely circles. “If that’s what Sister Annie wants to call me when she’s screamin’ later, sure. But I prefer Nico.”
I shake my head again. “Wow.”
He grins.
“How about Chef?”
Nico tilts his head, his smile turning quizzical. “I’m not technically a chef, so maybe not. But whatever floats your boat.”
One sec. Does he… not know?
“Nico.”
“Hmm?”
I stand.
“Nico.”
“What, babe?”
“You are making a NakedReactions cookbook.” I kick off my shoes and my socks.
A line appears between Nico’s thick eyebrows.
“You asked Hawk Publishing House to get someone to ghostwrite it for you.” His hoodie, my shirt, my shorts come off.
The smile grows on his face as he comes to understand.
And, as I’ve done for the last several months, I make the last statement a lie. “That ghostwriter is not me.”
I close my eyes and leap.
Turns out washing your sins away in a quarry lake is a frigid experience. My lungs seize as soon as I’m under, but the shock of it all is pretty cleansing, I guess.
When I surface, Nico is laughing so hard I’m afraid he might drown.
“Annie,” he huffs, “and I mean this lovingly—shut the fuck up.”
“Yep.”
“No way.”
“Yes way.”
“Wow.”
“Wow.”
Nico throws his head back and laughs again, my own giggles (do I giggle now?) joining, the echoes of us bouncing on and across the water, against the rock cliffs surrounding us.
We swim towards each other without discussing it, both deliriously giddy with the truth.
“Hey, Chef,” I say, when we’re inches away, our knees and toes knocking together under the water.
He smiles, and it’s devastating. “Hi, Ali.”
“A. Li,” I grin.
His laughter wraps around me, warmth blooming through the cool hush of the water. “I’m such a fuckin’ fool.”
“Same.”
“You’ve been on my side this whole time,” he says more softly.
“Same,” I repeat, throat clogging with something.
“I know you.”
I clear my throat. “Same.”
The water droplets on the tips of his eyelashes sparkle while the ones on the pink of his pretty lips scream, lick me. When I look up, he’s looking at my mouth like he’s hungry for it, too.
He meets my eyes. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.
“You’re so beautiful it hurts to look at you,” he starts. “I’m dying to put my hands all over you.”
Is it possible to melt in cold water?
“And… I’m waiting for you to find equilibrium and say ‘fuck Sister Annie’ and make the first move…” he trails off, trying to make it a lie, “…with the utmost patience. The most freakin’ patience anyone has ever had in the history of the universe.”
“Fuck Sister Annie,” I respond immediately. I move in and lick the water droplets off his lips. “First move.”
His eyes darken, his smirk turning sharp, before looking up and around. “Unfortunately, despite how easy it may look in the movies, I can’t make out with you while treading water. I’m not that strong a swimmer.”
Laughing, I start making my way towards the cliffs, towards a vertical path of rocks where it looks like you can climb back up to the top, but Nico cuts me off. “This way,” he says, swimming to somewhere on the other side.
He stops at the base of the cliff, at a small series of rocks sticking out of the water, the top just flat and wide enough for him to pull himself out and sit on. That’s it, though. No more room for me or anything else.
“So, I, too, only have a few minutes of treading water in me—” I start, but I am interrupted when he hooks his hands under my armpits, bodily lifts me out of the water, maneuvers my knees to either side of his hips, and settles me into his lap.
Like this, we’re eye-level, his radiant under the sun.
“Hey, Nico,” I say, already breathless.
“Hi, Annie,” he answers, then drags me to him by the back of my neck.
There’s no preamble this time, just Nico using a thumb to wrench my jaw down so he can fuck his tongue right in, immediately fisting my hair and using it to control our angle, velocity, depth, not that it matters, because our teeth still clash together with the force of our mutual assault.
Who in the world taught this Dungeons and Dragons, Magic the Gathering motherfucker to kiss? I owe them my life. His tongue is obscene in the way it tangles with mine, hard, demanding, hot, and rough, lewd when he uses it to drag a long stripe up my neck.
He traps my bottom lip between his teeth and tugs as he pulls away, his hand caressing my jaw, then my throat. A finger moves lower. We both watch as it traces the tattoos on my chest with reverence and care.
“It’s been a year, Sister Annie. How would you like me to break your vows?” he murmurs with an upward thrust of his hips.
Whoa. Jesus.
“I told you—I prefer Nico,” he says, and I guess I said that out loud.
“I’ve wanted to put your dick in my mouth for months now,” I breathe, “so maybe there?”
He groans, pulsing up once more. Jesus motherfucking Christ. “I heard you say that to your perverted geriatric girl gang. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.”
“Thinking about what?” I breathe. I have no idea what he’s talking about anymore.
Nico pauses the winding, searching path of his hands for a moment to lean in and suck on the skin on my chest, drawing it between his teeth, breaking the blood vessels and shooting a bolt of electricity directly to where it counts.
He smiles at the artwork he’s left behind, right between two tattoos.
“I’ve imagined doing that for days now. So pretty.
” He circles the rapidly reddening mark with his fingers.
I grind down on the behemoth currently between my legs.
I think I’m whining, but Nico doesn’t seem to care.
He gently angles me back. His fingers wander, dance up the string of my bikini, following the line of it down, down, down, until he reaches the triangle and traces over the seam hugging my breast.
He swipes a finger in, pulls the cup out, and hooks the entire thing under.
And then it’s his turn to stare. And stare. And stare.
I grin.
Nico is shellshocked. “Wh—This entire time…” He tugs on the cup of the other side and does the same thing, both my tits now bracketed by my bikini and lifted and presented to him in offering.
He wets his lips. “Don’t fuckin’ tell me these pretty little nipples were pierced the whole time?
Three feet away from me? The entire time? ”
“Are you going to salivate over them or salivate on them?” I demand to know, hips still circling, needing something, anything but his eyes to touch them now.
Evil glints in his eyes as he rakes a hand over his open mouth. “Both,” he finally says, spitting on the right one before wrapping his lips around it.
I would have fallen back into the water if he didn’t have an arm around my back. I grip onto his hair and hold on for dear life.
He uses a thick hand in tandem with his tongue and mouth, lifting the heavy weight of my breast towards his face while licking, sucking, tugging, tonguing the bar back and forth. For minutes, hours, slurping and squeezing and moaning as if he hasn’t eaten in years.
I am not proud of the sounds leaving my own mouth, the heat of it all shooting through to my fingertips, down, down to where it aches so badly that I’d come if Nico so much as looked at it.
“How could you hide these from me, honey?” he croons on his way to lavish the other side, rolling the abandoned one between his fingers.
“How dare you?” Nico says, minutes, hours later. And with no warning at all, he lifts me slightly to land a sharp slap directly on my clit.
Wh— I scream, the shocking force of my first non-self-induced orgasm in a year bending me backwards, light and color swirling, and Nico, dear Nico, gives me the flat of his palm to ride out every single wave.
“Wow, baby, look at you,” he’s muttering into my ear. “You’re so pretty when you smile, but you’re even prettier when you come. Was that your first since Sister Annie? How did that feel?” he murmurs in between deep draws of my tits as he tugs the bottom of my bathing suit to the side.
“Who the fuck are—” I gasp, but I am rudely interrupted by one (two?!) finger(s) sliding right up into my trembling pussy with no fucking warning and forcing past any resistance.
He hisses. “Does this tight pussy need to be stretched after an empty two years?”
“Dildos are a thi—” I try to retort, but I am again rudely interrupted when I quickly realize that my collection of dildos has nothing, actually, on Nico’s (three?) fingers.
He rubs my front walls with the tips, my clit with his palm, gripping my entire fucking cunt in his big hand and working it.
Back and forth, while I pant and moan above him.
“Give me another,” he whispers with a rough jiggle, and oh fuck.
“Nico!” I sob, this orgasm even bigger, stronger, more painful than the last, my vision whiting out at the corners. My spine might be broken with the force of it, and then I no longer exist.
When I finally float down, Nico pulls his hand out, the entire thing embarrassingly shiny with my wet. “Salty,” he says, as he licks a tear sliding down my cheek; “Sweet,” as he licks his own hand from palm to fingertip.
My heart slams out of my ribcage. I rest my head on Nico’s shoulder, now red and inflamed from my nails. He wraps his arms around me in a tight hug while I try to lower my heart rate.
“Who are you, and what happened to the kid who cried during fourth grade dodgeball?” I ask after catching my breath.
I feel him smile against my hair. “He grew up to be a meticulous scientist with a deep-seated obsession with empirical observation and rigorous data collection.” He pauses. “And to have a big dick.”
Laughing, glowing, radiant, I pull my head back. “Speaking of which,” I say, grinding down on it, “give me a taste.”
“I want to eat first,” he says, his tongue licking into my mouth again, taking languid, leisurely sips. “But maybe if you’re good, I’ll feed it to you later.”
I need a second, so I draw my legs down and lower into the water. My feet find purchase on some rock, and I tug on the sides of his swim shorts. “I’m hungry now,” I say, and he lifts his hips so I can pull it down the rest of the way.
I stare, and stare, and stare.
Nico leans his head back, exposing the arrogant slope of his jaw and his neck. “Don’t look so surprised. You’ve seen it before, honey.”
“But—” I blink. “But not like this,” I sputter, gesticulating wildly. “I’d ask you if you’ve considered porn, but…”
He laughs, brown eyes sparkling in the sun. “Good one, Annie Li. Now shut up and suck that dick.”
And finally, after months of waiting, I do.
I lick it like it’s the last fucking ice cream cone I’ll ever eat. Trace my tongue up his length, wiggle it under the sensitive underside, swirl and suction around the broad head, before taking him as deep as I can. Salty heat and sweet musk. He’s delicious.
“Stop,” he grunts suddenly. Nico fists my hair to keep me down and thrusts up into my throat once, letting out a moan from deep in his belly.
He uses his other hand to wipe the tears leaking from my eyes, then traces my lips stretched around his girth.
“Yeah. Good,” he says, and, “I knew it. You’re even prettier when you’re gagging on me. ”
Another burst of warmth in my chest, luminous under his words. I want more. I want it all, so I go to motherfucking town.
“Yeah,” he groans, “just like that,” “take a little more,” “perfect,” “pretty girl, your mouth is heaven on fucking earth,” he’s saying in between my explicit slurps. “You’re gonna make me come, beautiful,” he breathes, impossibly large in my mouth, thighs trembling, and then…
Laughter.
Laughter, from far away.
From… up the cliff and down the trail.
I go to pull away, but Nico now holds my head in both his hands. “Nuh uh,” he scolds. “Hold on tight, Annie.”
I dig my nails into his thighs, our moans a low chorus as he fucks my face. One, two, three, four… before he pulls out. I take a deep inhale of air while he strangles his own cock, jerking the swollen tip aggressively.
“Let me paint those tits, honey,” he grits out, impossibly handsome, impossibly imposing above me, the cords in his thick neck straining. I give them to him, and he aims his dick right at the mark he’s sucked and comes in spurts with a muted, drawn-out groan.
Chest heaving, he opens his eyes and admires his artwork, rubbing some of his release into the hickey and swiping what’s gotten on my nipple piercings onto his fingers.
“Open up, Annie,” he whispers. “Tongue out.”
I do as I’m told, moaning softly as he drags the come on his fingers onto my outstretched tongue.
“You taste so good,” I tell him, after swallowing it down.
The resulting look he gives me can only be described as tenderness. Maybe devotion.
There’s a splash in the lake behind us.
Nico fixes my bathing suit and slides us into the water. “Shame,” he whispers. “I wanted to appreciate your new artwork a little longer.” He kisses my head and takes my hand to swim us over to the other side.