Chapter 13 Stefan #2
His hand tightens in my hair, and he pulls my head further over.
And then his stubble is scraping back up my neck, his teeth nibbling at my throat.
And I never, ever want it to stop. He bites a little harder, wrenching a groan out of me.
Forcing me to buck up against him again.
This time he lets me have more of the friction.
Pressing back down on me until I can rub against him.
My vision goes white with absolute bliss.
He's going to kill me. If he keeps this up, I'm going to die of suffocation.
Or a heart attack. Or simple, straightforward need.
Can someone die of need? I don't know, but I'm about to find out.
“Evan.” The word is another groan, followed by a sharp breath as he bites my earlobe, hard.
Hard enough to make my vision white out again.
“Please.” What am I begging for? No idea, but I need it.
Desperately. More than I've ever needed anything.
He growls something, but I'm incapable of making out the words.
My brain stopped working a long time ago.
His fingers find my nipple, and he tweaks it and bites down again at the same time.
Neither is gentle, but it's not quite painful.
What it is, is hot as fuck. And impossibly, humiliatingly, it's enough to send me over the edge, my body crashing into his.
Come spurting into my briefs in hot release.
Evan slows his movements, his breath panting in my ear. "There's my boy."
My boy, what does that even mean? I don't care for more than the time it takes to ask myself.
I'm too blissed out to be worried about anything right now.
“Holy shit, Evan.” It should be awkward.
It probably will be soon. I just came in my pants from a kiss.
Maybe the bite? What is it about Evan that turns me into an adolescent boy?
But right now, the way he feels against me, sounds, what I can read from his expression, leave no room for embarrassment.
It's kind, sweet. Proud, even. Of himself? Or of me for letting myself go?
Maybe both.
Instead of pulling my hair, his hand is soothing now.
Stroking my hair away from my sweaty face.
The other one is still inside my shirt, but it's lying still over my chest. A light pressure above my heart.
“Well, that was unexpected.” I can tell he's trying to keep his voice light, but the hint of an edge colors it.
Some sort of pressure he's keeping inside.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come so—"
“No, not that.” The lightness seems more genuine, humor taking over, if the smile playing on his mouth is any indication. “You were perfect. The fact it happened in the first place.”
Was it unexpected? Really? I can't be the only one who's been feeling sparks for days. Unless—maybe I was. Maybe I am. Maybe he was just being nice, kissing me. Letting me kiss him, in reality. And then I came, out of nowhere, without doing anything at all for him.
He can't have gotten any satisfaction out of that. Fuck. I'm a bad lay.
I manage to move my own hand, stroking down Evan's back. “Here, let me...” I'm not sure what I want him to let me do. Give him a hand job. Blow him. I'm not sure I'm ready to blow him. Are we even still in the right mood for either of those things?
He squirms away just as my hand reaches his ass and starts to wrap around.
“No.” He's smiling at me, something like fondness, I hope, in his eyes.
“You don't have to do anything. Watching you unravel was the most incredible thing I've ever seen.” He pauses.
Then he grins. “Well, second most maybe. That quint may have beat it.”
I do my best to arrange my face into a glare. “I fell on the quint. It can't have been that spectacular.” We're back on familiar ground. And I'm more than a little appreciative of it. Thank you, Evan.
“Hey, I'm the one who gets to decide what my best moments are.” He leans down and brushes our lips together, then rolls away. I don't realize the face I'm making until he looks back at me. Laughs and taps my mouth with his finger. “Don't pout.”
“I'm not pouting. I don't pout.”
“Tell that to your lips.” He replaces his finger with his mouth for another light kiss. “That was amazing, Stefan. Thank you.”
Was it though? How could it have been amazing for him? For me, yes, but for him? “Are you sure you don't want me to…” The words trail off again. Why am I incapable of saying the words?
“I'm sure.” His hand slides down my chest and out of my shirt. I miss it immediately. "Also, we could be interrupted at any moment."
What is he—oh, fuck. I've forgotten where we are, what's happening around us.
And more fuck. Was this just a way to distract me? Nothing more than a diversion to occupy me in the darkness? "Did you just do that to keep me from freaking out?"
He laughs, rolling back into me to kiss me again, hot, deep, but brief. "Come on." With a single movement, he's on his feet, a hand held out to help me up. "I can't believe I rolled around on that floor."
Letting him pull me up, I look down at the floor in question. My brain is still mostly offline, but yeah, ok. He's right. It's far from clean. When he stoops down to pick up his phone, his face dips into the light, and I watch it for clues.
Nothing but his usual cheerful smile. While I'm feeling everything.
As soon as we get out of this elevator, he'll be leaving, and I'm not sure I'm ok with that.
I don't want him to go. I really, really don't want him to go.
Not just because that was the most incredible orgasm I've ever had.
But because Evan—I want to spend time with him, all the time.
Way more time than I have available to spend with somebody else.
Even if it's in a stuck elevator. So maybe it's best he's leaving, because that realization is more terrifying than being stuck in that fucking elevator.