Chapter 20 #2
Oh, crapping, bloody HELL.
How did he know? How the hell did he pick up on it? I’ve NEVER been caught out before. This can’t be happening. I’d perfected the act.
At least, I thought I had.
I feel myself gaping at him for a second before giving in and covering my face with my hands. Can you actually die of this cringe-y awful feeling? Because if so, I’m definitely going to. I groan even more when I feel his hand stroking one of mine, soothing me.
“I’m sorry,” I say, muffled by my hands. No point in trying to deny it; he caught me bang to rights.
He takes both of my wrists and tugs gently, but I look away from him, too guilty and embarrassed to meet his eyes.
“It’s OK,” he murmurs gently, over and over. A single tear spills down my face, and he wipes it away with careful fingers. “It’s OK, chere, I promise.”
I nod, but I still want to implode with embarrassment. That’s twice this evening I’ve made a total and utter fool of myself.
He gently turns my head so I face him, and waits long moments for me to look him in the eye. There’s no hint of judgement or annoyance in his gaze. He leans down and kisses me as though nothing is wrong, as though I didn’t just...
“Were you enjoying yourself?” he asks softly.
I nod miserably. Because I was. I really, really was.
“So was I,” he says, taking my hand and pressing it against his crotch, grunting just a little at the contact before looking me in the eye once more, unashamed.
Holy shit. He is iron hard, the sort of hard that speaks of super-human restraint in not simply opening his fly and ramming into me just for the sheer physical relief it would bring.
I flex my hand, and his cock throbs wildly.
“Careful,” he murmurs with a low chuckle, “I’m just barely hanging on as it is. ”
“Wow,” I say weakly.
“That’s pretty much how I feel,” he replies, letting go of my hand.
I don’t move it, and his eyes light up with heated warning as he grins at me.
“I was enjoying doing those things to you,” he says to me in a firm voice, and indeed, with this sort of proof under my hand, I can do nothing but believe him.
“This is not a chore to me. I’m not sitting through this until it’s my turn.
I’m doing this because I genuinely…” he sighs, “seriously want to. I love the way you feel on my fingers. I love the way you taste. I like doing those things, and I want to carry on. And I don’t want to stop until you’ve genuinely come, and maybe not even then.
I have all the time in the world, and I’m in no rush.
There’s nothing else I’d rather be doing.
” He runs a thumb over my lips. “If you don’t think you want to come this time, that’s OK.
And if what I’m doing isn’t working for you, tell me and I can try something else.
Or stop. Whatever you want.” He shifts back down and kisses my belly, just above my mound.
“Just don’t pretend. I don't want anything fake between us. And don’t stop me because you think I’m finding this boring, because believe me, it’s the exact fuckin' opposite.”
How does he understand me so well already?
Because that’s exactly why I did it. Why I’ve always done it, with every other lover.
He was better than any of them ever were, though.
I was marvelling at how much I enjoyed his touch, how likely bordering on inevitable an orgasm seemed with him.
..and then I panicked. The old impulse to hurry things along so he didn’t get bored and irritated.
..so I could proceed with delivering his pleasure like a service I was providing…
I sigh. “I’m sorry. It’s just… Old habits die hard… ”
Both his thumbs run over my hips, and the feeling is compellingly delicious. “Old habits can be overcome,” he murmurs confidently. He lowers his head until I can feel his breath on my pussy. “May I carry on?”
This guy. Seriously.
“OK,” I say in a tremulous voice, resting my head back on the sofa and promising myself that this time I won’t pretend, that I’ll just enjoy what he does, and if an orgasm happens, it happens, and if it doesn’t, then it doesn’t matter. He said so. I’m probably too embarrassed to come now, anyway -
Barely is that thought out of my head when my whole body tenses and seizes up with pleasure zinging through my clit. Whatever he just did with his tongue was incredible. It feels like electricity shooting all through my body, warming me as it sparks. "Oh…" I say faintly.
This never happens. Not to me. I usually wait till the guy is asleep and then get myself off as silently as possible. With Eli, I get the strong sense that all I have to do is relax, and wait, and let the magic happen, and I will be rewarded. Can that really be the case?
His tongue flicks at me, all over my core, and I can tell he’s playing off my reactions to see what I like best. So I decide to trust him and work with him on this and be honest about it, being still when it only feels nice, and sighing when it feels great to encourage him when he gets it really right.
He doesn’t focus on my clit to the exclusion of all else, either, massaging my entrance with his tongue, kissing my outer lips, sucking on me gently, and he makes his own groaning noises as though this is really doing it for him, too, like this is something to savour…
I’m not sure if this has been going on for seconds or hours, but the difference is I no longer care. If this is selfish, so be it; I just want him to never stop. I'm panting. I'm soaking. I'm on fire.
When he adds a finger to resume stroking my g-spot, I’m basically done for, which is a shock because my g-spot has never really done anything for me until tonight.
Until Eli Gastright got hold of it and made it sing.
My breath comes in fitful pants, crying out as the feeling builds.
And it is building. I clutch my breasts; I always need something to hold onto when I come, and for some reason they’re always my go-to.
Always. And I’m doing that now, so this must be…
...Real.
My heart rate is picking up, too, and I stretch out my legs, tensing my thighs, straining for it, reaching…
And it happens. It’s more intense than when I masturbate, the orgasm sharper, hotter, and I can’t control the earthy sounds coming out of my throat, nor can I do anything about the way my face screws up.
He doesn’t let up the entire time, licking and stroking until I end up pushing gently on his head to get him to stop because it’s too much.
The smouldering, triumphant look he gives me nearly pulls another moan from me, it’s that sexy.
“You did it,” I gasp, giggling helplessly with genuine pleasure.
“Yeah, I felt it,” he whispers, and rests his forehead on my belly with a shaky sigh, kissing the patches of my skin under his lips. I can feel the tension in him. That gorgeous man is rigid with unfulfilled desire and need, and I cannot tolerate that for a second.
I sit up slightly, reaching down and pulling him towards me. He gives me a quizzical frown.
I can taste myself on his lips, and thank god, it tastes fine. Always good to know.
“Your turn,” I murmur, pushing him back on the sofa.
He shakes his head. “You don’t have to, that was for you - ”
“Then let me carry on, if it’s for me,” I say, pleading a little. I cannot leave him hard and do nothing about that. I want to play. I want to see his ‘O’ face, and know I put it there. “I want to…” is all I manage to say, but it’s enough.
He gives me a searching look, and, apparently finding what he was looking for, tears at the fly on his jeans. “Then yes, please…”
Grinning with delight, I pull his jeans down and run my hand over his boxers, along his rock hard cock. He exhales deeply at my touch, his eyes burning at me. It sends a tingle down my spine to see him so affected, and I can feel his eyes on my face as I reach into his briefs and pull out his cock.
He’s perfect. Long, but not too long: just exactly right.
Wide enough to send a chill of anticipation through me, and ramrod straight, with velvety skin over the pulsing hardness.
Taking him in my hand, I slide my fingers up the length of his shaft, rubbing the tip with my thumb, spreading the dewdrops of pre-cum that have gathered there.
It makes him shiver and hiss through his teeth.
“I want that mouth,” he whispers, desperation coursing through his words, and he shakes his head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to - ”
“Shh,” I soothe him, running my thumb over his lips the way he did with me. He catches it with his teeth, giving it a soft bite, and I grin. For better or worse, this is something I have confidence in, and I can’t wait to taste him, to bring him the same pleasure he was so determined to give to me.
He places his hand over mine and shows me the pressure he likes - harder than I usually do - and the right speed for him. I’m grateful for the insight, and give him a long, deep kiss. He cups my face in his hands, and I feel precious to him.
Breaking away, not giving him a moment to prepare, I shuffle down and give the head of his erection a tongue swirling suck, moaning with relish at his fresh, salty flavour. He lets out a loud grunt, throwing his head back and running his hands through my hair. “Chere...fuck…”
Smiling to myself, I take a little more of him into my mouth, and then a little more, enjoying the turgid smoothness, gleeful at sounds I’m wringing from him.
I thought the phone sex we had was hot as hell, but this makes it look like nothing in comparison.
The sense of power is exhilarating, the idea that he’s spellbound and at my mercy, that I can push him over the edge or force him to bask in the pre-glow, depending on my whim.
Running a hand down his thigh, I reach below to cup his balls, stroking them gently.
They’re already firm and tight, and the skin bunches up more under my touch.
There’s no way I can fit all of him in my mouth, so I pump my hand at the base in tandem, hollowing my cheeks as I suck on him, playing with him, massaging his banjo string with my tongue in a way that makes him shout.
“Fuck...FUCK...please,” he begs, and his hips start to thrust upwards reflexively.
I can see him try to control it, watching the fierce expressions on his face as he battles to control and master his body’s reactions, but it’s plain for me to see I can make him come in seconds if I want to.
And I want to.
I sink down again, taking as much of him as I can fit into my mouth, and then dragging my lips all the way up again, swirling my tongue around his helmet.
“Oh fuck… If you...” He's fighting for enough focus and breath to speak. "If you keep doing that, I'm gonna… Chere, I'm warning you… I'll explode in your mouth, so if you don’t want-” I do it again, harder this time. “Oh, FUCK,” he grits out, tensing, fighting to hold on...but then I suck him again, and he’s done for, moaning out a deep growl of agonised relief as he spills into my mouth, his dick throbbing hard. There’s so much of it, more than I’ve ever known anyone to come before, and I swallow as fast as I can.
He pulls me to him immediately, kissing me fiercely, over and over.
We can taste each other, and that's unbearably hot to me. He arranges me so I’m on top of him, my legs along his, tangling his fingers in the hair at the back of my head.
“Oh my god,” he says, sounding winded and very American, and I giggle.
“Good for you?” I ask.
He gives me the biggest grin I’ve ever seen on his face. “Amazing for me,” he sighs, kissing me again. “Are you OK?”
I nod enthusiastically, making him laugh. “That was perfect,” I admit. “I’m so sorry about the first - ”
“Don’t,” he cuts me off gently. “Don’t give it another thought. It’s fine.” He plays lazily with a strand of my hair. “We got you there in the end.”
“Boy, did you,” I say, laying my head on his chest, suddenly tired out, smiling at the slightly elevated thud, thud, thud of his heart under my ear. He still hasn’t completely returned to normal, and I’m glad it was that powerful for him.
“Baby?” he asks.
“Yeah?”
He runs a hand back and forth between my shoulder blades as the other rests at the base of my spine. “It seems pretty clear where we’re headed,” he says steadily, “so...we should probably have the talk.”
I shift my head up to look at him, smiling as I lean forward to kiss him. “I appreciate that,” I say honestly.
He looks a little relieved to hear me say that. “I’m all clear,” he says. “I haven’t slept with anyone since the last time I got tested.”
I nod. “I went and got tested after Gav, because I just didn’t trust him when he said he’d only cyber-cheated on me, and I tested negative across the board, thank god.”
He pulls me to him and gives me the softest of kisses. “OK, so...how would you like to go about this? We’ll do whatever you feel comfortable with. If you want condoms, I’ll wear condoms.”
I think about it for a few beats. “Would you mind if we didn’t? I mean, we’re both all clear, and we’re both infertile, so… Just so you know, I’m not on the pill or anything, cos there’s no point. I dunno, call me sappy, but I don’t want anything between us when we…” I trail off.
His eyes are soft, warm, and alive. “I don’t mind,” he says, softly biting my lower lip. “I’d like that, too. Was kinda hopin' you'd say that.”
I place my head back on his chest. “In the one in a trillion bajillion chance that you knocked me up…?” I ask, just to be sure.
He chuckles and kisses the top of my head.
“Well, I’d sue my doctor for providing incorrect information,” he jokes, “and that can pay for the kid’s education.
” He hugs me closer. “In all seriousness, though...if the impossible happens, and you got pregnant, we’d deal.
Whatever you wanted, we’d make it happen. ”
I nod. “I’ve been told it’s practically impossible, though,” I add.
“Same here.”
I look up at him. “So it really isn’t going to happen, Eli,” I say simply, giving him a searching look.
He meets my gaze evenly. “I meant it when I said I didn’t want that,” he says.
I let out a long sigh of relief. “So did I. I just...I wanted to be sure you agreed.”
He nods, resting his forehead against mine. “You and me...we’ll have a happy life, just the two of us, and leave all our worldly goods to Dean and Leo’s kids. Or charity. Or whatever we decide along the way.”
I snuggle in closer, touched that he’s thinking so far into the future with such certainty. “Sounds perfect.”