27 - Wesley #2
He places a sloppy kiss against my thigh, then dives back in, tongue flicking across me at the right time. I cry out his name as the orgasm crests, my body tightening around his fingers in pulsing waves that steal the air from my lungs.
He slows his pace, working me through it, until I’ve experienced every ounce of pleasure. Then, he sits up and slides away from me. The cold air chills me instantly without his body heat against me.
It’s not enough. I need more. I’m entirely too close to begging for it when I realize what he’s doing.
Thank god he’s on the same page. At the edge of the bed, he slowly slides his pants and boxers down while keeping his eyes on me.
His cock springs free, and my pussy clenches with anticipation.
He’s bigger than the toys that I’ve considered good enough for years.
Hell, he’s bigger than the guys before that, too.
Nerves skitter across my skin. He might know exactly what he’s doing, but it’s been so long for me. He plays in sold-out arenas. Women with perfect hair and curated lives probably throw themselves at him every day. And here he is, in my too-small bedroom, wanting me.
His eyes soften as if reading the anxiety on my face. Climbing back onto the bed, he turns onto his side to face me.
“Where’d you go just now?” His fingers trace my arm as if unable to resist having physical contact with me.
“Nowhere.”
“I’m not going to fuck you when you’re lying to me.” He smirks when my cheeks flush. “So, do us both a favor and stop lying because I really, really want to fuck you tonight.”
“I just,” I trail off, the blush on my cheeks turning a darker shade of red. “It’s been a while. And I know it hasn’t been for you. Which is totally fine. But you’re also really big.” I look away. “I’m not sure.”
“Look at me, baby,” He holds my chin between his pointer finger and thumb, raising my face until I’m eye level with him. “If you don’t want to do anything, we don’t have to. There’s no expectation here.”
I cringe, hating everything about that option.
“But, if you’re nervous because you think it won’t be good for me. Or you. Then I need you to trust me. I haven’t wanted anyone like I want you. It’s going to be good for me.”
He raises his eyebrows, flashing his arrogant smile. “And if you’re worried about my size. I’ve already felt how wet you are. You’re going to take me so fucking perfectly.”
My thighs clench together. Nathan might not be the playboy that the tabloids paint him out to be, but he has the dirtiest mouth I’ve ever heard. It is unbelievably hot.
I lean forward, giving him a quick kiss as my answer. “Condom?”
He holds one up in his hand that he must’ve gotten before ever climbing up here to talk me out of my head. “Wishful thinking.”
I laugh, but it’s cut off by a kiss that’s messy and urgent. The kind of heat that doesn’t linger in the head but burns straight through the body. The condom package crinkles as he tears it open, his hands sliding it onto his length. I’m too lost in his mouth on my neck to focus on it.
“Ready?” His breath is hot on my ear.
I nod quickly, my arms sliding around to his back and digging into his skin as he slides into me.
It’s deliciously slow, every inch stretching me and teetering the line of pleasure and pain. Once he’s in, he slides out slowly and thrusts back in all at once.
I cry out as my body adjusts to the size of him.
He freezes. “Shit, are you okay?”
I wrap my legs around him, pulling him closer. “I’m so fucking okay.” My hips move in a silent plea for him to keep going.
His hand loops behind my head, pulling me up until our eyes meet. He moves at a perfect rhythm, controlling the pace until I’m desperate. Our eyes stay on each other in a way that feels too intimate for what we’ve agreed to be.
When he leans in and kisses me, it’s fast and filled with passion. Our mouths move in the same rhythm as our bodies, bringing us to the brink.
The bed rocks beneath us, the room filling with the wrecked sounds we cannot seem to stop making. His voice is in my ear, murmuring about how good I feel and how perfect I am, and that alone is almost enough to send me spiraling out.
When he finally reaches in and brushes circles across my clit, the tension snaps, sharp and overwhelming. I cling to him as my orgasm erupts through my body. He doesn’t slow his pace, thrusting into me steadily while I ride it out.
“God, Wesley. You look so pretty when you come around my cock.” He groans while following right behind me, his cock pulsing inside me as he comes.
“You don’t look half bad either,” I tease, placing a quick kiss against his lips before he buries his face in my hair.
My body feels deliciously wrecked, and my muscles are completely weightless.
He doesn’t move right away, even though he should. I don’t push him off me, even though I should. We’re both breathing hard, our limbs still tangled around each other.
How the fuck did I go four years without that?
Nevermind. I know how.
Sex has never been like that, even when I was regularly having it. If it had been half that good, I would have never sworn it off in the first place.
Finally, he rolls off me, sliding the condom off, tying it, and tossing it into the trash. For a minute, neither of us says anything.
“So that was—” I start.
“Amazing.” He finishes, eyes glinting.
I fail to fight the smile off my face. “Yeah, it really was.”
It was amazing. But as reality sets in and the sated, sex-happy trance wears off, I remember what this is. A sex fling that will be over after my team party in January.
I will not confuse chemistry with commitment.
This is sex. Ground-breaking, earth-shaking, ruin-me-for-anyone-else sex. But it’s still only sex.
My head starts to methodically build back up the boundaries that I’m usually careful to keep between us.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” He asks, there’s something hopeful about his expression that has me shutting down.
He’s probably had arrangements like this on and off for years, mastering the art of sliding from sex to small talk without letting it mean anything.
I’m not sure I can. I don’t know how to go from this to hanging out in my living room without feeling things. Things we’ve both agreed to check at the door.
“You should probably go.” I stand up, sliding on an oversized shirt.
For a second, disappointment flashes across his face, but he masks it quickly. This is why we shouldn’t have done this. It’s already too complicated.
“Yeah,” He pulls on his clothes quickly, but I’m already heading for the hall. “That’s probably for the best.”
“Benefits, right. No strings.” My words are clipped. “We shouldn’t let the line get too blurry.”
“Absolutely.” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
My chest tightens painfully, but I smile through it. I don’t break for things like this. I don’t break at all.
“See you Tuesday for training?” I ask, holding the front door open. I can’t quite meet his gaze.
“Sounds good.” He pauses as if to say something else, but nods his head instead, walking down my steps.
I walk back inside and look around. My apartment has always felt homey. Just me in the warmth and comfort I’ve created. I’ve never minded having this space all to myself.
But as I watch him walk down the sidewalk from the window, the space feels a bit empty.