“So,” I said as I tried to convince myself that my stomach flipping was just heartburn and had nothing to do with his smile. “If we’re going to convince people we’re together, we should probably…” I bit my lip. This was such a stupid idea. “Practice.”
His eyebrows rose. “Practice?”
“You know.” I arched my back, trying to sound confident. “Get comfortable with each other.”
The understanding in his eyes was replaced by something hungrier.
“That makes sense,” he said, voice dropping lower. “We should definitely practice.”
Suddenly the apartment felt too small, too warm, too full of possibility and terrible decisions.
“Can you check your daily agenda?” I asked, wrapping a hand around his tie. “Figure out when we should start?”
His answer was to close the distance between us and kiss me.
Hannah
Hesteeredustowardshis bedroom, our lips still fused together. My back hit the door as he kicked it closed, his body pinning me there for a breathless moment before we stumbled toward the bed.
I tugged on his waistband, feeling him lengthen against me as I fumbled to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants.
“Hannah,” he gasped as I pressed his pants down over his hips. “What are you doing?”
“I think that’s pretty obvious,” I said, my voice husky. My knees hit the carpet, the rough fiber biting into my skin. I pressed my mouth to the fabric of his boxers, running my lips along the underside of his cock through the thin cotton. I spoke the next words directly to his dick: “I’m thanking you.”
“Thanking me?” he repeated, sounding confused. I tilted my head back to meet his gaze, his cheeks gloriously flushed and his lips parted. My mind flashed with the image of his notebook checklist, someone else’s life planned down to the minute, every detail considered in advance, and I wondered how long it had been since Connor had done something spontaneous.
Or since he’d let somebody do something for him.Tohim.
“Yeah, thank you,” I said, lowering his boxers to reveal his hard cock.
“But why—” he stopped, his breath gasping as I licked the tip, catching a drop of pre-cum on my tongue.
“Stop thinking,” I said between licks, “and just let me do this, okay?”
And within moments, I settled into the weight of him on my tongue, savoring the taste of his arousal. I closed my eyes and let myself move the way I knew how.
This, I was good at. This, I’d never had complaints about. And in every relationship I’d ever been in, I knew how to thank a man, to reward him and incentivize him for good behavior.
I moaned against his cock, drawing his shaft into my mouth, reveling in the hitch of his breath. His hands hovered near my head, fingertips barely grazing my scalp—tentative, uncertain. I could feel his restraint, his thighs tensing under my palms like he was fighting the urge to thrust. Then, with a shuddering exhale, his fingers finally sank into my hair with a groan that reverberated through his body.
I took control of the rhythm, one hand working his base while my tongue explored his crown. His hips jerked, triggering a surge of satisfaction—Connor, always so controlled, finally losing it.
I ran my free hand along his sack, making a path along the seam between his balls and thigh, and he groaned, his breaths shallow, thighs trembling.
And for a moment, I let myself forget all the other criticism in my life and just lean into this: I knew I gave incredible head. I loved the power of the position—I may be the one on my knees, but I was in control. I got to choose the speed and vary the intensity. I got to decide when he came—and from the way his legs shook, I knew he was close—and he’d be damned grateful.
Or so I thought.
Until his palm cupped my face with unexpected gentleness. “Hannah,” he said, voice strained and rough. “Wait. Stop for a second.”
I pulled back, confused, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. He caught my wrist gently—not restraining, just steadying—and helped me to my feet. My knees protested after the hard floor, and his hands came to my elbows, stabilizing me.
His cock was still hard between us—evidence that I hadn’t done anything wrong—so why was he stopping me?
“This isn’t—” He swallowed hard enough that his Adam’s apple bobbed. “I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything.”
But I do owe you,I wanted to say.You saved me tonight.
