He leaned in, scraping his teeth over my neck while he worked my belt loose. "This sexy librarian look of yours murdered me tonight. I couldn't stop thinking about sitting you on my lap and teasing you sick. About dragging you into the bathroom and getting my mouth on you. Just fuckingmurderedme, Tom."
As I pulled his shirt over his head, his elbow shot out and two small crashes sounded behind him. "I'm gonna make you clean that up."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" My belt snapped out of the loops and flew across the room. Another tiny crash. "Seeing me on my hands and knees?"
"I'm not sure." I cupped the thickness behind his jeans. "I'll have to see it to decide."
A snarl rang from his throat and he lashed an arm around my waist as he backed me across the room. The force of my body hitting the wall sent a picture frame sliding to the floor. It seemed to land with a rough thud but that could've been my heart bashing against my ribs. Then Wes slid to the floor.
He rested his hands on my trouser-clad thighs as he ran closed lips over the outline of my shaft. It shouldn't have felt as good as it did, like he was massaging the achiest part of me with nothing more than a pair of firm lips. I shoved my fingers in that gloriously thick blond hair of his, twisting those strands enough to remind him who was in charge here.
And since we'd never agree on matters of control, Wes traded lips for teeth. It wasn't a bite so much as a very intentional scrape of his teeth along my shaft from base to tip and the pressure was unreal. That, and the wool fabric of my trousers plus my boxer briefs beneath combined into a slow rolling wave of sensation. He pulled his teeth over my head, nothing more than a sharp flick, and my whole body shuddered.
Wes beamed up at me with self-satisfied grin.
I raked my nails over his scalp, scratching exactly as hard as he wanted. "Yes, baby, you did good. And you look gorgeous down there. But save those sweet smiles for when you're gagging on my cock and you can't see through your tears, okay?"
He ran his tongue along the seam of his lips, his brows arching up as he flipped open the button at my waist and drew my zipper down. "I hope you'll remember this conversation when I'm plowing you into the mattress and rearranging your organs."
I gestured to where my fly gaped open. "Less talking, more gagging."
Peeling my boxers down, he shot a glance at my sweater. "Get that out of my way."
Only because he curled his palm around my shaft and stroked me like he had a debt to repay did I comply. And only because he was quick to take me into his mouth, not wasting time on teasing kisses or tentative licks did I resist forcing myself into the back of his throat—at first. And it was only the precious sighs and hums he uttered while his eyes watered and saliva streaked down his jaw reminding me to savor every depraved second of this because it wouldn't last. But the way his hips punched the air, grinding into nothing but helpless to stop searching for an outlet for all the need arcing between us had me cupping the back of his neck and whispering, "That's right. That's exactlyright."
In the end, it was the way Wes banded his arm across my backside as if he needed to snuggle while he worked me over with his mouth that did it, that wrested my control and served it to him in hot, urgent pulses.
And once again, his need for snuggles surprised no one. That it stole my release out from underneath me was the surprise, that I needed it as much as he did was the surprise. That I'd ran away from it a few days ago and now Icravedit from a man who'd charmed my friend group and couldn't come out to his parents and wouldn't be around in a few months and I'd fallen for nonetheless.
This surprised everyone.
Wes tended to me, kissing and licking and murmuring sweet words to my body while I fought to drag oxygen into my lungs and, you know, stand. I was a breathless, quivering mess but I reached down, cupping his jaw and thumbing away the shine around his lips, the tears on his lashes. I wanted to try my hand at this affection thing. "You are so beautiful."
He nuzzled his cheek into my palm. "You taste like a memory I'd forgotten."
I ran my other hand down the back of his neck, digging my fingers into the muscles coiled between his shoulders. "What does that mean?"
"It means—it means I just want to pick you up right now and carry you into the bedroom and be extremely rude to you," he said, wincing and groaning in frustration as he struggled to lift his injured arm higher than my mid-thigh. "Fuck,I fucking hate this."
"Don't get too broken up about it. I wasn't letting you pick me up anyway." I drove my thumbs into the soft tissue at the crest of his shoulders as if I could take him apart, knot by knot, and smooth him out again. As if I could make it all better. "Just get up here, all right? I have a date with your dick and I'd like to capitalize on the fact I'm still delirious from that thing you did with your tongue."
Wes pushed to his feet, leaned into me with his chest and shoulders but kept his hands by his side. "I've been thinking about feeling this ass in my hands as I boosted you up and bit your neck all week."
"Then we come up with something new for you to want, something better. Or the same thing with a few differences. We write a new playbook. It doesn't matter what you can't do, Wes. I don't care about that." I flattened one hand over his heart, the other over his zipper. "This is all I need from you."
I couldn't believe the admissions of want and possession I'd made but instead of allowing it to saturate my consciousness, I gave him a thorough squeeze which turned into an uncoordinated dance of us thrusting-jerking-spinning across my small living area, bumping into every piece of furniture in the process, resulting in another terrible crash beside us. When I saw it was one of the lamps I'd found at an estate sale near Holyoke with Shannon, I whimpered into Wes's chest. "We cannot break anything else. I know they're just things but I kind of love thesethings and I've spent years collecting them. That lamp was one of my favorites."
"I'll buy you some new lamps tomorrow, baby," he replied.
"That was aspeciallamp. From a special place. And it took me an entire summer to find that exact one," I replied.
"I don't care how long it takes or what it costs, I'll find you the lamp you want."
I dropped my forehead to his chest again. "I didn't know it until now but that is definitely my kink."
"Bedroom?"
I took his hands in mine. "Bedroom."
