His hands slide under my thighs, lifting them, exposing me completely. I should feel shame at being spread open like this, but all I feel is desperate want. His thumbs trace small circles on my skin, moving inward, upward, until they’re framing my entrance.
My breath catches. No one has ever touched me there before. The thought should make me tense and pull away. Instead, I relax into his touch, surrendering to the unfamiliar sensation.
Slade’s eyes meet mine, checking for consent. I give a small nod, unable to form words. He lowers his head again, but thistime, his destination is clear. His tongue traces a path from the base of my cock, down over my balls, continuing lower until—
“Oh fuck!” The curse explodes from me as licks across my entrance. The sensation is so new, so intense, that my entire body jerks.
His hands tighten on my thighs, holding me in place as he repeats the movement. His tongue is hot and wet, circling the tight ring of muscle with light pressure. Each pass sends jolts of pleasure radiating through me, building and building until I’m certain I’ll explode without him even touching my cock.
“Slade,” I gasp. “I’m going to—you need to—please let me—”
“Not yet,” he murmurs. “Hold it.”
I don’t know how I can obey, or how I can contain the force building inside me. But I try, focusing on my breathing, on the ceiling, on anything that might help me stave off the approaching orgasm.
A sudden knock on the door shatters the moment.
“Owen? Are you in there?”
Maia.Fucking Maia.
Slade freezes, his tongue still pressed against me. Our eyes lock, panic mingling with frustrated desire.
“Owen? Ava asked me to check on you.” Her voice carries through the door.
I open my mouth to respond, but Slade chooses that moment to resume his attentions, his tongue flattening against my entrance with renewed purpose. A strangled sound escapes me instead of words.
“Owen? Are you okay?”
I swallow, trying to gather enough composure to form a coherent sentence. “I’m fine,” I call out, wincing at how strained my voice sounds. “Just…resting.”
“You don’t sound fine,” she persists. “Can I come in?”
Slade’s eyes glitter with mischief as he continues his relentless assault on my senses.
“No!” I say, then soften my tone. “I mean, I’m not dressed. Just woke up from a nap.”
There’s a pause, and for a second I think she’s left. Then: “Are you sure you’re okay? Ava said you’ve been acting weird all day.”
Slade chooses this moment to do something new with his tongue—pushing it inside me. The invasion is so unexpected that I can’t hold back the moan that tears from my throat.
“Owen? Are you hurt?” Maia’s voice rises with concern.
“I’m…I’m fine. Just—stretched wrong. Muscle cramp.”
“Do you need help?”
“No!” I interrupt, desperation clear in my voice. “I’m totally fine. I’ll…be down soon.”
“If you’re sure…” She sounds unconvinced.
“I’m sure,” I insist. “Please, justgo.”
There’s another pause, then: “Okay, but Ava wants you to join us for dinner if you can.”
“I’ll try,” I promise, willing her to leave.
I hold my breath, listening for her footsteps. After what feels like an eternity, I hear them—receding down the hallway, growing fainter until they disappear altogether.
