My hands are clenched, and I force them to relax, rubbing them against my leggings. A glass of wine would be good right now. A thin band of white-hot pain across my inner thigh, even better.
I move over towards him, to touch him, then chicken out at the last moment and take a seat on his bed instead. He slowly sits beside me, hand clenching the edge of the mattress, revealing the tension that perfectly matches to mine.
“You don’t…” His voice chokes on itself and he takes a second to clear it. “Idon’t want us to be enemies.”
Those beautiful deep hazel eyes close for a moment, his forehead crunching together like he’s in pain.
“Every time I hurt you, it hurts me just as badly and I can’t stand to do that any longer. But I’ve done some heinous shit to you, so if you don’t…”
This time, when his voice thickens so he can’t continue, he gives up, opening his eyes to stare blankly at the floor.
“I’m scared,” I say before I know I’m going to say it. “This… us… it scares me.”
Because I can’t give you what you want, is what I don’t say.
I can’t give you the answers you deserve, and I can’t give you the pieces of me I’ve already sold. The pieces that, when you take them away, mean there’s precious little left.
“You know what a wise old man used to say to me whenever I was scared of something?” Seb stretches his pinkie finger out to the side, the nail lightly pressing against my skin. I hook mine over his, like we’re children making a solemn swear.
“What did he say?”
“He said you should probably take a pause and give someone a well-deserved blow job before making a final decision.”
It takes a second for me to untangle the words, then I burst into laughter. “Oh, that’s what a wise old man said, is it?”
Seb raises his other hand, making a cross over his chest. “I swear on my life. That’s it. Word for word.”
“And who are you giving this blow job to?” I hook up my right eyebrow, mouth curving with mischief. “More to the point, can I watch?”
He purses his lips, his oh-so-kissable lips, and tilts his head to the side, eyes dancing. “You’re only allowed to watch if you’re my girlfriend.” When I open my mouth, he holds up a finger. “Those are the rules.”
“Okay,” I say, my skin buzzing with fear and excitement and joy and dread. “Okay, I’ll be your girlfriend. Let’s do this.”
Seb pulls me onto his lap, kissing me softly at first, then with hunger, bruising my lips as he claims me so fully, I feel like I’ve never kissed someone before. His hands move to cup my arse, one stroking softly, one grabbing a handful and squeezing until I yelp into his mouth and even then, he doesn’t let up.
The pain focuses me so intently that none of my worries remain.
Only when he has satisfied some internal desire does he move his hands, tugging up the base of my shirt and palming my breasts with one, the other cupping my lower back in support.
The shirt lifts higher, the fabric bunching up over my collarbone, against my neck. He fixes his lips over my nipple, turning the hard bead into softness, like it’s dissolving in his mouth.
My back arches, my fingers threading into his hair, feeling the soft strands, silky with sweat, stroke against my palm.
He’s still sucking when he cups my hips, moving me. My hands tug free from his hair, dismayed at the loss until they find refuge on the smooth skin of his chest instead, exploring the peaks and troughs of his abdomen as he spreads my legs over his massive right thigh, bending my knees like I’m on a hobby horse.
Seb’s mouth pops off my nipple, him panting as he slides to the edge of the bed, so gravity pulls me along the distended muscle of his quad, as my knees sag towards the floor.
He tugs me back to his chest, the drag creating a delicious friction. The front of my thigh hits against his hardening cock and he keeps me there, using me to stroke himself before sending me sliding along his thigh again, a burst of pleasure exploding between my legs.
Under his control, I find a rhythm. My hands press against his upper thigh at first, keeping me steady like I’m riding horseback. Then one moves, becoming adventurous. Creeping back towards his torso and finding his satin skinned erection along the way.
Seb hisses air in over his teeth as my hand delves under his waistband, gripping him at the base, squeezing gently, enjoying the weight of his dick in my hand. It’s satisfying, even outside my body, my inner walls clench hard as they remember how fantastic it felt within.
I sling my free hand around his neck, bending him down until I can taste his sweet lips again, tugging the bottom one into my mouth to give it a nip.
It’s lusher than mine, especially when it swells in protest at the abrasion. As I rock nearer and farther, my lips are hard and soft on his, my tongue curling out to reach for his when I get pulled too far away.
“The guy you cheated on Joseph with,” Seb whispers as my stomach tries to deal simultaneously with the stiffness of worry and the softness of my increasing arousal. “He’s no longer in the picture?”
