“Am I…?” He tried to speak through the strokes but couldn’t get the words out.
I searched his gaze, finding what he wanted through those hooded eyes. “You’re taking it well. So damn well. Just keep breathing.”
“I want to last, but… you… you’re so…” He closed his eyes, resting his head back on the sheets.
“There you go,” I encouraged. “Breathe.”
“Yara, I…”
I speed up a little, working my hand and hips in tandem. “You’ve got this. You got me.”
“I don’t think I can…”
“You did,” I promised. I felt him reaching his peak. Pre-cum beaded at the swollen head. “You did enough. It’s enough. You’re enough.”
My encouragement and praise broke the last barrier between us. David’s gaze locked on mine as he proved I possessed every part of him.
“Fucking hell,” he groaned out when his hot cum spilled across my hand and his stomach. “Fuck me.”
I nearly come from the sight of him completely open, unbound by any judgment, sense of time, or place. He kept whispering my name, the syllables a prayer on his lips.
“I know,” I said as I leaned forward to kiss his neck. “I know, baby.”
David nearly choked with laughter. His grip around me tightened. I laughed when he flipped us over so that he was on top, far too amused at the red in his cheeks.
“I know how to wipe that little smirk off your face.” He smiled as he threatened me.
“Thought you said we should get me a change of clothes,” I teased.
“No point in doing that yet if I’m just going to take them off of you,” David said as he undid the straps around my waist.
32
At 9 p.m. on a Sunday,David and I found ourselves drunk on chai lattes and in a maze of a home goods store.
“These places always smell like pine needles.” David wrinkled his nose as we turned down yet another aisle of wicker baskets and half-priced ghost mugs. “And cinnamon.”
“Youalways smell like pine needles and cinnamon,” I retorted as I picked up another basket and tossed it into our stacked cart. David had made the mistake of driving me to the side of town where all the families lived and rich people invested. We’d come for Thai food and stayed for hand-dyed rugs.
“Then I don’t know how you stand me,” he lamented.
“I hold my breath in increments.” I went to dump another basket in only for David to catch my wrist. The smile I offered made him laugh.
“You can’t be serious.” He kept hold of my wrist even though I successfully dropped the basket into the cart. His grip was more than welcome. I didn’t know how we’d done it before, not touching. It seemed impossible now.
“I don’t need this much stuff.” David frowned at allthe items in the cart—most of which were hand-picked by yours truly.
“You told me you wanted your apartment to feel more like a home.” I poked out my bottom lip, feigning offense. To be honest, I didn’t care how sanitized David wanted to keep his place; I just liked the excuse of being able to spend more time with him. As the new week quickly approached, so did my responsibilities on the opposite side of campus, and his on the field.
“Yeah, and I bought some stuff that made it feel like that.”
I raised a brow. “A couple of throw blankets and decorative pillows?”
“They’re shaped like leaves.”
I snorted. “Your eye for interior decorating is enviable.”
“You love leaves.”
