“I missed you,” I mumble, nose grazing the smooth slope of her neck.
“Baby, how many shots did you drink?”
“Like, seven. I’mreallygood at math.”
“That’s still a lot. Let me get you a glass of water before it really kicks in.”
She tries to get up, but I don’t let her. “It takes more for me to be drunk.”
“Still, you’ll thank me in the morning. Let me go, Lex.”
“Never. I’m never letting you go.”
I must have sounded more serious than I meant to because she frames my face with her hands and gravely promises, “I’m never leaving you, baby. I’m just getting you water and a plate of mac and cheese.”
After a couple of seconds of hesitation, I agree with a nod. She gives me a small kiss and gets up, depriving my lap of her perfect ass.
By the time I’m done eating and drinking what she gives me, we’re minutes away from the new year. Tamika turns the TV on, and everyone gathers around it, excited about what’s about to happen.
When the countdown begins, Andrea looks ecstatic, smiling wider with each number, and I decide this is what I’m celebrating. Her, and this next year we’ll spend together.
Everyone’s still screaming, “Zero!” when she grabs my face and plasters her lips on mine. “Happy New Year, baby!” she excitedly lets out before giving me another intense kiss.
“Happy New Year, freckles.” I hold her against me, ignoring the surrounding excitement. I wish there could be only her and me in this moment, but I understand why she wants to share it with her friends. Still, I suggest, “Should we go into your room to start the year with a bang?”
She snorts, thinking I’m joking, and then realizes how much I mean it. “Lex, no. We’re not having sex with twenty people right here—most of whom we both work with, in case you forgot.”
Right… Well, we’ll head to my place soon, and I’ll let her suck me dry, as she promised. Then I’ll give her something worth celebrating.
With my fingers tightly clutching Lex’s short and dark strands, I endure with delight the ministrations of his gifted mouth, arching and writhing on his bed. He teases and taunts, ever so tender, his tongue giving just enough to keep me on the verge of orgasming but not quite.
“Baby, please,” I whimper, lifting my hips onto his mouth.
He lifts his gorgeous head to stare at me, his gray irises darkened by want and lust. “You had me wait until we were in my bed, Andrea. Now I’m in charge, alright?”
Although he frames it like a question, there’s no doubt that this is an order. All I can do is nod, reduced to compliance by his assertive tone.His small, satisfied smirk echoes in my chest and pussy, and I watch as he returns to eating me out, his deft tongue bringing delight and torture in equal amounts.
I want to plead, to beg, to implore, but he demanded control, so I let him have it. But when he accidentally pushes me too far, not retreating early enough, I finally come apart, trembling and moaning his name. Realizing his mistake, he makes the most of it and accompanies me through my mind-shattering climax.
Because of all the edging, it’s so intense that I see stars, my back arching off the mattress. My insides clench around emptiness, my clit throbs under his merciless tongue, and my hips jolt from ravaging tremors of pleasure.
He’s given me dozens of incredible orgasms by now, but it always feels new. I’m forever surprised by how good it is, as if I keep forgetting and rediscovering it.
When the shivering of my body fades, so do the intense sweeps of his tongue on my overly sensitive clit. He kisses his way up my spent, heaving body, and I can feel the unmistakable smile on his lips every time they graze my skin.
Once he’s over me, his lengthy girth settled against my dripping core, he takes a moment to gaze down at my face, as if trying to absorb every little detail of my overheated features. The hectic beating of my heart has nothing to do with pleasure anymore but everything to do with the surge of emotions his loving gaze triggers.
“Do you have any idea how much I love you?” he utters, face adorably flushed, eyes glimmering with lust. My chest hurts from the immense feelings swelling in my heart.
I nod. “I do because I love you just as much, baby. I can feel it all the time, right here,” I explain, running my fingers over my left ribs. “And sometimes, like now, it’s so intense it hurts.”
His hand comes to cover the space, as if he could help appease what he’s doing to me. “You’re the only person on this entire planet who could ever mean this much to me. Andrea, my feral raccoon, my love, my adorable dork… out of eight billion people, it could only be you.”
I can’t answer or return his incredible words, as if struck by lightning. I’m tongue-tied, rendered speechless by my inability to form proper sentences. What is he doing to me? How does he keep doing that?
Couples that marry within a year of meeting each other have never made sense to me. I always thought those marriages were doomed because how can you, in so little time, know that this is the person you’ll want to spend the rest of your life with?
But here I am, a little over four months into a relationship, ready to do literally anything for a man. If he asks me to get married before thenight ends, I might say yes. Actually, I’d absolutely say yes. When you know, you know, right?
