He rocked against me again, brushing his lips over mine.
“I want to do very dirty things to you with this mouth.”
His hand slipped between us to palm my cock.
I shuddered and let out a low moan, heat pooling in my gut. “You said no sex,” I choked out when he squeezed my cock.
Taylor trailed a line of kisses up my jaw to my ear, catching the lobe lightly between his teeth. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to blow you, though.”
He pushed up and sat back on his heels, reaching for the button on my pants.
I curled my fingers around his wrist, stilling him. “Taylor.”
“Hmm,” he hummed distractedly, his eyes locked on my cock.
I gripped his wrist tighter, forcing him to look at me. His pupils were dilated, his breathing quick and uneven.
“I want to make sure we’re on the same page here. First, you said no sex—which I’m fine with, by the way—but in the next breath, you’re telling me you want to suck my cock.”
His tongue swiped over his bottom lip, almost like he was imagining what I’d taste like.
“If you don’t want me to, that’s okay,” he said, his voice low and raspy. “But sucking you off is all I’ve been able to think about since you asked me up here.”
We were talking in circles.
Unless …
This man had once given me more orgasms than I could count, but we’d never had penetrative sex.
Oh, you sweet heteronormative summer child.
“Taylor, oral sexissex.”
He looked down, his palms rubbing roughly over his thighs. “No, I know. I just meant, like, no fucking.”
I set my hand on his knee and squeezed. “Noanal, you mean?”
He looked away and nodded, color climbing his neck. “It’s not …”
“Hey, no worries,” I told him, curling my abs to prop myself up on my elbows, nudging him with my knee.
Some of the best sex of my life had been long nights where I was entirely focused on exploring my partner’s body with my hands, lips, and tongue. Several of those nights had been withhim. If that was all Taylor was up for tonight, it was no great hardship.
“I tried it once with this girl I was seeing,” he began, his voice tentative. “Things were …” He blew out a breath, scrubbing his hand over his face. “Suffice it to say, it’s not really my thing.”
The way he wouldn’t meet my eyes told me that whatever had happened had shaken him. This didn’t feel like a “just not my thing” situation. It felt bigger.
“Want to talk about it?”
He was quiet for a long moment, as if deciding whether or not he did, and the longer he stayed silent, the shallower his breath became. When he finally did speak, his voice was pitched low, nearly a whisper.
“Shereallywanted to try, Seb. Kept saying how amazing it would be, how good it would feel for both of us. That it would bring us closer.”
His words were stilted, each one sounding forced.
“We prepped for it, did everything we were supposed to, but when we … whenI…” His throat worked as he swallowed hard. “She screamed, Seb, and not in a good way. I wanted to stop, but she begged me not to. Told me to keep going. I’ve never felt like such a monster.”
I stifled my reaction. I could imagine it. Taylor was a bruiser on the ice, but so gentle off it. I’d watched him slam guys into the boards without hesitation. But in bed, with me, he’d always been careful—except when I’d begged him not to be.
