I do what he asks, and he tugs my pants off. My underwear goes with them. I don’t know if he’s noticed, though, because he’s busy kissing his way over my lower abdomen, and then he’s biting my hip bone, and then…yeah. He notices. His nose tickles the crease of my thigh as his hand moves under my knee to push my leg to the side, putting me on display for him. His lips kiss the soft skin on my inner thigh. My whole body is taut with anticipation. I feel like I’m actually made of glass because I know when he touches me there, when his mouth makes contact with the hot, pulsing spot between my legs, I will shatter.
“I’m scared to taste you because I know I’m never going to want to stop,” he tells me, and then a grin flashes over his face. “But then again, I’m all about conquering fears.”
His mouth is hot and soft as it covers my pussy, and his tongue lands directly on my clit and I shatter. All my thoughts, my worries, my pain over everything that’s happened shatter. I pull air into my lungs and let it out in a soft, wanton moan. This is everything. His mouth between my legs, his tongue sliding over my slit and circling my clit—forget oxygen, food and water—this is all I need to live. I can no longer feel the sheets lumped up under my lower back. All I can feel is his tongue, because the only part of my body that isn’t filled with a euphoric numbness is my clit. Every nerve ending in my entire body has migrated to that tiny little space, and it’s the most glorious feeling I’ve ever known.
And then I feel his hand move from where it’s holding my thigh open, and he pushes two fingers into me and gives me a firm pump, and I open my eyes. I’m compelled to look at him—to watch what he’s doing to me. I’ve never had that desire before, but I’ve also never been this undone, and the fact that it’s Jude—the perfect boy I never thought I’d see again—using his perfect mouth to make me come feels too unreal, so I need to watch.
His eyes are barely open, hooded with desire and focused downward as he pulls back the slightest bit to watch his fingers move in and out of me. And then our eyes meet, and he presses his mouth to me again and moves his tongue in a slow, flat lick over my clit, and I’m gone. My whole body is being devoured by heat, and everything goes black as my eyes roll back and my back bends and my thighs snap shut like a bear trap, pinning his head as I twist and pant. The orgasm is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. It destroys me.
His tongue and fingers keep moving until my legs finally fall away. He thinks it’s because I’m done climaxing, but I’m not. The crashing waves of euphoria are still going, I just can’t seem to use the muscles in my legs anymore. He pulls back and smiles at me, but I can barely see it because my eyes are fluttering open and closed. He stands up, pulls a condom out of his wallet, then drops his wallet and his pants and underwear. He kicks the discarded garments out of the way and kneels between my legs again as he tears the condom wrapper open and slides it over his long, straight, thick dick.
We’re going to do this. Finally.
20
Jude
I drop forward, my whole body about to pancake hers, but I catch myself with my hands on either side of her head and stop in kind of a push-up position just inches over her beautiful, naked, clearly spent body. That’s too bad, because I’m not done with her. Not by a long shot. As much as I enjoyed eating her out—and I honest to God loved it—it isn’t my endgame. The moment I longed for at seventeen is right here, mine for the taking with no drunken mishaps or rancid food to stop me from taking it—her—this time.
I lower myself a little closer so my lips can make contact with her cheek. “We’re not done making memories, Sunset. Get up.”
“I don’t think I can,” she responds in a weak whisper.
“Wrap your arms and legs around me.”
She wraps her arms around my neck and hooks her ankles behind my back. I start to sit up, moving to cradle the back of her head as I do it. When I’m standing, I move to the wall and press her back against it. Her warm naked body is pressed up against every inch of my torso and my shielded dick is twitching against her, begging for more contact and friction, glorious friction. She won’t get rug burn this way and besides, I love fucking standing up. It gives me all the control, and I need that right now, because if I let her ride me, I would come in a heartbeat.
I move my hands to her sides, just above her perky ass, cupping a cheek in each hand, and I lift her just a bit, just enough, and she puts her hands on my shoulders to hold herself up as I reach down with one hand to position myself. I swear to God my hand is shaking. And then I feel her heat against my tip.
I push up and use my hand on her ass to lower her at the same time. She’s slick and hot and I swear she’s still having an orgasm. Her pussy seems to pull me in. She lets out a little gasping mew when my entire length is inside her, and I let out a breath I think I’ve been holding for a decade. I had plans to take this slow, but my mind and my body aren’t on the same page. My mind wants to savor the slow burn, but my body needs to fuck—hard. And I can control my mind but not my body, not tonight.
I pull out and push into her—hard. I do it again, faster. And again harder, but there’s something unfulfilling. That loss of contact, even though it’s fleeting, as I pull out of her is disappointing. She must feel it too, because her legs tighten around my waist. Her hands bury themselves in my hair. She’s trying to get closer, get me closer. I shift, pushing my hips into her, and start to grind. It’s better and I grunt out the word “perfect” as I roll and push into her, my rhythmstill fast, my motion still hard. She’s still pulsing against my cock, and it’s crazy good. Better than I imagined, better than I’ve ever had, and the realization makes me move harder and faster.
The look on her face is better than any look I’ve ever seen too. I’ve seen a lot of sex faces. I’m a fucking expert in them. The porn star ones with the big O mouth, the sexy kitten ones with the fluttering lashes and the gasping breaths, but Zoey’s expression is better than all of those. Her eyes are glassy and wide, there’s a smear of pink brushed across her porcelain skin and her bottom lip is caught under her top teeth. If you looked up bliss in a picture dictionary, you would see Zoey Quinlin.
I squeeze her ass cheeks in my hands, my fingers digging into the supple skin. I’ll probably leavemarks, and I like that idea. I move a foot back and bend my knees deeper and then grind against her again, twisting my hips a little on the way up. It changes the angle: I’m deeper, and it’s somehow tighter. Pleasure sparks in my balls and ribbons of heat roll up my cock. I grit my teeth. I feel the tremor run through her, starting with a quake of her thighs and a tremble in her spine. Her teeth fall away from that lip they were grasping.
Her fingers twist in my hair, and she tugs, bending my neck back, so her lips can find mine, but I can’t kiss her, I can’t do anything but pant and make some sound I’ve never heard before, like a growl. She bites my bottom lip instead of kissing me as she moves to my neck, kissing and biting; I grind low and hard with that same twist at the end and another tremor grips her, but this time it reaches her pussy. She’s coming again. She moans my name, her mouth against the vein in my neck I know is pulsing with the strain of trying to bite back the explosion building in me. The vibration of the moan against my neck and the rolling pull around my cock make it clear I’m fighting a losing battle, but I manage to grit my teeth and keep going until her tremor turns to a flutter. Then my vision blurs and I turn my head into her neck, let out a roaring groan and crush her into the wall as my flat hand slams the wall above her head and my body quakes with release.
It almost feels like I pass out for a second, like a long blink of a second, but I don’t know. I guess I don’t, because I’m still standing. Well, standing might be an exaggeration. I’m on my feet but I’m leaning on her body, and the wall, and I know full well if I weren’t, I would probably have fallen down.
“Babe?” Her voice is soft and raspy. I wonder if it’s a standard post-orgasm thing. I’m going to have to find out by giving her another one or two sometime soon. When I can feel my limbs again. “You’re heavy, and I can’t take a deep breath.”
Oops. “Sorry.”
My hands move slowly to her waist, and I bend and pull out just as her legs land on the ground. She wobbles a little and laughs self-consciously, which makes me, without thinking about it, smile and cup the side of her face tenderly. “Those legs of yours are giving me the ultimate compliment.”
She laughs again and kind of covers her face with one hand and shoos me with the other. “Bathroom is down that hall on the right if you need to take care of things.”
I look down. Right. I head to the bathroom and dispose of the condom, which takes less than a minute, but when I get back to the room she’s not there. One of the sheets from the pile on the floor is gone too.
“Zoey?” I call. She doesn’t answer, and I feel something tight and cold twist my stomach. Not at all the feeling I want after the best orgasm of my life. “Zoey!”I say it louder this time.
“In here!”
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and run a hand through my hair. Where the hell did I think she was going to go? This is her house. It’s not like she’s going to bolt. I walk down the hall. Her voice came from the other end, the front of the house. I walk into what must be the master. It’s the whole front of the house, with a big bay window overlooking the park. It’s empty except for a white wrought-iron king-size bed frame. It’s intricate and delicate, with rounded edges and the metal curling and swirling in a looping design. It’s completely feminine, which I’m guessing means she picked it out, so I’m kind of surprised he left it. After all, he seems to only want to take what she loves.
She’s standing in front of the curtainless window wrapped in a sheet with wild red sex hair, which is so damn hot my dick tingles again. I try to ignore it, because I can’t see her face, and she might be distraught again. I slowly walk over and kiss one of her exposed shoulders. She keeps her face forward, eyes surveying the empty, dark park below. “He wasn’t kidding when he said he loathed my choice of bed frames. But I see he loved the expensive memory foam mattress. Dick.”
