Okay. I was now turned on, and his nimble little tongue wasn’t helping, and I would… Fuck.
“Riley.”
“Fairweather,” came out of his mouth. Like this was funny. Well. It was.
“You,” I weirdly barked out as his tongue did things to me. Prodded. Pushed against my hole.
I liked it. Wanted it. “Please.”
Apparently things I said to strangers in my shower.
He wasn’t a stranger, and this wasn’t my shower. I’d only met him forty-eight hours ago, and now here I was on day two of my holiday and Fox Riley, headmaster of somewhere fuck-knew-where, was rimming my arse, and I was bending my knees to give him better access, flexing my back to get my arse flush into his face.
Like a… Like I knew…what I was doing here.
I was having sex. For the second time in…forever.
“Relax,” he said, perhaps a little louder than necessary, but I had my cheek against the tiles, and the water was loud and my breathing strained. Also, I didn’t dare open my eyes. It was easier to just let all this happen. Pretend I wasn’t involved at all.
But I was, and my cock strained as he pushed a finger inside of me. Not even lube, nothing, just his skin against my insides. Perhaps he’d covered himself in spit, what did I know, but I didn’t mind the burn. The stretch. The intrusion. My hand was now giving my cock what it needed, as his finger moved inside of me.
“You rinsed down?” he asked, like his words made sense. They didn’t. Not in my befuddled brain.
“Wanna put you on the bed. Need lube. Fuck, your arse is incredible.”
Apparently I knew how to move. How to lift him up into my arms and kiss his face, and all the water between us. He flicked the tap off, and I hoisted him up. Like this was how we moved. How we functioned. How life would be from now on, where his thighs were in my hands, his cock against my stomach, where my taste was on his lips.
It was a minor miracle that I didn’t slip on the tiles or, God forbid, drop him on my way to the messed-up bed; instead, he let himself down and turned me around, giving me a shove onto the bare mattress.
Me. On all fours. Arse in the air. The fan making my skin prickle as he fiddled around with lube and found a strip of condoms on the floor.
I had no idea how I was holding it together, here on the bed like this. This wasn’t me. This?
His knees behind me, thighs against mine. The sounds of movements I could have described in detail. The rolling of the condom. The gentle slap of latex against skin. The flick of a cap. And here was his hand, smearing smoothness over my skin. A crooked finger inside of me. And another slick of lube. More movement.
“I’m going to fuck you now.” His voice was smooth as velvet. Thick. I couldn’t even explain what it did to me, hearing the words alongside his finger gliding slowly inside of me. “Do you think you can take it? I’m not as good at prepping as you are.”
“All good.” The confidence in my voice was as surprising as the moan that followed. Like I couldn’t bear it, my spine shuddering, my hips feeling weak and my knees threatening to give way. Like I would just fall over. Take him and the bed with me, and we would all end up somewhere in the ocean beneath us.
I had no idea what was going on, so completely engulfed in everything this was. Him. Me. The bloody universe simply existing.
And then he was suddenly right there, the tip of his cock against my hole and the push was everything, and the universe definitely existed and was swirling all around me.
This. This was what sex was. Apparently. What?
“Oh shit, Noah, you’re bloody amazing. You’re just swallowing me up. I don’t even need to push.”
No shit, Fox Riley, because you were bloody good at the prepping thing too, and I was just gently leaning into him and indeed, we were joining, and it was amazing and I loved everything that this was.
I should bottom more. I should be braver. Try getting out more, and I hated that my mother, again, had been right, and I loved that it was him. That he was just someone who…
“Why do you just get me?” I panted out as he bottomed out, his groin right in my arse, and the feeling was amazing. I was so full and so stretched and so blissfully out of it, and I thought I was drooling on the bare mattress below me and we definitely needed the bed fixed.
“Because you’re amazing,” he said back there, giving me a little shove with his hips. And another. Like he was trying to go deeper when he was already fully inside of me.
“I love this. I love having…this.” My words made no sense, but I said them anyway. I wanted to turn around and watch him. See his face. Check that he was as into this as I was, but then his grip on my hips was telling enough, the sharpness of his fingernails digging deep into my skin.
“Please fuck me,” I pleaded. “Please.”
