That did something to me.
I sucked harder, then dragged my tongue up the seam and took his cock again, messy now, spit slicking my lips and chin. My own cock pressed hard against my stomach, neglected andleaking, but I didn’t touch myself. I wanted to do this. Wanted to feel him lose some of that iron restraint because of my mouth and hands and choice.
He tugged my hair once. “Stop.”
I pulled off, breathing hard. “Color?”
“Green,” he said, voice rough. “But I’m close.”
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “I want you inside me.”
Everything in the room narrowed.
Declan crouched and put both hands on my face. “Say that again when you’re not trying to make me come down your throat.”
“I want you inside me,” I said, slower. Clearer. “I’ve been thinking about it since this morning. I want it. I’m green.”
His thumb moved along my cheekbone. “We do this carefully.”
“I know.”
“If it hurts wrong, we stop.”
“I know.”
“Protection.”
That word cut through the heat, necessary and solid.
“Yeah,” I said. “Condom. Lube. I’m clean, but, yeah. Not like this. Not yet.”
His eyes held mine for a second longer. “I’m clean too. Last test was after Olivia and I stopped having sex regularly. Nothing since.”
The honesty hit awkwardly, painfully, but I appreciated it. “Same. Before Vanessa and I got lazy about being together in general.”
His mouth tightened, not jealousy this time. Reality.
Then he kissed me, and it softened the edges without erasing them.
On the bed, he took his time even though both of us were shaking with wanting. He kissed down my body, opening me with hands and mouth and patience that made my skin feel too tight. When he spread my thighs and put his mouth on me there, I nearly came off the mattress.
The first touch of his tongue was shockingly intimate. Hot, wet pressure circling me, then pressing firmer until my hands grabbed the sheets. I cursed, embarrassed by how much I liked it, then stopped being embarrassed because Declan made a sound against me like he liked it too. He licked me slow, then deeper, his beard rough against sensitive skin, his hands holding my hips open when my body tried to close from instinct.
“Breathe,” he said, mouth wet against me.
“I am.”
“Barely.”
“Because your tongue is in my ass, Coach.”
He bit my thigh, not hard, and I laughed once before it turned into a groan.
By the time he reached for lube, I was shaking in a different way. Loose and tense at once. Empty, which was a new kind of unbearable.
His first finger slid in slowly. My body clenched around it.
“Don’t fight it.”
