But neither of us stopped. If anything, the acknowledgment of how reckless this was seemed to fuel our urgency.
We made it as far as the couch before I was pulling Eddie’s sweater over his head, my mouth finding the sensitive spot where his neck met his shoulder that I’d discovered made him gasp.
“I’ve been thinking about this,” Eddie admitted, his voice rough with want. “About you. About what we did the other night.”
“Yeah?” I asked, my hands mapping the familiar territory of his chest. “What about it?”
“About how I want to try… other things.” His cheeks flushed, but he met my eyes steadily.
“Mmm, like what?”
Eddie’s blush deepened, but his voice was steady when he answered. “I want to taste you.”
Christ. The words alone were enough to make my vision go blurry around the edges, but the way Eddie said them, with such earnest desire, made my cock twitch with interest. “Hell, yes.”
He sank to his knees instantly.
I let my hands wander along the ridges of his ribs, finding the thrum of his pulse beneath soft skin. Part of me expected him to hesitate, but he didn’t. Instead, Eddie’s hands trembled with urgency as he unfastened my belt with the focused energy of a novice volunteer working outside his comfort zone, both eager and awkwardly earnest.
For a split second, I wanted to laugh, not because it was ridiculous, but because it was so goddamn endearing how determined he was to take control of the situation. As if he’d spent the last several days steeling himself for this very moment, rehearsing what to do in the privacy of his room after I’d fallen asleep.
He pushed my waistband down and then paused, glancing up at me with a question in his eyes. It wasn’t the same look I’d caught before, the nervous, uncertain one. This look was pure trust, and the weight of that nearly unmoored me.
“You don’t have to,” I said, voice hoarse enough to betray how much I wanted him to.
His gaze never wavered. “But I want to.”
I lifted my hips and he dragged my pants and underwear down. My naked ass meeting the cold chair had me wince for a moment, but any discomfort was forgotten when I saw how Eddie looked at me. Or, more accurately, at my cock.
There was both awe and a little nervousness there, like I was the answer to a question he’d been afraid to ask himself for years. The feeling I got seeing myself through his eyes—like he’d never wanted anything more—was a hell of a drug. I wanted to say something, felt like I should say something, but all words burned away as he wrapped his hand around me.
He licked his lips, nervous, and then leaned in, approaching me with the tentative devotion of a man memorizing every detail for a future he wasn’t sure he deserved. I resisted the urge to guide him, to take control. Instead, I watched as he experimented: a feather-light kiss, then a surer one; a bold flick of his tongue, a shallow gasp as he discovered how even that made my hips jerk. His cheeks colored with pride at the reaction, and it lit up something bright and reckless in me.
He started slow, almost reverential, and I let every sensation wash through me—his lips, the way he looked up through his lashes, seeking my approval like it mattered more than anything. And Christ, it did. It was inexplicable and enormous, this feeling of being chosen, even for a moment.
Whatever anxiety I had about the consequences of this, about what might happen if we got caught, dissolved into a haze of want and gratitude. There was no pretense here, no royal training, no one to witness except the two of us. Just Eddie and me, in the kind of intimacy that made everything else seem miles away.
He traced his lips along the length, learning, tasting, testing the boundaries of what I liked. He was careful, unpracticed, but not shy. Experimenting. Open about what he didn’t know, but also totally unafraid to find out. He flicked his tongue over the head, chasing a bead of precum, then laughed—actually fucking laughed in delight—when I moaned and nearly bucked off the chair. The sound was infectious.
The surge of anticipation hit me low in the stomach. I bit down a gasp, clamping my hand over the back of his head instead, fingers tightening in the downy softness of his hair.
He hummed a little, the vibration sending a zing through me, and I cursed under my breath. His hands pressed hot on the tops of my thighs, steadying himself as he took more of me into his mouth. Slower than most others I’d had, but more deliberate, savoring every inch. I was half out of my mind, biting my lip, trying not to thrust up and choke him, but Eddie was determined. He set his own pace, sometimes pulling back to inspect me with that curious gaze, like he was conducting an experiment and needed to catalog each of my reactions.
Every time I gasped or twitched, he logged it, adjusted, improved. Like everything he did, even this was a study—hands-on learning, full immersion. I had to laugh, half-crazy with want. “You’re such a fucking overachiever,” I managed, words ragged.
He pulled back and grinned, a little crooked, the tip of his nose red. “Is it working?”
I combed my fingers through his hair, not trusting myself to say anything smart. Instead, I managed to get out a strangled, “Yeah. You could say that.”
He ducked back down, emboldened now. More tongue, less hesitation. He licked a stripe up the length, then wrapped his lips around the head and sucked, hard and fast, like he’d realized somewhere deep down that this was the thing that would undo me. My thighs tensed, and I braced a hand on the edge of the table, the world narrowing to the bright, sweet pressure of Eddie’s mouth and the soft thud of my heart in my ears.
He bobbed his head, steady rhythm, rubbing circles over my hip with his thumbs, until my eyes nearly rolled back and I forgot, for a second, that anything existed except for this quiet, perfect disaster of pleasure.
It took some effort, but he managed to take me further than I would’ve thought possible for someone’s first time—a greedy hunger fueling his efforts, with the occasional gag and watery-eyed drag back for breath. Each attempt left him undeterred, focused, even more resolved to do it right. I’d never felt so fucking honored to have my dick in someone’s mouth.
There was a split second where instinct wanted to take over, where I had to force myself to breathe and keep my hips still because I couldn’t bear the thought of hurting him, even accidentally. Instead, I grabbed at the edge of the table, knuckles whitening, digging in.
“Careful,” I warned, my voice almost too low to hear.
