Page 43 of Oblivious Roommate

The full scope of his talent reveals itself to me, and I moan without shame, curling my fingers into his hair. He takes my cock in all the way, and I lift my knees from the pleasure of him swallowing around me. His scent mixes with the smell of rum, and I don’t even mind the stiff old car seats. I could be lying on concrete as long as his tongue keeps doing that little swirl along my shaft.

Sex has never felt this good, nor this natural.

I play with his soft, dark hair, stroke his neck and shoulders, but he doesn’t need any encouragement, playing with my dick with the hunger of someone who’s been starving for weeks. I whimper when his hand plays with my balls, and my hips rise to meet his sweet lips.

His eyes are like made of glass, more beautiful than any other pair I’ve seen, and I love the way he looks at me as he rocks his own groin against the seat.

Is it sucking me off that’s making him this excited? Do I taste better than most guys? Smell better? Or does he just love giving head so much?

Each of those options makes me melt with joy.

But when his cheeks create a vacuum around my dick, I grab his shoulder in panic.

“I’m… I’m gonna…” Nope. My tongue is still drunk. I can only hope he knows what I mean and does what he wants to with that. I’m about to burst, and there’s no stopping it.

He does pull back, but my cockhead remains on the soft cushion of his tongue. He jerks me off staring straight at me, as if he were challenging me to give him as much cum as I can.

My balls tighten, and as my dick throbs, I shiver, watching him drink my spunk.

He grunts. Moans. Rubs his stubbly chin against my inner thigh. But pulls his mouth off before his touch starts feeling painful.

I'm a mess. My bones are rubber, my muscles are jelly. My orgasm was so powerful I could get drunk on it alone, but combined with the alcohol, it makes me feel weightless. I reach for him, pulling him up into my arms as I babble incoherently.

I’m so hot I don’t feel like using a sleeping bag tonight, but I do need Cass, whose lips are warm and damp against my throat. I hear his frantic breath and feel every shiver. When I open my eyes, I see his beautiful cock, so hard and stiff as he strokes it with his face buried in my neck.

I never knew I was so sensitive there, but now my neck is one big erogenous zone. I want to jerk him off myself, but he’s almost done, and I don’t know how to go about it, so I end up sliding my arms under his and holding him close.

I’m so sleepy, but I want to be awake to feel him come, to hear him muffle grunts against my skin. His face twists against my flesh, and he utters a harsh moan as cum shoots out of his cock in several powerful bursts. I can’t feel any of it falling on me, but it stains the front of Cass’s top as he breathes fast, finally going limp.

He’s so sexy, so delicious, just the best. I chuckle when he nips on my neck with his teeth, but no matter how much I fight the swirling in my head, I’m dozing off.

Happy Birthday to me indeed.

Chapter 15

My tongue is dry as wood chips, and my head is still floating when I open one eye. The ceiling of Cassian’s car stares back at me and for a moment I’m not sure where I am and why. The memories start out as a trickle, but quickly become a tidal wave I can’t stop.

What the fuck did we do?

What will it mean?

I don’t wanna be Cassian’s side piece. This wasn’t how I planned things with Cass at all. Not to mention… Does he actually like like me, or was last night some drunk fumble he doesn’t care about?

My brain’s already overheating, and when the door next to me opens, I sit up and the tip of my head collides with the roof. Falling back on my ass, I cool my aching scalp with my hand, but then warm fingers touch my nape, and I am frozen, looking into the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen.

Cassian stands in the open door. Dark water stains mark the front of his T-shirt, and he offers me a smile while I stare at the trees reflected in his gaze.

“Ouch. Sorry I startled you, Mattie.”

“Don’t worry about it!” I say and this time, sit up at a slow pace. I take the opportunity to glance down at my pants, but they’re zipped up. Which one of us made that happen will remain a mystery.

It seems like I got everything I wanted last night, but now I don’t know where to go from here or how to talk to him, when he seems like the coolest, chillest dude in the history of dudeness.

I take a deep breath. We start talking at the same time, but then he lets me speak first. “So, we drank a lot last night.” I laugh, cringing at myself.

His lips crook into a smile, and he rubs his cheek, creating the sexiest noise when stubble scratches his palm. “Yeah,” he says and leans closer until I can smell the faint aroma of rosemary that still clings to his flesh after so many hours.

Is he embarrassed? He doesn’t seem embarrassed.