AFTER GIVING HIM a decent one handed massage and enjoying all of his tiny little moans of pleasure, Reese flips on his back and pulls me on top of him. He scoots up so his back is against the headboard and we’re chest to chest. All the tension in his face is gone and the only thing bothering me anymore is my now stiff hand from his drawn out rub down. His hands wrap around my waist, tightening their grip and I feel him, his desire for me growing against my backside.
“Missed your face,” I whisper and see his lip curl up in the corner.
“Just my face?”
“Never.” I move in slowly and capture his mouth with mine, licking along the seam of his lips until he opens up for me, which only takes half a second. I relish his minty flavor and moan into his mouth. His tongue strokes mine in a way that sets my skin on fire, and I’m desperate for him. Tangling my hands in his hair, I pull him closer to me and rub my chest against his. His hands run up my back, tickling along my spine and grazing around toward my front. I’m not sure what he’s better at, touching or kissing. Both send me into a frenzy where I feel like I’m going to combust at any moment. His callused hands expertly squeeze my breasts. “Mmm, right there.” I kiss him along his stubbled jaw and toward his ear. “I need you.”
His mouth runs down my body between my breasts, kissing and licking every inch of me. “Dylan, I want to do something.”
My lips pull at his ear and I release it enough to reply, “Anything.” Because I would do anything with this man. It’s obvious to everyone at this point. I feel his hot breath on my chest and he hesitates, causing me to lean back. He lifts his face up to mine. “Anything,” I repeat.
His Adam’s apple rolls in his neck and his lips part. “I want to make love to you.”
I gasp, completely shocked and unprepared for this request. I was honestly expecting something along the lines of anal play, which I’m totally up for with him, even though I’ve never done it before. The thought of anal sex terrified me once, but this, this request that he’s just thrown out between us? I’m not sure there’s anything more terrifying. But I want to, and I can at least try, right? For him, for Reese Carroll, for the look he’s giving me right now, yes. I can at least try.
My heart constricts so much that I reach up and place my hand on it, making sure it didn’t just beat for the last time. He wants to make love to me. Love. Not fucking. My mind is scrambling for words. He’s studying me, waiting for my response. I know I’ve been silent for at least several minutes and I’m sure it’s killing him inside, but he’s not showing it. His face is soft and pleading, eyes searching mine and conveying that we can do this. That I can do this.
“Okay,” I say finally, and I think we’re both shocked that I actually spoke. “I just need to use the bathroom first.” He grins wide, my favorite lines appearing, and kisses me quickly on the lips as he lifts me off him. Without a glance back, I scurry into the bathroom and close the door behind me.
Shit. I’m about to make love to a man who I’m struggling to not fall in love with? What am I insane? I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror and quickly comb my fingers through my hair. My cheeks are flushed, my nipples are hard, and I’m beyond ready for him between my legs. Everything about me is ready for this right now, everything except for what’s burning inside my chest cavity. I can’t even begin to imagine what making love to him consists of. Fucking him is intense and borderline intimate as it is. And that’s definitely all we’ve done so far. If I didn’t know it before, his request just confirmed it. So what exactly am I in for? Have I ever even made love before? I think long and hard about that as I quickly use the toilet. No, no way. Not with Justin. I’m not even sure he’s capable of making love to anyone. He was always so distant when we were having sex that he barely kept eye contact with me. And making love consists of eye contact I’m sure. I hurriedly wash my hands and try to mentally prepare myself for what’s about to happen as I exit the bathroom and return to his bedroom. I’m halted in my tracks. Oh, God.
I’m stopped in the doorway by the sight of candles lit and covering both nightstands, providing an amber glow throughout the room. Reese is messing with his phone as he places it on the docking station on his dresser when he turns to me, seeing my expression and straightening instantly. “Too much?”
I bite my lip and shake my head. It’s perfect; he’s perfect. “No, I like it.” I settle on the bed, kneeling and resting back on my heels as I watch him continue playing with his phone. He’s looking for a song and I’m almost one hundred percent sure I know what song he’s looking for. Damn it, I need to look up those lyrics. But that’s not what starts playing as he walks over toward me. “Look After You” by The Fray pours through the speakers. I’m familiar with this song and its lyrics, which will surely rip my heart out if he’s not trying to tell me something with this selection. “This isn’t cliché is it? Candles and music?” he asks as he runs his hands through his hair and down his face.
I smile playfully at his nervousness. “No, there’s nothing about you that’s cliché.” This is completely true. I’ve never met a man like him before and I doubt I ever will. Reaching out to him, he slips his hand in mine and allows me to pull him toward me. “Make love to me, handsome.”
I see it, the layer of anxiety drop in front of me as he crawls onto the bed and pushes me onto my back. Settling between my legs, he begins kissing me in the gentlest way possible. There’s tongue, because with him there’s always at least some tongue, but it’s different. I’m used to the rough, quick strokes of his against mine, against my lips, but these strokes are much more unhurried and tender. Groaning softly into his mouth, I’m quickly melting around him and I’m suddenly not sure what kind of Reese kissing I prefer. His hard I want you now kisses are insanely hot, but this, the let me make love to you kisses are radiating through my body, sparking something untouched. He slowly works his way down, kissing every part of me with the same gentle mouth I just personally got very acquainted with. The song begins to play again. He’s put it on repeat? I feel his hot breath between my legs and arch up into him.
“Yes, God, yes.” The first long lick causes me to fist the sheets tightly between my fingers. I pull my bottom lip into my mouth and bite it hard as he works me.
“Look at me,” he pleads and I immediately drop my gaze, meeting his green eyes. He’s watching me, capturing my every response to his movements and I’m not holding anything back. His tongue laps in and out, around and between every fold and dip. He’s even somehow making this more intimate with his unrelenting stare. His strokes are soft but carry the perfect amount of pressure. I don’t want to come yet so I concentrate on the lyrics of the song to give me a distraction. Like that’s possible. The man’s mouth is a machine.
There now, steady love, so few come and don’t go
Will you won’t you, be the one I’ll always know
When I’m losing my control, the city spins around
You’re the only one who knows, you slow it down
Damn these lyrics. I’m not sure about him, but they are definitely pushing every emotional button in my body. He moans against me and my eyes roll back into my head, the sensation moving through me like a current. His lips pull my clit into his mouth and I cry out, unable to hold back any longer. “Reese.” I’m panting and moving my hips against his mouth as I come, long and hard. His tongue laps up every ounce of my arousal, slowly and tentatively, keeping me on the brink of another orgasm. Gradually releasing me, he places sweet kisses on the insides of my thighs as I stare down at him.
“Come up here.”
He crawls up my body and settles between my legs, gazing down at me as he positions himself at my entrance. I feel him right there, and know the slightest movement will plunge him into me. But he doesn’t move. His hands hold my face and I stare up at him, hearing the beginning of the song and smiling.
“I like this song.”
“Me, too,” he whispers, bending and trailing kisses to my ear. With a slow push, he’s in me and I grip his back tightly, gasping and clinging myself to him. “Fuck,” he says into my ear before he leans up and holds himself above me. Keeping my gaze, he begins moving slowly, his hips thrusting gently into mine. I stare at his chest as it tightens with each push, the muscles in his abdomen rippling with his movements. He’s never been this unhurried with me. This is different, way different from what we’ve done before. The intimacy is pouring straight out of him into me and I feel him everywhere. His eyes are soft and warm, penetrating mine and conveying unspoken words that I pray I’m not misreading. I want to tell him so many things in this moment as he lovingly strokes me, in and out, but I don’t. I wrap my legs around him and let myself feel it.
“Tell me you’ve never done this before,” I whisper, seeing his eyes dilate above me. “That you’ve never made love to anyone but me.”
There’s no hesitation in his reply. “Never. It’s only you, Dylan. Just you.” I grab his face and bring his lips to mine. Our moans are silenced by each other’s mouths and the music that is playing all around us. His panting increases and my hands are gripped as he brings them on either side of my face and laces his fingers through them. I love it when he does that to my hands. It’s such a boyfriend move. My breathing quickens as his tongue works against mine. Slow and steady thrusts, I’m pulsing around him and trying not to end this too soon. Making love to this man has gone way above any expectation I could have conjured. He increases his pace, thrusting deeper and harder, and I’m close, so close, but I want him to unravel with me. I need it like a drug.
“Come with me,” I beg and he drops his forehead to mine and grunts loudly. I’m there instantly with the look he gives me and fall out around him, trembling against him and feeling his warmth run through me.
“Dylan,” he whispers my name instead of his usual climatic scream, pumps into me and stills, collapsing down on top of me as I soak him and what we just did in. Our breathing is uneven and loud, his blowing across the skin of my neck and mine pushing out above us. I don’t care that his is making me hot, I don’t care that his hip is digging into mine and causing a shooting pain across my pelvis. I don’t want to move. Ever.
“That was…” I start to say but can’t finish because there are no words.
“Yeah, that was.” He kisses my lips quickly before sliding off the bed and muting the music. “Are you sore?” I flick my eyes up to meet his stare, his serious expression also containing a bit of hesitation.
“No, I’m perfect. That was perfect.” It was beyond perfect. I reach up and stretch above my head, as he crawls back over top of me, settling on his side and pulling me close to him.
“Hi,” I whisper.
“Hi, yourself.” His sweet smile pulls at his lips.
“So, tell me all about how you called Joey after I fell asleep Thursday night and not Friday morning.”
His eyes widen and his grin spreads. “I was wondering how long he’d keep that from you. Did he even make it twenty-four hours?” His hand reaches up and brushes my hair out of my face, tucking it softly behind my ear.
“No way. Once the wine started flowing Friday night, he blabbed everything.” I reach out and run my hand along his jaw. “I like this, a lot. You should go all scruffy more often.”
“So should you.” His hand brushes between my legs and my eyes widen.
“What? Seriously?” I reply through a shocked grin.
“No, I like you like this. I can see every part of you without anything in my way.” I wiggle my brows at him and his infectious laugh pulls me in. “You know how much I hate anything getting in my way when it comes to you.”
“Is that why you steal my panties? To prevent me from putting a barrier in between us?”
He shrugs playfully, his lips curling up into a smile. “You wax it, right?” I nod. “Doesn’t that hurt?”
Yes. “Nah, Will is really gentle.” Oh, I’m devious.
“Excuse me?”
My smile cracks through and his face releases some of its tension, but not much. He’s too easy. “He is. He’s been doing me for years.”
I’m quickly being pressed into the mattress by his tall frame. “I hope you’re fucking joking. I am not okay with a guy waxing you there.” My arms are pinned to my side by his knees and I’m now face-to-face with his erection. Whoa. He’s hard again, already?
“What if I told you he was gay?”
“Doesn’t fucking matter.” He inches forward and brushes the tip against my mouth.
“Oh, please, are you going to discipline me by making me suck you off? That’s hardly a punishment.” I dart my tongue out and lick the tip, seeing him shudder a bit as he stares down at me.
“It will be once I withhold your orgasm, which you know damn well I’m good at doing.” Oh, shit. The memory of my worktop flashes through my mind. That was horrible.
“All right! No, it’s not a guy named Will. It’s a girl named Lacey.”
“Really, Lacey, huh?” I roll my eyes at his sexual tone. Men.
“You’re perverted.”
“I am and so are you. Now, open that pretty mouth of yours and make me come.”
“Say please.” Another quick flick of my tongue pulls a groan out of his throat.
“Fuck that. Not after what you just put me through. Open.” Yum. Hello, dominant Reese. I smile and open my mouth as he inches forward, granting me full access to his member.
“Fuck yes,” he grunts through gritted teeth as he fucks my face. Bringing one hand down, he holds the back of my head and plummets deeply into me, his quick thrusts causing my eyes to water. I glance up and see his other hand gripping the headboard until his knuckles are white. “So fucking good.”
I moan around him, my lips vibrating against his skin as he shifts his knee and pulls my right arm out. “Wrap around me.” I grip the base with my hand and begin sliding up and down his length as he stills, keeping just the tip of him in my mouth. I’m gliding easily, the saliva from my mouth completely drenching him. Working him hard and fast, my tongue flicks against him and my lips tease his head. He pulses inside me and I see the tension in his jaw. I love doing this to him and get just as much pleasure out of it as he does. Dropping his head back, his Adam’s apple slides and his veins protrude in his neck as he moans deeply. His body is vibrating with his sounds, moving against my tongue. I keep my eyes on him, watching his chest heave with each thrust and his stomach clench as I work him. Sucking and teasing him, my hand grips harder and I see his shoulders hunch forward. “I’m close, love. Don’t stop.”
“Do you want to come in my mouth?” I ask, as I lick the tip.
His eyes widen. “Yes, unless I have options?” His voice is strained and I know he’s on the brink.
“You could come on me if you want. I think I’d like that.”
He swallows and quickly backs down my body, angling himself at my breasts. “Here?” he asks and I nod, pumping him hard and seeing his lip pull into his mouth. We both stare at the spectacle of him coming on my breasts, the white warmth rolling between my mounds and a few drops landing close to my neck. “Holy shit. That’s so fucking hot.”
I nod in agreement and stare down at myself, letting go of his cock and seeing him shiver a bit. “You marked me again.” I swirl a bit of it on the softened red mark on my left breast and see him watch me, studying me.
“I think you like it when I mark you.”
I dip my finger into my mouth. “I love it when you mark me.” He climbs off the bed and disappears into the hallway as I gaze down at my sticky mess. It really is hot, seeing what I’ve pulled out of him. Having him label me with it. I wonder if he’s done that before. Nope, stop it, Dylan. He comes back in moments later with a small hand towel and begins wiping me off.
“That was amazing, you know,” he says through a smile.
“I know. I want to mark you now.”
His eyebrow arches as he tosses the towel onto the floor, planting quick kisses to both my nipples. “Do you? With what?” My eyes search around the room and land on a notebook that’s sitting on his dresser with a pen marking a page in it. I quickly hop off and grab it, scurrying back over to the bed and pushing him down onto his back. “Are you going to draw on me?”
“No, not draw. I’m going to write on you, but where?” My eyes rake all over his beautiful body as I suck on the pen cap. “I mean really, your body is almost too pretty for tattoos. Would you ever get one?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m not opposed to it entirely. What are you going to write?”
“Patience, professor.” He muffles his laugh under me as I drop his arm open and begin writing on the inside of his bicep. The ink is dark, a deep blue as I scroll in overly girly handwriting and smile at myself.
“You seem to be enjoying yourself. Why are you putting it there?”
“Because I love your arms and it’s hidden. I like thinking that I’m the only one who knows it’s there. Just for me.”
“You say that like it’s permanent.”
I shrug. “I can rewrite it daily if I have to.” I retrace the letters to darken them and feel his eyes on me. “Do you study everything the way you study me?”
“No. Unfortunately, not everything in my life is as fascinating as you are.”
“I’m a twenty-six-year-old baker who’s lived in South Side her entire life. How is that fascinating?”
“I don’t know, just is. And you study me just as much, so I should ask you the same question.”
I recap my pen. “Well, that answer should be obvious. I’m looking for a new tax guy.” Leaning down, I blow gently across his arm and dry the ink. “There, all done.”
His head raises and he glances at his arm, the words Do I Wanna Know? printed on him in my script. He studies it for a moment, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth and I watch his long lashes flutter before his eyes flick to mine.
“I like your mark.”
“Me, too.” I chuck the pen onto the dresser and settle in next to him, pulling the covers up around us. He wraps his arm around my waist and closes his eyes, his breathing slowing down to a soft rhythm as I observe him. It doesn’t take long before I know he’s sleeping. Chest rising and falling slowly, eyes fluttering as if he’s mid-dream, and lips slightly parted to allow for his breath to escape. I study him for minutes and then minutes become hours. I’m so ridiculously happy in this moment that when I begin to silently cry next to him, I don’t know what to think besides what I’m now willing to admit to myself. I’m crazy in love with this man. I love everything about him. From the tiniest detail like the little lines next to his eyes and the slit that runs down his bottom lip, to the way I can only seem to be able to take a full breath when he’s near me. I love the words he says to me and the look he reserves only for me; even if that look is one that’s a preamble to a Reese style flip out. I love the way I can sense his presence and the way my heart beats in my chest when I finally lock eyes with him. I love him. Just him. And the tears I let myself cry are both of worry that he’s not going to reciprocate these feelings, and because I’m finally willing to let myself feel them. So I’ll let my tears fall, because I’ve been denying my feelings for him since the moment I fell into his lap, and because I’m a silly girl who is going to turn into a brave woman tomorrow and finally tell him how I feel. Fuck being casual. I’m so over that bullshit.