Chapter 23

Elle

“Can I help you with that?”

I’ve roused myself from my post-orgasmic stupor. I’ve been lying in a blissful daze beside Sawyer, not moving, not thinking, but a moment ago my blurred brain registered the slow crawl of his hand back and forth over the bulge in his jeans.

“You must be dying,” I say, reaching for the button of his fly.

“Nah,” he says gallantly.

“Seriously, Sawyer, I am all for everyone getting off, you know?”

“I won’t fight you,” he says, releasing a frustrated exhalation, and making me laugh.

He helps me with the button and zipper of his jeans—no mean feat with his erection fighting back at us. I finally free him from his jeans and briefs and hold him in my hand, hot, hard, and incredibly satisfying. When we fucked in the alley outside the bar, I didn’t get to see him or touch him with my hand, so this feels all new. I love the velvet softness of the skin, taut and smooth over the swollen head. Penises are the best, and this is quite possibly the best of all penises.

“Why thank you,” Sawyer says, the first hint that I’ve spoken aloud. That happens to me from time to time; I think something is in my head and it turns out I’ve said it aloud. Usually it’s not quite as dirty as this, though.

“I don’t have a huge basis for comparison,” I say, sliding down the bed so I can lick a teardrop of pre-cum off him. And then I pop the whole head into my mouth, because, hey, I’m here, and, best of all penises.

He groans his approval and I feel the throb of blood under my tongue, which only eggs me on. I pull back and start again so I can lick him thoroughly and systematically, and so I can tease him, first the slit, then circles around it, then the whole head, then, pop, in my mouth again, sliding him against the softness of my cheek. I work my mouth down him bit by bit, licking him, licking my lips, getting us both wet and lubed up, making room for him deeper and deeper until I feel him against the back of my throat and hum in welcome.

“Jesus, Elle,” he says. “You look like such a little blond angel and you are so unbelievably badass.”

It’s funny, though (I think, not pausing in lavishing affection on the best of all penises), but I’m not. I never have been, anyway. Sawyer has brought out a side of me I didn’t know I had. Or maybe I suspected, briefly, at the beginning of things with Trevor, but then Trevor made it clear in a variety of kind, subtle ways that he wasn’t much for my dirty streak, so it went underground, and I didn’t think I missed it. I didn’t think it mattered.

My natural naughtiness is incredibly happy to be on display again.

I bob my head up and down, angling myself so I can take more of him, letting him thrust a little against my throat before I nudge his hips to let him know how much I can take—and he’s good; he backs off right away, so we get into this rhythm of him pushing and me pushing back. He’s talking now, quietly, telling me how good it feels, how good I am, how hot I am, and he reaches down to find both my nipples and tweaks them gently, which somehow makes me able to take more.

“Elle, if you don’t want me to come in your mouth—” he says, but I shake my head and tug his hips toward me and circle him, hard, fierce, with my tongue, drawing a pattern like an infinity symbol up the shaft and around the velvet curve of the head, and he trembles all over with the effort of holding himself back and comes, shaking, rigid, murmuring my name.

“Wow,” he says. “Wow. Wow.”

I giggle.

I slide my hand down between my legs and touch the wetness there. There’s a lot more than before. He watches me do it. “You like that,” he says wonderingly.

“Yeah,” I say.

I realize what he’s not saying. Lucy didn’t used to.

Well.

I won’t let myself think anything other than, Interesting.