Page 22 of Lorcan's Obsession

Cupping my bouncy mounds, I gave him more praise while I played with myself, molding, kneading, and twisting my nipples. Would I ever pierce them? Would nipple rings or steel barbells work better?

Hold on. Why am I thinking about nipple piercings and group interventions while a guy’s giving me head? Where’s my brain today?

Shit.

This wasn’t working like I’d thought. I raised my head, looking down at the hunk who was too busy eating me down there to notice anything happening above the waist.

"Hey, mmm...hey. Hi. Stop. Please stop?" I added a mini wave to get his attention.

He lifted his head that was buried deep between my thighs while his hands held my legs wide open. His eyes squinted with worry as he looked up at me.

"I'm sorry. It's not working out for me," I continued. "I think I should go."

As his tongue swiped over his lips, I saw the light milky fluid on it. I came. There was evidence. His face was coated in shiny, clear slime, like when you are in the middle of getting a facial at a spa, and you have to wait for the aesthetician to clean you up.

"W-what do you mean i-it's not working out?" Lorcan wiped his face with the back of his hand.

"Well, I’m not sure how I can articulate it."

"Try," he answered curtly.

"I wasn't feeling it. I wasn't feeling you...There'd be no difference if you used something besides your tongue."

His jaw dropped, and his eyes blinked impossibly fast to hide the myriad of emotions threatening to spill over. "O-okay...uhm, can we start again? Tell me what you want, how you want it."

He sounded so crushed that I paused for several seconds longer than I liked. Maybe I should have explained it better.

"N-no. I should leave,” I stuttered. “Thanks for this, it was nice. Thank you."

Jumping off the bed, I collected my dress and threw it on in a maddened rush. My exits were usually quicker and more graceful than this. If I couldn’t find my panties soon, I’d have to leave them behind. Given my arousal earlier, they were probably too wet to wear anyway.

"Tristen, please don't leave. Not like this."

I looked at him, sitting at the edge of the bed, hands rubbing on his thighs, his rock-hard shaft threatening to rip those jeans. But I wasn’t known for handing out participation trophies, and I wouldn’t be changing that today. He should have blown me away, literally.

I leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips.

"I have to go, Lorcan. It was nice knowing you."

8

OPEN SESAME

What. The. Fuck?

I thought it was some kind of joke. It had to be! But the mortification in her eyes as she searched for her panties told me this was morbidly real. She’d stopped me in the middle of giving her a BJ and walked out.

This wasn't a mess up; it was a failure of catastrophic proportions. Someone needed to slap me and wake me up from this nightmare. And Tristen herself gave me that slap—a chaste kiss on my lips and the worst possible line—it was nice knowing you.

Deciding the three-week obsession with her would not end this way, I ran after her. The hot pulsing woody between my legs made for an awkward running style, but I couldn't let her leave, not without talking things through and making it right. Losing her before even having her wasn’t an option.

She was scouring for her purse in the kitchen, rifling through the boxes and bubble wrap left on the counter. Her French-manicured fingers grasped the monogrammed wallet, and she beelined for the main entrance.

“Tristen, don’t leave!”

Goaded, green eyes whipped my way in the briefest of seconds before her hand shot out for the door handle.

"Please." I placed my hand over hers on the handle. "I don't fully understand what happened in the bedroom, but I need a chance to make it right."

---