Page 79 of About That Night

I can’t stand the thought of her turning around and doing this with some random guy, who may or may not treat her the way she deserves.

It’s making me angry. I grip the back of her head tighter than I should, frustration building inside me. With each stroke, I’m tighter and together, until it feels like both my balls and my head are going to explode.

“Why not me?” I ask her again. “You want to be in a relationship. Why not with me?”

It’s an insane time to ask her a weighty question like that, but I need to know. I can’t fully enjoy myself thinking she’s just getting her blowjob stripes so she can go and perform the world’s greatest oral on some other asshole.

I want to punch the future guy that Chastity deems worthy of her attention, her body, her love.

It’s impossible to receive her attention without telling her I want more. I don’t want to be practice. I want to be the real deal. I think I always have.

“You said,” she says breathlessly, between inhaling my cock, “you don’t have time.”

If that’s her hangup, I call bullshit.

“I have time for you. I spend all my fucking free time with you.” I ease my grip and tilt her head up so she can see me. “I want to be with you, Chastity. Fully. Completely. With my whole heart.”

She stills. Her jaw goes slack. My dick starts to slip out of her mouth. It would be funny if it wasn’t my whole damn future on the line.

“What?” She looks astonished.

But she’s not telling me to get out of her house so she can go find Mr. Right, so I’m taking that as a positive sign.

When she continues to just stare at me in speechless silence, I shift back. “Get on the bed. I’ve been wanting to get you naked again for two years.”

I help her up and ease her back until the backs of her knees hit the bed. Dragging my finger across her bottom lip, I take in the desire shining in her eyes, the flutter of her pale but full eyelashes, the color in her cheeks. Brushing her hair away from her temple, I lean in and kiss her, slowly, coaxingly. It’s miraculous how much I remember this, the taste of her. Miraculous that I’ve managed to live all these months without it.

My eyes drift shut, my hands disappearing into her hair as I shift in, wanting to be closer. Always closer.

Without hesitation, her arms wrap around to my back, under my arms, and she’s sliding her touch up and down over the bare flesh.

“The video says to change the view. Is that what we’re doing?” she asks breathlessly, her head lolling to the side as I trace a pathway down her neck with my lips.

“Something like that.” I want to touch her, taste her, feel her.

But I need to see her first. I want all of her on display, just for me.

“Lie down,” I urge her, bending into her personal space so she has no choice but to lie back on the bed.

Once she’s settled back, legs still dangling over the side of the mattress toward the floor, it’s my turn on my knees. I go between her knees and tug her sweatpants down. She starts to sit up but I shake my head.

“No. Stay still. Just for a minute. I just want to look at you.” Sliding my thumbs down either side of her slit, she jolts from my touch, but I hold her firmly by the thighs. “Look at how wet you are.”

She is, and it makes my throat go dry. She got this wet just from taking my cock into her mouth. Nothing is hotter than that.

“Hank,” she breathes. “What are you doing? What are we doing?”

That’s my cue to distract her. I don’t want her to have too much time to think about what we’re doing. I just want her to feel. “It’s like the zipline, babe. Just let go.”

I flick my tongue over her clit. She almost levitates off of the bed. This is what I remember. How sensitive she is to my touch. I ease my tongue into her pussy and thrust gently in and out. She’s moaning and squirming already, trying to reach for me.

Pulling back, I enjoy the sound of her disappointed cry. If she only knew what that does to me, knowing how much she wants me. I stand up, take in all her delicious curves, all her creamy bare flesh.

“You’re beautiful, inside and out,” I tell her.

She blushes just a little, but she does say, “Thank you. You’re pretty awesome yourself.”

“Now spread your legs,” I say. It comes out rougher than I intend, but she seems to like it.

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