Page 49 of Praise You

"I'm glad we were able to get away," I say, snuggling up next to Ronan.

"Me too. It really fucking sucks to have to keep this a secret."

"I know." It really does fucking suck. There are so many times when I want to be honest and open about everything, but I don't know how it will affect my job. Or affect Ronan getting his degree. And I can't risk either of those things. "Just a little bit longer, right?"

"Yeah," he sighs, not saying anything else.

Fuck, I really hope he doesn't think this is too much and ends things. It's a lot, I know it is, but we can't risk it. Both of us have a lot to lose if this gets out and is not received well.

Wanting to get my mind off the train of thoughts I'm currently headed, I reach my hand under Ronan's shirt, feeling his skin. "The food won't be done for about an hour."

"Oh yeah? And what should we do in that hour?" he purrs.

"I was thinking you could fuck me."

Ronan bolts upright, sputtering out incoherent sounds. "Oliver, I am not going to fuck you for the first time while rushing and waiting for the food to cook."

"We don't have to rush," I say quickly, sitting up with him.

"We would have to rush and I don't want to do that. I want to take my time with you, but Oliver?" He waits until I make eye contact with him before continuing, "I'm not rushing you, am I?"

Is he serious? Rushing me? Laughing, I shake my head. "We've been together for two months and haven’t fucked yet. I would say that's the opposite of rushing."

"I didn't want to rush you. This is all still new to you."

"It's not anymore." Sliding onto his lap, I straddle his legs, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. "I know who I am and I know what I want. And I want you. I might not have been with a man before, but that doesn't mean I'm unsure or not ready. I'm ready to take that next step with you."

"Okay, but not right now."

Huffing, I shake my head, but relent, knowing he's right. "Fine, but tonight. You're mine. Or I'm yours. Whichever is fine with me. It's time."

"Hell yes," Ronan takes my mouth, his tongue sliding inside. Pulling away, he rests his forehead against mine. "Let's shower now so we can eat and get naked."

Smiling, I stand up, grabbing his hand and lifting him off the couch. "As long as we can shower together."

Chapter Eighteen

Ronan

Eating dinner was torture. The entire time we were eating and making conversation, all I wanted to do was rip off his clothes and take him on the table. By some miracle, I held myself back, making sure he ate enough because once I get my hands on him, I don't know when I'll let up.

Oliver walks into the bedroom, and I pounce on him. Pushing him up against the wall, I crowd in behind him, running my nose along the nape of his neck. My hand rounds his body, popping the button on his jeans and sliding down his zipper with ease. Oliver grinds his beautiful plump ass onto my dick, a hiss leaving my lips from the friction. Shoving down his pants and briefs, I reach around and grab hold of his velvety dick, loving the easy glide from his pre-cum. God, he’s fucking leaking for me.

"Oh hell, I love how you fucking surrender so easily for me. You’re leaking and I’ve barely touched you. I want you to stroke yourself while I get naked. Can you do that?" I whisper, scraping my teeth along his neck. Oliver nods his head wildly, turning around and staring at me with a heated gaze. He licks his lips, drinking me in while his hand begins moving rapidly, his chest rising and falling.

Stepping back, I abandon my clothes slowly, loving when he whines and gets impatient with me. "Hurry, Ronan. Please."

His soft begging is my undoing, and I kick out of my underwear before crooking my finger toward him. "Relax. Come here, Freckles. Suck my dick as good as I know you can."

The words have barely left my lips before Oliver is on his knees before me. Looking up at me with his bright green doe eyes, he flutters his eyelashes while jerking me. "I can be so good for you," he hums, then licks at the tip. I gasp, about to tell him not to stop when he sucks me to the back of his throat.

"Fuck," I murmur, my fingers rubbing against his cheek. "You're fucking amazing at this." And he really is. Oliver works me using both his hands and mouth, taking his time to ravish me and bring me pleasure. My eyes never leave his, and the amount of love I have for this man hits me like a ton of bricks. I love him so damn much, but there's no way in hell I'm telling him while we're fucking. I must have zoned out, because Oliver tilts his head and looks at me. Not wanting to draw attention to my thoughts just yet, I rasp out, "So fucking good for me on your knees, professor." His pupils dilate, his chest rising rapidly, a whimper leaving him. "Do you like that? Like when I call you professor?" He nods his head while still sucking on my dick. I grab hold of the hair on his head and lift his head so his eyes lock on mine. "God, professor, what type of grade do you think you should get? Hmm? An A? An A plus? " I thrust into his mouth, making Oliver gag and tears prick his eyes. Pulling out quickly, I drop to my knees in front of him. "Shit, I'm so sorry."

Oliver cackles, wiping his face. "I swear, one day you'll be able to shove your cock down my throat. But not today." We both laugh as I gather him into my arms, soothing him.

"Come on, let's move to the bed." We both get onto the bed, and I lay on Oliver, my body blanketing him, trapping him on the mattress. “Are you sure you're ready for this?" I ask, rubbing my hand against his gorgeous prickly beard, loving the touch.

"Yes," he says openly and honestly. Looking into his eyes, I see no hesitation and if I'm not mistaken, I can see the same love I have for him shining back at me. A love I wasn’t sure I would ever know.

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