Page 75 of Peppermint Bark

I tilted her chin to meet my eyes. “If you don’t want to, that’s ok.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s …” she released a frustrated breath.

“Can I help?” I asked. Please, if there is a God, let her say yes.

Her eyes snapped shut. She shook her head at my request.

Still hovering over my hips, she braced one hand next to my hip. Her index and middle fingers slid into her mouth, gliding back and forth. Fuck, her lips looked perfect wrapped around her fingers. I didn’t miss a moment of her bringing those long, wet fingers to her pants and sliding underneath the fabric.

Her breathing changed slowly as her forearm flexed. I released her chin and stroked my cock, watching her hand move between her legs. She tried to hold my gaze, but her eyelids drooped as her panting sped.

“Holy shit,” I whispered, “you’re so fucking hot right now.”

Stroking my cock slowly, I caressed her breast through her sweatshirt. She arched into my palm, and through the fabric, I found her nipple and pinched. Her mouth dropped open as her brows furrowed. She released a frustrated breath, then pulled her hand back out of her pants and brought it towards her mouth.

“Hey,” I whispered. “Let me, please.”

She paused, then lifted her fingers to my face. I leaned forward so she could press them between my lips. I sucked, still caressing and pinching her breasts, her eyes firmly locked on my mouth as I licked between her fingers.

She slid them back out, but her brows furrowed again in concern. As her hand lowered, I suddenly understood her hesitation. Why hadn’t she said something? And why hadn't I figured this out already?

“Wait, hold on, I got this,” I said, lurching out of bed, tripping over the pants around my ankles and falling into the bedframe. I swore at what would be a nasty bruise on my shin before reassuring her I was fine, shaking off my pant leg, and stumbling across the room to my suitcase. I rummaged until I found a small plastic container of lube. “Will this help?”

In the soft glow of the tiny moose lamp, I saw a mix of anxiety and relief on her face. Her cheeks flushed and she nodded slowly.

“You could have told me,” I said as I climbed back into bed.

“I didn’t … I was worried you —”

“If lube is what it takes for you to come, I’ll buy it by the gallon. It’s not a big deal, ok?”

“Ok,” she said in a hushed exhale.

“Next time, can you talk to me?”

“But you were so close …” she glanced at my floundering erection, her face a mask of disappointment and guilt. Like she’d let me down.

“Hey,” I whispered, not sure what to say but knowing I had to say something. “This isn’t one-sided. I’ll take a break if it means you join me. Trust me, seeing you come will help me bounce back.” I gestured below my waist. “I’m recovering already.”

She didn't look convinced. I leaned over to kiss her gently, wanting to reassure her I was still interested. “I still want you to come, if you want to and if you can. But I don't want you to feel pressure.”

"Ok," she said, chewing her lip. "I want to try. Is that ok?"

"Of course it's ok." I held up the lube bottle and flipped open the lid with a satisfying click. “Where do you want it?”

She licked her bottom lip, shifting her hips nervously as she held open her palm. Damn, I wanted to touch her, but I’d gladly take this.

“Tell me when to stop,” I said, tilting the bottle and pouring a generous amount into her hand, not wanting her to feel awkward if she needed a lot.

She waited a few seconds, then said, “Stop.”

I stopped pouring into her hand but didn't stop, instead moving the bottle over my open palm and dripping into my hand. I rubbed my fingers together to warm it up and brought my hand back to my cock.

She watched me stroke with lips parted, her hips shifting slightly as she saw my cock hardening, then met my gaze and slid her hand back beneath her waistband.

Within seconds, her demeanor changed, her pupils dilating as her arm went deeper than before. I jerked myself harder, feeling the slickness of my lubed hand mixing with precum as her head tilted back and eyes dropped closed. She panted as her hips rocked in wilder, less controlled movements.

“Fuck,” she swore, and the curse word almost sent me over the edge. Her lips were open, her hand losing its rhythm. To muffle her cry, I pulled that sweet bottom lip between mine and scraped my teeth in a slight bite. Her moan resonated as her hips jerked, so I palmed her tit and squeezed her nipple again. She whimpered with a final thrust of her hips and a long, aching moan into my mouth.

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