Page 77 of Chasing Lynda

That’s when his mouth takes complete ownership of me, feasting on me with his tongue, sucking and dragging his lips over me in a way that makes me forget everything except for him and the way he’s making me feel.

The truth is that I can’t even say his name anymore, all I can do is climb higher until the end.

The noises he’s making mix with the desperate moans that I don’t even realize are coming from me. Every lash of his tongue and every time his lips close around my most sensitive spot, feels better than the last until he grazes at me with his teeth. It’s the softest of scrapes but it’s enough to push me over the edge.

I come with a scream, holding onto his short brown hair and digging my nails into his scalp as wave after wave of pleasure wrack my body in the best way possible.

He doesn’t stop kissing me until my moans and gasps turn from ecstatic to pained.

I can feel him smiling more than see him because my eyes are squeezed shut and my head is thrown back, leaning against the wall. “Too much?”

I grunt what I hope is an affirmative sound and he shifts upward, supporting my weight with his hands as he stands up and wraps my legs around his hips.

“I can’t even fucking tell you how much I loved the way you taste, Lynda.”

If the way he kissed and sucked at me hadn’t been enough to tell me that he means it, the heat in his eyes and the hard bulge in his swimming trunks tell me that he isn’t lying.

His lips find mine again and I taste myself on them; it isn’t unpleasant, it’s just different.

“Put me down,” I ask, when we come up for air.

He complies and I’m grateful for his steadying hands on my hips, because my legs right now feel almost like Jell-O.

“Bennett,” I whisper, lost in the pure blue of his eyes. “Now you show me.”

He must be a victim of the same spell I’m under, because it takes him a second to understand what I mean. “Uh?” he asks.

“You wanted me to show you how to make me feel good, now you show me. Please.”

His smile is sexy and I feel his strong, steady heartbeat as I place one of my hands on the smooth skin of his chiseled chest. “You know that I didn’t go down on you because I expected something in return, right GT?”

My hand begins traveling down the ridges and valleys of his sculpted abs and the way his breath hitches in his throat tells me that he wants this but he’s trying to be a gentleman.

“I know. I really want to.”

My hand reaches the waistband of his swimming trunks, and again, I know what I’m about to do just in theory, from what I heard Kelley and his friends say when they talked about their hookups.

Bennett lets me lower his shorts and when his cock springs free, I can’t help it but compare it to the only other one I’ve seen in real life.

I’m grateful that I don’t remember anything about Aaron, that my own mind can’t even try to play self-destructive games with me and substitute the image of the man I’m attracted to with that of my abuser.

Bennett is longer than Dodge but has slightly less girth. His shaft hardens even more when I close my fingers around the base.

He covers my hand with his, like he did before and guides me all the way up his length, squeezing slightly when we get to the velvety soft skin of his tip.

He repeats the movement a couple of times, my eyes flitting between his blue ones and our hands as they stroke him in unison.

We keep working on it, keeping a steady pace and I observe his reactions to see what feels better; his breathing seems to speed up when we get to the tip and I tentatively use the pad of my thumb to rub at the spot under his crown, where he seems to want more pressure.

“Oh, fuck. That’s—that’s good.” He gasps, closing his eyes for a second. “It—It would be easier with some lube, maybe there’s some in the bathroom,” he tells me as we stroke his entire length a couple more times.

“The best blowjobs need to be pretty wet. There’s no such thing as too sloppy, if you ask me.”

I remember Kelley and Bode discussing that one night and I don’t even think, when I sink down onto my knees and lower my head, taking Bennett’s entire length into my mouth; or most of it anyway. I don’t think I can fit him all in my mouth without gagging and embarrassing myself.

“Oh, fuck!” He gasps as he pops out of my mouth and I use my fingers to spread my saliva down his shaft to help me glide up and down his length with easier, more fluid movements.

I keep touching him but I’m a little distracted by a slightly salty taste on my tongue that I think came from him; so I take him into my mouth again, this time letting my tongue brush against his tip to gather more of that flavor.

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