Page 41 of Saved By Two

“Noah, enough talking already. You know what to do.”

Indeed, I do.

And I want it.

To give this man an earth-shattering blow job while I’m still fully clothed and he’s naked and at my mercy has my dick pulsing in my trousers, begging to be set free.

Slowly I lean forward, his breathing the perfect acoustic to my descent as I softly kiss the tip, a slow lick as I circle his head, lapping up his pre-cum.

I take my time, the tip of my tongue sliding down the underside of his cock, his breathing heavier as I move on to pepper light and gentle kisses up and down his length. I feel the tensing of his thigh muscles, and his erection grows even harder. And then I start licking, his taste so fucking tantalising I can never get enough.

I can feel him throbbing with anticipation, but he’s resolute in his self-control. How he refrains from grabbing my scalp and fucking my throat raw, I have no idea, but it’s all part of the foreplay and one of the many things I love about him.

His dick jumps, leaking even more pre-cum, and I know he’s more than ready as I take him into my mouth. He lets out a deep moan as I slowly work him, taking him to the back of my throat and relaxing just as he likes it.

The sound of his breathing grows heavier as I work him over. Looking up through my lashes, I love how he watches me with his heated gaze.

He arches his bottom up as I cup his balls and slide a finger to his perineum.

Caleb is hung, but I still suck in air, pulling my cheeks against my teeth, creating more of a vacuum suction. His fingers delve into my scalp, gripping my hair, the sting welcome.

This is where I feel him become more unhinged, deep-throating me as he slides his dick past my larynx into my throat.

My eyes begin to water. His finger reaches out and catches a tear with his thumb, and he brings it to his lips, sucks on the pad.

He eases back as I play with his balls, lightly flicking them with my finger. He grunts, and I groan, both emitting sounds of pleasure.

And here it comes, the moment he’s about to let go and fuck my face. I love the power exchange, and he loves this position of power.

Using my mouth for all it’s worth, he gives over to his desires. It’s objectifying, intense—degrading even—and sexy as hell. It’s the thing about being a switch I love the most.

Caleb is hard-wired to be dominating; he rarely relents, and when he does, I know it's only because he’s allowing it, but even then, he still tops from the bottom. Knowing our preferences and talking about them early on helped build the foundations of our sexual relationship.

Caleb comes with a deep groan, emptying himself down my throat as I swallow every drop.

Nothing turns me on more than giving myself over to him, and this man brings my body to life like no other.

It’s as though now that he’s admitted his growing feelings for Jessica, he’s opened Pandora’s box and is ready to come out and play.

I love Caleb, adore him, and worship everything about him, even when he’s an insufferable arsehole. He’s moody and possessive, but I love him all the same.

He never shies away from what he wants—or needs. And he always gets it eventually. It's how he got me.

But there’s something uniquely alluring about Jessica, and now it’s obvious we both feel it—this possessive need to protect her, adore and worship her.

It’s deeper than sexual gratification.

Her bruises have practically faded, and her ribs are still healing, but the scars we can’t see—the ones that affect your mental health—are the hardest to mend.

And although Caleb might not believe you can truly fix people, he does believe with time, we grow around our trauma. I think the internal scars Jessica carries will only make her stronger, and like a phoenix, she’ll rise from the ashes and be reborn.

Trauma changes us, sometimes irrevocably. It can harden us to the world around us, make us cynical, and sometimes we withdraw from the world, become shadows of our former selves.

I had unresolved issues from my childhood, things I’ve only ever told my therapist and Caleb. He helped me more than he knows, and together I believe we can do that for Jessica.

When we lose that innocence, the vulnerable part of us—the inner child, inevitably destroyed, it changes how we see the world. Because healing isn’t linear, it’s complex and multi-dimensional; it’s a work in progress.

ChapterTwenty-Two

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