Page 41 of Rook

“Don’t move,” I told him, even if his weight was crushing me, making it hard to pull in a full breath. “Just give it a minute,” I added, even as I suddenly started to notice a lot of things I really had no business noticing when he was incapacitated.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Stop moving,” I demanded when he tried to press up, but his face went so red that I worried he might pass out.

So I did the only thing I could do.

I wrapped my arms and legs around him, holding him against me, so he couldn’t move.

“Just let it pass,” I said, my fingers going to the back of his neck, fingers massaging the tight muscles there.

Finally giving up, he relaxed down on me, his breath warm on my neck, his heartbeat hammering against my breast.

That wasn’t all I felt, either.

Because to hold him in place, I’d needed to spread my legs around his hips, opening me up to him.

And while he was in too much pain to be hard, that didn’t stop my mind from getting all sorts of ideas. Based on memories. Because, well, every night or morning when I needed to creep past him to use the bathroom, I would find him hard, straining against the barely-there material of his sleep pants.

It was embarrassing how much some part of me wanted to go right over there, free him from his pants, and suck him into my mouth.

I actually felt myself getting dripping wet at the idea of going down on him. And that, well, was an entirely new feeling for me.

I guess, in the past, oral sex was an expectation, something that ‘had’ to be done, not necessarily something I ever instigated or wanted.

Because of that revelation—and those new desires—I’d been refusing to let myself relieve the pressure of my desire.

Which meant that I was practically ready to combust with the weight of Rook pressed down on me, the way our bodies were acting out part of the desires I’d been waking up tangled in the sheets after dreaming about.

Rook sucked in a deep breath.

And my damn thighs clamped around him.

My hips may have even… done a small little circling motion.

At least I could comfort myself with the idea that Rook was still likely in too much pain to notice what my traitorous little body was doing.

“Any better?” I asked as my fingers went from rubbing his neck to doing little circles across his scalp. “I’ll take that as a no,” I said when he let out a huff of a breath.

“No, it’s… starting to ease,” he said. But I was a little too distracted by the way his words rumbled in his chest and vibrated into mine to be happy with what he was saying.

Rook took another moment before sliding his arms onto the mattress and starting to press up.

“Fuck.” His face twisted up, but he was too stubborn to move back down.

“Maybe you’d be better on your back.”

“Yeah,” he said, but his eyes were squeezed closed. Sweat was starting to dampen his brow.

“You can’t move?” I asked.

“No.”

“How about I move you?”

The answer to that was a snort.

And, sure, he was bigger than me. But when I hooked him a little tighter and threw my weight, he effortlessly rolled under me and onto his back.

---