Page 47 of Taste

“You’re going to get the full treatment, baby.”

“Do I want to know what the full treatment entails?”

“Fingers. Tongue. Lube. One finger or two?”

“I’m good with just a bit of stretch.”

“Doesn’t give me much to work with, but I’ll figure you out. Legs up over my shoulders.”

Who would have thought he’d be bossy in bed? Well, I didn’t mind, although my body disagreed, as it went all tense on me, making my hands fist the blankets, but he seemed to understand that I needed him to just keep going. Before I knew it, I was tugging at his hair as he sucked my cock, and I certainly didn’t mind that or the finger he expertly pushed into my entrance, or the small rubs that almost instantly found my prostate. Hopeless moans came out of my mouth, and I was enjoying it, but at the same time, I felt weird. Uncomfortably so, and I didn’t know what to do.

I’d never been vocal in bed, always more comfortable with eliciting moans from my partner as I systematically got them off. That usually did it for me, but having Mark work me over, his wicked tongue now licking my balls, sucking little bruises into the skin between my legs…I wanted more. I wanted him to rim me. I wanted more of him. I’d even cleaned myself in the staff loos, just in case, but nothing made sense right now. I couldn’t even get my thoughts to line up as his mouth wrecked my straining dick in a few perfect sucks.

“Love the taste of you,” he murmured, his voice full of that deep arousal I couldn’t resist. “Look at me. I want you to watch me.”

In that moment, there weren’t enough verbs in the Oxford Dictionary to describe what I wanted him to do to me.

As I watched his tongue lap over my arse, I jerked awkwardly then shamefully. Whatever he said, I probably tasted of lube and me. Yet he didn’t seem to care, his mouth working seamlessly with his fingers, and I was sure there were now two of them gently massaging my insides as his lips and tongue licked and sucked hungrily at my skin.

“You’re perfect. I’m loving this so much,” he said when he briefly came up for air. I wanted to respond, but all that came out of my mouth was a guttural grunt, and it sounded like someone else. Someone who deserved all this.

I did manage to utter, “Fuck,” in desperation when his fingers prodded deep, and he giggled and pulled out, slowly. I rolled my hips, not knowing what to do with myself. I was so out of my depth.

“Patience,” he scolded, and I whined. I actually whined. He didn’t laugh at me this time. He smiled and kissed his way back up to my lips, but there was something building in my chest, and suddenly I couldn’t swallow. He was too heavy against my bones, and I kicked my leg, failing to get any traction apart from shoving a blanket off the edge of the bed.

My breaths were short, and my head full of static—not the good kind. I didn’t understand what was happening, but I needed to get out. I needed space. I needed air, goddamn it. This was all wrong and stupid and fuck…

“Off!” I said, swatting at him and shuffling up the bed. I grabbed a pillow and clung to it, squinching my eyes shut in totally irrational fear. There was the weight of an elephant on my chest, and I couldn’t focus, couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t explain what was going on apart from no.No, no, no!

“Stop!” I wasn’t sure the word came out, as he was cradling my face against his chest, but I still fought him. I fought his arms around me and his breaths in my hair. I fought the reassurances coming out of his mouth, the hushed whispers and the strokes down my back. My senses were shutting down, and I could no longer hear him or see him. Could barely make out sensation of his body against my prickling skin. Everything was just a mess of screaming panic and shivers.

It scared the living daylights out of me. I never did this, and I wasn’t sure I could. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been so goddamned intimate with another human being. Well, I could. It had been Mark, and he was here again, and I couldn’t make sense of a single thing churning around my head.

“It’s all right, darling.” His words barely reached me. “Just calm down. I’m right here.”

I couldn’t calm down. Sobs wracked my body, yet I couldn’t even cry. Couldn’t function. No focus.

“Breathe with me, Finn. Deep breath. On three, you’re going to breathe in. One, two…three.”

I heard the words, but it was like he was talking a language I didn’t understand. His breath fanned my face.

“That’s it. And again. One, two, three…deep breath.”

His eyes came into focus, and then the red, angry marks where my fingernails were digging into his shoulders. I released him, and a ragged breath escaped my lips.

“I…”

“Shh. Don’t speak,” he said calmly. “We’re doing another breath. On three. Ready? One…two…three.”

I did as he said, because I couldn’t do anything else.

“There. Good boy.”

“Sorry,” I wheezed out.

“Don’t be. This was far too fast—my fault. We’re in no way ready for this.”

“No.” I think that only applied to me, but I was too worked up to explain. It was too much. Too many emotions. Too fucking exhausting to deal with the shit that was coming back in my head.

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