Page 74 of The Art of Catching Feelings

She tried to think of how to phrase it in a way that wouldn’t make her sound pathetic, or risk inadvertently insulting him. “I’ve never gotten off that way. It just seems…” She gave an awkward shrug of one shoulder, her hands still in his hair. “Like a lot of trouble for nothing.”

He frowned, and for a minute she thought that was it, she’d killed the vibe, just like she had been afraid of doing. But then he brought her back down on his lap, so she was nestled against him, and she could feel how hard he still was, how he made her core pulse just from that single sensation.

“What do you mean bytrouble?” he asked. “For you, or for me?”

“Both, I guess.”

“Okay,” he said. His hand skimmed down her side, clutching briefly at her thigh, like he wanted to ground them both, before he pressed one finger against where she was most throbbing through her underwear. “Let’s get me out of the way first. It is absolutely no trouble for me. It is the opposite of trouble. Do you want to hear just hownottrouble it is?”

He’d started to rub slow circles over her clit, and she swallowed hard, wanting to sayyesbut unable to get the word past the lump in her throat.

“I’ve literally dreamed about burying my face in you,” he said. “Of my tongue in your pussy, as far as it can go. If you’re worried about your smell, don’t. I love the way you smell. If you’re worried about your taste,pleasedon’t.”

He’d slipped a finger inside her before she even realized he’d moved her underwear aside, and she gasped, sinking down on him for one brief, delicious moment before he left her empty again. He brought his finger to his mouth, sucking on the tip.

“I fucking love the way you taste.”

The rasp in his voice crackled all the way down her spine. She couldn’t help but believe him, when he looked at her like that.

He took her hand, guided it to the hard length of him through his sweatpants. “If you’re worried whether it’ll be good forme,” he said, “I can promise you that it will. I would spend all night down there if you’d let me.”

She pressed the heel of her hand against him, stroking up in one firm motion, and he briefly closed his eyes, his head falling back as he took a shuddering breath. She was able to wrap her fingers around him enough to get a rhythm going of stroking him through the soft fabric, feeling him swell underneath her even when she’d thought he couldn’t possibly get any harder.

Finally he lifted her off him by her hips, depositing her on the couch while he came to kneel in front of her in one fluid motion. “Don’t change the subject,” he said. “Tell me how I can make this good foryou.”

She didn’t even know. That was the problem. She was sure that oral sex could be great—if everyone hated it, you wouldn’t hear about it anymore, right? It would’ve been phased out a long time ago, okay, we tried that, didn’t work, moving on. And when Chris talked about what he wanted to do to her, that felt good by itself. Maybe they could just keep talking, simulate the act without having to worry about the act itself.

But she craved his mouth on her. It wasn’t enough to talk about it, she wanted tofeelit.

“How about this,” he said. “I’m going to touch you, and I’ll ask how I’m doing. Okay? You just tell me how it feels, if you want me to keep going, if you need me to do anything different. Your only goal here is to enjoy it, so don’t feel pressured to come. If you’ve had enough, just tell me, and I’ll stop. There’s lots of other stuff we can do.”

He looked up at her, and she could’ve gotten lost in those eyes. She nodded to let him know she’d heard him, that she agreed, and he hooked his fingers into her underwear, giving them a tug as she lifted off the couch to accommodate him. Even that slide of fabric created a sort of static spark down her legs, and she was trembling when he pulled her closer to him, pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh.

“How’s this?” he murmured against her skin, continuing his openmouthed journey up her thighs, nudging at her center with his nose.

She’d never thought of noses as particularly erotic before, but there was something about Chris’, strong and a little sharp andapplying a teasing amount of pressure against her. She braced her hands on either side of her body, her fingers digging into the couch.

“That’s fine,” she said, her voice choked.

“Fine,” he repeated with a quiet laugh, like he knew what an understatement that was. She felt the warm burst of his breath against her, and couldn’t help but squirm. “Okay. We can do better than fine.”

He touched her with his tongue then, a quick, darting slide, like he was sneaking a taste. Her hips jerked in response, and he slid his hands up to press his thumbs against her hip bones, holding her in place as he went back in. This time his tongue was slow, exploratory, as he licked and sucked.I’ve literally dreamed about burying my face in you.

“Ah,” she hissed as he hit one particular spot, trying to retreat, but she had nowhere to go.

“There?” he said, his tongue pressing against it once again, until she felt heat pool in her belly. “If it feels good, tell me. Don’t hide from it.”

“I—” She clutched at his shoulders, not sure if she was trying to push him away or draw him closer. Her first instinctwasto hide—the better it felt, the more she wanted to escape from it, like she was at the top of a roller coaster and scared of the drop.

But then he gave her clit a hard suck, and she couldn’t help it. She shuddered against him, releasing a low, throaty moan that turned into a whimper when he did it again.

“You like that.”

It wasn’t really a question, but she felt compelled to answer anyway, panting as she looked down at him between her thighs. “Fuck,” she said.“Yes.”

He lifted his head to look at her, his pupils blown out, his lips wet. “Tell me,” he said. “Tell me how it feels.”

“God,” she said, clenching his hair as he continued his agonizing rhythm. “It feels so good. Don’t stop.”

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