Page 33 of Lost Touch
He’d liked it, earlier—God, it felt like years ago, but it’d only been this morning—when I’d been submissive, passive, when I’d been something for him to use. My hands tightened on his legs. I’d liked it, too. Because I couldn’t take pleasure in this, not the way you were supposed to. I couldn’t feel it.
Kind of like a sex toy couldn’t feel it.
That would be okay.
Maybe it made me crazy, but that would bemorethan okay. To know that everything I did, he’d directed me to do, that I didn’t have to take responsibility for doing it wrong.
I’d even admitted it out loud a few minutes ago, when I said I wanted him to use me.
And he hadn’t reacted like someone turned off by the idea. Horrified, maybe. But not turned off. Horrified that it turned himon?
I shuffled forward on my knees and leaned down until his cock was right there, an inch from my face. Drew’s breaths came hoarse and heavy from above me. I set my mouth against the base of his cock, sucking lightly, almost the way he’d put his mouth on my neck but without any teeth, and I flicked my tongue out, teasing at the skin right between his cock and his balls.
Drew let out an agonized-sounding groan, and his free hand landed on the nape of my neck, fingers tunneling up into my hair.
Yes, please, yes, and I moaned as I dragged my tongue up his shaft, savoring the softness of his skin and the furnace heat of the hard flesh beneath.
He guided me up, and up, inch after inch, until my tongue traced the ridge at the base of the glans. And then I opened my mouth as wide as I could and wrapped my lips around him.
“Ash, fucking gods,” he gasped, and thrust up, his cockhead bumping the roof of my mouth.
He felt so big. Thicker than my hand, somehow, even though that couldn’t possibly be true. Hotter and more alive. Maybe because I could control my hand, but I couldn’t control him. And I didn’t want to. I wanted him to thrust harder and deeper.
For that to work, I had to change the angle, so I got a hand around him, tilted him more toward my throat, and shifted my approach.
Andthere. I pushed myself down, and his cock shoved over my tongue and down, into me, stuffed into my throat. I could feel the stretch of it, the pressure and the thickness. For the first time, I didn’t mind that my nerves couldn’t transmit any of the pain or pleasure, or both, that they had to be receiving. If I could feel this properly, then I might have to stop. It might not be possible for me to do it at all. And I wanted to. I wanted to let Drew take what he needed.
Drew’s hand tightened in my hair, the other letting go of his cock to wrap around the back of my neck in its place so that he held me down completely. He didn’t need to guide himself into my mouth anymore. He’d lodged there so firmly he wouldn’t dislodge.
I opened up and slid down as far as I could, my eyes watering, the corners of my lips pulled taut, and hoped he could take a hint.
He moaned and thrust, taking the hint along with another couple of inches of my throat. I closed my eyes and relaxed my muscles, and he gained another inch, maybe. It didn’t matter. He could go as deep as he wanted, as deep as he could possibly fill me. Everything seemed distant, like I’d floated up untethered from the physical world, anchored only by Drew’s cock spearing into me. His hips thrust up and his hands held me in place, and I existed in between, a hot, wet, tight space for him to make his own.
It went on and on, hypnotic: deep, plunging pressure distending my throat, and then a gasp for a breath of air, and then another thrust, until finally Drew’s rhythm faltered and his movements sped up, hands clenching in my hair and around my neck, shoving me down onto his cock. His groans echoed through the hollow emptiness in me where my will used to be, filling me as perfectly as he filled my mouth and throat.
Drew shuddered, thrust even more deeply, and stayed there—and wet heat spurted down my throat, his cock pulsing and stiffening even more.
He held me there while his spasms subsided. My head went light from lack of oxygen, but it didn’t matter; it made me even floatier, drifting off into the sky.
Finally the pressure eased and I could breathe, but everything stayed at a distance.
Movement, my legs lifting off the floor, my head spinning, and then I slowly started to come back to myself. My head on Drew’s shoulder, with my body curled up in his lap and his arms locked around me, all hard muscle and possessive care. His heart beat under my ear, strong and steady, although his breaths were still as ragged as mine.
Drew rested his face against my hair. That had to have been a kiss, didn’t it? That little motion I’d felt? Drew had kissed me, and I smiled into his shoulder. I’d been so light before, and now I’d gotten so heavy I didn’t think I’d ever be able to move again.
It didn’t matter at all. Drew would take care of me, the way I’d taken care of him. The way he’d been taking care of me since the moment I first laid eyes on him.
“Gods, what did I do,” Drew muttered into my hair. “Ash, baby? Look at me, will you?”
Moving my head sounded hard, but Drew wanted me to. And I wanted to look at him; who wouldn’t?
I managed to tip my head back against his shoulder and peek up at his worried face.
“Did that feel good?” It came out slurred, but I knew he’d understand me.
“It shouldn’t have. But it felt—better than anything I’ve ever felt,” he said, reluctantly but in a rush, like the words were being dragged out of him. “It’s wrong, Ash.”
“Did you want that, though? Using my mouth like that?”
