Page 145 of The Casualty of Us
And that maybe that’s exactly what he needs right now too.
I drop the hoodie off the side of the bed and look back to find his eyes everywhere, trailing from my shoulders to my waist before eventually coming up to where my breasts are wrapped up in a pretty blue bra. One that I may or may not have thought about him while buying over the summer, the delicate lacesomething that I couldn’t say no to and reminding me that they have that in common.
He swallows visibly, body tightening up underneath mine like he’s trying to hold himself in check, and the hand that was just on my face reaches to wrap around my waist. His thumb brushes up over my ribs to the bottom of my bra, and hazel eyes lift to mine with a question in them that has me pressing down against him. Answering it and setting off another wave of tiny shocks that has me reaching for him.
That’s apparently all the encouragement he needs, though.
He brushes his thumb over my nipple, and I gasp as he rises back up to nip at my bottom lip. His gaze nothing but dark mischief when he pulls back just enough to have my lips chasing his and does it again. A breathy sound leaves me, and his eyes drop to my mouth and stay there. The hand on my ass pulling me tighter against him with an answering groan coming from him that has me quickly running my hands over his skin. Loving the way it jumps underneath my fingertips and wanting to feel more of it. More of him.
Wanting to…play. To give.
To make sure he has something to keep his eyes all lit up for a while.
I drop my lips to his neck, kissing my way up to his ear and breathing out a little unevenly, “Can I touch you?”
“Fuck.” He exhales harshly, hands immediately going to my hips and squeezing there. “Anywhere.”
I start to kiss my way back down his neck with every breath bringing me closer to that cedar scent. Quickly finding that it settles something inside of me with its rightness and eases that shred of doubt still floating around in my head. It has me flicking my tongue against the base of his throat before dropping down to kiss the center of his chest. His fingers press into my hips hard before he lets go, and I scoot back, sliding myself down inbetween his legs and pressing a couple of kisses to his stomach while reaching for the top of his sweatpants. His abs jerk under my lips with every brush until they’re solid by the time I press them against the last inch of visible skin there.
I slide my fingers under the edge of the fabric and pause, uncertainty hitting me hard about what comes next. Tugging at some vulnerability that I hate but it still has me glancing up at him. Blue searching out the hazel and to find him staring down at me with his hands clenched in the covers at his sides.
“Will you…” I swallow again, not wanting to be bad—for it to be bad for him—and the fear that it might be pushes me to address just that. “Will you tell me what to do?”
His gaze turns intent, eyes flicking between mine. “You know you don’t have to—”
“I want to.” I brush my lips across the line of his hip and hear him inhale sharply while clarifying, “Please, I just—I don’t want to mess it up.” That vulnerability gives another tug that has me peeking back up through my lashes to admit. “And I want you to like it.”
“Freckles.” The nickname seems to burst from him on another harsh breath, and he lifts a hand to run his thumb across my bottom lip. “At this point, I’m pretty sure there’s nothing you could do to me that I wouldn’t like.” His dimples flash, possession flaring to life in his eyes. “But feel free to try your best to find something if you want, yeah?”
I dip my head to hide the silly grin that wants to spread and bite the tip of his thumb before letting it out with a soft pop. Something in me unfurling with pleasure at the comment and making me brave enough to drop down. Running my teeth across that line of his hip and hearing another harsh breath from him before lifting up to blink down at the obvious bulge in his sweatpants.
Swallowing and trying to make my brain work past the haze of well…Hayes, to figure out the logistics because surely—
Oh, fuck it.
I start to tug his sweatpants down, quickly realizing just why he seemed to slot so easily up against me when I don’t find any type of boxers there. Instead encountering nothing but smooth skin and a sprinkling of black hair before the head of his cock pops out. The tip already leaking and making my heart kick into an even higher gear as I pull the sweatpants down the rest of the way.
“Oh.” The quiet sound slips past my lips as I take him in, my eyes going from the rosy tip all the way down and back up again. And it’s strangely…beautiful, in a way, like marble that looks soft to the touch. Standing at attention with a thick vein going straight up from the bottom to the top and perfectly paired with a body that would make Michelangelo weep. But also…
“That’s going to hurt me so bad.” My voice comes out a little high, almost like I’m pleading for it not to because…nope, there’s no getting around that. “Likeso, so—”
“O.” The amusement in his voice has me glancing up to find him pretty much looking like he’s at war with himself. “That will never happen until you’re ready, okay?” I give him a nod, and his lips lift with a soft reminder. “We’re just playing here.”
“Okay,” I breathe, stomach giving another flip as curiosity pushes me to reach out and run my fingers up over the vein from the base hesitantly. Sucking in a breath when he jerks as I get to the tip and wrapping my hand around him at the movement. Trying really freaking hard to remember anything I ever read about this and finding my brain only half cooperative.
I grip him harder, fingers barely meeting, and stroke my hand down while dropping my lips to his tip. The harsh sound that leaves him and the way his hand goes to where mine is resting on his thigh gives me all the encouragement I need topull him into my mouth. The taste of him surprising me with how it’s similar to how he tastes everywhere else but a little salty too. More….potent maybe, I guess. A hum of appreciation leaves me, though, and I suck him further into my mouth while moving my hand up and down at his base.
“Fuck.” His hand leaves mine with the curse, fingers hitting the back of my head a second later before he stops to choke out, “Can I touch your hair?”
And it kills me a little bit, the request, that he even has the presence of mind to ask it right now much less have that much of his brain left to think about me. It has me pulling up enough to nod while running my tongue over his head. Heart clenching up and that determination growing in me to make this good for him.
His fingers immediately wrap in the back of my hair, hips lifting up even as I drop down again, stroking him and finding a rhythm together. I only make it about halfway down before he hits the back of my throat but quickly realize by the tension still running through his thighs that he’s holding back. It has me trying to go down further the next time only to feel his head hit my throat and gag, pulling back as he gasps out.
“You’re doing so good, baby, okay?” I flick my tongue against his tip, and his fingers tighten in my hair, hips thrusting as he groans. “Just keep breathing and try to swallow, yeah?” Immediately going back down and attempting to do just that, I wait until he hits the back of my throat before swallowing through my next breath and feeling him slip further down. “Fuck—yes, just like that.”
His fingers press my head down for a second before he pulls back and I rise up, letting him take over some of the control. A warmth growing in my chest from the way he sounds like he’s losing it just a bit that has me running my teeth lightly over his tip the next time. Curiosity pushing me to find out his reaction,and when he immediately pushes my head back down with a groan, gasping out on his next breath, “Fucking made for me.”
I realize I love it. The praise. Knowing that what I’m doing is hitting just right for him too. It has me shifting my legs as that same urgency sets in between them, but I just hollow my cheeks out, giving up some of that control while letting him take over. Finding that warmth in my chest growing with every little jerk and sound he lets out, making the choice in this moment to find my happiness in his because…he’s earned it, the trust necessary for such a thing. It’s why I don’t pull back even when his hips start to lift faster and my eyes start to water. I keep making the choice to let him have the control here because I can still feel the care. It’s everywhere somehow.
