Page 102 of Level Up
“You don’t keep your own stash?” I ask with a smirk when he returns to the bed.
“I don’t know if you know this about me, but I’m anintroverted weirdo nerdwith no social life,” he says, and I do laugh at that. “So, no. I don’t.”
I think I might be nervous, but I’m not scared. Because I know that, whatever happens, he’ll be there for me.
Out of curiosity, I lift my head to watch as he tugs off his boxers and rolls on the condom. I will admit that I still just think penises are weird and awkward—though I also think vaginas are weird and awkward, too, especially living with one—but I like that it’s his. I like everything about him.
I drop my head back down to the pillow as he crawls upthe bed again, but instead of getting over me, he stretches out on his back next to me, nearly crowding me against the wall before he pullsmeon top ofhim.
“Oh my god, I’ve never—I don’t even—” I babble, but he holds the back of my head and kisses me sweetly.
“I figure this way you can take the lead, again,” he says, combing his fingers through my hair—though with my nest of curls they get tangled in there pretty quickly.
“But—” My face is like a Flamin’ Hot Dorito. “What am I supposed to?—?”
He pulls me down for another kiss and then speaks quietly in my ear. “Do whatever feels good.”
Holy heck, those words just shoot through me to all the places that have been eagerly awaiting this.
There’s a bit of awkward maneuvering to get my legs on either side of him and settle over his hips—and I bonk my head again when I sit up too fast—but then we’re bothright thereand I’m practically trembling with want.
He has to use a hand to get us lined up correctly, and I hesitate for a second before sinking down onto him. I expected there to be pain, but there’s not, really. There’s a stretch, to be sure, and the unfamiliarity of being so full—I don’t think I’ve ever beenso full—but I rock my hips a little once I’m fully seated and everything inside me gets cranked to eleven.
Holy. Heck.
“You okay?” Damien asks, though his voice comes out strained, and at first I think I’ve done something to hurt him, but then I notice the way his hands are clenched over my hips, like he’s holding himself back.
“More than,” I reply, leaning down far enough to kiss him as I move my hips again. “You?”
“Um.” He swallows. “I promise I’ll get you off after, if I don’t last longenough.”
“You don’t need to worry about that.” I rock again. And again. “I like this anyway.”
“Yeah, but—” He groans when I speed up, and seems to lose focus. “Can I touch you?”
“Yeah, of course.”
I assume he means grabbing my thighs or my boobs again, or something like that, so I’m surprised when his hand snakes down between us and he starts rubbing me right where our bodies meet, despite his arm being awkwardly trapped between us.
Andoh my god.
I wasn’t expecting to come from this, but I think I definitely could?—
Bonk.
“Shit—” His other hand flies up to the back of my head, but I’m laughing enough for him not to be too concerned.
“Maybe this configuration would be better back at my place,” I suggest, and he laughs too, but agrees. “I’m okay if you want to be…on top.”
More awkward maneuvering as we swap positions, and he quietly asks if this is still okay before he slides back in, even smoother than before.
I have never been this wet in my entire life, I think.
When he groans in that way he does when I say something over the phone that turns him on, I realize I’ve said it out loud.Whoops.
His hand finds its place again and soon I’m teetering at the edge once more, though his once-coordinated rhythm is disrupted as he slows his hips, like he’s trying not to finish before I do. Much to my aggravation.
He said I should tell him if I want him to stop?—
