Page 95 of Level Up
“He’s always trying to get me to be more social, and once in a while I let him,” he says. “Though, if you want, you could invite your friends too. Might make it more comfortable for you.”
“Pal and Malcolm in the same room?” I laugh. “That sounds risky.”
“Well, maybe Evan will keep Malcolm on his best behaviour.”
“One can only hope.”
“Do you want to come, though?” he asks more seriously. “Because I’d like you to. But I won’t make you.”
“Well, if anyone could make me come, it’s you,” I say, but I don’t hear how it sounds until the words are out of my mouth. “Oh my god, I didn’t mean?—”
He chuckles and tucks his head at the base of my neck, holding me closer. “I know what you meant.”
“But you probably could, though,” I add without thinking.
He doesn’t say anything for the longest seventeen hours of my life. Or maybe it’s eight seconds. Either way, it’s too long to leave that hanging, so I laugh awkwardly.
“Sorry, that was?—”
“Do you want to find out?” His voice is quieter than it’s been the whole time we’ve been talking here, but I can hear him just fine when he’s this close to my ear.
“Um.” I can’t think when he flattens his hand against my stomach. It’s enough to make my pulse race, and I nod in response.
I expect him to start doing…something. Anything, really. But he’s just running his thumb back and forth over my t-shirt, and I realize he’s waiting for me to tell him what I want.For cripes sake.
With an impatient huff, I tug my t-shirt up to expose my stomach and then push his hand towards the waistband of my sweatpants—because I’m not too classy to have worn sweatpants to dinner with my family. “Yes, I want to find out.”
For a moment, I think he’s going to make me do all the work myself, in which case why is he even here, but then the tips of his fingers slip under the waistband and my breath hitches. Okay. We’re doing this.
Whoa. We are definitely doing this.
My ex was always too aggressive about this. Like he thought it would be done sooner if he just went full tilt right out of the gate, but it was just uncomfortable—and it certainly never worked. Eventually I told him I didn’t need that, and he stopped trying, which was a relief.
Damien is not like that at all. At first, I worry it’s going to be the opposite problem—not enough. But he gradually increases pressure until my back arches involuntarily, and then sticks with it. Firm but not rough. Andholy fuck.
He’s wrapped around my body so completely and I can’t even keep track of everywhere we’re making contact, but I amburning up with it as the familiar tension builds, only this time I’m not in control of it—it’s terrifying not to be in control, but I don’t want him to stop?—
He stops suddenly and I let out a pathetic whimper—I wasso close, dammit—but then he’s dragging a finger lower, and I can feel how wet I am as it slides over me. But he doesn’t go in. I told him during one of our phone conversations that I’ve never really enjoyed having anythinginsideme, and he seems to be respecting that, instead circling around maddeningly.
Ah, fuck it.
I politely make a request for more—i.e. beg desperately—and he rises up to lean over me for a better angle as the exploratory finger slides in. Andholy fuckagain. I’m not even going to pretend to know what the hell he’s actually doing—literal magic?—but it makes the stupidest noises come out of my mouth. I don’t even care.
I turn my head to give him a kiss, or at least the best approximation I can manage at the moment, and by the look on his face you’d think he was as into this as I am. He groans into my mouth when he increases his efforts, casting his spells or whatever, and the indirect pressure of his palm is enough to get me over the edge.
Every muscle in my body tenses at once—my hands, my legs, my throat—and I feel suspended in time before my release jolts me, and I let out a strangled cry that is unlike any sound I’ve ever made in my life. I’m pretty sure I would be mortified about this if I weren’t still being buoyed by the residual ripples of that tidal wave.
His hand makes its way back over my stomach and he kisses the hinge of my jaw gently while I’m still breathing too heavily to do much of anything.
“Holy fuck,” I actually say out loud, and I can feel his breath of laughter against the side of my neck.
“I guess we found out,” he says somewhat mockingly, though his voice is pure affection.
“I guess we did,” I reply, putting my hand over his again. He shifts behind me, and it becomes glaringly obvious that this has had an effect on him as well. “Um. Do you want…?”
He kisses my shoulder through my t-shirt, but I can feel him shake his head. “I just want to stay here like this for a while,” he says, squeezing his arm around me again. “This is nice.”
“Yeah,” I say, letting myself melt against him with a sigh. “It is.”
