Page 133 of Tell Me When It's Over

He’s on his hands and knees again, his legs on either side of mine as he sweeps down for a quick kiss on my lips. “I want you to come on my tongue, Lenny. You good with that?”

Am I— Another nod, this one breathless as he kisses me again and lets his lips and tongue and teeth linger for a little while before crawling down my body. His fingers brush up and down the sides of my thighs, slowly spreading my legs until I’m open for him. I want to close them when his intense eyes latch onto the trimmed curls resting right where his fingers begin to play, but he won’t let me.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he coaxes, pressing a kiss at the apex of my thigh. “You’re beautiful, Leighton. Prettiest fucking thing I’ve seen in my whole life.”

The look I give him has him propping up on his forearms to eye me back. I’ve seen the kind of women he’s been pictured with, so the doubt is hard to hide. “I told you I’d never lie, remember? You want to know what makes you better than everybody else? Half the women who are beautiful have the ugliest personalities. They’re selfish and greedy. Not you. You’ve always been better. Selfless. Willing to give anybody anything they wanted even if it breaks a piece of you. You will never compare. And as much as I hate to admit it, Katherine was right about your looks. You’ve got them. Makes me want to deck every guy who’s noticed too.”

My jaw qui

vers because I know he means that. Every word. And it makes me feel more exposed than I already am spread open for him.

“I want…” I reach out and tug on his shirt, giving him a shy look. “Can you take your shirt off?”

He grins and reaches behind him, peeling it off in one swift motion before tossing it over the bed somewhere with my discarded pieces. “Anything else?”

Slowly, I shake my head.

With one more kiss against the inside of my thigh, his mouth slowly trails over to where only his fingers have been before. My mouth parts into a wide O when his fingers part me and his mouth sucks my clit between his lips. The silent noises I make as he works me with his mouth are nothing I can compute. My hands find his hair again, threading into his already messy tresses, as his tongue slides down until it circles my entrance.

Fingertips digging into his scalp as he probes the tight hole, I arch up and cry out his name. It feels so good, so hot, and I’m begging him for more with every rock of my hips upward to meet his face. When his tongue leaves and his lips find my clit again, he sucks it harder, faster, and scrapes his teeth lightly against the bundle of nerves that leaves my legs dropping farther apart to allow his broad shoulders to sink further into me, over me.

The noises he makes has me rolling my eyes into the back of my head, and I don’t mean to push his face closer to where I want him to stay, but I do. It’s the low growl I’m met with when I grind against his mouth that has me gasping for air and trying to get him to start using his tongue in other places again. “Please,” I beg, tugging on his hair, “Please, Ky? I need you there.”

A string of whiney noises escapes me when he peels away and rises on his knees, his mouth and chin damp from my arousal that I’ll definitely be embarrassed about later on. “Why did you stop?”

Lying flat on his back, he pats his chest with a wicked grin on his face. “Come here.” I blink at him in confusion, legs numb and tingly as I get on my knees with hesitation. He says, “I told you I want to do this a couple ways. Straddle me, Len. Ride my face.”

My eyes widen and heart picks up until I’m almost sure I’m at risk at having a heart attack. Can that happen at my age? I’m sure it has before, and that’d be mortifying to have to explain to the paramedics when they arrive. “You want me to…?” Telling him I’ve never done that is pointless because he already knows, so he just nods and beckons me over again, helping me get into the position he wants.

“Hands on the headboard,” he commands, and it makes me want to squeeze my thighs if they weren’t on either side of his head already. “Hold on, okay?” Before I can say anything, his mouth is there again, his fingers pulling me down onto his face.

When I look down, it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. His hair is sticking up in random places from where I’ve run my hands through it, and his forehead is dotted with sweat as he moves his face and guides my hips to ride his mouth. My fingertips dig into the wooden headboard until they hurt as I find the rhythm that makes me feel good, better than good, as one of his fingers joins the assault on my aching center. Sucking my clit hard and fast, a finger enters me slowly, working in and out before a second joins. I bite down on my bottom lip so hard I taste blood as I adjust to the pressure of his digits but ride out the otherwise overwhelming pleasure that he’s giving me.

And when I feel the familiar tightening in my stomach as I clench his fingers, I know what’s coming. He groans when I grip around him and throw my head back as I grind against his face, trying to get the best angle before—

“Oh my God,” I cry, jerking as I orgasm while his tongue and mouth and fingers soak in the juices that I feel between my legs. He rides it out, still holding me, still licking me and murmuring things I don’t understand until I slump over, slide down him, and find his mouth.

I don’t think before I’m kissing him with a fervor, ignoring the saltiness and dampness on his lips as he meets my tongue every single time. From my waist down is numb as he wraps an arm around the small of my back and holds me to him, exploring my mouth like he explored between my legs, and that thought alone makes me hot all over again.

When we break apart, I rest my forehead against him and try catching my breath. His other arm wraps around my upper back, right over my shoulder blades, as his face settles into the crook of my neck. His breath is heavy, hot, and I can feel his bulge twitching against me in the boxer briefs he has on.

He doesn’t ask me for anything else, doesn’t expect anymore. But I want to make him feel good too. I want him to teach me, to tell me how to make him explode like I did for him.

I already have Kyler’s love and trust, but unlike what he previously believed, I am selfish. Because I want everything else too.

Without a word, I sit up and straddle his hips, reaching down and brushing my fingertips along the bulge. His neck strains as his lips part in heady breaths as I begin slowly working him, my hand unsure but trying. “Fuck. That feels good. Yeah, like that,” his murmured words encourage me to reach into the band and wrap my palm around his silky soft shaft, hesitantly jerking him up and then down again until he’s cursing through his guidance.

Repeating the motion when I see the way his lips form a small O, I take in the flush of his cheeks and how the tendons of his neck bulge as he thrusts into my palm. I don’t let myself think about it before squeezing him harder experimentally while my other hand works to try pulling his boxer briefs off. He only pauses a second before helping me, arching up and pulling them down until he’s on full display in front of me.

Kyler is…beautiful. In a manly sort of way, of course. All lean muscles and drool worthy definition any runner would have. His thighs are muscular, parting when I grip him tighter in my hand and begin jerking him off without any restrictions, watching him twitch. His hand covers mine and starts setting a faster pace, jacking him quicker until he’s steel under me and more wetness gathers between my legs as I listen to him pant.

Licking my bottom lip, curiosity takes over about what he tastes like. Will he be salty like me? Bitter? I don’t think before I dip down and cover the mushroom tip of him with my mouth, sucking and licking the salty bead dripping from him until he shouts, “Fucking Christ!” I gag when he drives up, choking me with his hardness as he sinks deeper into my mouth, before stroking my hair and groaning, “Sorry. Wasn’t expecting that. I— Jesus. Fuck. You need to stop. I’m not going to last long.”

Popping him out of my mouth, I kiss the blunt head and watch it twitch again with fascination, before meeting his glazed eyes. “I want to,” I whisper, not emphasizing what exactly before repositioning myself over him so he can feel how wet I am.

His hand comes up and moves hair out of my face, his thumb caressing my bottom lip. “Are you sure? We don’t have to—”

“I want to.” I nod for good measure, pecking a kiss against the pad of his thumb. “I’m sure, Ky. We love each other right?”

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