Page 123 of Withered

He takes down my shorts and underwear at once. The look in his eyes is what I would call…hunger. His green eyes have turned completely dark, and the feeling settles at my core.

He pecks my lip, my jaw, down to my breasts, and my flat stomach. He swirls his tongue near my belly button and places one finger at my opening, playing with the bud there.

“Fuck, you’re soaking wet,” Jake hisses.

His foul mouth is another thing that makes me feel things. Any vulgar word, and I’m dripping at his touch.

As he slides down on the floor, he gestures for me to move. He spreads my legs further, and the anticipation of what he is going to do has me excited and nervous.

A stinging feeling hits me as he slowly flicks his tongue over my clit, and my body arches off the mattress. He licks it all the way through, making me moan. My chest rises heavily, and Jake holds me in place with one hand while his other holds my legs. His tongue expertly explores every part, making me go weak.

My body wriggles, my fists clenching the mattress under me. He stops, and I open my eyes to find an incredibly sexy Jake between my legs.

“Jake,” I call him.

He hums in response, and I reply. “Don’t stop.”

He smirks and disappears between my legs again. My body is again lost in a world full of pleasure; his tongue is an expert, and he kisses and sucks on that bud. He devours every inch of me.

Suddenly a throaty cry escapes my lips, and my body jerks upwards when he plunges his finger inside me. His finger is as quick as his tongue. The movement is not fast, just slow enough to put me on edge. His finger keeps plunging inside, and he adds his tongue too. His finger inches further, filling all of me, and the pleasure is too much for me.

My legs stiffen, and my vision grows cloudy. I screw my eyes shut and fall on the bed, coming against Jake’s tongue.

My back hits the mattress, and my lips part, trying to catch my breath. I think I heard Jake curse, but I don’t know.

When I open my eyes, Jake is sitting on the bed. I stay in place for a few seconds before rising and facing him.

“Good?” He asks, looking at me worriedly.

I hum and nod. “It was amazing.”

It makes sense that most people try to maintain physical relationships. No strings attached—is that what they call it?

“You’re okay, right?” He asks me again.

“I’m fine,” I tell him with a genuine smile.

Jake kisses my forehead and mutters something that I don’t catch. “Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” I say. Just like he came, he goes back, then winks at me through his window.

I pick up my clothes, put them on, and fall asleep with Jake’s jersey in my arms.

Todayisthefirstgame of the season. I get up a little later than usual and check my messages first thing. I click on Jake’s name, which has five messages.

Jake:Morning. Fuck, you are adorable when you’re asleep.

The time is 6:12 a.m.

Jake:Have I ever told you how lucky I am to have this window? I get to see your face every morning when I wake up.

I look out the window, which shows a clear view of his room.

Jake:Jesus, fuck. I wish I could’ve woken up next to you, tangled in that bed.

A jolt of heat spreads through my body at the thought.

Jake:How are you still sleeping today? Am I rubbing off on you?

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