Trapped (Caged #2)(22)

She stroked me a couple more times, further spreading semen around and making me just want to melt into her.

I caught her mouth with mine, kissing her in gratitude.

“Was that all right?” she asked, and I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Are you covered in my jizz?”

She blushed, and I kissed her quickly one more time before running off to the kitchen for a pair of towels, one of which I dampened in the kitchen sink before returning to clean us both off.

“I should probably change my clothes,” Tria giggled.

“Well, you could,” I said. “Or you could wait until I get a chance to pay you back.”

“Oh! Um…no, that’s okay,” Tria stammered. “I mean…maybe another time?”

I tried to hide my disappointment, but I figured we were still taking things one step at a time or whatever. Frankly, after the hand job, I was feeling far too good to be too upset about not getting to touch her back.

“It’s probably about time to head to bed anyway.”

“Laundry tomorrow,” she announced as she got up from the couch.

“Ugh,” I grumbled. “You know how to kill a mood.”

We both changed into sleeping attire and then met in the center of the queen-size bed. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her again.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “Normally I’d be returning the favor about now, but you haven’t said okay to that yet.”

“Um…”

“No rush,” I said. “When you want it, just remember I owe you one.”

More blushing.

She settled against my chest, and I lay my head back against the pillow. She was warm, and I was still reeling from the fact that I didn’t have to jerk myself off that evening. Granted, it couldn’t be the same as being inside of her, but at this point I considered it a giant f*cking leap.

“You never do what I think you are going to do,” Tria remarked quietly.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I was expecting…I don’t know…groping, I guess.”

“Did you want me to grope you?” I asked.

She shook her head.

“No,” she said quietly. “I just…figured you would.”

“Tria.” I moaned dramatically. I reached up and took her chin in my fingers, tilting her head a little to look at me. “You gotta tell me what you want and what you don’t want. If you want to get groped, tell me that because I’m probably happy to oblige. If you don’t want something, you have to tell me that, too.”

She brought her shoulders up in a tight shrug.

“What?” I pressed. “Why don’t you want to talk about this?”

“It’s just…embarrassing.”

“Tria, you just held onto the most intimate part of me while I came all over your pants. Frankly, that shit’s a little embarrassing, too, but it’s all part of the package deal.”

“Package deal?”

“Sex, baby,” I said. “It can get messy, but it’s all worth it. It can be embarrassing, too, but one thing it won’t be is any good if you don’t talk about what you want.”

“I don’t know what I want,” she admitted. “I don’t know what to tell you, and you’re going to…”

She trailed off and didn’t continue until I practically had to beg.

“You’ll be disappointed,” she finally whispered. “Or you’ll really want something I don’t like.”

“Tria!” I said again. “Jesus, girl, this isn’t a one way street, you know. Part of what I like is finding out what you like. I want to see you come all over me and know I made you feel that way. If I’m doing something you don’t like, you won’t come. If you don’t come, it defeats the whole purpose of f*cking.”

“But we haven’t yet,” she reminded me.

As if I had forgotten.

“Well, we made a decent amount of progress tonight,” I replied with a grin.

“Are you going to…to get tired of waiting?” she asked.

“Not if you keep doing that,” I assured her, but she didn’t smile. “Tria, you know I’m perfectly capable of getting myself off if I really need to.”

Her eyes got big.

“You really do that?”

I couldn’t help it. That one caused a big belly laugh.

“About every f*cking time I get in the shower,” I told her.

“You shower twice a day.”

“Sometimes three times.”

Tria pondered for a while, and I stroked my hand up and down her arm. I traced a line over the top of her shoulder, up her neck, and down the edge of her jaw with my index finger.

“Do you ever do that?” I asked.

“Do what?”

“Touch yourself.” She didn’t have to answer. I could tell from her darkened cheeks and the way she refused to look at me.

“Not…often,” she finally admitted.

Damn, if that didn’t make me hard again.

I leaned in and kissed her right below her ear, then moved down to her shoulder, and then back up again. The tips of my fingers grazed over the skin of her arm.

“Do you think about me when you do?”