Tell Me Pretty Lies(45)
Closing my eyes, I will myself to think about anything other than what’s on the screen, but all my stupid brain manages to do is picture Thayer inside me, his lips on my neck and his hands on my hips as I straddle him.
“Turn it off,” Thayer’s angry voice breaks into my fantasy. My eyes snap open to find him watching me with his fists clenched at his side and a noticeable bulge in his jeans.
My cheeks burn and I avert my gaze. Holden chuckles knowingly, exiting out of the app. Stephen King’s It—the new one—replaces the porno. Much better. My heartrate returns to normal after a few minutes, and my eyes start to grow heavy. I inch down enough to lay my head flat on the cushion, keeping my legs curled up tight, away from Thayer, but then I feel his hand on my ankle right before he pulls my legs to rest on top of his lap, one at a time. I’m even more surprised when he doesn’t release me. His right hand stays wrapped around my ankle.
“Thanks,” I mutter, returning my attention to the movie, even though I can’t focus on anything other than the feeling of his warm fingers on my ankle. His thumb glides back and forth, but his eyes are locked on the TV, making me wonder if he’s even aware he’s doing it. When his fingertips ghost over my calves and up to the insides of my thighs and back down again under the blanket, I know it’s intentional. Goosebumps break out over my skin, but I don’t make a move to stop him.
For what seems like forever, his fingers continue their path up and down my legs, inching a little higher with each pass, teasing. When he finally reaches the seam of my shorts, I’m practically shaking with need. My eyes shoot over to make sure Holden isn’t aware of what’s happening right next to him. I can’t see his face, but his hand hangs limply off the side of the sofa, telling me he’s passed out. Thayer’s thumb presses against my clit through the thin fabric of my shorts, and my eyes fall shut at the sensation. He only applies the faintest amount of pressure, rubbing slow circles, and I part my legs, encouraging him to give me more even though I shouldn’t let this happen. I should be stopping this.
Thayer groans, then both of his hands are at my hips, pulling my shorts down. Panicked, I cover his hands with mine, stopping him. I look over at Holden once again, but he’s still in the same position, asleep and oblivious.
“Remember when I said you’d pay for that little show later?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly. “It’s later.”
I gnaw on my lip, nervous, but I slowly release my grip on his hands, unable to resist temptation. My heart slams against my ribs as Thayer slides my shorts down my legs, stuffing them in between the cushions. His warm palm skims up my left leg, pushing my knee up under the blanket, then he repeats the motion with the other one. Reaching over, he drags his thumb against my bottom lip. When my mouth parts, his middle finger dips past my lips.
“Suck,” he instructs. I close my lips around his finger, sucking lightly as he slides it in and out. His eyes blaze as he watches my mouth, then he pulls it out, replacing it with a different finger. “Again.”
I do as he says. Once he’s satisfied, his hand moves under the blanket, finding the heat between my legs. His two middle fingers flatten against me, rubbing up and down before he curls them to push inside me.
“Fuck, that’s tight,” Thayer murmurs.
His words spur me on, but I cast a nervous glance toward Holden’s sleeping form once more.
“Relax. He can’t see anything.”
His words do little to calm me. The blanket covers what we’re doing, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have ears. Luckily, the movie is loud, because I’m way too turned on to stop whatever it is that we’re doing. Holden could wake up at any moment, but I think the added element of fear somehow adds to the intensity.
“Show me those perfect little tits,” he says, curling his fingers, hitting a spot inside me I didn’t know existed. I tense up, arching off the couch with a moan.
“Shayne,” he all but growls. “Lift your shirt.”
I pull the hem of my shirt up, keeping my arms pressed to my sides to push my chest together for his benefit.
“Fuck, that’s good.” Thayer’s eyes darken as he lifts the side of the blanket up and dips his head to see underneath, watching his fingers pump into me. He licks his lips and then he’s disappearing beneath the blanket. Before I know what’s happening, I feel his hot, wet tongue dart out to taste me. I gasp, my hips jerking off the couch. Thayer’s free hand snakes up my stomach and covers my mouth as his tongue continues its ministrations.
I let my thighs fall open, drunk off the feeling. He fucks me with his fingers as he sucks and licks, and it isn’t long before I’m trembling beneath him. I can hear how wet I am with each pump of his hand, and when I start to clench around his fingers, he picks up the pace while simultaneously sucking my clit into his mouth.
I cry out, unable to hold back, and Thayer presses his palm harder against my mouth. I bite down on it, chest heaving, as he brings me back down to Earth with soft strokes with the flat of his tongue.
Holy shit.
My hair clings to my damp forehead, my ears still buzzing. That was hands-down, the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had. I’m still catching my breath when Thayer’s head appears from under the blanket before he crawls on top of me, kissing me hard. I moan into his mouth when his jeans press into my still sensitive center, unable to keep from rubbing against him. Rough hands grip my thighs and then he’s lifting me from the couch.