The Ex Talk(69)

He gives me this smirk as he lowers his head again. It’s only when I’m desperate for release that he flattens his tongue against my clit, settling into a rhythm that makes my head spin.

I grab at anything I can wrap a fist around—his hair, the sheets, the top of his ear. He doesn’t let up, single-minded in his mission. I’m dizzy and lost and oh and yes and then I’m coming hard against his tongue, not caring how I sound or if anyone in the neighboring apartments can hear.

“That,” I say when I can make words again, “was really fucking amazing.”

His mouth is glistening and he’s grinning like he’s given me the best gift I’ve ever received. I’m greedy for more, pointing helplessly at the condoms on his dresser. He sheaths himself quickly, then leans over me and positions himself at my entrance.

“You good?” he says between heavy breaths.

“I’ll be even better when you’re inside me.” Slowly, slowly, he slides in—and then pulls back out. “God. You really like teasing.”

“This is going to make me sound incredibly suave, but since it’s been a while, and since watching you come like that was maybe the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, I’m not sure how long I can actually last,” he admits. “So I’m trying not to . . . you know.”

“I’ll try to be less sexy?”

He chokes on a laugh as he guides himself back inside. Stretching me. “Just promise me you’ll give me another chance if I only go ten seconds this time, because there are about twenty different ways I’d like to fuck you.”

Jesus. I’ve never talked this much during sex. The occasional dirty talk, sure, but not the frankness we have with each other. The ability to laugh. It was always a race to shed our clothes, to put tab A into slot B. This is oddly freeing.

“I promise,” I say, letting out a gasp as he fills me completely.

He feels so good, so right that I can’t believe we’ve never done this before. At first I’m mesmerized by the sight of him pumping into me until I flick my gaze back to his, pull his face to mine so I can kiss him. Together we find a rhythm, and he must notice my hand drifting down between us because he meets me there. A muscle in his jaw and down his neck tightens, like he’s trying to hold back.

I arch my back to take him deeper as he draws a nipple into his mouth, sucking hard until I’m coming again. After a few more thrusts, his body shakes on top of mine, and he lets out this raw, shattered sound, burying himself even deeper than I thought possible. I have no idea how long it lasts, only that I’m completely spent at the end of it.

He withdraws, removing the condom and tying it off before throwing it away in the bathroom. I miss his warmth almost immediately, but I’m not entirely sure what to do now. I’m not spending the night—that’s not what this is. If I spend the night, if he even wanted me to . . . I’d be utterly and completely lost to him.

So I swing my legs to the side of the bed, which makes him frown when he gets back.

“You’re leaving?” he says, and the surprise in his voice makes me regret moving so quickly.

“I don’t have to.” I sink back into the bed.

“Good.” He slides in next to me, drawing me close against his chest. I press my face into the space where his neck meets his shoulder, listening to the rhythm of our breaths.

It kills me, how he goes from sexy to sweet in a matter of minutes. It feels too nice, this closeness, the heat of his body and the earthy smell of sex.

“Dominic,” I start. “We should talk about this.”

A pause, and then: “I guess we probably should.” He pushes up next to me so we’re both sitting. I don’t want to have this conversation in the nude, so I grab my shirt, and he must get the hint because he pulls on a pair of boxers. “Okay,” he says. “Let’s talk.”

“This”—I motion to the bed—“was extremely enjoyable.”

“I agree.”

The problem with this conversation is that I don’t know where to go from here. I don’t know what I want, and he’s so tough to read that I couldn’t even guess at what he wants.

When I’m silent for a beat too long, he says, “Maybe I could learn to do the casual thing.”

“Oh,” I say, unsure how to feel about that. “Yeah?” I can’t say I’m not anxious about keeping the show out of jeopardy. This might be the only way to do it.

He nods. “We’re adults. We’re being safe. If we can act normal at work, I don’t see why we should stop.” He pauses, glancing down between us, where he links his fingers with mine. “If you’re cool with it.”

Casual. It didn’t feel casual when he asked if I’d ever had an orgasm from oral sex. It didn’t feel casual when he said there were about twenty different ways he wanted to fuck me. And it definitely didn’t feel casual, the way he draped his arm over my back and toyed with the ends of my hair.

“Casual,” I say, trying to picture it. Sneaking around at work, showing up at his apartment at night. “Yeah. Okay. So . . . should we come up with rules, then? I haven’t really done this before either, but I—I’m not sleeping with anyone else.”

He makes a face as though this never would have occurred to him. “I wouldn’t.”