Left Drowning(70)

Virtually all that Chris and I have done at the hotel is make love. Or f*ck. Whatever. We’ve gone slow and gentle, we’ve gone hard and rough. We’ve traded power back and forth. Sometimes he leads me, defining what we do, how we do it, and what the mood is. Sometimes I do. I have been relishing the chance to be in control, to make decisions for myself, to take what I need, and to give to someone else. So I am sore, very much so, and my entire body hurts, but in the most amazing way. My ability to connect physically, to feel sexual and sensual, is undeniable now. Chris has given that to me.

We’ve been in bed all day. I think both of us are conscious of the ticking clock. His brothers and sister stopped calling, and texting, and banging on the door two days ago.

Chris leans over me, kissing my chest and my stomach.

“How can you be this good?” I whisper. “It’s impossible.”

“If I’m good at all, it’s because of you. Because I want to give you everything.”

He lowers his kisses and bends up my legs. I know what he’s about to do, and I’m dying to let him do it, but there’s something I want first.

I move between his legs and take his cock in my hand. He is so hard, so perfect. I start moving slowly and then lean over and begin to slide him into my mouth. I keep my fingers around the base and press my tongue against him as I take him in fully. The taste of him is extraordinary. The taste is mine. When he’s wet and slick, I tighten my lips and begin to move up and down, doing what I’ve gotten good at over the past few days.

Chris groans loudly. “Fuck, your mouth is so hot. God …”

Hearing him say this makes me move faster. Tonight I’m to make him come in my mouth. It’s something that we haven’t done completely yet because the lure of having sex has always taken over, but right now I desperately want this. I’m moving my hand up and down in rhythm with my mouth as he shifts under me, and I love how it feels to blow him. Soon his hands are in my hair, and his breathing quickens.

“I can’t last like this, Blythe. You’re too good … God, you’re too good.”

I don’t need him to last because there is no way that I’m letting him stop me this time. And I know for sure that this isn’t going to put him out of commission for the night. I start sucking on him faster, harder. I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to.

His hands are tight in my hair now, moving up and down with my head, and I can tell by the sounds he’s making that I have him on that same edge where he puts me. I slow down a bit to keep him there because I want him blind with pleasure.

I love it. I love making Chris feel like this. I feel him clench his muscles as he pushes a little farther into my mouth. Then he is saying my name, and I taste him, I drink him in, totally turned on and high from being able to satisfy him like this. When his groaning has subsided, when he’s fully done, I kiss my way breathlessly up his muscled chest, and before I even reach his mouth, he flips me onto my back and starts kissing my neck.

“That was …” I feel him shake his head. “There are no words.”

His tongue makes its way over my body. He moves his lips across my inner thigh, and I can feel my legs start to shake because I know what his tongue is about to do to me. “I love making love to you,” he tells me. “Your body feels so damn good.” Then his mouth is between my legs. I reach down to find his hands, and I take them in mine. I close my eyes while he does what he does so well.

Every little touch of his lips, his fingers, his tongue … Everything he does makes me want more of him. Just when I’m getting close, he stops and pulls away. Chris sits back on his legs and sets my hands on my own body. He watches while he moves my hands for me, over my stomach and my breasts, tracing the path that he kissed moments ago. Then he puts my own hands between my legs. I rub a finger against myself while Chris takes a condom from the bedside table. He moves one hand to put the tip of his cock against me and puts the other hand back over mine so that he can feel me make myself come. Which I do. Or, rather, we do. And just when I start, just at that moment when I feel everything begin to release, he slides inside. He leans over me now, moving his hips just slightly while I tighten around him over and over. As loud as I’ve been tonight, I can’t make a sound now. Feeling him inside me like this consumes me.

I tuck up my knees and pull him deep into me. He lifts up just enough so that we can look at each other. “God, Blythe,” is all he can manage to say.

He looks more lost in this—maybe in me—than he has until now, and it’s momentarily disarming. But I want to try something, so I lift up my leg and push against him, cuing us to roll over so that I can be on top. Another thing that we haven’t gotten around to trying yet.

I lean over him, barely moving. It’s like the first time all over again: tight, and intense, and amazing. More than that, I am overwhelmed by how connected we are to each other, and how perfect this is. It’s almost totally dark in the room, but the light from the city is enough to cast a glow over us. Chris is still, letting me move tentatively as I get used to how this feels. His fingers run lightly over my back, down my ass, and across the back of my thighs. The way he caresses my breasts is tender and loving, and I’m pretty sure that I could stay like this forever. So I take my time.

Because I can’t get enough of watching him, I try sitting straight up so that I can look into his eyes while I start to grind more confidently. Even though we’re moving slowly, he can hardly speak. “Blythe.” The way that he says my name this time is different, more loaded. He holds his hands up for me and I put my palms flat against his, our fingers pressed together. We cannot take our eyes off each other. I lean on him for support while I start to rock my hips back and forth, and the intensity grows fast. I just need a little more …