Out On a Limb(11)

Oh my god.

“Ready?” he asks, his eyes searching mine. I nod for him, curling my tongue around his thumb. His malevolent smile only grows fiercer before he pushes my head down onto his lap. He’s got a tight hold around my ponytail and his other hand on my cheek.

Okay, so it does fit.

And Bo is not too sweet.

And I’m possibly going to have to consider the one part of the term one-night stand.

He moans shakily as I swallow him back. “So much quieter,” he says teasingly, breathless even still. I glare up at him but, strangely, it doesn’t have the same effect while his dick is hitting the back of my throat.

I continue working him over, pressing my tongue flat against him and tracing the veins along his shaft. When I hollow out my cheeks, his whole body tenses, and he pulls my hair far too tight until I whine.

“Shit, sorry,” he says, letting my hair go nearly completely.

I release him from my mouth with a wet pop, continuing to stroke him with my hand. “Don’t be.” I grin like the devil as I lick from base to tip. “I can handle it.”

What I mean is; I’m so tired of men treating me like I’m delicate because of my hand. I’m not breakable. I’m definitely not broken. Use me. Let me drive you to the point where you’d do unspeakable things. Let me have that power over you. I’m capable of it.

Minutes go by of rhythmic push and pull. With my mouth wrapped around him, Bo seems to be in heaven—calling out my name and whispering unsparing praises, as if he’s willing to lay his life at my feet.

Bo’s hand moves from its hold around my hair to my ass, kneading and gripping my flesh. I arch my back for him, pushing my bum into the air.

“Goddamn,” he whispers, taking hold of my panties and tugging them downward. He helps me lift out of them, and once they’re long lost to the ever-growing pile of clothes on the floor, Bo reaches between my legs, cupping me in a way that feels possessive and lit with desire. I thank him by humming around his dick while increasing my mouth’s speed and intensity.

He shivers on a long exhale, hissing as I come up after gagging. Bo traces a finger around my wet entrance, and instantly, I feel myself flutter in anticipation.

“Stop,” Bo says forcefully, pulling me off him with a hand on the back of my neck. He sits up, reaching toward me. “I need you.” With two hands on my waist, he picks me up and drops me onto his lap. I giggle, my chest crashing against his.

“Impatient,” I say, raising an eyebrow as I look between us to where his glistening, wet hardness is pressed against his abdomen.

“Maddening…” He laughs slowly, rolling his neck. “You are maddening.”

I bite my lip, trying not to blush or smile as I lean toward the nightstand. My breasts catch Bo’s attention while I reach into the bedside drawer. As he licks and nibbles around my nipples, I absentmindedly sweep my hand inside the box of condoms. Then I do it again. Finding… nothing.

No… No. No. No!

“Shit.” I straighten, forcing Bo off my tits as I peer into a completely empty box.

“What?” he asks, his eyes drifting between my look of disbelief and the bedside drawer.

“Do you have a condom?” I ask.

He rubs his right shoulder with the opposite hand, making his bicep tense in front of his chest, which is not helping my focus whatsoever. “No. Shit, sorry. I, uh, didn’t exactly see this happening.”

“Damn it,” I whine, going to my knees next to him on the bed. I can’t think properly while I’m on his lap.

I could throw on some clothes and run across the hallway to Sarah and Caleb’s room—but I vowed to never go back into their drawer after the traumatic sex toy collection discovery of 2019. I bite the small nail on my right thumb nervously, assessing our next best option.

With Bo’s eyes held on me in concern, he does the unexpected. He brings my small hand away from my teeth and to his lips. Then he kisses each of my little fingers, one by one.

No one has ever done that.

I’ve never bothered to imagine that anyone would touch me there so intimately.

The whirling in my chest tells me I’m unsure of whether this level of vulnerability is okay. I don’t stop him, though. I don’t want to. I just stare in equal parts awe and confusion.

Bo grazes his teeth along my palm, then plants a few delicate kisses onto my wrist, his eyes holding mine the entire time. I’m a little stunned. And conscious of how my heart’s rhythm has quickened and swelled into a forgotten affection I haven’t felt in years. Possibly ever.

“Do we need to stop?” he asks, his voice low.

No, everything in me answers.

“I’m on the pill,” I choke out.

He nods thoughtfully. “I’ve been tested since my last time. All clear,” Bo says with an unmistakable desperation in his voice.

“Me too.” I nuzzle against his neck as he winds his hands around my waist and pulls me back onto his lap. “I don’t want to stop,” I say as he places kisses across my collarbone.

“Neither do I,” he answers.

Lulled with such adoring kisses, I eventually lower myself onto him completely bare. At first, we both remain perfectly still as I adjust to the stretch of him inside me. I feel him deeper than I thought possible, and while it’s not exactly uncomfortable, it steals my breath away and causes a shudder to pass through me. A throbbing ache needing to be satiated.