"You looking at my cum gutters?"
"Excuse me?" I withdraw my hand. "Did you say—"
"Cum? I did." His lips twitch in that almost smile that makes me want to find a way to coax a full smile from him. "Does that shock you?’"
"Of course not." I’ve heard that particular three-letter word mentioned in my Dramione fanfiction but somehow, hearing it drawled in a British accent, and from a man who looks as hot as Sir, it’s a whole different ball game. And I’d like to play a game with his balls, too. I flush. I can't believe I thought that. Oh, god, what’s wrong with me? "Please, I need to leave."
"You need to sleep." He rolls onto the mattress next to me, pulls the cover over us, then turns me away and spoons me.
He spoons me. And every part of my body relaxes. The heat from him forms an additional security blanket that pins me to the mattress. The thud-thud-thud of his heart at my back is soothing. My own heart beats in tandem. Our breathing synchronizes. A drugged sensation begins to seep into my limbs.
"It’s called an Adonis belt," his voice rumbles over me.
"Hmm?" I yawn.
"The cum gutters were meant to get a reaction from you." I hear the humor in his voice. "You can take a man out of the military, but you can’t remove his flair for speaking filth.”
"You can speak filth to me anytime, Sir." His dick twitches against the curve of my behind. Oops, guess, I shouldn’t have said that, but also, his body definitely has a visceral reaction when I call him, Sir. My lips curve, I yawn again and my eyes flutter down.
A wet, swiping sensation between my legs sends a pulse of heat up my spine. I part my thighs and push up my hips, inviting the intrusion. The lapping continues between my pussy lips, then around my clit, and my heart rate accelerates. I dig my fingers into his hair, then arch my back, chasing that feeling of his tongue stabbing into my pussy, of him curling his tongue inside me and touching the melting walls of my channel. My entire body jolts. I throw one ankle, then the other, around his neck and push my thighs into either side of his face. If this were real life, I’d worry about suffocating him. Good thing this is only a dream. I can be myself and enjoy this deliciously greedy feeling as he eats me out like his favorite desert. As he squeezes my ass-cheeks and holds me up at the right angle to serve his pleasure. As he licks me from my forbidden rosette to my clit. As he swipes his tongue in long sweeps between my pussy lips and brings tears of pleasure to my eyes. I open my mouth and allow myself to cry out. I open myself up to him, but it’s okay. It’s all a dream. So, I can enjoy this decadent sensation of him consuming me, of him dragging his stubbled chin up that most delicate part of me and making me scream. Of the orgasm that sweeps up from my toes, up my quaking thighs, to coil deep inside me, a whirlpool of desire spiraling me and higher… And he withdraws his tongue, pulls back, and the orgasm pauses. It hovers there on the edge, showing me the light in the distance. Then, it recedes… back… further back. What I thought was a dream has become a nightmare. "No, no, no!" My pussy clenches down on the emptiness. "Come back, please."
"Shh." He crawls up my body and presses his lips to mine. I taste myself on him. I taste him. And the combination is so heady, so right, so everything, a tear squeezes out from between my closed eyelids. Then, I’m being pulled onto his chest, the sound of a steady thump-thump relaxing me. He throws his arm about my waist. With the other, he draws his fingers down my hair, the gesture soothing. The ball of emotion in my throat fades, and warmth once more cocoons me.
Sometime later, I wake up, alone in his bed.
28
Knight
"So, you and Penny, huh?" Adam shoots me a sideways glance. We’ve finished our ten-mile run and slowed down to a walk to cool down. I didn’t want to leave her this morning. In fact, I confess, after the taste of her in the middle of the night when I woke up and feasted on her—when she opened herself up and allowed me to truly taste her, when her barriers were lowered enough for her to open her thighs and her heart and cry out when she was on the verge of coming without reservation—made me realize how much she held back otherwise.
Sure, I’m a bastard for taking what she gave so freely when she was sleeping and unaware of what I was doing to her. But she enjoyed it. And she curled up like a baby on my chest after that and went right back to sleep. She didn’t move when I slid out from under her and placed her head on the pillow. I made sure to cover her up before leaving. And then, my steps had been slow.
I stopped in the doorway to glance at her over my shoulder. The need to go back to her and hold her in my arms, burying my face in the curve of her neck and my cock in her sure-to-be-wet pussy, is what made me turn around and leave. I cannot get addicted to her. I broke one of my rules by insisting she stay overnight. There's no way I could have let her leave last night. Not after tasting her sweetness, feeling her flesh give under my fingers, seeing the marks I left on the inside of her thighs when I dragged my whiskers across as I ate her out.
She trembled and turned to a mass of yearning need under my ministrations. I felt her climb the slope to that invisible edge of no return and backed off. She whined and protested—in her sleep—and I had to stop myself from chuckling aloud. Which is when I realized, I’d almost laughed again in her presence.
She has that effect on me. My sunshine. My Little Dove who shines light into the murky darkness of my life. And I need to make her mine. A-n-d the fact that I’d allowed myself to think that sent me scrambling into my closet to get changed. And then, I ran out. She’s gotten under my skin, and I hadn’t realized it. Thoughts of her, echoes of her laughter, the image of those bright blue eyes alight with mischief as she sasses me again— All of it slips through my veins like adrenaline in the middle of a gunfire.
"Knight, you hear what I said?"
"Eh?" I turn then, almost stumbling on the path. I manage to right myself then turn to find Adam smirking.
"What?"
"You’ve got it bad, man."
"What are you talking about?" I roll my shoulders and continue walking at a brisk pace.
"Thought we were cooling down?" He snorts.
No chance of that. Not as long as I’m thinking about her.
"Knight, man, it’s okay to admit you like her."
"That is of no consequence."
"Of course, it is." He draws abreast. I ramp up my speed, but he easily keeps pace. This is what happens when you have a friend who not only saved your life on more than one occasion, but also is well-matched in strength, in power, and in the way we react to situations.
We’re so similar, our team had teased us about being two pieces of a whole. We’d scoffed at that. It's true, we have similar values—we’d been drawn to a life of service—but that’s where our similarities end. Where I pursue things with an intensity that's borderline obsessive, Adam is more easygoing. He's able to let go of things and move on, whereas I… I can’t forgive or forget that easily. It's why, though we experienced some rough shit together, Adam has managed to move on and re-integrate back into society much faster than I have. But then, he also agreed to see a shrink from the day he returned—something I've refused to. I'm not ready to open that can of worms… Yet.