Fucking perfect.
Rosalie’s breath hitches, and I realize she’s watching me. I don’t stop what I’m doing, though. Not wanting to miss a drop, I keep sucking her off me.
Her expression is nothing short of scandalized, and it’s so adorable I can’t help laughing.
“I didn’t know I could be so… messy.” Her face is red again, and I kiss her burning cheeks, one right after the other.
Whipping my tank top over my head, I sit up and use it to clean Rosalie. She watches me as I wipe between her legs. Staying completely still and open, she lets me take care of her.
I’m proud of myself. It’s the kind of pride you get when you do something selfless.
No, it’s not just about the orgasm. It’s about giving my woman what she needs.
Her legs are like jelly as she lets me put her pants back on. I gently put her shirt back in place before getting up to turn off the light.
As the room is cloaked in darkness, a streetlamp outside the window provides an orange glow.
“I’ve never seen you with your shirt off before.” Rosalie’s eyes ping from my shoulders to my chest to my abs. Then her gaze lowers to where I’m tenting my pants.
I smirk. “Like what you see?”
Nodding, she confirms, “Very much.”
When I get back to the bed, I nudge her over so I’m on the side of the bed facing the door. If any danger comes, I’ll be blocking her. Hooking my arm around her waist, I curl my body around hers.
“Goodnight, Rosie Doll,” I tell her, but it’s not what I really want to say.
Because the words bouncing around in my head are clearly I love you.
As Preston lies behind me, I can feel the fast beating of his heart. And the erection poking my butt.
“What about you?” I ask, still buzzing all over. “I didn’t get to touch you.”
He chuckles. “So impatient. You don’t have to do everything right away. We have time.”
I wiggle until I’m facing him. “But I want to do it right now.”
“Aren’t you tired?”
“Not yet.”
“Well.” He flops onto his back. “I’m not going to stop you if you want to touch my dick, baby.”
For some reason, I almost expected him to say no. He’s being so careful with me. It’s annoying. I’ve always been treated as if I’m about to break, and I’m done with that shit.
But.
I can admit to myself that I have no idea what to do with a man’s cock. Aside from the flaccid dick pic I got in that message last night, I’ve never seen one. At home, I was too paranoid to look up porn on my computer.
“Can you… show me what to do?” I ask shyly.
“Yeah,” Preston responds huskily, pushing his sweatpants down to mid-thigh.
His erection is a massive shadow against his lower stomach. It’s almost comically large. Of course, I know better than to laugh at a time like this, but I feel giddy, almost like I’m riding the high my medicine gives me.
Covering my twitching lips, I just stare, studying Preston’s length. As my eyes go lower, I realize the rounded shape at the bottom of his cock is his ball sac.
“The first thing you’ll want to do,” Preston drawls, startling me from my ogling, “is touch it. There isn’t really much you can do wrong. It’s all about friction and pressure. Lots of rubbing.”
I reach out. Slowly.
Starting with the tip, I pet his silky skin with my fingertips. His dick immediately reacts, jerking under my hand.
When I wrap my fingers around it, I realize I can feel his pulse here, and I wonder if he aches the way I did before I got off. I want him to come, but not yet.
I’m not done playing.
Staying silent, Preston lets me explore.
Carefully and softly, I become familiar with the texture and shape of his cock. I didn’t realize it would be so warm and smooth, and I’m fascinated by the veins under his delicate skin.
I trace the round head. I caress the slit at the top. I travel down to his balls.
Cupping him there, I notice how the skin texture changes.
Preston groans, and his ab muscles clench.
I remove my hand. “Did I hurt you?”
“Just the opposite.”
He likes what I’m doing? “But I haven’t done much.”
“I know.” He grunts out a laugh. “It won’t take long. I’m pretty wound up from finger fucking you.”
Flames lick up my face again, and I’m glad it’s probably too dark for him to see it. I’ve never blushed this much, but I can’t help it when he talks about sex so bluntly like that. Like it’s fun and dirty. And something I definitely want to do.
Grabbing my hand, Preston fists my fingers around his cock. “Like this.”
His grip covers mine as he starts moving up and down, and I like the way the satiny skin covering his shaft is loose enough to glide over the hardness underneath.
Preston guides me from the base to the tip a few more times, then he lets go. I keep pumping up and down, and the guttural sounds coming from his throat are the encouragement I need to know I’m doing it right.
“Tighter,” he rasps, and I do what he asks. He nods. “Good, baby. That’s real good. Now faster.”
As I follow his instructions, his entire body tenses and his breathing becomes erratic. He reaches down to his balls. “Touch me here, too. Tug a little, like this.”
My hand replaces his, and I notice the sac has gotten firmer. Tighter. My motions falter a little because I’m trying to do two things at once, but I quickly find a good rhythm again.
Just a second later, Preston’s hips thrust up, and a stream of something thick shoots from his cock. It spurts a few times, making a mess of his chest and stomach.
I keep pumping until only a couple drips are coming out.
Realizing I did it—I actually got him off—I slow to a stop and look at Preston’s face. He’s gazing back at me with awe, his lips parted as he catches his breath.
Sending me a heart-melting smirk, he rakes a hand through his hair. “You have no idea how much I needed that.”
I smile. That was fun, and I already want to do it again. Remembering how he tasted me, I wonder what he tastes like, too. Before I can think too much about what I’m doing, I lean forward and lick his tip.
He’s salty and a little sweet.
Opening my mouth, I engulf the head and suck on it like a lollypop.
“Oh, fuck.” Preston thrusts as he comes a little more on my tongue.
He grabs the base of my ponytail, like he doesn’t know if he should push me down or pull me off. After a couple seconds, he goes with the latter.
Tenderly stroking a finger down my cheek, he lightly pinches my chin. “You’re perfect, you know that?”
His praise, combined with the way he looks at me like I’m important, affects me in a physical way. My heart thumps and my stomach drops.
Is this what love feels like?
I have no life experiences to compare it to, but I think so.
After Preston retrieves the shirt he used to clean me up, he does the same to himself. Once he’s wiped his torso off, he pulls his pants back in place and opens his arms to invite me in.
I snuggle against his side, resting my head between his shoulder muscles and his pec, and he brings the covers up over us.