Gradually, he moves faster, crooking his fingers inside me to hit a softer, deeper spot. Just when I’m positive this couldn’t get any more heavenly, he brings his tongue to my center, sending a jolt of pure electricity through me. My hips buck with need, every stroke of his tongue bringing me closer and closer to climax.
“Landon, please.” I beg shamelessly, digging my nails into his shoulders as I teeter on the edge for a long, breathless moment. “I’m so close.”
He groans in approval against me, and in that moment, I completely let go. With one last desperate sigh, I freefall into him, tumbling harder and faster than ever before.
It takes a good, long moment for me to catch my breath. He is undeniably good at that. When he rises to his feet, he towers over me, and my eyes instantly lock on the erection pressing into the front of his jeans.
Propping myself up onto my elbows, I reach out one curious hand, stroking him through the denim. His eyes flutter closed, a low, satisfied hum building in his throat.
“Okay?” I blink up at him, enjoying the look of pleasure on his face.
“God, yes.” His voice is low and thick with an edge of barely restrained desire. It’s irresistible. All of him is.
With eager fingers, I unbutton his jeans, holding my breath a little as I shift his boxers out of the way to free his length.
Holy. Shit.
He’s huge.
If ever there was such a thing as a beautiful cock, this is it. Smooth, curving up ever so slightly. And what this man lacks in age, he makes up for in inches. I want to take my time with him, stroking and tasting every inch.
But not tonight. Tonight, I just want to make him come for me. He’s been so patient, after all.
Once Landon is free from his jeans and the black cotton boxers, he joins me on the bed, touching my shoulder, stroking my collarbone, kissing my neck as I curl my fingers around him. With a steady grip, my hand slides up and down his thick erection in long strokes. I can hear his heartbeat thumping inside his chest as he sucks in one shaky breath after another, watching me with hungry eyes as I move a little faster.
“Just like that, baby.” He tenses and twitches beneath my touch, his chest rising as he inhales. “Just like that. You’re gonna make me come.”
My eyes narrow, a sultry smile twitching on my lips as I watch his control start to waver. His hips thrust into my fist in uneven jerks. “Come for me, Landon.”
As if on command, he steadies one hand on my hip and lets go, jetting across my stomach in wet, hot bursts.
It’s quiet for a moment as his breathing returns to normal, his eyes focused on the hand still pressed against the bed until he finally cuts through the silence with a soft exhale.
After pressing a thankful kiss into my forehead, he disappears into the bathroom, returning with toilet paper in excess to clean me up. “Sorry about this,” he mutters, wiping up his mess.
“Don’t be.”
Once we’re all cleaned up, I pull back my duvet, gesturing for him to crawl in with me. I don’t know if he wants to spend the night or not, but no way is he bolting out of here after that.
I sigh, nestling in under the covers. “I missed this.”
“What?” he asks, his voice harsh.
“Having a cuddle buddy.”
He tugs me closer. “Then get your hot ass over here, sweetheart.”
“You don’t mind cuddling? I thought most guys hated it.”
“That’s not true, is it?” He breathes against my hair.
“I’m pretty sure it’s a universally known fact. It’s one of those things that’s merely tolerated after sex.” I shift, bringing us closer. “And you don’t even get the benefit of that.”
“Well, maybe I’m not most guys.”
“Trust me, I figured that out.”
His arms feel so good and so solid around me.
“I like cuddling with you too,” he says after a moment of comfortable silence. “Plus, I’m pretty sure it’s in the husband job description somewhere, isn’t it?”
I think he’s kidding, but his words put a tiny knot of worry in my chest.
Is that all I am to him? An obligation? Something that he’s trying to do the right thing by?
It’s a thought that stings more than I thought it would.
• • •
Landon
Aubree seems to have let go of her insecurities about our age difference, and the last thing I want to do is set her off again, so I hope my question won’t do that.
“Can I ask you something?” I ask, stretching to bring one arm around her in the bed.
She nods, picking at a piece of lint on the duvet. “Go for it.”
“Why are you still single?”
She lifts her head from its resting spot on my chest and gives me an uncertain look. “What do you mean?”
I shrug. “You’re obviously a catch. Smoking hot. Fun. Smart. Amazing at Skee-Ball.”
She smirks. “Go on . . .”
I smile. “Well, I’m not going to lie and tell you that you’re a good dancer. You’re not, babe.”
“Shush.” She swats my arm. “Just ask me what you wanted to ask me.”
“Well, I was just wondering why you haven’t settled down with someone yet?”
She licks her lips, weighing my question. “I’ve dated a lot, but I always kept things casual. I guess it’s just because I’ve always prioritized my job over my relationships. I love what I do, you know, and it’s important work.”
I nod. “That’s a good reason, I guess.”
She inhales, releasing the breath slowly as she lays her head back down against my chest. “Maybe. But I know you’re right. If I don’t want to end up old and alone, I’m going to need to learn to make room for a man in my life.”
That’s not what I asked, but I don’t point that out. And since I’m hoping to be that man in her future, at her side, I don’t want to press my luck. “Today was a good start.”
She nods. “It was fun.” There’s a long pause before Aubree continues. “I haven’t told you this before, but my parents divorced when I was young.”
“How old were you?”
“Little. First grade, I think. I hardly remember a time when they were together, so the divorce itself wasn’t difficult on me. But I watched my mom go from relationship to relationship, always looking for a man to fulfill her. I guess that left an impression.”
I’m pleased that Aubree’s finally letting me in, but I opt to stay quiet and just run my fingertips along her arm, hoping she’ll continue. And after a little while, she does.
“I vowed that I would never be like that—dependent on a man with nothing for myself. I didn’t want to repeat her mistakes. So I went to college, focusing on myself, my goals, my grades, applying for the best internships. I was driven, and I never really focused on dating. I liked that about myself, you know? I took pride in that.”
“And you should.”
I want to ask if she feels differently now. Even if I do respect the hell out of her for creating the future she wants for herself, I hope she’s starting to consider how I might fit into that future too. But am I brave enough to ask her?