35

T he sight of him looking up at me, eyes filled with desire, erupts the feeling of butterflies in my stomach. He slides a finger inside me, and a soft, surprised mew escapes my lips, and Bradley's eyes flick up to my face. His fingers slip out and then back in so easily. Despite being in the shower, I'm wet for entirely different reasons. My hips push against his fingers, trying to catch his rhythm.

"You're drenched, Amelia," he groans, his voice thick with desire. "You're so wet and ready for me."

"Yes," I choke out, tilting my hips up.

With a growl of satisfaction, Bradley dips his head again. His fingers slip out of me, but before I can mourn the loss, he spreads me open and I nearly squeal at the feel of his tongue on me. I gasp, my hands finding purchase in his hair as he works his magic. He circles my clit, teasing and pressing until he finally sucks it, and I can't help the moan that escapes my lips.

He hoists one of my thighs up, placing it over his shoulder, holding me steady as I cry out, feeling my orgasm building faster than it ever has before—the sound echoing in the bathroom. Bradley gently places a hand to my mouth to muffle my sounds, his eyes intense as he looks up at me.

"Can you be quiet for me, sunshine?" he whispers.

I nod, moaning against his hand, and when he presses his fingers inside me, curling them upward, like he did last night, I burst apart, crying out his name—my voice muffled by his palm as my eyes flutter shut. I'm a writhing mess against his talented mouth, my fingers gripping his hair.

The orgasm rolls through me in waves, until I finally go limp, leaning against the cool tiled walls.

If I thought my orgasm yesterday was good, then this... this is sensational.

Coming down from my high, I pull Bradley up to stand, craving his lips on mine again. Kissing him feels like a dream, and I can't get enough. He moans into my mouth, nibbling on my bottom lip before pulling away with a pleased, cocky smile on his face. He brushes his fingers across my cheekbone affectionately, his eyes searching mine.

"Holy... shit!" I exclaim, breathless—not caring about the swearing. "That... that was amazing." I enjoyed that way too much, and I think I'm now obsessed.

I take it he enjoyed that, too.

No. That's an understatement.

He loved it just as much as I did because, just when I thought his dick was hard before, it's an absolute rock now, jutting upward and rubbing against me. I want to repay the favour, but... how? What do I even do? Just as I'm about to ask, he says, "Come, let's finish washing up and head inside."

Does he not need to take care of… that? Surely, he does. He must be painfully hard at this point. But I follow his lead as he starts washing his body quickly, so I grab my bottle of shampoo and wash my hair—the scent of cherry blossom filling the space around us.

I finish washing up before Brad, but I wait for him to finish before we step out of the shower, each grabbing a towel from the rack. Lucky I'd laid out two earlier. Drying off quickly, he only puts his shorts back on, leaving his t-shirt draped over the rack. I wrap the towel around my body and hurry into my bedroom to grab a pair of pyjamas.

I peek in on Millie, who is now sound asleep, curled into a ball on my side of the bed. Smiling softly, I close the door and head back to the living room, where Bradley is waiting on the couch.

"All good?" he asks, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Yeah."

I join him on the couch, snuggling into his side. He wraps an arm around me, pulling me close. Bradley gives me a once-over, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Cute PJs," he says, brushing a stray hair behind my ear. I glance down at my Mickey Mouse-inspired Christmas pyjamas, the ones my sister bought me last year. They're my favourite.

"Thanks," I say, blushing slightly. "I-I still can't believe what just happened."

He chuckles, his fingers tracing patterns on my arm. "Believe it, Mills. And get used to it, because I'm not going anywhere."

His words fill me with warmth, and I nestle closer to him, feeling a sense of peace. "I'm glad," I whisper, looking up at him. "I don't want this to end."

"Neither do I," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.

A sudden feeling of apprehension washes over me. "Bradley, I'm worried about Olivia. Going behind her back like this... it doesn't feel right."

He sighs in response. "We'll tell her soon. When we find the right time."

The right time? But when exactly will that be? I push these thoughts aside, noticing the evident bulge in his shorts. I really want to return the favour.

"Bradley, um, can I…" My words trail off. Just say it, Amelia. "Can I... return the favour?" I ask tentatively. His expression shifts, a brief flicker of surprise crossing his face. "It's just, I've never—" I begin, my voice trailing off with uncertainty.

"I know, Mills. And you don't have to. I only want you to do what you're comfortable with," he reassures me, his tone gentle and understanding.

My gaze shifts to his lap, noticing the growing bulge straining against his shorts.

Gathering my courage, I continue, "I want to at least try. Can you... teach me?" I admit, the words come out with newfound determination. I'm shedding my shyness; I genuinely want to learn how to please him, for both his sake and mine .

His gaze softens in response, a silent acknowledgment of my request, before he nods in agreement.

Bradley

As I sit here, her request echoing in my mind, my thoughts drift back to our shower. I can't help but recall how beautiful she looked, her body bathed in water, her curves enticing and mesmerising. Her eyes, so round and captivating, held a depth that drew me in.

The memory of her surrendering to me, her taste lingering on my lips, ignites a fire within me. Now, as she sits before me, eager and willing, I feel a surge of affection and admiration. Her desire to learn, to please me, fills me with a sense of gratitude.

I love the sight of her, on her knees, looking up at me with those beautiful eyes—ready to explore this new experience together.

With deliberate slowness, I lift my hips and pull my shorts down my legs, my cock springing free and resting against my abdomen. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart.

Why the fuck am I nervous?

This is the first time I've had to teach someone, so I guess for both of us, this is a first. Her eyes widen at the sight of me, and it only stirs me more; then her brows crease.

"How…" She looks back at me wide-eyed. "I…"

"Tell me. Tell me what's on your mind."

She smiles nervously before starting to ramble. "Well, it's just that you're... huge, like really huge," she says, her eyes widening. "And well, despite my tendency to ramble, my mouth is pretty small, and I don't think it'll all fit in it, and I have a gag reflex, so that might be a problem. I don't know how—"

"Amelia," I command softly, trying my absolute hardest to not grin like a fucking cheshire cat. "Take a deep breath. We'll go nice and slow."

"Okay, but I want it to feel good, so, you know, you can... come," she says, nodding. I smirk at her.

"Anything you do to me, baby, will feel good." She tries to hide her blush, but I see it.

"Give me your hand," I instruct softly, my voice gentle yet firm. She grips me softly, and I inhale sharply at the first contact of her hand on me.

I wrap my hand around hers, guiding it up and down my shaft. She moves her hand with a perfect rhythm, the pressure just right, and it sends tingles down to my balls. I can't help but let out a low groan, the sensation overwhelming.

"That's it, Mills," I murmur, my voice husky with pleasure. "Just like that." Her confidence grows with each stroke, and she starts picking up the pace, her hand moving more freely.

The pleasure builds inside me, a delicious tension coiling tighter and tighter.

"Now, take me into your mouth, and while you suck me off, pump the root with your fist. The key is to grip it firmly, but not too hard. Suck hard when you get to the top." She nods, eager to continue, but I don't want to force her.

"Amelia, we seriously don't have to do this—ahh," I hiss as she cuts me off by wrapping her warm mouth around me. She freezes momentarily, probably adjusting to my size in her mouth.

"Easy, baby. Go slow," I murmur.

She's hesitant at first, applying a soft pressure, and I have to grab her hand, pressing harder to show her how much to squeeze at the base. I'm not delicate. I don't mind it being a little rough, but it's her first time, so I lay off a bit. And for a first timer, she's doing a fucking stellar job.

As I guide her, she grows more confident. "That's it, now swirl your tongue around the tip," I say, my voice strained with pleasure. "And suck harder when you get to the top and use your hand to pump the base."

Her hand pumps the base of my shaft while her mouth works on the rest, her tongue swirling and teasing. The combination of her soft, warm mouth and her hand is driving me wild. I groan, my fingers tangling in her hair as she finds a rhythm. "You're doing such a good job."

Her eyes flick up to meet mine, and the sight of her, mouth full, open wide, is enough to bring me over the edge. She picks up the pace, her hand and mouth working in perfect harmony.

The pleasure builds inside me, intense and overwhelming, until I'm teetering on the edge.

"Such a good girl. Taking my cock in that pretty little mouth." She whimpers at my words, and I wonder if I'm being too direct, too vulgar. She hums on my cock in approval, and that's all the validation I need.

"Amelia, I'm close," I warn her, my voice husky. She doesn't falter, continuing with the same determination and focus. "If you don't want to swallow, pull off before. I'll tell you when," I say through clenched teeth, my jaw clenching at the euphoric sensation waving over me. She nods, with her mouth still full, while she pumps me again, applying suction at the tip. Finally, the tension snaps.

"I'm coming," I pant, sliding my hand into her hair, gripping it tight to hold it out of the way, and she pulls back just in time, my spurts of cum hitting my stomach.

I let out a deep, guttural moan as the pleasure washes over me in powerful waves, shuddering through my climax. The release is overwhelming, and I close my eyes in a euphoric state. I can't remember the last time my orgasm was that intense.

I also can't decide if it's because it's been a while, and by a while, I mean a good month now, or if it's because Amelia was the one to bring me to that state.

Something tells me it's the latter.

It's been about an hour since the mind-blowing orgasm Amelia gave me, and I'm still winding down from it. After I finished, I cleaned up, and I'd pulled her in for a kiss. She was so happy and shocked at her efforts; her face lit up when I praised her and covered her in more kisses.

Now, it's starting to get a little late, and we're under the blanket on her couch. The TV is playing on low, almost inaudible, with Friends episodes running on Netflix. It's been playing quite often since I've been around here; it must be a comfort show for her, and I love that. It's so fitting for her. She sighs contentedly, and I smile, more to myself. Despite all the stresses from work, I also feel content. Content being here, in her presence, in her safe space, just with her.

After a moment, she announces, "So, I received some good news the other day."

"Oh, yeah? What news?" I ask, curious.

"I've been invited to go to a gallery in Sydney to show some of my works." She sits up, her excitement palpable.

I can't help but smile wider. "That's amazing, Mills. I'm so proud of you," I tease, raising an eyebrow. "Though I still haven't seen these said artworks."

She laughs, a sound that feels like sunshine. "Soon. I promise."

That's all I need to hear. I won't press her further; I respect her privacy and request.

"Seriously, though, you deserve it. I can only assume your work is fucking mint if they've accepted you in."

Her eyes light up, and she leans in to kiss me softly. "Thank you, Bradley. It means a lot to me."

"When do you need to be there?" I ask .

"June, sometime. I'll head down and stay with my sister while I'm there. They said I could invite whoever I wanted, so…" Her words trail off as she twists her lips.

I can read between the lines. "I'll be there if you want me there."

She beams. "Of course I'd want you there."

"What about your parents? Are they coming?"

She shakes her head. "They've never been fans of flying, so most likely not. But it's okay, I'll have Kat, John, and Millie. And you, if you come. I know you have work."

"I'll be there," I promise.

With that, we settle back into the couch, the warmth of the blanket and the comfort of each other's company making everything feel just right. I can't help but think how perfect this moment is. Stress just melts away when I'm with her, and everything else fades into the background.

It's moments like these that make me realise how lucky I am to have someone in my life to ground me during these weird times. The other day, I'd been off, dry as shit, just in a foul mood.

Daniels is used to my moods by now, but the other boys, not so much. Some of the young prospects take it too seriously. I feel bad looking back at it. But fuck, it's hard .

To get out of your head sometimes, you know?

I glance over at Amelia, nestled against me, her attention half on the TV and half on our quiet conversation. Lately, she's been my anchor, pulling me out of my head when the darkness creeps in. I never thought I'd find someone who could see past the rough exterior, who could handle my moods and still want to be around.

I think about how I snapped at one of the new recruits just the other day. Kid looked like a deer in headlights. I regretted it the moment it happened, but sometimes, the weight of everything just gets to you. The pressure, the expectations, the constant need to perform—it's exhausting.

But then there's Amelia. She doesn't expect anything from me other than to be myself. And somehow, that's enough for her. It's more than enough for me.

I hold her a little tighter, grateful for this moment, this quiet evening on the couch. The TV hums softly in the background. Amelia sighs contentedly, snuggling closer, and I smile to myself.

Content.

That's what this is—and for now, it's all I need.