29. Loren

29

LOREN

I'm not sure when the last time I've been to a library was. It's a very strange kind of quiet. There's rustling and whispers. Dark spots and a weird flickering light in the back corner. People move around like phantoms. I swear, I saw one person glide.

The idea that all libraries must be haunted crosses my mind as I take a seat next to Oakley. A million lives live within the pages and every time those pages are opened, a little more life is breathed into the characters. How many times does the book need to be read before the world within breaks free and surrounds us?

Maybe people get sucked into books!

I glance at the books Oakley has open. A couple on space and one about ancient Mesopotamia. What a strange combination they'd create if all three books burst into existence in front of us. Crumbling stone buildings set on the side of mountains on Mars and the moons of Saturn.

Hmm. There's a chance I have a more active imagination than I thought.

I skim over the page one of the astronomy books is open to before looking at Oakley. His hair is wrapped loosely in an elastic, but falling around his face. Loose curls make his eyes stand out, even though they're practically the same color as his hair. It's completely mesmerizing.

He has such long lashes too. Soft lips. A perfect pert nose. Such a smooth jaw line. Elegant neck that leads into a delicate collarbone. My gaze stops on the remnants of the marks on his neck, mostly from his fingernails as he tried to claw the rope away. I've been making sure we apply scar cream every morning and evening. They're fading.

I'd hate for them to always be there. Not because they take away from his beauty but because his eyes constantly snag on them in his reflection. They're a reminder that someone nearly murdered him, and I hate he carries around that fear. If I could kill that fucker again, I would. Over and over and over.

Sliding my chair closer, I look over his shoulder. His lips curl. "You don't have to hang around if you're bored, Loren," he says in a hushed voice. "I'm just studying."

"This place is haunted," I mutter, pressing my lips to his shoulder.

He picks his head up and looks at me. His eyes widened slightly. "What?"

I shrug. "Think about all the stories that are let loose in here every day. There's that flickering light in the back too."

"That's probably electrical. Or a dying bulb."

"Or a ghost," I say.

He stares. Blinks. Then breaks out into a big smile, trying to contain his laughter. "You're so damn cute."

I humph. "I'm fine. Study. I'm just watching."

"And looking out for ghosts," he teases, turning back to his book.

"It's possible."

"Science doesn't agree."

"Science also says there are a lot of unexplained and unidentified things in the world."

He's still grinning.

For a while, I entertain myself with thoughts of things science can't explain. I even track down an anatomy book to remind myself of the many arteries and ways people can die. Humans truly are fragile.

However, it's not long before I'm bored again. I admire Oakley for a while longer before I need to touch him. Sliding my chair against his, I lean into him, wrapping an arm around his waist and dropping the other hand to his thigh.

Oakley smiles but doesn't comment. I watch as he highlights in his notebook and scribbles more notes. He has pretty handwriting. It's kind of loopy and flows like a river.

Moving my hand along his thigh, I curl it under his leg. My thumb brushes his cock, and he inhales.

"Are you trying to distract me?" he murmurs.

I shake my head. "No. Keep studying. I just need to touch you."

He huffs. Since he doesn't tell me not to, I shift my hand so I'm over his dick and rub him through his pants. He hardens in my hand as I do in my pants.

"What underwear are you wearing?" I whisper.

Oakley shivers. "Uh… Ones you like." His cheeks heat and yep, I'm here for this.

Glancing around, there isn't anyone immediately nearby. "Keep studying," I murmur before dropping out of the chair and crawling under the table.

"What are you doing?" he hisses.

I pull his chair close, earning myself a quiet bark of laughter. He allows me to shimmy his ass to the edge of the chair and I bury my face between his legs.

Oakley makes a choking sound. "Jesus," he whispers.

His backpack is on the floor, so I poke my hand inside the small pockets until I find one of those little travel size bottles of lube. I knew where it was, since I put it there. Hooking my fingers in the elastic of his pants, I pull them down to his calves.

"Loren, we're going to get in trouble," he hisses.

"Not if you're quiet," I say.

He snorts.

"Want me to stop?" I ask, rubbing my thumb along the underside of his hard cock in his sexy underwear. I haven't seen these before, but Oakley's right—I like them a lot.

"Fuck," he curses. "No, I don't want you to stop."

Scooching his ass a little closer to me, I find the back of the underwear are open. Just like a jock, but they're not quite the same. Oh! It's a thong.

Fucking hell. I groan and move the bit of fabric out of the way.

I love to press my fingers into his hole. Mostly, I love to watch his face when I do. I can't see that right now, so I watch his dick instead as I toy with him. He's so tight. So small. It's a pretty hole which I find funny because… it's a damn asshole. What could possibly be pretty about it? But it is. Because it's Oakley's.

With a bit of lube rubbed in, I press my finger inside him. His body tenses, jerks slightly, and then relaxes. His dick enjoys this. It also jumps and twitches. There's a growing wet spot at the crown.

When I get my finger in deep, he lets out a ragged breath. Fingering him is fun. Everything with him is fun. I'm not even sure what my favorite part is. I move the front of his underwear out of my way and then add a second finger.

Oakley trying to stifle the sounds he makes is heady. Watching his cock's response to the way I'm slowly fingering him is like a movie. I didn't know dicks could be so expressive. When he really likes something, I'm rewarded with a bead of pre-cum.

When that bead is dripping down his length, I've had enough playing around and bring him into my mouth. Sucking dick is weird. Part of that is mental. Like, I know what this thing is used for. I know where it's been and what it goes through all too well.

It's a strange kind of hard. A soft kind of hard, like you can squeeze it and meet only the resistance of how thick he is. Then there's the way the skin moves over the erectile inside. And don't get me started on how these things can start as the size of a green bean and grow into an eggplant. I'm not even being pun-y.

I've not spent a lot of time contemplating dick in my life. Only once Oakley looked at mine and licked his lips that first time did it ever occur to me to wonder how I might measure up to other dicks he's come in contact with. I've since done some research and I've decided I'm most definitely somewhere around average.

Since then, I've also been thinking about the toys I've seen in his nightstand. Those were not average. They were very big.

Speaking of big, Oakley is bigger than I anticipated him being. I've seen a lot of memes that claim twinks have the biggest dicks because they're the least likely to as far as romanticized images of men are concerned. When I asked Oakley if he considered himself a twink, he giggled for twenty minutes but yes, he does.

Which makes sense that his dick is bigger than average. My jaw is already aching as I suck on him. I don't think he's giant. I've now been self-educated in cock shapes and sizes since getting naked with Oakley.

However, sucking dick is a strange art that I'm not sure I've mastered. Most of the time, I'm just playing with his dick in my mouth because, quite frankly, it's a very strange turn of events for me. I'm not sure how to feel about it.

I give Oakley's cock a suck and he coughs. His hands reach under the table and pull my face away. "Stop," he hisses.

Backing away, I lick my lips and watch as he scrambles to pull up his pants. Then he's sliding the chair back and he ducks his head down. He's looking a little frazzled. "Come with me," he says, swiping the lube from the floor.

He's already practically running, so I have to hurry to catch up. When he pushes the stairwell door open, I think we're going to stop there, but he's racing up the stairs. I stay on his heels and find myself in a small room with a table and a few padded chairs.

Oakley shuts the door, wedges a chair under the handle and turns out the light. There's a transom window that lets in light, and my man is looking a little haggard. He scowls at me, but turns and presses his back against the wall.

"Get on your knees," he whispers.

I drop in front of him, grabbing for his pants as I do. Oakley steadies himself with his hands on the wall as I resume what I was doing with a fresh dollop of lube on my fingers. This time, I suck him with everything in me.

He groans, making these sexy as sin choking sounds. His hands grip my hair as he bends over. Since he seems to need help staying upright, I press my free hand into his chest. His body slides down the wall a bit and the next thing I know, he has my fingers in his mouth.

I look up and fucking shit, the look on his face has my entire body burning. I've never seen someone so wrecked. It's a giddy feeling knowing I did that to him.

However, when he starts sucking my fingers, his teeth biting in, it goes straight to my balls and I groan around his cock. He mumbles around my fingers and I think I might get off just like this. Who knew this could be so sexy?! My head spins when he sucks on them some more, seemingly directly correlating to when I'm sucking him.

I feel it like his mouth is around my sac.

Then his hand tightens in my hair, his hips buck forward making his dick lodge in my throat, and he cries out around my fingers as he comes. The hot release fills my mouth, but I'm choking around his cockhead, so it basically comes back out all over him.

Oakley's shaking when he drops into my arms. His sudden fall causes me to fall backward and we end up in a heap against the legs of the table, laughing.

"We need to go home," he pants. "I have an idea."

"Does it involve your cock because I'm all for this idea."

He grins and shakily gets to his feet, pulling his pants up. "Let's go."

There's no way we don't look like exactly what we'd been doing. I wipe my face on the back of my hand, but when Oakley looks at me once we've gathered his books and we're on our way to check them out, he stops in his tracks and laughs. His face is bright red.

With the bottom of his shirt, he wipes my face. "You look like you've just been given a facial."

"I'm fine with that," I admit, but let him clean me up. I love the way he's smiling at me right now. His blush. His smile is breathless, amused, and soft.

There's something about this moment that takes my breath away.

Oakley bows his head and drops his shirt. "We need to get home."

I take his books once he's checked them out and then we walk the few miles back to my house. He's focused, so he bypasses my brothers when we make our way through the front door and practically runs up the stairs.

"What did you do?" Imry asks.

"I got a facial," I say, shrugging and following my boyfriend to my room. My brothers sputter with laughter downstairs.

"You did not just say that," Oakley groans as he shuts the door and locks it behind me. He's always making sure the door is locked. Guess he doesn't want to take the chance on someone walking in while he's on my dick again.

I shrug. "It has multiple meanings."

He huffs and takes the books from me. "Take your clothes off, Loren."

Watching him set the books on the desk I moved in here for him and then propping one open, I strip down until I'm naked. He turns as he takes his clothes off too. "Get on your knees with your back against the desk."

I do and look up at him.

Oakley shivers. "You have no idea how hot it is to see you like this."

"Why?"

He shakes his head. "I don't know. You're just… sexy. Possessive and kind of crazy, but you're on your knees for me."

"I'll do anything to make you happy."

The smile on his face makes his eyes shiny. He moves forward, his not quite hard dick in his hand. "I want you to suck me but not suck . Just… keep me in your mouth and… like light pressure? Does that make sense?"

I nod.

He hands me the lube. "Fingers in my ass too. I don't want to get off. I just want to feel you while I study. Okay?"

"Yep."

Oakley stands over me and I take his dick into my mouth again. We spend a minute adjusting because of the height. Then I cover my cock in lube for a comfortable slow jerk before sticking my lubed fingers back in his ass.

I listen to his breathing and keep my mouth firmly locked around his growing cock. I suck, but more like one might on a pacifier. Gentle. Rhythmic.

His breathing is heavy. His legs shake. I work my fingers in deeply and pull them out again. Oakley moans.

"Wait," he says as he pushes away. I let him go and watch as he looks around the room. "Over here."

Picking up his book, he heads for the bed and drops it, pointing to the edge for me. Once more, I take my position and we resume. I press into his body again and he groans.

"God you feel good, Loren," he murmurs. "I love to feel you."

I rub my tongue along the underside of his cock as I softly suckle on his dick. He's hard now. Hard and leaking.

Oakley makes a frustrated sound and stands back again. I can see the irritation in his eyes when I look up at him.

"What do you need?" I ask.

"A comfortable position for this. I know what I want, but I don't know how to make it happen." There's frustrated tears in his eyes.

Getting up, I press my lips to his. "Get on the bed."

Oakley nods and climbs on. I prop his books against the pillows and then join him, arranging one of the pillows under his head. Bringing him onto his side, I curl between his legs, the top one over my shoulder.

For the third time since getting home, I take his dick in my mouth and press two fingers into his ass.

He moans. "Yes," he moans, both in relief and pleasure. "Just like that. Perfect."

I smile and close my eyes, sucking on him and playing with his hole. He seems content enough, so I lose myself in the moment until he says, "Three fingers, Loren. Please."

I fumble for the lube and then do as he wants. He groans, his hips rocking gently against me.

"Good," he mutters breathlessly. "So good. Keep going, okay?"

Nodding, I settle again and let him study while I give him all the muted gratification he wants.