20. Mabel

" D on't make this weird," I said quietly, opening and closing the kitchen cupboards, looking for a glass. A goddamn glass. It seemed Jonny Templar only owned crystal whisky lowballs. "Just bringing some water to bed. An old habit—my dad always used to bring me a glass of water at bedtime, made sure I took a sip before going to sleep. Didn't want me dehydrated in the morning."

"Your dad sounds nice."

"He is. A bit of a nutter, but then he raised me. No wonder."

"This chicken salad is really good."

"Doesn't distract from the fact that you had a bit of a boner going on there."

"And who was it said, ‘Don't make this weird'?" he said, his voice going high, as he threw the fork and empty tub in the sink.

"Don't worry. I was having a hot flush just staring at you."

"You made this chicken salad then?" He was trying, bless him. Trying to stay composed while leaning over—a classic move for hiding what was happening down below. I liked it. I really did.

"Yes," I replied, a little flustered because he was right. If anyone was making this weird, it was me. At the same time, I was happy, thrilled even, with how things were going. It had been far too long since I'd felt desired. Nobody ever desired me. I was the freak in the dress. The outcast. The—

"Not just a beautiful face." He was washing his hands, giving his face a wipe with the tea towel.

"I love to cook," I said, taking back control. I needed to get this all wrapped up and get us into bed. "I've done enough of it working in that hotel. I don't think there's a single job I haven't done down there. We're always short somewhere, and I've never shied away from grafting. I can clean a room faster than some of the best housekeepers. I can run the dishwashers, fry up anything, make sauces."

"I hope you know you can cook here as much as you want. I will eat anything you offer up."

"Even my cock?"

"Mabel!" He was blushing profusely but laughing too.

"We need to talk about these things. Get to know what you like so we go to bed not being terrified of each other's expectations. So…sex. What do you have in mind?"

He snorted, that blush gorgeous on his cheeks.

"I am woefully inexperienced in all this," he admitted, standing there, clothed yet naked, all his emotions on display.

For me.

I was blushing myself.

"Well, what are you into? We all have things that turn us on, as well as kinks."

"I…don't know."

I loved that he was shy. It made me brave. Braver than I actually was.

"Do you watch porn?"

"Doesn't everyone?" he mumbled, wringing his hands.

I took them, those soft hands of his, and scooped him up, holding him and rocking gently from side to side. This wasn't an easy conversation to have. In a club, under strobe lighting and thumping music, words were traded easily and plans were implied. Here, when it was just him and me, my face in his hair, his face in my neck, this gorgeous, gorgeous man, so strong, yet so bloody fragile.

He was mine, I decided there and then. I didn't care about the penthouse apartment or my distinct lack of funds. I absolutely didn't care that I was both jobless and homeless because I had this warm feeling in my heart that it wouldn't matter. That somehow…

"I spoke to my ex-husband today," I said quietly, hoping he was following where I was taking this.

"Didn't you tell me something about not bringing up family members when you're on the cusp of a new relationship?" he berated me gently, his words hitting somewhere near my collarbone.

"I did, and I'm breaking that rule, a one-time-only occurrence, I assure you. My ex-husband, who is a bit of an idiot but can be rather wise, told me I had to jump. And that if I didn't jump, he would push me. Knowing him, he'd pick me up and throw me off the next cliff he came to, but anyway. He's annoying because he's right. I have to jump off a bunch of different cliffs here, but this is one I need to jump off with you."

"The balcony door is still locked. Not jumping off anything."

I loved his silliness. The way he made me grin like an idiot.

"There are no set rules here. Let's just take things slow and steady. We can do whatever we want, but I do have some things I absolutely will not entertain."

"Same," he agreed, leaning out of my embrace so he could look at me.

"I get tested regularly. It's part of one of the therapy groups I run in conjunction with the local sexual assault clinic, where I take everyone to get tested to de-stigmatise the process. But, before you ask, I haven't been with anyone in the past…almost four years. Not even a kiss. I don't mess around, I don't hook up with people, and I certainly don't engage with strangers on nights out. Not anymore."

"Good to know," he said softly. "I hope you won't judge my past then. I used to pay a lot of money to an escort service to supply me with people to practise with. It never went very well."

"No judgement here."

"Thank you."

"I know I look like I'm a big total bottom and need a big bad top to sort me out, but Jonny, I'm really not, and that has caused all kinds of issues in the past, so I'm just throwing it out here. I don't bottom. I don't like it, never have, and that was part of why I cheated on my ex-husband. A lesson learned and a mistake I have no intention of repeating."

"I've…done the top thing," he stuttered out self-consciously, but he was still looking at me, and his hands were still in mine. "Not ever the other way around. Not really into…let me rephrase that. We're being truthful here, and I will honour that. I'm too chicken to try the bottoming thing, which leaves us with…a limited menu."

I had to take a breath. Wow. We were actually pretty good at this communication thing. But there was a time for talk and a time for action, so without further discussion, I dragged him into the bedroom, ripped that stupid T-shirt over his head, then I pushed him onto the bed, smiling as his behind bounced on the mattress.

The bed was still unmade, exactly how we'd left it this morning.

"I'm going to ask again." I ripped my vest off, dropped my joggers, standing in front of him with everything that I was. Jonny crawled backwards up the bed, his eyes pinned on me. "So you said you've watched porn?"

No fear. I didn't want him to have any of that. But I needed him to tell me where his limits lay. What kind of filth that turned him on, or if he was just as vanilla as his online presence had implied.

Prejudices were rife, even for someone like me.

"Those briefs are…beguiling," he whispered, his eyes slowly moving down to my crotch, the lace boxers made for people like me, ample in size and shaped for what they were designed to contain. I'd dressed appropriately this time. "You want to know what kind of porn I watch?"

"Yes." I slowly crawled up the bed, my knees on either side of him.

"Well, nothing too strange. Mostly gay scenes. I like…a certain body type. And I'm a total size queen."

That was one hell of an admission from the man who was half squirming, half so turned on he didn't know where to look. The way he was cupping his junk…hell, the sheer sight of him was making my cock swell.

Good grief, Mabel.

Jonny Templar was nothing like that freaking Time magazine cover. Nor did the pictures online do him any justice. With his strong shoulders, a nice amount of body hair, dark nipples that I traced with my fingertips as I lowered myself on top of him, he was just gorgeous.

A small whine came out of his mouth as my crotch gently rolled over his. He was hard. So was I. Well, sue me. Jonny Templar was mine. And I was…

"Fuck!" shot out of my mouth as he launched at me, one arm pinning me in place, the other trapped between us as we rolled, and then he was on top of me, hard tugs at my lips with his, his tongue licking up my cheek. He liked stubble. Well, I had plenty of it this evening. His movements were sharp, jerky with desperation. I knew it well, and I would give him what he needed. Whatever he wanted.

"Talk to me," I breathed. "Tell me what you need."

"Want…to touch you."

"Touch me, you can."

All that bullshit about not being a hugger? Apparently, I was an absolute slut for a hug as we rolled again, this time with my arms trapping him as I tried to take control of all this kissing and completely failed. He wanted to touch me? He could. I wanted that too.

I grabbed his hand and slammed it on my arse, and he immediately yanked at the lace, sliding inside to squeeze of my buttock, . I humped into his leg.

I needed more. Wanted all of it.

He seemed to have found some bravery, now back on top, one hand tugging at lace, pushing everything downwards as his mouth kissed bruises into my neck like he was claiming me, owning me.

He could have me. All of me. All of this, as long as…

Another gasp escaped me, almost loud enough to match his, as his fingers finally closed around my cock, his lips on my stomach.

"Please. Please. Please," I whined.

I hadn't been looked after like this for such a long time. Devoured, admired. His nose pushed into my small patch of pubes, long, drawn-out breaths coming from him as my fingers once more found their way into his hair, my head falling back against the pillow as my hips rose off the bed in anticipation, begging for anything. Honestly, anything. I would give him everything he asked for.

"Mabel," he whispered, his breath warm on my cockhead while his fingers stroked and squeeze my shaft, soft touches that drove me wild. "Make me do it."

And just those four small words? Fuck you, Jonny Templar.

I wriggled myself backwards so I could do this, his movements following mine, his eyes on mine as I settled against the headboard, the most incredible sight splayed out across my legs.

Oh God. Jonny. He'd be the death of me.

"Open your mouth," I encouraged softly.

Oh God, indeed. The blush on him. The way his lips trembled as his hand went straight down to his crotch. I hadn't even seen his cock yet, but just knowing he was playing with himself while I was pushing the head of my cock against his bottom lip, painting a thin line with the bead of wetness sitting prettily on my slit…

Not everyone was into all this. I was, and if I was reading him right, so was he. He needed this, and fucking hell, I needed it too.

Wetness now on my fingertip, I held it out for him to see. His breathing was all over the place as I smeared it onto his top lip, then gently placed my finger on his tongue.

"Lick it off, baby."

There was more wetness where that had come from, especially when he sucked my digit absolutely clean, let me go with a little pop, then looking up at me, opened his mouth and devoured me.

I had no idea what kind of porn he watched, but I definitely needed to upgrade my favourites if these kinds of things were on the menu. His jaw opened just a little wider as I put my hand on the back of his head, guiding him, my other hand giving my cock a few tugs.

Trust evolution to give the gay twink with the lipstick the giant monster cock. I'm not bragging, because it was too big for most people to handle—a lot of prep required, if I found anyone willing to give it a go.

It was too long to deep-throat, and the girth terrifying, far too wide for his mouth, even though he let me push the head in, his eyes closing in pleasure…as did mine. Oh God. Jonny. He was up on his knees now, trying to get the angle right, loud whiny breaths coming out of his nose as he used his tongue on me, his arm moving like a piston as he jerked himself off.

"Can you take it a little deeper?" I asked.

He let me go, turning to kiss my palm. "Make me do it."

Oh God. That delicious pain raced through me. I was close. Too bloody close.

Hand back on his head, I pushed down as I guided my dick back into the warmth, slowly, not too deep, giving him time to adjust before I pushed a little more.

"Good boy, you can do it. Feels so fucking good."

The words sat comfortably in my mouth, not that I was thinking any coherent thoughts. My body trembled as I pushed my cock a little further into that willing wetness, the sounds coming from him egging me on, my fingers gripping onto the hair at the back of his head, tugging. I was probably hurting him, my mind almost gone, sharp flashes everywhere as my muscles seemed to spasm.

And there it was. Hello orgasm, my old friend. The light overwhelmed every sense in my body and then there was darkness, and I roared.

And again.

He was still bobbing desperately, sucking me absolutely clean. Another spasm hit me, and I shouted out, no idea what I was saying.

And then he let me go.

The sound he made was brutal, raw, went straight to my bones, making my eyes shoot open as he held himself up and came all over my legs.

Him, me and all that we had created, right here. My cum running from the corner of his mouth, his cum all over his hand, on me, on the bed.

Then we were laughing, because what the fuck, universe?

"This thing about jumping," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before sitting back on his haunches, naked, right there next to my legs. "I thought about it, and you're right. It's time for me to jump too. You and me. Want to do this?"

"Yes," I whispered. I was too overwhelmed to say anything else.