17. Nelly

Chapter 17

Nelly

I could still feel the pleasant ache between my legs as I sat in the living room, staring at the television while a trashy reality show about people being obsessed with fish played. Matty breathed softly on the couch beside mine, a blanket wrapped tight around him while he took his early afternoon nap, and I had nothing to do while Seb worked out upstairs but watch people squeal in excitement as they sank below the surface in an aquarium tank or just… think.

And it was so, so easy to think, and so, so easy to fall back into what happened last night.

Every bit of it, from the way he’d moved the moment I stepped through the door crying like a fucking mess, to the way he’d spoken with me on a human level about what I’d gone through and what had happened between him and Matty’s mom, felt like a hazy dream that I never wanted to end. I wanted to live in it, get lost in it, stay in it for as long as I physically could.

And the way he’d touched me…

Nothing had ever felt like that before. Of all of the times I’d had sex in my life, no one and nothing had ever come close. No one had touched me like that, no one had cared that much about how I felt, no one had put themselves through pain to better my experience. No one had spoken to me like that.

I dreamed of the way you’d feel when you came around my cock. Even remembering it sent a shiver up my spine.

It was dangerous when he’d told me to kiss him. I could have left, could have walked out the door and told him it was out of the question because he was my employer and we had to consider the munchkin sleeping soundly not ten feet from me, but I didn’t. And I’d make that choice again.

What did that mean for me? What did that mean for Sebastian?

Matty was worming his way into my heart, and I didn’t want to consider the possibility of it meaning I couldn’t do my job anymore — not that I thought Sebastian would think so, but if it was called into question, I didn’t know what I’d do. I didn’t want another gig.

My phone buzzed in the pocket of my jeans, over and over, and I slipped it out.

What… the fuck?

I scrambled off the couch as quickly and quietly as I could, slipped through to the kitchen, and answered just before it went to voicemail.

I lifted the phone to my ear and didn’t say a word. I had no idea if this was a butt dial or purposeful, and I didn’t want to embarrass myself by answering and shouting from the depths of her pocket. But her voice filtered through after a couple of seconds of silence, and panic forced the bile to rise in my throat.

“Hello? Nelly?” Ruby said .

“Uh, hi,” I answered hesitantly. “I’m, um, at work, so if this isn’t important?—”

“I can make it quick!” she chirped, that same bubbly voice that I hadn’t heard in over a year feeling like a knife to the chest. “I just wanted to reach out and let you know that Morris and I are getting married, and we’re doing a final headcount for the wedding. It’s next month, on the thirtieth. Did you want to come?”

Next month. What… what?

“Hello? Earth to Nelly,” she giggled.

“Sorry, uh, where is the venue?”

“About an hour north of Atlanta! Out by the national forest, the one I can’t pronounce. We’d love it if you came.” The tinny sound of a male voice was barely audible in the background, but I knew the tenor of it, knew it like the back of my hand. It was Morris.

I wasn’t sure if it was the panic, the suddenness, or the overwhelming urge to prove to myself and them that I was okay now and unphased by all of it, but the words I never wanted to say flew from my mouth before I could think them through. “Of course, I’ll come.”

“Oh! That’s… that’s great! I’ll get an invite sent out to you. Can you text me your address?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

“Do you need a plus one, or…?”

Well, that’s a fucking loaded question.

It was stupid. Absolutely, ridiculously stupid, and I regretted it the moment I said it — but goddammit, I couldn’t let them think I was sad and alone. I couldn’t let them think I was struggling or tarnished or spoiled goods.

“If there’s space, I’d love to bring my boyfriend, but don’t make any extra accommodations or anything if you can’t swing it,” I said .

Idiot. Fucking idiot.

As if my life was the goddamn Truman Show and everything was played up for laughs, a deep little snicker came from the direction of the stairs, and I spun on a dime.

Sebastian leaned over the staircase's banister in his T-shirt and shorts, eyes locked firmly on mine as he took a bite of his apple. He grinned at me, mischief swirling in his eyes as a single curl of damp black hair fell over his brow.

“We can definitely allow for that,” Ruby said. “I’ll text you the details. You just send me your address and we’ll mark you down. So excited to see you!”

My stomach churned uncomfortably. “Yeah, uh, you too.”

The call disconnected and I dropped the phone from my ear, watching as Seb sauntered down the stairs again with far too much smug swagger for someone with a sore knee.

“You know, usually, two people sit down and have a conversation before deciding what they are to each other,” Seb chuckled, slipping into the kitchen with far too much grace and sidestepping me.

“I didn’t?—”

“I know. I put it together fairly easily. I’m just teasing you.” Seb leaned against the counter, not even a hint of knee pain evident in his stance or face, and took another crunchy bite from his green apple. I didn’t know what it was, but it was as if every muscle was at attention, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was just because he’d worked out or if he was trying to tempt me.

Either way, I still wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“Just so I’m absolutely sure, that was… what was his name? Moriarty? ”

I glared at him. “Morris. He’s not the evil villain from Sherlock Holmes. And no, it wasn’t Morris, it was Ruby.”

His nose scrunched up as he chewed at another bite. “Oh, that’s even worse. And she invited you to the wedding?”

I nodded.

“Hmm.” His eyes darted around me in the quiet, looking off toward the living room as the sound of someone getting overly excited about what I could only imagine was getting to pet a fish filtered over to us. “What is…?”

“Please don’t ask. Something to do with people who are obsessed with fish.”

“O…kay,” he chuckled, dragging his gaze back to me. He seemed so much lighter today, so much happier , and I wasn’t sure if it was just because of last night or if it was because he didn’t feel a need to hold back around me anymore. “I’ll be your boyfriend for the wedding.”

I blinked at him, shock firing off neurons in my brain. “You can’t do that.”

“I absolutely can,” he said around a mouthful.

“No, you really can’t ,” I insisted. “Morris is a hockey fan. He probably knows who you are.”

Seb snorted, coughing up the food I imagined got lodged in his throat from his laughter. “That just makes it ten times better. Let me make the little shit feel small, he deserves it.”

I glared at him and pulled open the fridge, plucking my glass of juice I’d abandoned in it earlier out. “He’s basically as tall as you.”

“Yeah, but is he a hockey player?”

“Well, no?—”

“Is he as strong as me? ”

“No—”

“Did he fuck you as well as I do?”

Juice entered my nose and poured out my nostrils, burning every step of the way as my surprised snort turned into a snot fest. I covered my nose and mouth and frantically set the glass down on the counter, but Sebastian was already moving, already laughing like a madman, while he pulled off sheets of paper towels and passed them to me.

“Is it safe to assume from that reaction that your answer is also no ?” he asked, a shit-eating grin spreading his cheeks wide as I coughed up the last of the orange juice.

“You’re insane,” I clipped, hocking up orange-juice-tainted phlegm into the sink and feeling the least sexy I’d probably ever felt. He patted my back reassuringly, and if he wasn’t made of literal stone beneath his so-called muscles, I would’ve punched him square in the chest.

“Maybe,” he smirked. “But the answer is…?”

“No, he didn’t fuck me as well as you do,” I mumbled. “Are you happy?”

“Over the moon.” He tucked a stray strand of my hair behind my ear as I wiped my nose with the towels, and I glared at him. “You’ll just have to figure out a way to repay me for my oh-so-generous offer to accompany you.”

“Daddy?”

Seb offered me a quick wink before slipping shockingly easily back into Dad Mode.

————

I didn’t even have to consider sneaking into the house tonight.

I’d thought about it as I showered, wondering if I would look insane showing up the night immediately after and basically begging for him to teach me something, anything, else. I wasn’t sure what the lesson in his teaching had been last night besides speaking up if I needed something, but he was so absurdly good at picking up on the cues that I hadn’t needed to ask for much at all.

But I’d take whatever he’d give me if it meant he’d touch me again.

And as I paced along the foot of my bed, a towel wrapped around my body and my hair dripping, my phone in hand and my text messages with Seb pulled up in case I found a backbone to actually work up the nerve, a knock sounded at the glass doors in the living room.

As much as I wanted to assume he’d shown up here to teach me again, I tried to consider the possibility that he was after anything else — a hammer, a nail, milk, orange juice, a chat, anything. But as I made my way to the living room and saw him standing on the other side of the door, one hand on the handle and the other in the pocket of his loose pajama bottoms, the smirk that lifted his lips the moment he saw me told me he wasn’t here for any of that.

Butterflies took off in my gut as I hastily crossed the room and flipped the latch on the door. He slid it open.

His hair was air-dried and unstyled, a little mess of brown curls and waves, his cheeks clean-shaven. I wanted to reach out and touch them and drag my fingers along his jawline, but I wasn’t sure where the line was and when it was okay to cross it.

“I wanted to clarify that I’m not actually expecting any kind of repayment from you,” he chuckled, “but it seems like you already prepared for that.”

My cheeks heated as he looked me up and down, my damp hair twisted and hanging limply over one shoulder. “I want to repay you.”

He leaned back on the glass door, one hand coming out to cup my cheek and lift my face from my chin. “And what exactly was your plan?”

I chewed the words in my mouth, trying to get them to take shape, but they failed me. I’d practiced it my entire shower — but now my pitch was lost on a dead tongue.

“Come on, Penelope, you were doing so well at using your words last night.” His thumb brushed against my lower lip, dragging it left to right, and my heart rate picked up, spiking as he hooked a hand around my waist and pulled me into him. “Tell me.”

I swallowed down the worry and forced my mouth to move. “I want you to teach me what you like,” I said, my voice feeling small and weak in comparison to his unending confidence.

“I liked everything we did last night,” he mused, sliding his hand around to the front of my body and playing with the edge of the white towel.

“You know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

“Seb,” I groaned in frustration, placing a hand against his chest to playfully push him before realizing there was literally nowhere for him to go except through a glass door. “I’m sure there are… things you like that we didn’t do last night.”

He rolled his eyes, his fingers snaking up the edge of the towel to where I’d tucked it in above my breasts. “Of course there are,” he relented. “But those aren’t things I’d expect of you. I get the majority of my pleasure from pleasing you.”

I dragged my hand down his chest, the feeling still a little foreign, but I came to a stop just above the waistband of his pajama bottoms. “But without that,” I swallowed, hooking my fingers on the elastic, “what do you like?”

He let out a breathy chuckle, his thumb catching my lip again and rubbing it against my teeth. “Your mouth,” he said, his voice gravely as his eyes followed the movement of my lip. “Both in the way you speak to me, and the way your tongue would feel.”

That was the one thing I was somewhat confident about with regard to my skills.

Morris had never complained about that aspect in particular, and from the number of times he’d had me drop to my knees for him, I could only assume it was the one thing I was good enough at to keep him coming back time and time again.

“But I don’t want you to do that for me unless it genuinely excites you,” Seb clarified. “If you’re wanting to only because you think it’ll make me happy, it won’t. I don’t want you doing something just for me if you get nothing out of it.”

I shook my head, taking his hold with me. “I want to because the idea of doing something for you is exciting.” He raised a single brow and pushed off from the glass, forcing me to walk backward toward the couch behind me. “ Fine , it turns me on. Happy?”

“As a fuckin’ clam,” he smirked.

His mouth met mine while he kept us moving backward, his hand splaying out on my cheek and keeping me flush against his lips. Step by step, I went, until my knees hit the edge and he helped me regain my balance, until he urged me down onto the cushion, until he loomed over me, his shirt halfway up his chest, his unwillingness to stop kissing me the only thing standing in the way of getting it off him.

“Toys,” he grunted against my lips. “Where?”

“Bedroom,” I answered, parting just enough to finally get his shirt up and over his head. Christ , just looking at him, seeing every bit of well-earned muscle and mass, it was like he was carved from fucking stone, like myths should be made of him. It was insane.

He growled his disapproval to have to part, and before I could protest and insist that hands were more than enough, he was pulling his warmth away and stalking off to the bedroom.

Oh, God.

He’d see them all if he looked.

“Seb!” I shouted, scrambling off the couch in my towel and losing it on the journey. I dashed for the doorway, but by the time I was able to catch up, he was standing by the edge of the bed with the nightstand’s drawer fully open.

He looked at me over his shoulder, a sneaky little smirk tugging his lips up. Heat warmed my cheeks and between my thighs instantly. “ Someone ’s got a collection.”

I gulped. “I went through a phase?—”

“Which one’s your favorite, Nelly?” he grinned, his hand ducking into the drawer and lifting out what was definitely the girthiest, longest dildo out of the nine I had — the one I was positive was about the same size as him. “Is it this one?”

In response to my utter silence, he tossed it onto the bed in my direction.

“Wand or suction?” he asked .

Oh, my God, I wanted to die. “There’s… uh, there’s one that hooks?—”

He huffed out a laugh. “I see it.” His hand disappeared again, and I swallowed the overproduction of saliva in my mouth as he pulled out the little C-shaped vibrator. “You’re going to fucking melt.”

Before I could reply, he tossed it on the bed and shut the drawer, stepped toward me, and stopped on top of the plush carpet at the end of the bed.

“If you’re so eager to touch me,” he started, his voice dropping low as he wrapped a hand around the back of my neck, “then get on your knees, Penelope.”

He pushed down, putting pressure on the top of my right shoulder with his forearm, and I followed his lead without a second thought. My knees hit the carpet and I looked up at him, tracking every little movement as he squatted down in front of me like he often did with Matty.

But the way he was looking at me was so beautifully, perfectly different.

“What happened to your towel, Nelly?” he mused. His fingertips brushed against the underside of my breast, sending little sparks of heat rippling across my skin and sinking lower, lower, lower . My breath hitched as my pussy clenched around nothing , the need for stimulation swarming me and making me ache. “Were you just so excited that you left it behind?”

I swallowed. “Something like that.”

He huffed out an amused breath and played with the wet hair at the base of my skull, his fingers twisting in it. “Spread your knees for me,” he said, dropping the hand that had been exploring my chest down to my left thigh. “Sit on your heels.”

I shimmied them apart and sat back on my heels, trying to control the slightly erratic rise and fall of my chest as he lifted himself back up to his full height. On instinct, my mouth opened, eager for whatever he’d give me to put in it — but all he did was smirk and gently tap the side of my face before turning his attention to the bed.

And what he’d put on it.

“Have you used these two together?” he asked, picking up the little C-shaped vibrator and inspecting the end that clearly went inside. It wasn’t thick — it was enough to hold it in place, but not so much that it would get in the way.

The smallest, slowest-moving rivulet of moisture moved along my vulva, sending a shiver up my spine. I almost didn’t want to answer him, almost didn’t want to admit it. “Yeah,” I croaked.

He held it out to me as an offering, one brow raising almost as if he were daring me. I took it. “Put it in for me,” he said, picking up the clear silicone with his other hand. What is he going to have me do? “And don’t turn it on yet.”

My trembling hands struggled to get a firm enough grasp on the little vibrating toy, but I slid the insertable portion between my thighs, shuddering as it passed over my clit. I needed to be touched so goddamn badly, and even as I slipped it inside of me, the temptation to ignore his request and press the little power button raged. The inner hook held it in place, and I took a moment while Seb settled in front of me to make sure the best part of it sat directly on top of my clit.

His fingers pushed the hair from my face, coming to rest on the top of my head as he forced it back gently. He looked so tall from down here — he was tall to begin with, but this was just another level. “Open your mouth again,” he said, his digits tightening around the silicone in his right hand.

My lips popped open, and on instinct, my tongue darted out to cover my bottom teeth. I wrapped my hands around the back of his thighs, eager to show him what I knew damn well I could do, but the moment his hand moved and I thought he was going for the waistband of his joggers, the clear dildo appeared in front of my eyes.

“Turn the other one on, Penelope. Lowest setting,” Seb said, his voice far deeper than it was before. I glanced up at him, and those wide eyes had softened exceptionally, and all that was left in its place were half-lidded, barely visible blue irises that watched me with bated breath. “And show me, with this , exactly what you want to do to me.”

Dear God. He wants a fucking show.

My heart pounded in my chest as I removed my hands from him. One slipped between my thighs to press the button, and I didn’t dare to turn up the intensity — he wanted it low to tease me, that much was clear. I wrapped the other around the base of the silicone cock, my fingers brushing against his as he held it in place just in front of my face.

I did exactly what he asked. Within reason.

He wanted a show, so I gave him a show. Instead of taking it fully in my mouth and moving my tongue, I dragged my tongue along the underside of the fake tip instead, displaying to him what I wanted to do with it inside of my mouth. I swirled it, stroked the length with my hand, and refused to close my lips over it so he could see exactly what I was doing.

“God,” he grunted, closing his fist in the hair at the top of my head. His cheeks turned pink, and behind the hand that held his pseudo-cock, the bulge in his joggers was becoming impossible not to notice. “Right there, where your tongue is. That feels the best for me.”

“Right here?” I rolled my tongue against it, teasing it with the tip and softening the intensity with the flattest part after.

“Yeah,” he rasped.

Courage hissed at me to go further. “What about this?” I asked, closing my lips around it and removing my hand, wrapping it around his wrist instead. I raised up a little on my knees, giving myself a bit more space to work, and moved my mouth down, down, down the silicone, feeling it press against the back of my throat. It wasn’t quite as easy with something less malleable, but I closed my eyes and focused, extending my neck. One little swallow and my throat opened, and the second it slid in further, a choked little noise rang out from Sebastian.

“Fucking hell, Nelly,” he croaked, his hand holding painfully still on both my head and the toy. “Yes, that. That. ”

I couldn’t get all the way to the base, not with that one, and I probably couldn’t with him either, but I could get damn far. I looked up at him, my eyes beginning to water, and pulled back on a choked gag, freeing myself from it entirely. Little strings of saliva connected me to it, but I didn’t care — I grinned up at him. I’d trained that over the years for Morris and had barely tried since, and the satisfaction of knowing I could still do it was enough to give me confidence in this specifically.

“Up on your knees. Now ,” he ordered. There was a shift in him, something more urgent, more primal, taking hold and stirring within. His erection was impossible to hide, now, pressing angrily against the left leg of his joggers, and my mouth watered more at the thought of getting to do what I’d just done to him instead.

I rocked forward off my heels and lifted to the full height my knees would allow, digging them into the carpet. Seb squatted down again, his lips parted, his mouth just an inch from mine, and something damp and room temperature pressed against my entrance.

“Sit back, baby,” he rasped. His eyes held mine, daring me, demanding me, and I lowered my hips enough for the bottom of the dildo to sit on the carpet, the tip of it just barely inside of me. His nostrils flared. “That’s it. Sink down on it.”

He released it beneath me as I sunk half an inch, my mouth opening just enough to release a high-pitched little moan. The sensation was almost overwhelming — the size of it coupled with the little bit of sensation I was already receiving inside and out set my nerves on fire, but then I felt him, felt the ghost of his fingertips across sensitive skin, felt the brief extra pressure of the vibrator against my clit.

He turned it up.

And up.

And up .

God, I wouldn’t last long like that. Not when I was sinking further onto the dildo, taking half of it, two-thirds, shit , all of it. I couldn’t stop the moans, couldn’t stop myself from reaching for him, kissing him, needing him.

“Seb, I can’t?—”

“You can,” he said, tightening his grip on my hair once again as he pushed himself to stand upright again. His free hand dipped into his joggers and pulled the waistband down, freeing his length in one quick motion as the elastic fell to his thighs. I almost reached out and pulled them the rest of the way down, the need to drag my fingers along those bare trunks of muscle almost maddening. “I want you full from both ends, Penelope.”

I nodded my agreement.

He was so hard. So, so impossibly hard, the slightly darker skin pulled taut around every inch of length and girth he had to offer. The tip, bulging and pink and demanding, glistened and dripped with clear precum that I was desperate to taste. I wanted all of it. Anything he’d give me.

He lifted his cock, one finger pointing out the same spot on him that I’d teased with my tongue on the dildo. “Feels best here,” he said, tapping gently on the thin skin. “And everywhere along the underside.”

I lifted my hand to him, waiting until he moved his out of the way so I could wrap my fingers around it. So warm, so rigid , and he twitched in my grasp, that drop getting larger and threatening to fall off.

I couldn’t wait any longer.

I lifted myself, the silicone sliding halfway out of me and dragging a shuddering moan from me again, and darted my tongue out across his tip, tasting every bit of what he was making.

Oh, fuck.

It was sweet. Sweet, with a hint of saltiness, and I wanted more, wanted it coating my mouth, but I gave him what he was clearly craving instead.

I closed my mouth around him and dragged my tongue across that specific little spot, and the sound he made was so obscene, so delightfully sinful that I wished I’d recorded it so I could play it on a loop anytime I touched myself. Just from that, I could feel the hint of my release building in my gut, and I forced myself to focus, to pull my hand up and down his length as I played with him.

“Christ, that’s—that’s perfect, baby,” he rasped, his now-free hand cupping my cheek instead. “You’re fucking perfect.”

The need for more pushed me further, and I took more of him into my mouth, coating my tongue in the little bit of precum he leaked as my tongue slid over the underside of his cock. I pulled back, pushed forward, pulled back, pushed forward, bringing my hand along with me to cover the bases I wasn’t.

Seb struggled to keep steady as he watched me, his eyes locked on every little movement I did, meeting mine when I hazarded a glance up at him. I built further, teetering, moaning around his length, and coming up for air when it was a little too much to control.

“Seb, I?—”

“Fuck yourself on the toy,” he ordered, dragging his thumb across my lower lip and moving the saliva around. “I want you to come with my cock in your mouth. Understand?”

I nodded and opened up again, letting him invade my space as I moved my hips, grinding down against the length of the dildo beneath me. I tried to focus on keeping my teeth out of the way, tried to make my tongue do exactly what he wanted, but I was losing the fight and rocketing toward an orgasm I couldn’t stop.

I pushed myself further, pushed Seb to the back of my throat, stroked him with my tongue. And just there, just as I felt everything coil inside of me and tighten, I swallowed, opening myself up, and the feel of him filling every bit of available space in my throat as I pushed him impossibly further sent me over the goddamn edge.

I broke, and my moan vibrated around him, dragging those debaucherous noises from him again as pleasure swept across every inch of my body. I couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything more than feel every sensation around me, and in his need, he pushed me that little bit further. He pulled himself from my throat and pushed forward again, asking me silently to do it again, to take him again, to let him go further.

I did.

Over and over, I let him, keeping my gag reflex under control. He took it slowly, giving me room to breathe as I writhed beneath him, and on the tenth or so time he’d managed to slip in further than he should have, he got me all the way to the base.

I can still do it.

I wrapped my hands around his thighs, gripping him, digging my fingers in the moment he went to pull back. I still had enough air, still had the ability to stay on, and even with every uncontrollable urge to gag and spit him out, I wanted to push myself.

“Good fucking girl,” Seb said, the words reverberating in his chest and coming out as deep as a growl.

The vibrator hummed mercilessly against my sensitive clit, daring me to come again so soon, and just as that tipped into uncontrollable territory, I pulled back completely. Thick saliva connected us and I dragged my hand over him, spreading it, using it as lube as I caught my breath and struggled not to erupt into yet another orgasm. “Fuck me,” I begged. “Please, I’m—I want to come again, I want to come because of you.”

He nodded hastily and dropped to his knees, wrapping a single arm around my waist to hoist me up high enough that the dildo slipped out of me. It was slightly less maddening, but I was still there, still almost at the edge, still writhingly desperate and seconds from losing it.

He pushed me back down and onto the plush carpet, forcing me down until I was lying back with the vibrator still going relentlessly inside and out. He didn’t waste time with his hands or his mouth — he got my legs up and over his shoulders in record time and pressed his cock into me without a second’s hesitation.

All the way into me.

“Fuck, come here,” he rasped, leaning over me with one hand beside my head to take his weight. The other grabbed ahold of my jaw, and then he was kissing me, prying my mouth open with his, exploring every bit of it as his hips began to move.

I could have sworn I was seeing entire fucking galaxies behind my eyelids.

His mouth moved sloppily, desperately against mine as he drove into me, stretching me just a little bit more than the silicone had, and I couldn’t take it anymore — everything closed down, every bit of willpower I had exploded into nothingness as my second orgasm crashed through me like lightning, unyielding and uncontrollable.

My nails dug into his chest and his mouth caught the majority of the shrieking sound ripping from me. My hips bucked into his on their own, and he tumbled after me almost immediately, breaking from the kiss and burying his head in the crook of my neck instead as his cock drove into me with reckless abandon. “ Yes , Nelly,” he croaked.

A second later and more warmth spread out inside of me from the tip of his twitching cock, and I could feel it leaking out, could feel it dripping over my rear. He slowed, and then stopped, his hand frantically searching for the little button on the vibrator but failing. He pulled it out of me instead, freeing me from the overstimulation torture.

But he didn’t leave. He stayed seated inside, his body over mine, his breathing heavy and fanning across my collarbones. “God, you didn’t need a lesson for that, did you?” he laughed, the sound wheezy and exhausted as he dropped the toy onto the carpet. His hand came to my side, and he gently dragged his fingers up and down, from the space beside my breast to the bottom of my thigh and back again.

“I still learned things,” I breathed, biting back the little grin as a shiver shook me. “I learned what spots you like touched. I learned that you love my throat. I learned what your precum tastes like, even if I didn’t get to taste the real deal.”

He chuckled as he pulled himself from my neck, lifting himself just high enough to look down at me. His cock twitched inside of me, pressing all of those spots again, and I couldn’t help but sigh at the sensation. “You wanted to taste that?”

My cheeks heated. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. “Is that weird?”

He pressed a single kiss against my lips, his pleasure-drunk grin only widening. “Not weird. It's a little surprising, but only because some girls don’t like that. Equally valid.”

“I’ve never really been one way or the other.” I shifted just enough for him as he slowly slid out from me. The emptiness I felt immediately almost had me begging him to stay inside. “I just… I don’t know, with you , I want that.”

Shut up, Nelly. You’re going to say something stupid.

“You make me want to try everything,” I breathed, and yep , I’d been correct. That was stupid.

His eyes flicked between mine, the little line between his brows deepening. For a horrifying moment, I worried I’d freaked him out, worried I’d said the worst possible thing I could have somehow and that our stupid little lessons would be cut short here and now, and he’d never touch me again.

But he proved me wrong when he kissed me .

He proved me wrong when his fingers dragged across my sensitive, damp pussy.

He proved me wrong when he dipped them inside of me, just once, before lifting them up in front of my head, glistening from both clear and milky white fluid.

Heavy eyelids fluttered as he pressed two fingers to my lips. “Then taste me, Penelope.”