Falling Under (16 page)

It’s the kind of thing she deserves to hear, the kind of thing I’d never thought I’d hear myself say, but yet my lips let the words tumble out, and I wonder who I’m becoming, here in this room with Kylie. I like him, this guy she brings out of me. I like the tenderness her sweet naked skin elicits in me. I’ve never been like this, never felt such intense emotions. Emotions I don’t want to burn away.
 

Now she’s spread out beneath me, her hair a fiery halo on my pillow, her eyes twin azure novae blazing and burning and piercing me with such innocent trust and not-so-innocent hunger and oh-so-seductive desire. I open the button of her jeans, keeping my eyes on her, watching for any slightest sign of demurral or refusal. There is none. Only willingness to help. She lifts her hips and lets me pull the skin-tight denim past her thighs, and her tongue runs over her lips, her eyes going wider than ever as her jeans join the pile of clothing beside my bed. God, she’s beyond perfect. Black panties to match her bra, a tiny scrap of lace and silk.
 

“God, Kylie. How am I supposed to breathe when you’re so beautiful?” I run my hands down her sides and over her hips, the generous curves so soft beneath my palms.
 

“Don’t have—don’t have to breathe,” she gasps. “I’ll breathe for us both.”
 

She clutches at my neck and pulls me down, and our mouths slam together, teeth clashing and tongues tangling, and her hands carve over my taut shoulders and down my back and I’m gone, lost, abandoned to the way she touches me, the way no one has ever touched me before. Her palms arc over my hard hips, and now she’s catching at the waistband of my boxers with hooked fingers. I choke on my own nerves, on my own desire to feel her touch me all over. Our breath is lost, drowned, halted. I pull away from the kiss and see her open eyes slipping down my chest, looking up at me briefly, then raking back down. She watches her fingers run around the elastic to stop an inch on either side of my navel. Her knuckles are against my skin, and I’m throbbing, aching. Her eyes meet mine again and I nod, knowing she’s asking, as I did. Her teeth catch her lower lip, bite down so the plump flesh turns white. I’m frozen in place, a statue, waiting for her. She takes a deep breath, and her chest swells. I feel the elastic move, and she’s pulling my boxers away from my waist, tugging them down. My heart pounds, and I’m truly nervous, afraid for this in a way I wasn’t my first time.
 

Shitshitshit. I’m exposed now, hard and thick and throbbing and aching and bare to her sight. I watch her eyes go round, flick up to mine and back down. I don’t move, don’t breathe. I want to know what she’s thinking, but words are completely impossible. My boxers are around my knees, so I lift up and kick them away, totally naked now. Never has nudity been so vulnerable. She sees the real me, all the way down into my soul, and I feel like all my flaws are on display. But her expression is one of wonder and surprise and a little hint of nerves.
 

“Holy shit.” She looks into my eyes, and I see that she’s unsure what to say. “I—you’re beautiful, Oz.” She blushes, and her eyes go back down to my cock. “Really beautiful.”

“Say anything, Kylie. Say everything. Embarrassing, crazy, weird, say it all.” I know there’s more inside her, things she’s not sure she should say.

“It’s bigger than I expected. I mean, I’ve seen pictures, and…videos. But you…here,
real
…it’s different.” Her eyes flick up to mine. “I’m going to touch you.”

“Okay.”
 

I’m on my hands and knees above her, and I watch her hand splay against the trail of hair at my navel, follow it down, and then she’s grasping me in her fist, her eyes wide and her lips parted slightly. Her hand is small and soft and pale against my skin, and she’s just holding me, her eyes going from my face to my cock. Then her fist slides down, and back up, and I’m the one shaking, trembling.
 

“God, Kylie. You don’t know how good that feels.”
 

She smiles at me. “I like the way you feel. Soft, but hard. Your skin is…hot. And
you’re
hot. All over.”

I have to remember to breathe. “You’d better stop, or this’ll be over all too soon.”

She just grins. “I wouldn’t care. I could just touch you. Feel you touch me. Kiss me. Hold me.”

But I’m not quite ready to embarrass myself that way, so I pull away, out of her grip, and grit my teeth, clamping down with all my strength. And then I lower my face to her flesh, kiss her ribs, down her side, to the elastic of her panties. Curl my fingers in the waistband and kiss her navel below it, going farther. She’s panting, making little sounds in her throat, and I want those tiny noises, want to hear them louder, so I peel her panties down around her hips, baring the upper swell of her cleft. As I touch her, she reaches out and takes my ponytail in her hand, slides the band off and shakes my hair loose. I feel even more naked with my hair down, for some reason. She runs her fingers through my hair, and again I’m rocked senseless by the gentle power of her touch. I nudge my face into her hand, kiss her palm, and then return my attention to her body. Her underwear is partly off, so I draw it down past her thighs, and she squeezes her legs together, eyes closing, nerves rampant in every tense line and curve of her body.
 

“Hey.” I let my hands roam up her torso to cup her breasts, and then up farther to brush her cheeks. “It’s okay. We can stop, if you—”

She shakes her head. “No! No. I’ve just…I’m just nervous.”

“Me, too,” I tell her.

She opens her eyes. Looks at me, swallows. “Take them off.”

I pull back and tug the black fabric past her knees, past her feet, and toss them aside. She blinks twice, hard, takes a deep breath, and forces her legs to relax. “You’re beautiful everywhere, Kylie.”
 

I put my hands on her thighs, just above her knees. Slide my palms forward, over the smooth curves of her thighs, nearing the apex, where she’s as lovely and perfect as everywhere else. Pale skin, taut and tight, plump lips damp with the moisture of desire, slight haze of curls, the same color as the hair on her head. She’s watching me, her hands curled into fists by her hips, clutching the sheet. I caress her thighs again, and then let my touch roam over her navel, down, down. She tenses, but her thighs remain apart, granting me access, letting me look and letting me touch. She wants this, I can see it in her eyes, but she’s nervous. I let my middle finger slide down her cleft, and she inhales sharply.
 

“Oh, god, Oz. Do that again.” Her eyelids flutter, lock on me. “Touch me again.”

I drag my middle finger down her crease again, feeling the slick wet essence coat my finger. I lie down beside her, on her left, so she’s between me and the wall. She’s gazing at me, reaches for my face and meets me for a kiss. As our tongues flick and slide, I dip my finger into her, eat her gasp of surprise and pleasure. My cock is brushing her hip, and she reaches between us, takes me in her hand, caresses me, and now it’s my turn to sigh and groan as her palm rolls over the tip, making me judder and push into her touch. I wet my finger in her juices and then slide the tip of my middle finger up to her clit and stroke around it, over it. She writhes as I do this, gasps into my mouth, and her grip on my cock tightens. I groan, and she loosens her fist. A circle, slow and deliberate, and then I slide my finger into her channel and explore her inner walls, bring my touch back to her clit, and circle again. This time, her hips lift in rhythm with the circular slide of my finger. Again, a little faster, and again, and now her mouth falls open away from mine and she’s moaning, lifting and writhing.
 

“Oz…Oz…god, that feels so good. It feels like…like I’m gonna—oh, shit, yes, just like that—like I could just go crazy. Blow up. Come apart.” She’s mumbling, rambling, and it’s so hot.
 

“Keep talking, Kylie. Tell me what you want. Tell me what you like.”

She runs a hand up her ribs and clutches her breast, fingers clawed into the supple flesh. “Kiss me here again.”

I lean over her and flick her nipple with my tongue, then gently saw my teeth across it. She gasps, arches, and I suckle her into my mouth. My finger is moving inside her, dipping and circling, keeping her hips writhing, slowing and speeding, and she’s gasping, groaning. But she’s not going over the edge, and there’s one more thing I want her to feel, one more way to make her go crazy and lose all control.

I kiss her ribs, her side, her hip, beneath her navel.

“Oz? What—what are you doing?” She sounds almost panicked.

“Remember when I said I’d kiss you everywhere?”

“Yeah?” she breathes.

 
“
Every
where.” I kiss the inside of her thigh, breathe out on her pale flesh, and then kiss the hot wet flesh of her cleft, and she whimpers.

“God, Oz. There? Oh, god.” Her hands curl into my hair, and I know she’s completely and totally sold to this, eager for everything and anything when she brushes my hair out of my face and holds it out of the way.
 

I lick between her lips, tasting her essence, and then lick again, stiffening my tongue to slide in, a slow penetration. Kylie groans, a low, protracted sound, and her fists tighten in my hair. I lick up her opening again and again, and each time she gasps or groans or whimpers. Then, with just the very tip of my tongue, I swirl around her clit, and she shudders violently. So close, so close. I reach up with one hand and explore her breast, find her nipple and roll it between my fingers, and now she’s shaking all over, her stomach tensed and her breathing ragged.

“I can’t—I can’t take it, Oz, it’s too much! I feel like I’m going to explode.
Fuck
, Oz! Don’t stop. Please…”
 

I glance up, and she’s got one hand in her own hair, pulling as she arches, and the other is cupping the back of my head, keeping me buried between her legs, as if I’d ever stop. I lick and circle, pinch and twist, and she’s bucking into me, moaning, and I feel her entire body shuddering, and yes, now, now, I feel her entire body lift off the bed and she’s shrieking loud through gritted teeth. Jesus fuck, she’s sexy when she comes. She lights up. Glows. And god, does she taste good. She shivers and judders with every swipe of my tongue, and finally she pushes me away, pulls me up, and I lie beside her, watching her tremble, her hair mussed and tangled across her face.
 

I brush a lock aside and smile down at her. “Hi.”

She blinks up at me, and her mouth falls open, her eyes searching me. “What—what did you just do to me? And can you do it every single moment of every day for the rest of my life?”

I feel intensely, powerfully, all-consumingly proud of how thoroughly flushed and limp and shocked she is. I’m possessive, needy. I’m in so deep now. So far gone. “I made you come, sweetness. And yes, I sure can.”

 
I’m surprised at my own words. Stunned might be more accurate. Did I really just say I’d spend every moment of our lives making her come? ’Cause that implies a lifetime spent together. There’s a whole hell of a lot subtly implied in that promise.

Her hooded eyes rove from my face, down to my chest, and farther down to my painfully rigid cock. “I want to make you feel that way.” She rolls toward me, her hair falling around her face, and pushes on my shoulder. “I swear I saw the stars, Oz. It felt like you broke open my soul and let heaven into my body.”

“You should put that in a song,” I say.

“I will.” She kisses my shoulder, presses her body flush against the length of mine, sends her palm skating down my chest to my stomach, slides her hand flat against my skin beneath my cock. “Later.”

She wraps her hand around my erection, and lazily slides her fist up my length, twists at the tip, and plunges back down. I hiss through my teeth, watching her hand on me. We’re both watching her touch me, and the expression on her face is one of excited disbelief, like she can’t believe she’s really here, really doing this, with me. I know the feeling. I’m kind of lost in the wonder of it all, too. But then all that fades away as her slowly, gently sliding hand on my cock brings me to groaning, arching splendor. Nothing has ever felt so good as this. Just her hand, her fingers and her palm, rising and falling, twisting and sliding and gripping, her soft skin on mine, her lips touching my shoulder and smiling a tiny, private smile as I start to buck up into her touch.
 

“Kylie, you better stop, or I’m gonna lose it.”
 

“So?”
 

“Oh, god, Kylie. Shit, the way you touch me…it’s—it’s fucking magic.” I lick my lips and try to push away the impending release. “So, I thought we were gonna—oh god, oh god—” I can’t make any more sense, can’t control the ache in my balls and the need to move and the need to let go.

“I’m not in a hurry, Oz. I want this. I want to watch you come. All this is new territory for me, and I’m enjoying this, touching you like this.” She’s mumbling this, almost absently, more focused on me, on her fingers wrapped around my aching cock.

I’m boiling, my balls are heavy and tight and full, my eyes won’t stay open and my breathing is ragged and my body is arching off the bed, my hips thrusting helplessly. She’s touching me slowly, exploring. Her goal isn’t to make me come, it’s to merely touch me, to learn the way my cock feels in her hand, to learn the way I react. It’s beautiful torture. Kylie cups the head in her palm, squeezes gently, and then slides her fist down my length. I’m so close, so close.
 

And then I feel her hair drifting on my chest, feel her face on my stomach. “I feel like I want to kiss you there, like you did to me. I want to taste you.”

I should stop her. “Ky—you don’t…don’t have to do that, just ’cause I did.”

She doesn’t answer, and I feel her lips kiss the tip of my cock, and I’m holding back, tensed, every muscle iron-hard, teeth grinding together. I feel her tongue touch me, feel her lips wrap around the head, just above the groove, the tip of her tongue sliding along the tiny opening, tasting the leaking pre-come. I can’t hold back much longer, and I don’t want to come in her mouth. But this feels…beyond amazing. Everything she does, every touch, every kiss of her lips takes me further and further into bliss. I don’t want it to ever stop, not ever. I’m shaking, muscles trembling as I strive to hold still and keep the release at bay. She’s holding me by the root, her mouth hot and wet around the head of my cock, and she’s kissing, tasting, licking, as if I’m some kind of treat, licking and sucking and sliding her lips all over me as if I’m ice cream.