When I let them fall away, the answer is clear. The path is forward. And it leads to New York.
Chapter 22
Libby
Weirdly, knowing that we are all stepping forward together makes the next couple of days sort of strange. Sort of spotlighted, as though everything we are doing has an expiration date.
No, not an expiration date. But a big “to be continued” sign underneath it.
At some point we all agreed to sleep in Will’s bed together. Not in words, just silently, the way we seem to agree to most things. Every night, we have fallen together on the same king-size mattress, usually sleeping after an hour or so of vigorous, energetic exercise.
Today though, it’s a little different. It’s real. It is, apparently, a thing.
Tomorrow I need to go home and explain my choices to my father. Right now it seems inevitable. He will accept it. Something has changed in me; some kind of childish shield has cracked away. Now I know the decision is mine to make, and he will naturally understand.
Cass removes his T-shirt slowly, watching me from his corner of the bed as I slip out of my floral dress and fold it neatly on the dresser. Mona brought me some nightgowns and if he weren’t already staring at me, I would definitely slip away to the bathroom to put one on. That is something Mona taught me: the allure of nightwear. It seemed kind of pointless to me, but she explained that the point of nightwear was to be removed by your special fella, as she called him at the time.
I would like to do that. I will save it for another time.
Will comes in, closing the door behind him. He smiles at me broadly, his cheeks creasing.
“Now, that is what I like to see,” he announces, his eyes skating over my naked body.
I lean back against the dresser, fixing him in a challenging stare.
“Which part?”
He slides his track pants down to his ankles. His cock is stiff and ready, already at attention.
“The whole thing, Libby. Every inch.”
“You have already had every inch,” I smile.
“Oh, no,” Cass interrupts. “There is still so much more we haven’t done yet.”
My eyebrows go up and my center twists with anticipation. Cass kicks his track pants to the laundry basket in the corner and stares at me brazenly, his eyes glittering with lust, his mouth open as he stares past my skin and into my body.
“Show me,” I whisper.
He holds out a hand, and I cross the room to him, suddenly more shy. When I take his hand, he draws it to his lips, kissing my palm, fluttering his tongue against my hand in a ticklish, sensual way.
“Just do everything I say,” he murmurs.
Will flanks my other side, taking my other hand. His kisses are tender, but with a bite. He likes to show me his teeth, to draw designs with the pressure that last for minutes, sometimes hours. I adore his love bites. Sometimes I wish they were permanent.
I know this dance. They will move my body in the ways that suit them. They will draw sounds and emotions from me I never knew I had. All I have to do is submit. Not like a victim, but like a treasure. Something being carried away. Something being adored.
Tugging me toward the bed, Will kisses underneath my jaw, burning a line from my earlobe to my nipple. My body shivers in delight, sending racing courses of goosebumps from my scalp down to my ankles.
I fall next to him, arching and undulating under his touch, letting my fingers wander off over his sculpted flesh. Every time he moves, I can feel the muscles underneath: bicep, trapezius, deltoid, mastoid. Every one perfect in its precise shape and size.
Behind me, Cass pushes my hair off the back of my neck so he can drag his tongue down the furrow of my spine. I feel his strong, thick tongue tracing each vertebrae to my tailbone, then farther. He opens my legs with his hands as his tongue swipes up and down the cleavage between my buttocks.
Will’s lips are sweet and strong. I could kiss him for hours. I have kissed him for hours. I open my mouth wide as he thrusts his tongue inside, mimicking the motion of his cock. I can envision it so clearly, my body spasms unintentionally. I know it is coming.
But Cass has a surprise for me. I hear the squeak of a bottle opening, then feel a cool, luxurious abundance of moisture on my asshole. He spreads a generous amount between my cheeks, so much that I can feel it sliding down my thighs. His fingers splash through the lubrication, spreading it everywhere.
In response, I relax, knowing that he will slide a finger into my dark hole any second. I never knew it felt so good, but now I crave it. I love that sense of fullness.