Plus, I really do want to know what his tongue is capable of.
With a single nod, I lift my butt off the bed, and he pulls my sweatpants off my legs, leaving only the boy shorts I’m wearing. Embarrassed to have him down there, I lay my head back and cover my eyes with my arm, but I should’ve known Lachlan wouldn’t let that fly.
“Eyes open,” he demands softly. “I want you to watch me make you come.” I can’t help how nervous yet excited I am. I’ve only had one guy attempt to go down on me before, but nothing really came of it. We were young and he wasn’t very experienced.
Lachlan loops his fingers around the sides of my panties and tugs them down, leaving me completely exposed. With the blinds shut, it’s not too bright in here, but there’s definitely enough light shining through that I’m able to watch him without issue, which means he can see all of me: every stretch-mark, every flaw, every imperfection. The thought has me wanting to put my clothes back on and run away.
As if Lachlan can sense the vulnerability in my thoughts, he says, “You look absolutely fucking stunning, lying in this bed with your legs spread open and ready for me.” His words have such a calming effect on me. My shoulders slump, my body relaxes. “Good girl,” he murmurs just before he spreads me open and begins to lick up my center. Not able to see what he’s doing, I prop myself up on my elbow for a better look, just in time to see Lachlan’s tongue dart out and lick my clit, eliciting a moan from me as my pelvis pops up in shock at how mind blowing it feels.
He eyes me curiously, so I answer his silent question. “This is…kind of my first time,” I admit, sheepishly. My answer must be one he likes because he grins like a Cheshire cat before dipping his face back down and licking up my slit again. I continue to watch as Lachlan licks and sucks and nibbles my clit, working me up into a frenzy. I’ve made myself come many times over the years, but my vibrator sure as hell isn’t capable of these functions.
When I feel my orgasm reaching the precipice, I throw my head back against the pillow, close my eyes, and allow myself to just feel what Lachlan is doing to me. And with one more flick to my clit, I’m coming so hard my toes curl into my sheets and my pelvis lifts from the bed.
“Oh. My. God,” I scream as Lachlan continues to suck and lap up my juices that are flowing down my center, until I’ve completely come down from my high.
When I open my eyes, he’s lying next to me on his side with the goofiest grin on his face. I try to recall a single time Rick smiled like that at me after sex, but I can’t, and it’s in this moment, I finally accept Lachlan is not Rick. He’s not going to put me down or call me names. He’s not going to blame me if I don’t orgasm fast enough, or tell me I’m broken. For some crazy reason, Lachlan wants me. And while I have no clue where this will go or how long we’ll last, I’m done fighting it.
And with that conclusion, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “Thank you.” Lachlan throws his head back with a laugh, and I groan inside. I just thanked him for eating me out. Fabulous.
“You’re welcome,” he says through his laughter. “I don’t think I’ve ever been thanked for going down on anyone before.” He gives my cheek a kiss before he stands. “I don’t have any clothes here, so I’m going to run home to shower and change, and then I’ll meet you at the soccer game.” Grabbing his shirt from the nightstand, he pulls it on over his head, and I mentally pout.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. Shit! I must’ve been actually pouting.
“I was just wishing you could stay shirtless forever,” I say, shocking myself at how honest and open I’ve become. Lachlan is bringing the old Quinn out in me, and I must admit, I’ve really missed her.
“I will if you do,” Lachlan says with a grin, nodding toward me. How did I forget I’m still naked? Grabbing the blanket, I wrap it around my shoulders and get out of bed.
“I’ll see you at nine,” I say before I head into the bathroom.
Once I’m showered and dressed, I head downstairs to grab some coffee before I head out. Willow and Jax are both sitting at the table, in their Forbidden Ink shirts, drinking coffee and talking.
“Morning,” I say, passing by them, going straight to the kitchen.