Not until he’s in that relaxed, affectionate place we always end up in after sex. That’s when I’ll tell him I love him. That’s when I’ll tell him about the baby. “Is it that surprising that I want you?” I lean in and kiss him. A decadent, winding kiss that makes his erection swell. “I always want you.”
The bell rings.
Students groan, locker doors slam and there’s a flurry of activity around us as everyone runs for class. But we don’t move. We just continue to stare into each other’s eyes, at least until a male administrator knocks on one of the neighboring lockers. “All right, love birds. Get to class.”Rap rap rap. “This behavior is totally inappropriate.”
Flynt turns a glare on the man that should probably chill me to the bone, but it only turns me on. “What I do with her is none of your business,” he rasps to the man. “Fuck off.”
I turn my head long enough to watch the administrator go pale and scurry away, but then I’m purely riveted by Flynt. He pries me off the row of lockers and strides down the hall, hooking a right toward the AV room. I rub our sexes together as we walk, my mouth and teeth and tongue racing over his neck.Ohhhh.And then his hands clutch my bare butt and I almost climax. Seriously. I’m so primed for his touch and to touch him in return that by the time we enter the dark AV room and lock the door, I’m frantic to get on my knees.
Watching him unfasten his belt from my kneeling position does something to me. An internal ripple so intense that it makes me gasp. Makes me reach under my skirt and palm myself, grinding my flesh against the heel of my hand.
He sees the change in me and slows down, making a meal out of dragging the leather belt through the denim loops of his jeans. “Why do you like this?” he asks, studying me, expression heated. Hungry. Anticipatory.
“I don’t know.”
“Did your father ever use his belt on you as a kid?”
I’m already shaking my head. “No. No, he never hit me.”
His chest rises and falls. “Thank God.” He folds the belt in half in his hands and cracks the leather together. There’s an answering spasm in my tummy that spreads such a ticklish sensation in its wake, I almost can’t stand it. My fingers are inside my panties now, petting, spreading wetness, bringing myself closer to the edge. “It just…it seems like something a Daddy would do.”
“Yours.”
I nod like an obedient pupil and down comes his zipper.
Flynt has never let me see his shaft. He covers me with his body or turns me around on my hands and knees before I can get a glimpse. He says it will scare me. But I’m so desperate to see it now that I hold my breath, my hands steepled together like a nun in prayer.
He takes it out of his jeans in a white-knuckled fist and drops the ample weight of it, letting it bounce, along with his balls, into view. It’s so stiff, it sticks right out and…oh my God. It’s thick and ruddy and long. So long.
And my name is tattooed on the side.
Both sides.
“Flynt,” I whisper, tears springing to my eyes.
“Well?” He steps forward stroking himself, shadows dancing in his blue eyes. “Does it scare you?”
I take a moment to ponder my answer to the question. Obviously, the tattoos have been there for a while. If they were a recent addition, he’d have been bandaged. Or in recovery mode, unable to have sex. This proves he’s been more than a little committed to me for quite a while. Obsessive is a better word. But…
“It’s beautiful,” I say honestly, scooting forward on my knees. “It only excites me.”
Flynt groans.
I watch breathlessly as a single white drop appears on the smooth slit of his sex and my body begins to hum like an engine, heating, a sound of pure hunger rising in my throat. For Flynt’s part, he looks almost overcome by my eagerness.
“Wrap both of your hands around it slowly.Slowly, baby. I’m trying really hard not to come on your face.”
My panties turn sodden over that imagery.
Is that something he would like?
WouldIlike it?
I want to find out. I want to find out every single thing about lovemaking with Flynt and I hope we never reach the bottom of the well of possibilities. I want to touch him and explore with him for the rest of my life. Starting now, when I take him in my hands, marveling at the combination of strength of smoothness. Flynt hisses in a breath. And as I begin to stroke him, he gets that look in his eyes. The one that says the sweet boyfriend has checked out and the dominant man has taken his place. I love both of them with all of my heart.
Flynt’s fingers slide into my hair and tighten around the strands just enough to make me gasp. Then he steps forward. Comes so close that I have no choice but to let his thickness slide into my mouth. Salt immediately foams down the back of my throat, Flynt’s fist shaking in my hair, his breath turning to hoarse bursts of air.
I drop one of my hands from around his shaft, using it to pull him closer by the loosened waistband of his jeans—and I suck noisily. My knees squeak on the ground trying to get near to him as possible and I work, work, work him into my mouth in the rhythm I’ve memorized from having him inside of me. I know he likes the pace somewhere between slow and fast and I give him that now. I give it to myself.