Kiss and Cry

I turned my face at the last moment, fear surging through the pleasure. It would be too much. I’d come as soon as his lips met mine, and it was too humiliating. Too exposing. If I let him kiss me, all the walls would crumble. There’d be no protection left.

Hand on my shaft, he stilled. I blinked at the red-lit coat closet, my face turned, his gaze hot on my cheek. He murmured, “It’s okay.” With his free hand, he caressed my arm, sending more goosebumps rippling. “Have you done this before?’

The memories from Vancouver invaded along with indignation. I went rigid. “Of course! I’m not a virgin.”

“Okay.” Theodore still caressed slowly, his tone soothing. “It would be all right if you were.”

“I’m not!” I glared at Theo, gritting my teeth. “I’m not.”

I remembered the narrow bed in the dorm room in Vancouver, and him and how shameless I’d been. How pitifully stupid.

I asked, “Why are you doing this? You don’t really want me.”

He seemed taken aback, blinking owlishly in the red glow. “Uh, I beg to differ.” Taking my hand, he pressed my palm over his erection through the rough towel. “Henry, I want you.”

I couldn’t hold in a moan, and his beautiful face lit up. His gaze flicked between my mouth and my eyes, and he very deliberately took my chin and turned my head so he could suck on the side of my neck.

His damp mouth locked onto my ticklish skin, and I bit back a gasp. That he was respecting my refusal to kiss had warmth pulsing in my chest.

Even as he stroked and nuzzled me, a steady stream of groans and moans and mumbles poured out of his mouth. I stayed quiet, my lips pressed together, nostrils flaring. He pulled my damp bathing suit down to my thighs and dropped to his knees, and I nearly had to slap my hand over my mouth.

Spreading his hands wide, he circled my inner thighs rhythmically with his thumbs while he peered up at me. “Can I suck you?”

Did he really want to? Was this a trick? I stood frozen, my hands at my sides.

Theo sat back on his heels, dropping his hands. “Do you want to stop?”

I shook my head so hard it was a miracle I didn’t dislodge my brain. Or what was left of it. A coy little smile tugging on his lips, Theodore watched me through his eyelashes as he leaned forward and licked my balls. I had to whimper. He opened his mouth and sucked one, the heat incredible.

He smiled around me before moving to the other ball, lips and tongue gentle. My whole body shuddered at the featherlight sensation. I felt like I would float away if not for his mouth grounding me, if not for his hands strong on my hips. I had to touch him, and he purred like Esmeralda as I threaded my fingers through his soft hair.

This had to be a dream. I’d wake up alone in my bed any minute now. Theodore Sullivan could not actually be on his knees for me, teasing and touching. Then he sucked my shaft down to the root without warning. After three hard pulls of his mouth, I came, gasping as I spilled down his throat.

I shattered into too many pieces. The release was shockingly intense compared to using my own hand when I was too pent up. I shook and quivered, my back arching. This time, I wasn’t alone.

Theo was with me, all heat and muscle and moaned encouragement. He swallowed it all, and when I realized with horror that I was gripping his hair so tightly it must have hurt, I jerked my hand to my side.

He released me, my shaft and his mouth shining wet in the crimson light. He shoved down his ridiculously small bathing suit and placed my hand back on his head. I tentatively tightened my fingers, pulling his hair just a bit.

Groaning, he leaned into my touch as he jerked himself roughly, eyes closed and mouth open. He spurted over his hand, splashing my knee and muttering a string of obscenities.

He slumped against my legs, keeping me on my feet for at least a few more minutes. I couldn’t resist caressing his hair as we panted harshly. It felt like being in a cocoon, just the two of us in the ghostly light from the kitchen. If only we could stay this way…

Esmeralda’s outraged meow made us both jump. Somehow laughing, Theodore pushed to his feet. “Sounds like the princess is jealous. Or hungry. Like always, right? I can relate, sweetheart. Mmm, what I wouldn’t give for a Big Mac and large fries. Plus a shake. Shamrock is the best, obviously, but otherwise I go for vanilla. I like chocolate—I mean, who doesn’t—but not in a milkshake for some reason.”