“Why’d you stop?” I pant.
He unzips his jeans, pulling everything off and then climbing onto the bed. Jensen grabs my hips and pulls them toward him. “Sit on my face, but face that way.” He points to the foot of the bed, so I straddle him backwards and he lowers me to his mouth.
I’m in control now, bucking my hips against his mouth as his hands grip the flesh of my hips. I’m on my knees, desperate for something to cling onto, to ground me.
I bend forward, coming face to face with his throbbing erection. In a hazy fit of blinding lust, I instinctively grab the base of it, bringing the tip of it to my lips. It’s warm and soft against my mouth. My lips part, my tongue extending to taste the tiny drop of pre-cum that rests on top of his swollen member. It’s slightly sweet, mostly salty, and not nearly as disgusting as I expected.
I swallow the tiny drop and bask in the naughty feeling it gives me. My tongue strokes the length of him from base to tip and back before circling his head. He moans deep against my sex when I take him into my mouth. He’s velvet and heat, deliciously forbidden, and I can’t quite fit him all.
His tongue continues lapping my arousal, hungrier and needier with each passing minute. My breasts graze his lower abs as I continue licking and sucking him. This is like sex, but softer, gentler, and even more sensual.
Feeling his tongue invading my sex as his erection fills my mouth is strangely intense. Jensen was right. Again.
“I’m gonna come.” He breathes his words hot onto my sensitive skin moments later, his hardness swelling and pumping into my mouth. His fingers dig into me, threatening to leave marks. A few long spurts and he’s dripping down the back of my throat.
I rise up to my knees, his mouth still commanding my hips. I grab my breasts as I rock against him.
Closer…
Until I hit the edge I’d been fighting all along.
Intensity rains down on me in uncontrollable spasms. Jensen grips me, refusing to let me leave his tongue until he’s drained every last ounce of orgasm from my spent body.
I collapse on the bed next to him, burying my face against a free pillow. I’ve no idea how I’m going to walk out of here when I can’t feel my legs.
“Waverly,” he says.
“I know, I know. I’ll leave in a second.”
“No, I was going to say, you don’t have to leave. Your mom and Bellamy are asleep, right? And your dad’s at Summer’s?”
“You want me to stay?”
“I wasn’t done drawing you.”
“So that wasn’t a ploy to get me to…?”
“No,” he laughs, his full lips arching wide. His fingertip scratches the spot just above his left brow. “That just, um… that just happened.”
We lie on his bed, neither of us in a hurry to grab our clothes off the floor.
My eye catches a round, dime-sized scar on his chest, hidden between two points of his tattoos. I’d never noticed it before, and I trace it with the tip of my finger. “What happened here?”
Jensen doesn’t flinch or move. He doesn’t wince or scowl. “Cigarette lighter.”
“How?”
“My dad was mad at me one Sunday after church. I talked back to him on the way home in the car. Reached down, grabbed the cigarette lighter, jammed it into my chest. Burned clear through my shirt.”
My body tingles with empathetic pains, and I breathe through clenched teeth. “All you did was talk back, and he burned you?”
“If it wasn’t cigarette lighters it was red pepper flakes in the mouth, no dinner for a week, belts, paddles. Corporal punishment was a way of life.”
“And he got away with all of that?”
“If you lived in Charter Springs, you’d see. The whole goddamned town thinks he’s the second coming of Christ.” Jensen’s face is blank. I can’t read him. I feel like I should feel sorry for him, but I don’t get the impression that he feels sorry for himself. “He let up on the beatings when Juliette came into the picture.”
“Juliette?”
“My father’s girlfriend. She became his target after that. She couldn’t do anything right.”
“Why’d she stay with him?”
He shrugs. “I suppose because it was better than being out on the street. And I don’t think Juliette really knew what love was, because she believed my father loved her. I don’t know much about love, but I know that wasn’t it.”
“And…” I’m scared to ask, but I have to know. “You and her? How’d that happen?”
He rakes his hand through his hair and blows out a lungful of air. “This is really heavy, can we—”