by Evie Bennet
“This good, Betty?” he asked, kissing my jaw before pulling back to check on me. “This helping?”
“Yes.” I nodded, trying not to show how overcome I was. “Yes. Please.”
He ripped his shirt off and hoisted me up in his arms, stumbling to the couch for the sheer convenience of it being the closest place we could comfortably lie horizontally. In a tangle of limbs, my hands finally sinking into the perfect silk of his hair, I arched my back and tried not to come just from this.
He’s barely touched me.
Grateful, hysterical tears lined my eyelashes anyway.
I love him. I love him so much.
He pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses along my chest. Love burned, sizzling and steaming out of every place he touched.
Take me, I wanted to tell him. Ruin me for anyone else. Make me yours, like I already am.
We rutted against each other, shameless, safe, the wide expanse of his hands rubbing and supporting the contractions my muscles seemed to be doing in an effort to massage and keep him close, to forge us together as lovers.
Forever.
The strain of my bra snapped loose even though it was somewhat tangled by my bindings. All of me felt free. How much more electric could truly being with him possibly be? A giggle snuck loose, drawing Reed’s heated gaze off my tits and onto my face to check on me.
“I’m just so happy, Reedsy. I’ve wanted this, I’ve wanted you, for so long.”
Even though he was obviously hard, his face softened in the palm of my hand, eyes gently shutting at my sweet caress.
I had him. I’d take care of him.
The soft, vein-jolting kisses he pressed to the inside of my wrist quickly turned to nips. My whole body reacted, hips thrusting anxiously to his for relief.
I needed him to take me.
I swung forward to taste his mouth, to see if the cut was still salty and bitter when all I tasted was paradise.
His thumb plucked at my nipple. He was everything I needed.
I sucked my mark into his neck, his moans accompanied by a harsh thrusting that made my thighs tremble and fingers dig in.
I wanted to beg him to fuck me senseless but that wasn’t what good girls did.
He laid me back on the couch, mouthing my breasts until I was wet and squirming and probably soaked through my jeans, which were finally, finally being unbuttoned and removed. Once we were naked, I wondered if he’d let my hands free. I pushed at his pants with my foot, helping those off one shimmy at a time. Just underwear. Just—
The pants leg caught and with a final thrust, he accidentally fell.
A shadow of flesh moved over me.
The demanding pulse between my legs migrated to a terrified thump in my chest. Airways squeezed down to nothing.
“Reedsy,” I wanted to say, but I wasn’t even sure if I could.
My nails dug into the shoulders above me. Not in passionate streaks like he would want. I was clinging, sinking.
Wait, I panicked. I retracted my hands, pulling my elbows tight against my ribs to trap myself under his arms.
I needed help. I couldn’t get up. I couldn’t—
“Betty?”
The shadow cleared, Reed’s inky curls and concerned blue eyes coming into view. He wiped my face and the cool sensation confused me. A barrier.
It was tears.
My mouth fell open in quiet, gasping shame.
“I’m sorry, I-I just thought…”
“Don’t be sorry.” He caressed my cheeks, helping me upright and untying my bindings. I didn’t want our bond to break. When a sob escaped (oh my God), he held me against his chest, in his lap.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
“Betty, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m here. What happened? How are you?”
Eyes squeezed shut, I laid my cheek on his shoulder. His nice, safe, smooth shoulder. “I’m sorry I ruined everything.”
He stroked my hair and soothed me. “You didn’t ruin anything.” We stayed like that as I leaked, Reed somehow still radiating warmth. “I’m sorry that I scared you.”
“It wasn’t you.” I sniffed, kissing his shoulder. Just touching him helped. Being enveloped, as he obviously cared for me, made everything better.
We were supposed to have our first time just then. It was supposed to be magical. I wasn’t supposed to fall apart and sob in his arms like some sort of psycho.
“Was this too much tonight?”
“No.” Eyes wide, I pulled back, quickly moving to stroke his hair, to ease the worry I’d unfortunately poisoned the night with. “I wanted—I want this with you so badly.”
“Those didn’t seem like tears of joy.” I could tell he was trying not to make it about him, even though the smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“I want you more than anything. I’m so sorry for freaking out. I swear, everything you were doing was wonderful. It’s like I suddenly went from almost coming from your kiss alone to…”
“What?” His voice was soft, coaxing, as he gently jostled me to get the rest out. “What was it?”
“This darkness came over me. I…” The tremor in my bones threatened to overcome me again.
I was safe, I reminded myself, Reed was safe.
“I think I’ve just wanted this for so long…”
Searching for understanding, I got lost in his gaze, in the curve of his jaw under my hand, in the silky locks that welcomed my fingers, and even his lip, so soft under my thumb. His pulse slowed with mine until we were one.
Before I could kiss him again, he gently pushed my hips to give us a little space. “Maybe we should slow things down a bit.”
“No. Please don’t leave. I’m sorry,” I whispered, tears threatening to spill.
I needed to stop crying.
“I’m not gonna leave you. I want this too. But I want to do this right. Not when you’re crying or having a hard time breathing. I want to do this when all you feel is good, when all you want is this.”
Unsure how to proceed, I skated my lips across his cheeks, wondering if this meant us and how long he’d be willing to wait when I already felt anxiousness creeping under my skin.
“But I really…”
He turned to give me a sound, reassuring peck on the lips. “I’ll stay on the couch tonight or until you’re feeling better.”
My heart clenched painfully. “You’ll stay?”
He nodded, giving me another kiss.
Everyone was so kind in West Ridge. What did I do to deserve it? Why couldn’t I embrace it?
“Promise?”
His long eyelashes fluttered, a small, earnest smile spreading his cheeks. “I promise.”
Neck stretching against my sheets, I stared at the ceiling of my bedroom. The ache between my legs wasn’t for sex so much as Reed’s general presence. Even though the accidental weight shift from earlier had sent me spinning, I knew how good he felt, too, and I wanted to feel him again.
Having him in my house was amazing in its own way. He slept soundly in the living room amidst cracker packets and mostly-empty mugs of decaf tea, insisting he take the couch so I could be comfortable on the bed. I just hoped I hadn’t scared him too badly.
Unable to contain myself, I padded to the hallway towards the sound of his soft breathing. Fingers braced delicately on the doorframe, I moved closer.
He was so beautiful it was almost a religious feeling. Totally unreal. His face was slack in sleep, a peaceful innocence devoid of nightmares. Even on my couch, one of my throw pillows kicked to the floor and the blanket wrapped around his feet, he looked like he should be in a painting. The soft fuzz of hair leading into his boxers looked downy and delectable. I wanted him. Always.
Swallowing hard, I swiped open my phone. Writing something could distract me from creeping.
The way his hair swelled over his forehead was too tempting and I had to take a photo. Different angles. Oh shit, I really wanted to take a video but that would be pushing it. He was vulnerable enough as it was. Maybe I
should delete something. Or create. My heart throbbed, crawling into my throat.
I want every angle of your peace
Every taste of your war
To be inside of you, a part of this
Your dream, our reality, my love
I closed the app, saving the poem in drafts to be posted later on my blog. Writing was supposed to be therapeutic, but Reed seemed even more comforting. His skin was almost oily under my touch, the unruly, perfect curl on his forehead moving gently with my direction. He stirred, then snapped awake underneath me. He looked almost ready to strike, confused, until I shushed him, my fingers lingering in his hairline.
“It’s just me.”
Still groggy, he frowned, the peace he had in sleep destroyed by my meddling. I’d give it back to him. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just,” I hesitated, not sure what to say. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Do you want—come here,” he murmured, gently tugging on my wrist.
Joining him at his invitation and command felt blissfully right. Settling in against him as the small spoon to his big, I never wanted to leave again. Every plane of our bodies fit like they were meant to be together. His warm breath tickled the stray hairs behind my ear. With his arm slung heavy over my waist, I knew he wouldn’t let me fall, not even over these deep cushions and the two feet towards the floor.
This was a combination of fantasy and reality and I was loving every second of it.
Content, adrenaline surging, the ache between my legs abated, the pressure of his heartbeat behind me seeming to soak in and sate me.
I loved this. I loved us.
My eyes drifted closed, another happy tug squeezing my heart as our fingers threaded together.
Lips pressed against my ear in a kiss. Warmth shifted behind me. Reed slipped out to the bathroom, tugging at his boxers as he went. When I turned, I could see the protrusion out the front. Every second stretched out before me. Not in a bad way. More like a panning shot at the beginning of a horror movie, waiting for something to happen.
He was just using the bathroom.
I listened carefully, keeping still so as not to disrupt our position for when he came back. But there was no sound of running water or the tinkling of relieving himself. No bursts or noise or plopping that might indicate some other kind of pressure.
There was a little squeaky pump. Lotion? And friction. A rubbing noise. A low grunt.
He couldn’t be…
He was masturbating. Reed was getting himself off in my bathroom. Stunned, I rolled over on the couch, wide awake and heartbeat pounding.
I wanted to fuck him. God, I should have fucked him.
Maybe I could go in? Offer to finish him off?
His first orgasm here and he wasn’t even inside me.
I couldn’t barge into the bathroom and offer to blow him without coming off as crazy.
I was crazy.
I could do it safely. I could–
“Fuck, Betty.”
My eyes fell closed, fingers slipping past the thin, oversized sleep shirt and cotton underwear and into the silky folds waiting for him.
He called my name. I wanted to be there with him. If I couldn’t figure out how to physically experience the intimacy we wanted tonight, we could do it on another level.
Head tilting back, I rubbed tiny circles on my clit and listened harder. I craved his presence in any way I could get it. The slick sound of his fist moving around his cock made me want to sing, to dig my toes into my couch and lift my hips up and just fuck myself with him, with his sound, with his voice. I pumped my fingers in time with his pants.
He muttered my name again. With a low, urgent whine, I pushed my hips back into the couch.
We needed each other. If only I could let myself in.
The edge of euphoria trembled at my fingertips.
He came, a stifled groan working its way under the floorboards and up into my veins, pushing me that much closer to surrendering to bliss.
The sound of water turning on and off distracted me, though, as did the few seconds I couldn’t hear anything at all. Desperate, I roughly rubbed at my clit in a last-ditch effort before time inevitably ran out, before the door handle turned.
The bathroom door creaked open. I snapped my fingers out of my underwear and rolled back onto my side, a fine sheen of sweat coating my body.
Damn. My heartbeat. The sweat. It gave everything away. I probably smelled like... like sex.
Reed’s footsteps were heavier on the way back. He seemed to study me, one knee on the couch, before slipping back into our former position. A long, shuddery breath escaped me as his body aligned with mine.
The pressure was different this time.
I needed him. Needed to fuck myself senseless with him, but I couldn’t. He couldn’t, especially considering he’d just finished a few seconds ago. Maybe I should do the same thing he did. Go to the bathroom. That sounded horribly uncomfortable though. I didn’t want to hoist my legs up in the freezing cold bathtub and finger myself. I would. But I didn’t want to. If I went back to the bedroom he’d think I’d changed my mind.
Just a few more seconds of his presence for fuel and then…
His voice was soft enough not to disturb me if I was in fact sleeping. “You doing okay, baby?”
Another new endearment of intimacy.
I moaned, shuddering against the hot breath on my exposed collarbone.
“Do you need anything?” His mouth pressed into my shoulder.
Did he know what I’d been doing? Could he hear me, or did he intrinsically feel me?
His hand trailed lazily along the curve of my hip and I found myself edging back until my ass was rubbing his slightly tented crotch for attention.
“You, Reed.”
Maybe he shivered behind me. It was hard to tell when my whole body was craving his touch. With only the slightest bit of hesitation, I guided him by the wrist across the soft skin of my stomach, lifting my waistband. I cringed when the air contact reminded me just how wet I was without any relief.
“Please. Touch me,” I murmured, twisting my neck until I could kiss him, savor his intensity. I was so involved in the kiss that I gasped when his fingers actually slid across and into the slick passage readied so hastily for him.
A desperate, almost gurgling plea escaped my throat. His fingers were so much longer and thicker than mine. He filled me and colored in the shapes I didn’t know I had. As I shifted, he read my body and moods, adjusting with me. He was so smart, so completely compassionate, and an overall amazing guy. I was so lucky I found him, that we could be together.
As he hooked a beat inside of me, my mind spread out and rippled with base pleasure. I’d been on the brink before and once it was him actually touching me, my eyes fluttered shut, unable to see, let alone think beyond the basics of “yes, please, more.”
Reed sucked on my neck, the change in temperature, in sensation, making me keen. His free hand slid up my shirt and squeezed my breasts. Seeking more contact, I pushed back into him.
“Oh, shit, yes Reed,” I groaned, grinding against his ministrations. His smile pressed into my neck.
That smug confidence made me want to take another picture to savor it forever.
The pressure of passion built up in me, coiling tightly in my abdomen as tingles started taking hold in my extremities. Maybe he loved hearing me, too: sounds of wet, swollen flesh, my moans, my curses. Oh, I could picture him standing at the edge of my bed, fisting his no-doubt beautiful cock in agonized reverie as I spread my legs before him, showing him everything we could be, everything he made me feel.
Pulsing, pushing energy shoved my body towards various states of tremors, every wave singing for us and happiness.
As the waves subsided, my body reluctantly released its grip on his fingers, still shaking in the aftermath of his little kisses, his affection.
“Was that okay?”
I thought I’d been pretty demonstrative that I loved
the experience. Unable to do much more than moan, I turned and wrapped my leg around his hip, nearly pushing us both off the couch. “I never want you to leave.”
He was quiet. That was probably a little scary for a first date, but I didn’t have the energy to fight my impulses. At least he didn’t seem scared, just thoughtful.
Maybe he would stay. He could move in here. There was room. I would make room, if I had to.
His thumb rubbed small circles into my hip. I’d probably be sore in the morning unless I stretched out after the amazing journey my body had just been through.
“Do you want to move to the bedroom? Or stay out here?” I mumbled, nuzzling my face against his neck, where a dark mark served as a celebration of our tryst.
“Wherever you want.” I hummed, not sure where to go. “Let’s just stay here. If we don’t have to move, that means we can cuddle a while longer.”
“Yeah.” I smiled lazily, pressing my lips to his throat. The steady thumping of his pulse reassured me, and soon enough the rest of the world fell away.
6
X
Everything about the morning with Reed was like some alternate universe, a perfect dream. He was up before I was, his hair sticking up and flipping to the side like the morning newspaper over his cereal.
With the idle desire to document his disheveled state, I reached for my phone, confused to find it about half a foot to the left of where I put it last. Maybe Reed checked it for the time during the night? That made sense. I surreptitiously snapped a photo of him munching on his cereal while I pretended to scroll a feed for the morning news.
“What are your plans today?” The kitchen chair was kind of cold on my legs, but I was hopeful that being without pants would pay off in the end.
Strangely enough, Reed seemed resigned more than eager after our amazing evening. “I think I’m gonna hang out here for a bit. Shower. Get some lunch. Then head back, check on my dad.”
“Does your dad need to be checked up on?” He looked up at me as if I should know that all parents needed someone to take care of them. On some level, everyone did. It wasn’t like I’d hacked his laptop camera to see his home life.