Page 22 of A Man To Remember (Skin on Skin #3)

"You okay?" he asks and I can feel the words against my wet skin.

I hum in response, not even trying to find words to answer a question so simple, yet so complicated.

I do my best to split my attention between trying to breathe and trying to loosen up my clenched muscles, failing at both. My breaths come ragged, clipped in half and unfinished, while my hole clenches involuntarily around the tongue that attempts to make its way in.

Inside me.

He alternates between trying to push in and giving me slow, long licks every time my body doesn't allow it.

My entire body goes into overdrive, making me too hot, then too cold, then too hot again.

And somehow, somewhere between the sweat and the shivers, it finds a way to relax, long enough for the tip of Austin's tongue to push past the ring of muscle.

I press my mouth against the mattress and moan as he flicks his tongue in and out, nerve endings I didn't know I had suddenly firing up, making my cock leak against the sheets.

And what had been pure torture mere minutes ago, slowly morphs into a sweet type of torture, before the torture part subsides completely, something brand new taking its place—a maddening, mind-bending pleasure that has my hips jerking up, seeking more of what I've been so afraid of.

Austin hums behind me and I swear I can feel the barely there vibration on my skin as if it were a jackhammer.

"How are you doing this?" I moan out, words mingling together into a single sound.

I vaguely register my hips are moving now, grinding up and down against the mattress, seeking some friction on my cock, the familiar type of pleasure intensifying the new.

And just when I think it's done, just when I'm sure the next push of Austin's tongue inside me is going to be the end of me, his tongue is gone, and so is the warmth of his breath, replaced by the tip of his finger before my brain catches up to what's happening.

I suck in a sharp breath and hold it, bracing myself for new sensations, new adjustments, new lessons my body's about to learn.

But there's nothing left to learn, my body cooperating fully, my hole loose enough, slick enough to take Austin's finger, all the way until—

" Fuck ," I practically yell when the tip presses against yet another nerve ending I didn't know existed, this time inside me.

"Mmhmm," Austin hums and does it again, pressing against that one spot with deliberate, calculated precision.

The rest is a blur. It's almost as if my body can't handle the pleasure, like it doesn't know which part to focus on, catching mere bits and pieces.

Austin's finger pushing in and out now, slow, then fast, then slow again.

His hand on my ass, massaging, pulling, patting.

His knees inching up, spreading my legs apart even more, even though he doesn't really have to, my ass lifted now, bouncing up to take him in, meeting him halfway.

And the impossible to miss emptiness the second his finger's gone, and my body moves without my conscious involvement as I find myself being flipped around once again until I'm on my back, legs spread, hands up gripping the headboard behind me.

I want to ask "Why?" but the visual steals my breath.

Austin's kneeling between my thighs, one hand on his cock, jerking it fast and hard. He's breathing through parted lips, panting, his eyes fixed on mine, his finger already making its way back, sliding in with ease until the tip presses against what must be my prostate.

Then, he answers the Why I didn't voice. "I want to look at you when you come."

It's a command and a spell all rolled into one.

I lose all control over my body. I'm shaking, every single muscle spasming, and the impossible happens.

Pleasure washes over me, a violent tsunami, and my cock jerks against my stomach, once, twice, three times in time with the movements of his finger inside me.

Cum shoots from my dick that's untouched, and I scream—a plea, a curse, his name—as an unfamiliar, mind-blowing type of orgasm consumes me, breaking me apart, taking me to a place I didn't know existed.

And it lasts.

God, it lasts, forever and then some, and he fingers me all the way through it until I'm spent, until my body can't handle it anymore, until there's no more cum left in my balls.

My vision gets blurry before slowly regaining its focus, letting me know it wasn't all a dream. Because Austin's still there, restrained pleasure still painted on his face, his hand still working his cock. I want to touch him, but I can't. My body's not working.

I open my mouth to try and say just that, but before I can, Austin asks in a voice that's on the verge of giving out, "Still want to taste me?"

I try to say—to scream— Yes! but all that comes out is an unintelligible blob of a word.

But Austin gets me.

He gets me, his body already moving, using his knees to inch up and up until his hips hover above my shoulders, his hard cock just inches above my face. And he barely makes it, too—the moment he's in position he lets out a growl, deep and guttural, and lets me taste him.

Strings of cum land on my cheek, on my waiting tongue, inside my waiting mouth.

Freedom.

He does taste like freedom.

And just as I think the day couldn't get any more intense, Austin leans down and licks my face clean before collapsing next to me, on my queen bed that has never seen a person other than myself.

Our heavy breaths fill the quiet room as we come down from the high we just shared, chaotic at first, syncing up more and more with each passing minute until they're one.

Once I regain my voice and at least some control over my body, I say, "So, yeah," then sigh deeply. "Turns out I like that."

My eyes are still closed and I feel Austin's body jerk against mine as he chuckles. "Yeah? Which part?"

I smile to myself. "All of it," I say, although the more honest answer would simply be, You .

By the time I finally open my eyes a few minutes later, Austin's lying on his side, his head propped on his hand.

I turn, so that we're face to face. My sleepless night is taking its toll, my eyelids much heavier than normal. It would be so easy to just close my eyes and let myself drift away. It'd feel good. But what would feel even better would be if Austin's here when I open them. "Stay."

"Stay?" he echoes.

"Stay. For the night."

For multiple nights.

For all of them.

He takes a slow, satisfying breath. "I would, but… I don't want to mess with your schedule."

I smile. "I have time. Mental health day, remember?"

"Well, in that case…" He leans forward and places a small kiss on my lips. I can taste myself on him. "I'll stay. I haven't exactly slept either."

My smile fades. "Why?" I ask, but fear I already know the answer.

It's because of me. I'm the one messing with his schedule.

"I want to tell you something, but I need you not to freak out."

My upper body shoots up and I prop myself on my elbow. "I'm freaking out."

Austin laughs. "Don't. I'm serious, though. I need you not to take it personally."

I swallow, my pulse already kicking up, but I force myself to nod. "Okay."

His eyes drift to the side, staring at the empty space, and he bites on his bottom lip, as if running some sort of mental debate. Finally, he speaks. "I was angry when I saw you. That first day in the club. I saw you and I just got…angry."

I furrow my brows. "Angry?"

Austin still doesn't look at me as he continues, "Yeah. I'm not proud of it. If anything, I'm ashamed because it's awful, but I was angry. Angry that you were doing so well. It's like," his voice cracks, "there was a part of me, this ugly part, that wanted to see you suffer. And I'm sorry."

Slowly, my heartbeat evens out. This isn't something to freak out about. It's not even out of place. It's justified. I reach out and graze his cheek with the back of my finger until his eyes finally meet mine. "That's okay, Austin. Thank you for telling me."

But even though all is well on the surface, even though I'll have him for the night, the whole night, there's this other thought knocking relentlessly on the doors of my awareness, nagging and unpleasant.

That one does freak me out, but I can't bring myself to ask him directly.

So I choose the roundabout way. "So, what's next?

Work-wise, that is. Do you have the next gig already lined up after you go back to Reno? "

He nods. "Working on it. There's this gallery I've had my eyes on for a while and…"

I tune the rest of the story out, nodding every now and again, forcing myself to smile when it seems appropriate.

That's my confirmation.

All of this is temporary, and three weeks from now Austin will be gone and we will be no more. Twenty-one days from now, this, whatever it is, will reach its expiration date.

We will expire.

I sigh and push all of it aside. I can worry about it then. I can be sad then.

For now, I have twenty-one days and I'm going to use every last one of them.