Page 22

Chapter 22

Darcy

I am mind-blown. Done. Fucking just… Fuck. I’ve been agonizing over this for weeks, convincing myself that West would never want to be with me this way. That even if he did, he wouldn’t like it. That he would find out my preferences and leave. In hindsight, that was stupid. I’m fully aware that penetration is not a requirement of a healthy sex life and I’ve been with guys who just flat out didn’t like it and therefore we didn’t do it.

But with West? It’s different. I want to. I want him. And worrying that he wouldn’t be okay with it made me feel almost sick. He’s truly been down for everything we’ve done. I have got to stop treating him like he doesn’t know what he wants. From the second we shared our first kiss, he hasn’t shied away from anything we’ve done. Heck, even before that, he didn’t .

“Darcy,” West says, squirming on my fingers. The fingers I still have deep inside him. I look down, my brain coming back to the moment—and him. “Please. I want this. I promise.”

My cock aches at the sight of his hole stretched around my fingers, at the subtle rocking of his hips, at the way his dick is flushed red and drooling pre-cum. Did I expect him to come basically the second I found his prostate? No. Was it quite possibly the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life? Fuck yes.

I drag my fingers out a little, smirking when West chokes on a breath and whines low in his throat. When I push back in, I focus on the heat of his body. How tight he is around me. How each pass of my fingers draws more gasping, groaning sounds out of him.

“Jesus, Darcy. Fuck me already.”

I’ve already told him once that I want to savor this, and I intend to. I duck my head, licking a path up his cock as I work my fingers in and out of his body. He thinks he wants more. And I believe he does, but he also doesn’t understand that there’s a difference between fingers stretching him and a cock. I want him ready. Desperate. So on edge he comes the second I fuck into him. Just like he did on my fingers.

West’s hips jerk. If we’re doing this—and God, I hope we are—he’s going to need more. I pull free of his body to add more lube. He whines in protest at the loss, but when I push back in with three, he sucks in a quick breath, moaning loudly.

Jesus Christ. He’s so responsive. So perfect.

I work my fingers deep, doing my best to make sure this will be a good experience for him.

He gasps when I graze his prostate, his hole clenching around my fingers and his cock jerking. I lap at the head, collecting the pre-cum leaking down his shaft on my tongue .

He’s mumbling under his breath, barely coherent words and when I realize he’s chanting please over and over, my cock throbs. I want to drag this out, but there’s no way I’ll be able to. Not like this. I sit up, quickly making sure he’s stretched enough to take me.

“Condom?” I ask, looking around as my stomach sinks when I realize I didn’t even think about that.

“Don’t need one,” he gasps, rocking his hips against my hand. I crook my fingers, loving the way his entire body arches and the raspy moan that falls from his lips.

“We haven’t had the safe sex talk, West,” I somehow manage to say.

He whines. Fucking whines. “We’re having it now. I’m safe. Promise. You too, right?”

I mean, I am. But he’s just trusting that without even knowing that I wouldn’t lie about it. “Yes. But don’t ever take someone’s word for it. In the future, I mean.”

I’m pretty sure he tries for a laugh, but it doesn’t come out quite right and it ends on a low moan. “Fuck. There is no future that’s not you.” He grabs at the blanket below him with one hand, his fingers on the other flexing where he’s still holding his thigh back. “God—it’s just… you. Just you, Darcy,” he pants, tilting his head into the pillow. My heart slams against my rib cage. “Please. I don’t—I don’t even want to picture a future without you. Fuck… Just—just, Darcy, please. ”

I blink down at him in shock for all of three seconds, then I’m pulling my fingers from his body and surging up to slam my lips to his. It’s brutal and raw and desperate, and I need him so much I can’t even breathe. West drops his leg, choosing instead to drag his fingertips up my back and tangle his fingers in my hair. I grind my cock against his, living for the moan he feeds me when I do. Our kiss is all teeth and no finesse, and when I break away, his pupils are so blown I can’t even see his iris.

“You get that, right?” he mumbles, closing his eyes and letting his head fall against the pillow again. “It’s you, Darcy. It’s just you.”

It feels like I just ran a marathon. My heart rate is through the roof, my lungs burning like there’s no oxygen. Probably because he just stole it all from the room. Fuck. I never stood a chance with him, did I? Reaching down, I lift his leg and line myself up. When the blunt head of my cock is notched against his hole, he groans, pressing his head harder into the pillow, his back arching like he’s trying to force me inside him.

I brace myself above him with one hand and pin his leg to my side with the other, pushing in just enough for the head of my cock to slip inside him. We let out simultaneous moans, but I stop to give him time to adjust. He needs it. He’s so fucking tight. So hot inside. So perfect. “So fucking mine,” I rasp out. “Mine.”

I look down at him to find his mouth open, little breaths puffing out of him. He doesn’t look like he’s in pain, but I need to know for sure. “Are you okay?”

“Yes yes yes.” He opens his eyes as his breath hitches—his chest heaving against mine. “More.”

Pushing in slowly, I give him another inch of my cock, watching as his eyes flutter closed, a pink flush spreading up his cheeks. My God, I’ll never survive this. I push in a little deeper, and he pulses around me, almost strangling my cock with how fucking tight he is.

His fingers dig into my scalp, the bite of his nails just this side of painful, and I lose the battle with my restraint. I thrust forward, gasping at the all-consuming pleasure when I bottom out inside of him.

I’m trying to give him time to adjust, but I can’t help the aborted little thrusts my hips are doing. He just feels so fucking good. I’ve never felt anything this good in my life. His hands leave my hair, but it’s like he doesn’t know what to do with them because they’re gripping my shoulders, moving to my back, digging in and releasing like he’s not sure if he wants to drag me closer or push me away.

I pull out, pausing when the tip of my cock is holding him open, and thrust back in.

“Fuck, Darce,” he moans, clenching around my cock and making me almost delirious with the need to fuck him, to chase the pleasure his body is offering. “I’m so close.”

A laugh bubbles up in my chest before I can stop it. His eyes fly open and he glares at me. “You just came.” I punctuate my words with another slow thrust, mostly because I’m worried about hurting him, but also because I’m going to lose it myself if I don’t.

He starts trembling, his voice breathless and whiny when he says, “I know. I can’t help it. You have some kind of magic dick. Feels good. So good. Please. Oh fuck—please, pleasepleaseplease. ”

Holy fuck.

My body takes over from my mind as I lose all control of myself. I set an almost punishing pace. Every single thrust has his back arching and his nails biting into my skin, leaving a burn in their wake. His hole is pulsing around me, milking me. I grip his thigh, giving myself over completely to the feel of his body, the way he’s shaking, and the litany of moans pouring from his lips.

“This… this is what you were—Oh God, oh fuck—worried about,” he chokes out. “You feel so— ohfuckohfuckohfuck .”

I roll my hips, angling my next thrust perfectly and he absolutely shatters—his entire body goes taut, every muscle tensing as he throws his head back with a whimper. His hole tightens around my cock, forcing me to stop thrusting as his dick throbs against my stomach and soaks both of us in cum .

The rhythmic pulsing of his body around me has me gasping, and all it takes is one slow grind of my hips and I’m coming, my cock throbbing inside him. I’ve never fucked someone without a condom, and something about knowing I’m filling him with my cum has me coming so hard I can’t even see. My vision whites out as I drop all my weight onto his chest and press my forehead to his collarbone.

His body goes slack, his hands resting on my back instead of clawing at it as we lie together, and I work out how to breathe again. I raise up enough to cover West in kisses. His throat, his jaw, and his eyelids, before settling my lips on his. He cups my head while we kiss. It’s slow and lazy and perfect. Fuck. I’m in love with him, aren’t I? That’s why I was so scared to tell him about my sexual preferences. Because I love him.

My chest aches with the realization. God, I love him. I can’t tell him yet. I just can’t, so instead, I kiss him deeper, brushing my tongue across his lower lip before slipping it past his parted lips. I lose track of time while we kiss, but I’m forced to stop when my soft cock slips from his hole and he winces. “Fuck. Did I hurt you?”

“No. That was the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life.” I watch him, trying to make sure he’s telling the truth. “What does it look like?”

“Huh?” I ask, confused.

“Your cum dripping out of me. I can feel it. What does it look like?”

This man is going to end me. I’m going to die. He’s going to kill me. I press one more kiss to his lips and sit back, pushing his thighs toward his chest so I can see. The sight of my cum dripping from his hole onto the bed shouldn’t be so hot, but my dick is twitching, trying to rally even though I just came harder than I ever have in my entire life.

I catch the leaking cum with my thumb without conscious thought and push it back into his body, making him moan in the process. “Jesus, West. It’s fucking hot. ”

“I wanna see,” he mumbles.

I pull my thumb free of his hole and climb off the bed in search of my phone. Grabbing it from the pocket of my pants, I rush back to him and kneel between his spread legs.

Instead of taking a photo, I hit the record button. I hold the phone with one hand and push my cum back into him with the other, waiting until more leaks out before doing it again. When he’s twitching and moaning, I stop recording and hand the phone to him. I take in his face, watching as his eyes widen. “Holy shit, Darce. That’s so fucking hot.”

“Told you,” I say, chuckling a little.

He tosses the phone to the side and squeezes his eyes closed. “You’ve ruined me.”

I curl up against his chest, running my fingers down his throat. “You’ve ruined me too. Let’s go shower. We’re a mess.”

After our shower, we’re sitting side by side on West’s bed and he’s barely talking to me and something about that has me a little panicky. “Are you okay?” I ask, holding my breath.

His lips tilt up in a sweet smile. “Yeah, Darce. I’m amazing. I’m just trying to figure out a way to ask you to stay without you telling me you can’t be here all the time.”

“I’ll stay,” I interject. I don’t want to leave. Not even a little.

His shoulders slump. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m forcing you. ”

I crawl into his lap and wrap my arms around his neck. “You’re not. Leaving wasn’t in my plans at all anyway. So you didn’t even need to ask.”

He holds me to him, and I settle into his warmth. I’ve got it bad. “Do you think you can read to me again?” I ask into his throat.

He hums. “Of course. Will you lie in my lap again?”

Not even a question. “Of course.”

I pull away to grin at him. We hold eye contact while my heart skips around in my chest. With a soft chuckle, he brushes his thumb along my jaw and plants a gentle kiss on my lips. “Let me go grab my book. I’ll be right back.”

I climb off his lap and sit patiently, waiting for him. When he gets in bed and sits against the headboard, I rest my head on his thigh. His hand finds its way into my hair, and he starts reading.

I close my eyes, letting his voice wash over me. I love the way he forms the words, how his tone changes with each one, how he brings the characters to life. It’s soothing. Relaxing.

“You’re good at this,” I murmur quietly.

He laughs softly. “What? Reading? I should hope so.”

“No,” I say, laughing with him. “You’re good at that too. But I meant bringing the story to life. It’s like your voice transforms it—makes it feel real. Tangible. Like I could almost reach out and touch it.”

West hums. “That’s the point of storytelling, though, right?”

“Yeah,” I agree. “But not everyone can do it the way you do. Not everyone can make me just exist in the world with it. You’re going to be an amazing teacher.”

His breath hitches, his fingers pausing their stroking of my hair. “Thank you, Darcy,” he whispers .

I wonder for a second if I’m the first person outside of his English teacher to have told him that. If I’m the first person to believe in him. “You’re welcome. It’s easy to exist in your world, West. Like breathing. Thoughtless and with no effort. It’s nice—to just exist with you.”

He’s quiet for a minute, and when he finally speaks, his voice sounds a little choked. “It’s easy to exist with you too, Darcy.”

I love you I want to tell him. I love you so much. “Keep reading?”

“Anything you want.”