Page 20 of Coming Clean

“Eager, aren’t you?” he asked with a smirk.

“Fuck, yes,” I panted. “I can’t wait.”

“You have a very dirty mouth, professor.”

“Yes, I fucking do, and it’s going to get worse if you don’t put your cock in my ass right fucking now.”

He laughed—God, that laugh—and it only made the need in me spike.

“I love hearing those filthy things from you,” he said. “You’re so beautiful, with your silky hair and your soft skin, but you like dirty things, don’t you? You like to be fucked. You want me to plow your ass until you come.”

“Oh my God. Connor, please!”

When he finally pulled his fingers out and reached for the condom, I was already trembling. I lifted my legs, thankful I’d kept myself flexible, and set them on his shoulders.

He pushed in slowly, and I bit my lip hard. Shit, he was big, and I was tight. I had to breathe through it, forcing myself not to tense up.

Little by little, he worked himself in past the barrier that resisted even as every part of me screamed for him.

“God, Jeremy. This is so good,” he moaned.

“I want more. Please, I won’t break,” I told him, lifting my hips. I didn’t care if it hurt. I needed all of him.

“Don’t want… to hurt you.”

“It’s okay. I… Oh God. I need this.”

“I need you too,” he said, voice rough with need. “Need to fuck you until you forget everything but me and my cock inside you.”

“God, yes!”

He thrust in hard, and his balls slapped my ass. I cried out, grabbing his shoulders as he tried to pull away. “More. Don’t you dare slow down.”

“I love it when you talk to me, so don’t stop, okay?” He lifted my legs and wrapped them around his waist, shifting the angle.

“Yes. Oh, fuck. Yes!” I was beyond words, beyond restraint.

He pounded into me, slowly at first, each thrust a delicious torture. I wrapped tighter around him, grinding up to meet him. When that didn’t do the trick, I yanked him down and kissed him, hot and desperate.

Then he let go—really let go. He took my cock in his hand, and I gasped, bucking into his fist, chasing friction.

His face flushed, his eyes fluttered shut, his mouth parted. “Look at me,” I demanded.

He did. And what I saw in his eyes nearly undid me. “Yes, Connor. Oh, yes. So fucking good!”

“Tell me what you want,” he said.

“I want to come. Please, don’t hold back. I… Connor!”

He grabbed a pillow and shoved it under my hips. When he thrust in again, he hit that perfect spot, and I gasped.

“Yes, just like that.”

He didn’t let up. He had me writhing, pushing his cock right against my sweet spot, over and over.

“Come for me. I want to see you do it,” he said.

“Fucking hell.” I shoved his hand away and stroked myself. I was already so close. Seconds later, I tensed and came hard, moaning loudly as I curled in on myself, cum striping my stomach. “Holy fuck,” I muttered, breathless.

Connor was wide-eyed. “That was… You were… I don’t think my brain works anymore.”

Without thinking, I blurted, “‘Lovers and madmen have such seething brains / Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend / More than cool reason ever comprehends.’”

He laughed, and I blushed. Poetry? Really?

“Is that from A Midsummer Night’s Dream ?” he asked.

I grinned. “Yes.” But I didn’t want to talk about Shakespeare. I tightened my ass around him, coaxing him to let go, to come for me like I had for him.

“Fuck!”

He pulled out just a bit, then thrust deep again, stealing my breath.

“I want…” I hesitated, shy all of a sudden.

“What? Tell me what you want.”

I swallowed, my cheeks hot. “I want you to come on me.”

He didn’t say a word.

“Unless… um… you don’t want to.”

Connor

Move. Speak.

“Fuck, yes, I want to.” I somehow managed to pull out and roll the condom off without coming—honestly, a damn miracle. “Trashcan?” I glanced around, praying there was one within reach, because there was no way in hell I was getting off this bed right now.

“Throw it on the floor. I don’t care.”

Normally, that would’ve horrified me, but in that moment, I couldn’t bring myself to give a shit. I rose up on my knees and leaned over Jeremy, bracing myself on one arm while I gripped my cock and stroked hard and fast. There was no stopping it—he’d already driven me to the edge.

“Yes, just like that,” Jeremy said, all breathy and needy. “Show me how much you want me. Cover me with cum.”

Jesus Christ. Hearing those words from his mouth nearly undid me on the spot. “More,” I groaned. “Tell me more.”

“I want to see your cum and mine together. I want to taste it.”

“Fuck, you’re making me crazy.”

And then he said it, all smooth and sinful, like he was whispering filth in Shakespearean verse: “The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, are of imagination all compact.”

That did it. I came hard—like, mind-blowingly hard—heat rocketing down my spine as white-hot pleasure exploded through me. I watched it spill over his flushed skin, beautiful and messy. Jeremy looked up at me with a satisfied little smile like he knew exactly what he’d done to me.

I was wrecked, panting. My arms barely held me up.

Then Jeremy dragged his finger through the mess and sucked it into his mouth while keeping his eyes locked on mine.

Sweet. Fucking. Hell.

“Kiss me,” he whispered.

Nothing could have stopped me. I leaned in and tasted our come on his lips and groaned into his mouth. The kiss burned through my bones. I thought I was spent, but Jeremy lit me up again, wrapping me in a spell I didn’t want to break.

When I finally pulled away, I stared at him, lost for words.

What the hell was I supposed to say? He’d cracked something open in me, shaken me down to my foundation.

I felt unsteady—mentally, physically. How the hell was I supposed to go back to casual, empty hookups after this?

This wasn’t sex. This was something else entirely.

“You okay?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yes. No. I’m not going to run out on you, anyway.”

He smiled at that. “That’s good enough.”

I blurted out, “So what do we do now?” and immediately regretted it. I hadn’t meant to make it sound like what happens next between us? I didn’t know if we had a next. I just knew I didn’t want to fuck it up.

“Shower?” he offered.

He hadn’t taken the question the way I’d meant it—but I was grateful. That simple answer, something I could do, grounded me. One thing at a time. Clean up. Then maybe we’d eat. My stomach grumbled like it was trying to claw its way out of me.

“You hungry?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yes, I haven’t eaten anything today.”

“Wow. I’m surprised you haven’t passed out after what we just did.”

I chuckled. “I used to run ten miles before breakfast every day.”

His jaw dropped a little. “How do you do that? It’s all I can do to shower and get dressed before I eat.”

I shrugged. “I usually just run three or four miles now.”

Jeremy huffed. “You know you could have eaten when we were downstairs.”

“No, I couldn’t. I had to talk to you first.”

“And now?”

“Now? I could eat a whole batch of French toast by myself.”

He laughed, and damn, it felt good to hear it. “Let’s get cleaned up, and I’ll see what I can do about that.”