Page 38 of Next Season
“A what?” I pushed out of his arms and frowned.
“A dildo. You know…” He made a lewd gesture.
“I know what it is,” I huffed. “And no, I’ve never used one. What would I do with a dildo?”
“You would put it in your ass. I’ll show you.” He marched to his nightstand and pulled a ten inch toy from a drawer along with a bottle of lube.
“I—what? I—no, I’m not putting that in my ass. Has it been in yours?”
Jean-Claude shrugged in that casual French-Canadian way of his. “Sure. It’s been a while, but this is a good one. Not too big, you know? And don’t you dare ask me if it’s been washed. You should know me well enough to know I wouldn’t leave a dirty toy in my drawer, eh?”
I chuckled in spite of my apprehension. “I know, I know. I—what’s happening here?”
“We’re going to try something new. You like fingers, you like my tongue…maybe you’d like this. I call him Pierre, but you can change the name if you like.Allez.”
“Wait. I don’t want the toy, Jean-Claude.” I curled my fingers around his shaft and squeezed. “I want your dick.”
He dropped the toy into the drawer and picked up a condom. “You’re sure?”
I nodded slowly. “Yeah. I might not like it, but we both know this was where we were always going, so let’s…do it.”
His nostrils flared as he nodded. “Get on your knees on the bed. Let me look at you.”
I finished undressing in a rush, flung my clothes and shoes somewhere near his, and scrambled to obey. I got on all fours and glanced over to see him stroking himself leisurely as though he had all the time in the world.
“Hurry. My dick is kind of into the idea now. I don’t want to give myself too much time to think.”
Jean-Claude snickered softly. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you can’t think at all. Just relax and show me your ass. Open for me…that’s it. Ah, very nice.”
Okay…let’s take a moment to appreciate how insane this was.
A month ago, I wouldn’t have been here. No way.
We’d gone from kissing to hand jobs and blowjobs in record time, so I wasn’t sure why this seemed like a big deal, yet here I was—naked in a man’s bed in the middle of the day, presenting my ass like a gift for him to unwrap at his earliest convenience.
He climbed behind me, onto the mattress, with a bottle of lube in hand. He slicked his fingers and rubbed featherlight circles while humming something soft and sexy in French. My muscles began to relax. I hung my head low, releasing a cleansing breath as he teased my hole, pushing a finger inside.
That was good. And familiar.
So was the second finger.
I arched into his touch, willing him to do that twisty thing with his wrist and massage my prostate. I liked that. A lot. He didn’t disappoint. I groaned, falling to my forearms to brace myself when he reached between my legs to grip my cock and fondle my balls.
“Mmm. Fuck, be careful. I might come if you keep this up,” I warned.
“You want me to hurry?”
“No, but…shouldn’t you get suited up and you know…get to it?”
Jean-Claude chuckled. “If you say so.”
I looked over my shoulder, spooked at the sound of a condom wrapper. “Wait. I want this…I do, but if I change my mind—”
“We stop,” he supplied, rolling the latex on and adding more lube. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss on my neck. “We won’t do anything you don’t want. You say yes, we go. You say no, we stop. Okay?”
There it was—that impossibly kind side of his, defusing panic with a gentle tone and a reassuring touch. This was the same man who’d brought me tuna salad in a rainstorm and chased me all over a skating rink on his day off. He was gruff and impatient and silly and fun and so fucking sexy…and right this second, I’d never wanted anyone more.
“Okay,” I whispered. “Just tell me what to do.”