I COME BACK down to earth, my legs shuddering around Jeremy’s head, the orgasm better than anything I have ever brought myself. I have the sudden realization that I have pushed through a door—the door of awareness. I will never enjoy my orgasms the same, will always compare them to this moment. I close my eyes and wonder what sex will feel like. How his cock will differ from my toys. How the unknown, undirected motion will stack up against my stimulated thrusts. I relax my legs, letting them drop from his shoulders, and feel his hands on my skin as he stands, open my eyes to find him smiling, a crooked, sexy gesture that I can’t help but return. “You look pleased with yourself,” I mumble.
I don’t know dating protocol. Is now when I suck his cock? My limbs are too relaxed, my brain too lazy to do anything other than lie here. He falls onto the bed next to me, the mattress jumping at the additional weight, and both of us stare up at the ceiling. He reaches his arm around me, and I lift my head and allow his arm to steal underneath, relaxing back against the strength of his shoulder.
“Is this okay?” he asks.
I smile. “Yeah. This is cool.” I enjoy the moment, the warmth of him next to me, and curl slightly to the side until I am nestled in the crook of his body. “Are you okay?” I blush, trying to find the right word, my personal dictionary too stocked with crude terms to be ladylike. “Do you want to get off or are you—”
“I’m fine.” He presses a soft kiss onto my head. “I didn’t intend to barrel in here and take advantage of you. In fact… I had big plans to be a gentleman.”
“Is that what that peck in the hallway was all about?”
“Peck?” His scoff makes me smile. “From your reaction, I think it worked pretty well.”
“Easy, Casanova.” I poke his side, admiring when my finger hits hard muscle. “Just making sure you don’t get a big head.”
“I understand. Your biting comments are your way of secretly stroking a man’s ego.”
“Stroking is one of my talents,” I tease, the comment earning me a groan, his body rolling into mine, his hand gripping my back and sliding me closer, until I am flush against him. Then, he reclaims my mouth with one, long, heart-stopping kiss.
Ten minutes later, the witching hour near, we say our good-byes. An hour later, there is the slide of dead bolt through metal, and Simon locks me in for the next eight hours.