Perfectly Reckless

Thirty-Five

#chapter Thirty-Five

There’s a certain comfort in being with someone you can be in your PJ’s with. Face scrubbed, hair in a bun on top of my head to keep it from getting tangled while I sleep, I get into bed beside Daniel in my favorite flannel jammies. They’re not sexy, but they are warm.

He’s propped up on the pillows, reading something on his phone. I lean to kiss his bare shoulder before tucking myself into my own pillows. I’m tired, a little tipsy from the wine and this new decision to make what we had something more official. I’m thinking of nothing but sleep when he turns out the light and rolls over to spoon me. I mean…there’s nothing more to expect, really. I already know there won’t be any sex.

Except he kisses the back of my neck, his breath hot. His hand moves up to cup my breast. Thumb my nipple erect. I don’t mean to react so quickly, but I guess I’m wired for touch. Should I feel bad about this? Because I don’t.

My hand goes behind his neck as I turn my face for his kiss. I roll to face him, my knee nudging between his thighs. I press myself against him. Mouths open. Tongues stroke. We kiss for long minutes. When he slides a hand between us, I gasp a little.

“You like that.” It’s not a question.

“Yes,” I say.

“Good.” He rubs gently on the outside of the flannel.

I want him to push his hands inside. Touch my bare skin beneath. But that’s selfish of me; even if he has already on a few occasions made me come without any hope of reciprocity, that doesn’t mean I should take advantage of it. Still, I shudder a little at the pressure of his fingers on my clit through the soft fabric.

“Too many clothes,” he murmurs. “Take these off.”

I hesitate. “Are you sure?”

Even if he seems to have at least mostly accepted his inability to get an erection, I don’t want to pressure him. I don’t want to be unfair, or teasing. But Daniel nods and gives me a grin I can see in the light from the window outside. He tugs at the waistband of my pajamas.

“Off.”

Together, we work me free of the confines of my pajamas. Naked, I lay on my back and put my hands over my head to grip the spindles of my headboard as he moves his hand over my body. Daniel covers me with caresses. Hands, followed by mouth. He draws a line of kisses along my collarbones, over my breasts until he takes my nipple in his mouth and tugs gently at it.

“Oh, yes.” It feels so good. I arch into the touch. He sucks a little harder. Then to the next one while his fingers keep up the delicious pressure on the first, still wet from his mouth.

His breathing becomes ragged as he moves back and forth between them. He pushes my breasts together so he can get his mouth on both more easily. Lying between my legs, he pushes his belly against my cunt and I rock my hips upward without a second thought. My clit on his bare skin makes me want to moan, but my breath is so caught in my throat all I can do is let out a long, shuddering sigh.

“So fucking sexy,” he says against my skin.

Daniel’s mouth moves lower. Over my ribs. Along the inside of my arm. He pauses at my elbow to mouth me there; it tickles and I squirm. A little lower. He holds my hand, turning my wrist upward so he can see the word inked there.

“Enough,” he whispers, but doesn’t kiss my still-wounded flesh.

“Yes.” I sit up, and so does he. I touch the skin close to his new tattoo. “I chose enough. You chose forever.”

“Could mean the same thing,” Daniel says.

I don’t think so, but I don’t say it. I find his mouth with mine and let the kiss speak, instead. My body will tell him what I can’t convince my words to say.

He pushes me back against the pillows again. Kneeling in front of me, he pushes his pants over his hips, his thighs, then off. I don’t want to stare, so I keep my eyes on his face. Daniel covers me with his body as we kiss.

He moves down it again, marking every spot with his mouth and hands. The residue of pain euphoria from the tattoo faded hours ago, replaced by a less pleasant stinging ache, but his kisses ease that to the back of my mind. I let myself relax into the caresses.

Daniel’s mouth moves over my hip, nibbling at the tattoos there. My thigh. My knee, which makes me giggle and squirm. He cuffs my ankle to hold my leg still as he works his way down, making sure to kiss the tops of my feet. Gretel said that’s the place tattoos hurt the worst, and I understand why — I don’t think anyone’s ever kissed me there, and the sensation is tingly and prickly and utterly delicious. His strong hands work at my arch, easing aches I didn’t know I had. When he kisses my instep, my foot jerks involuntarily.

“I’m not going to suck your toes,” he promises with a laugh. “Unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

“I don’t think so.”

He moves up my leg. Inner thigh. His breath caresses my pussy, and I hold my breath, waiting for his kiss. The slickness of his tongue. His fingers inside me.

He makes me wait.

When at last I feel the pressure of his mouth on me, I arch and sigh. Eyes closed, my hands again find the headboard, gripping tight. I want him to take control of this. Do whatever he wants. It feels important to me, somehow, like I’m giving him something he wouldn’t think to ask for.

His moan resonates inside me, and for a moment I tense. I don’t look at him. I rock my hips against his mouth, but just a little. His tongue flickers on my clit. He pushes my thighs wider apart, hands going under my ass to hold me to his lips and tongue. When he sucks gently on my clit, I cry out.

Daniel moans again. He moves me against him, and the synchronicity of mouth and hands has me edging closer and closer. The headboard creaks from the tightness of my grip.

“You are so good at this.” My voice is low and rough, rasping. My back arches a little more, pressing my head onto the pillow. I turn it from side to side, slowly, as my hips rock.

“You taste so good. You feel so good. Fuck, Maura. You are so…” He trails off, his attention back on my clit.

I’m riding this wave of pleasure, getting closer, when he stops so abruptly I have to look at him. Daniel’s kneeling between my legs, his mouth wet and open. Eyes hungry. His fist grips his cock, stroking…and he’s hard. Getting harder as I watch.

I don’t know what to do, what to say. He knows I see it, but if I say something, will it ruin it for him? Will he lose his erection? Should I touch him?

“Just…stay right there,” he says. “Can you touch yourself for me, Maura? While I watch?”

My hand moves between my legs without hesitation. I’m already so close that the tweak of my fingers on my clit is enough to make my cunt clench. I push two deep inside me, finding heat and wetness. My thumb strokes my clit while I move my fingers in and out, mimicking the pace he’s set with his fist.

Daniel’s head goes back. The muscles in his arms stand out. The infinity symbol over his heart is very, very black against his skin. It jumps with the beat of his heart. He pumps his cock slowly, then faster. We’re working together though neither of us is touching each other.

“I’m going to come.” I say it quietly, each word almost a stutter. So close. Feels so good. I know how to bring myself pleasure faster than anyone else ever has, but it’s different when I do it myself. I’m teasing, letting myself get closer to the edge without going over. I’m waiting for him.

Praying for him, actually, though I’m sure God has better things to do than worry about a guy losing a hard-on. Still, I know this is embarrassing for Daniel. Something hard to live with. If I can do anything at all to help him come, I’ll pray.

“Oh. Fuck.” He grits his teeth, fist pumping faster. Sweat has beaded on his brow and lip. His face is flushed. “Oh, yeah…”

I take a chance, offer him the encouragement of my voice. My fingers circle faster. I groan. I sigh. “Come for me, Daniel. I want to see you come.”

He looks at me, really at me. Focusing. “I’m going to come.”

“Yes,” I breathe, tipping over with him. “Come for me.”

The first shot hits the bed next to my head like a bullet, so hard I actually hear it thump the pillow. He jets, shuddering, cock throbbing. It spills over his fist, over his belly. All over mine. My orgasm hits me in slow ripples — it feels good, but I’m pretty sure it’s not even close to what he’s feeling.

He comes forever. Shaking. When at last his hand stops stroking, his shoulders hunch. He lets out a long, low sigh. When he looks at me, finally, I can only imagine what he must see — he’s covered me with the evidence of his pleasure.

He crawls up my body to kiss me. “Thank you.”

“You’re…welcome.” It feels silly to say, but it’s the only thing I can think of.

Without asking, Daniel pads naked into my bathroom and comes back with a warm, wet cloth that he uses to clean me and the bed and anything else that needs it. Then, still naked, he crawls into bed beside me and falls asleep.

I am sexually sated. I am more than a little humbled and flattered. I potentially have a boyfriend, now, and yes, it looks as though we might eventually, actually fuck.

But I can’t sleep.

I get up from the bed and slip on my pajamas. I go to the kitchen to make myself a cup of tea. I think about what it means, this new thing. If I want to do it with Daniel. Or at all. If I even can. And while I’m thinking, I go to my laptop and scroll the blogs I read, my Connex wall. It’s late and I’m tired, and I’m not…unhappy.

But if this boyfriend thing is going to work, I’m sure the negotiations will include no dating, so though I haven’t even logged into my Luvfinder account in over a month, I figure I might as well delete it now while the world of dreams dances out of reach. I log in. Scroll through my profile, to my account. I try to find the place where I can delete my account, unsurprised to discover they don’t make it easy. I find what I need, and in one last moment of casual curiosity, I check my nudges.

And that’s when everything falls apart.

That’s when my world breaks, shatters. Because when I click on the long list of requests, there is only one name that stands out to me in all of them.

Ian.