I moaned like a bitch.
Her body tensed beneath me. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t want you having a moment of a flashback from anything nefarious.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean. I want anything we do to bring you pleasure; nothing you’ve had before. All an equal exchange, if not you receiving more. I want you to enjoy everything we do.”
“And getting you off isn’t supposed to be enjoyable to me?”
My face folded. “Okay. What do you mean?”
Her hands moved to my hips, bringing me closer up her body. She lifted just enough to capture my dick in her mouth and ran her tongue over the head several times, making my stomach do the freefall in no time.
“I want to make you feel good, too,” she murmured, eyes still heavy, but voice turned cold. “I didn’t tell you my secrets for you to make me out to be handicapped. I’m safe. I’m with you. You won’t hurt me…doing this. I know you won’t.”
It wasn’t that I didn’t trust her words, but for a while, I searched her face for an ounce of doubt. I had no fucking idea what I was doing with Tori, but I knew I didn’t want to stop. I knew sex wasn’t necessary, but having the privilege of being this intimate with her was a drug I couldn’t live without.
Without consent, my hips moved, thrusts met her hungry mouth. And Tori made it so fucking good. She was generous with the secretions and her bobbing game was rhythmic. The visual of being sandwiched between her breasts and my head going into her mouth sent me adrift. Oddly, I closed my eyes to a squeeze, enduring the contractions in my damn abs. The heat blossoming in my feet. My head spun, drowning in bliss. Hurled over her, I gripped the headboard with white knuckle force, trying not to let go.
But when I opened my eyes and saw the softness in hers, nothing expressing distress or displeasure, once again, my body acted on its own accord, and I blew. The first of it landed on her chin, then Tori pushed up from the neck and caught the rest in her mouth while I lost a bit of my sanity with each squirt. She was deliberate and fearless, weakening me. The moment she released me from her mouth, I pulled from her tits and reversed down her body, pushing her thighs apart and burying my face in the apex. I licked and sucked and stroked with an unusual companion: passion. It was my burning pleasure to service and satisfy this girl. A girl who didn’t belong to me, but I’d felt an uncanny sense of connection to and protectiveness of.
“Ashton…” spilled like a cry of fear until her hands gripped my head, holding me in place as she assaulted my mouth deliciously, growing my addiction.
I licked until she slowed then kissed until she relaxed each limb in her body and collapsed boneless around me.
When I felt him leave my bed, an eyelid cracked. From the light being on in the bathroom, I could see him slowly get dressed. My eyes swept up to the alarm clock on my nightstand. It was just after eleven. Samantha would be walking in any minute now. I would have overslept if it wasn’t for Ashton. Stupidly, I missed him already and he was only feet away, putting on his clothes. I was mostly naked, wearing just my shirt. He forced me out of bed and to the bathroom after making me come for the third time. Then I helped him do the same for the second time.
How did this happen—again?
The bigger question was my regret. I would spend the next few hours and days searching for it. It was hard with him. Dangerously hard.
Ashton had no idea I was awake when he stalked back over to the head of the bed and kissed my cheek. I watched him creep to the door.
“Ashton…” He turned to me. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Being my mom.”
He shook his head and quietly claimed, “You’re not your mother, and are far from a whore.” There was a long pause before he continued, “You just so happen to start your college career at a time where I’m in a fucked up situation. Trust me, it’s not you at all.”
How could he still sound so convincing? It felt like getting affirmation from the big brother you trusted to protect you. But Ashton was not my brother. He wasn’t even an official friend, I didn’t think.