Emboldened by the fact that I am so clearly affecting him, I begin kissing his stomach, licking that sexy-as-sin V muscle as I caress him. An overwhelming urge to taste him, to give him the pleasure I know he’s seeking, consumes me.
When I move my hand away from him, I hear a soft breath pass through his lips. My tongue darts out and softly licks a path from root to tip. His neck arches; his stomach flexes; his chest rises and falls rapidly with ragged breaths.
Licking the same path a few more times has him moaning my name and breathing heavily as if he can’t get enough oxygen to his lungs. I wrap my lips around him and take as much of his length as I can into my throat. Bryan sweeps my hair to the side as he gently cups the back of my head. There’s no force or anything like that. Just a loving reverence as he guides my mouth up and down. “Melanie … your mouth … so fucking perfect …”
When I feel his motion get more frantic and less rhythmic, I give him one last lick and stand next to the couch. I’ve got something that I hope will be even more perfect than my mouth. I step out of the rest of my clothes and pull the condom out of the back pocket of his jeans.
As I tear the foil wrapper of the condom with my teeth, Bryan rolls to his side and supports his body on his elbow. With his other hand, he softly traces a line from between my breasts, down my stomach, which flexes under his touch. When he plunges two fingers into my core, his name falls from lips without warning. Rocking back and forth on his fingers drives me crazy. “Bryan, I need you to be inside of me now. Please, baby.”
As he continues the beautifully relentless motion of his fingers, he grumbles, “And I want nothing more than to be buried inside of you.” With those words, he stops his masterful torture and takes the condom from my hands. After he rolls it down, he grabs me by the waist and pulls me onto him, but only a little bit.
“Go slow, baby. I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers as he helps guide me inch-by-inch. When my legs are shaking and I feel like I can’t take it anymore, I slam my hips down onto his and take his entire length inside of me.
“Oh God, Bryan … you feel …” I don’t know the word to end that sentence. I just know that I’ve never felt like this before – so full, so connected, so in love.
“I know, baby. You do too.” And then his lips crash into mine as he pulls my face down to his. His arms wrap around my waist once again as he takes control of our motion – pushing up into me and pulling me down onto him.
His tongue plunges in my mouth as his fingers tangle in my hair. Our chests are pushed together and the friction of my nipples rubbing up against the light dusting of hair scattered across his chest sends a gush of wetness to my core. When he angles his hips forward, hitting that sweet spot deep within, I lose control.
Bliss. Pure unadulterated bliss races through my veins and my body moves on its own accord. It thrashes wildly, yet still remains in perfect sync with Bryan’s motions. He reaches his hand in between our joined hips and begins rubbing my clit, matching the frenzied and frantic pace of his thrusts.
“Bryan … Bryan …” His name falls from my lips as I fall beautifully over the edge of bliss. “Melanie … I can feel you … oh God …” And on one final thrust deep inside of me, he calls out my name and shudders with our joined release.
When the adrenaline fades away and our lungs calm, I move to get off of him. Instead of letting me go, he just pulls me closer and begins combing his fingers lightly through my hair. “Can we just stay like this for a bit?” he asks quietly.
I place my hand over his heart and press my lips lightly to his chest. “Of course we can.” He offers no response. Instead, he just squeezes me tightly and kisses the top of my head, which is tucked securely under his chin.
Somewhere in between being fully asleep and still awake, I hear Bryan’s voice filter into my consciousness. The velvet timbre of his rich voice lulls me to sleep further. Through my slumber-induced haze, I don’t even realize that I’m no longer lying on top of him and that he’s sliding his arms under my knees and shoulders. Instinctually, I wrap my arms around his neck for support and nuzzle into his chest. The last thing I feel before he places me on my bed and pulls me into his arms once again, are his lips tenderly pressing against my temple as he wishes me sweet dreams.
9
“Hey, baby. How are you feeling? Did you sleep well last night?” Bryan asks cheerfully as I greet him at my door.
“I’m better. I guess I just needed some rest,” I answer lamely as I pull my heavy winter jacket on. Closing the door to my suite behind us, we walk out into the brisk air and make our way across the quad to class.
When we get into the science building, he leans down and kisses my forehead as if he’s checking for a fever. He won’t feel anything, though. I wasn’t really sick this past weekend. I just needed a break from the guilt-ridden feelings. I told him I had some kind of flu and just hid out in my room all weekend. Of course, being the caring man that he is, he insisted on coming over to take care of me. After more than a few reassurances that I would be just fine, he relented and let me get my rest.
It helped that Peyton was rarely in the room. Between researching for her thesis and working in the writing lab, she was gone practically the entire weekend. Of course Cammie and Lia were concerned and brought me chicken noodle soup and ginger ale. That didn’t do much to abate my guilt. It just transferred it.
As we make our way up to the third floor, in what feels to me like an uncomfortable silence, Bryan pulls me close to his side, and asks, “Are you sure you’re okay? You seem a little off this past week.”
I smile up at him brightly and say, “Yeah, I’m good. I promise.” The alternative would be a lot less pretty and all too real. So, instead of being real, I plaster on a smile and walk the rest of the way to class.
When we arrive outside of my biology lab, Bryan stands in front of me and laces our fingers together, holding our hands in between us. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks again and it’s starting to piss me off. Him caring isn’t the problem, though. The fact that he knows me well enough to know that something is bothering me is what’s getting under my skin. It just makes me feel even worse about everything.
Biting back my anger and guilt, I wrap my puffy coat-covered arms around his waist and hug him as tightly as our bulky winter clothing will allow me to. Angling my head up so that I can look into his eyes, I try my best to reassure him. “Really, Bryan. I’m good. I guess I’m still just a little tired, but I’m fine. I promise.”
Burying his nose into my hair, he sighs. He doesn’t believe me; I know it. Luckily, a few other students come up to the doorway, and I know I only have a few minutes left before class starts.
He pulls us to the side of the door and takes a step back. Scanning my face for some hidden answer, one that I hope he won’t find, he asks “So then can I see you tonight?”
The professor chooses this moment to walk past us and he makes a concerted effort to clear his throat as he does, clearly indicating that I need to get myself in the room as soon as possible. “Sure. I mean, let me see. I have two tests this week and a paper due on Wednesday. I’ll call you later.” I kiss him quickly and slide past him and into the classroom.