Tyler sighs. Is it contentment? Resignation?
My fingers slide beneath the waistband of his soft, knit boxers, grazing his curls. I continue my rhythmic touches, letting long moments pass as we’re quiet here in the dark. It feels safe. It feels right. And it’s nothing like I’ve ever experienced, lacking the pull of a bad boy’s frantic fingers on my skirt, the clumsy squeeze of my breasts and painful tweak of my nipples.
Tyler’s just lying here, letting me touch him. Comfort him.
I lick my lips against my shallow breathing, knowing what I want but afraid to take it. It takes several long minutes as my fingers skate across his warm, soft skin to work up the courage to do this.
Why am I so hesitant? I’ve done this dozens of times before. But with Tyler, it’s uncharted territory.
I lift my head off his chest and he doesn’t pull me back. I’ve decided he needs to erect some kind of neon stop sign before I’m going to quit. I push myself to my knees and hook my thumbs under each side of his waistband, tugging down until he lifts his hips to give me access.
This is permission.
I climb over one leg and position myself between them, my hands keeping a steady rhythm that brushes across the hair on his thighs and between his legs. His knee shifts an inch or two to the side.
More permission. Encouragement, even. I smile in the dark and plunge my fingers deep between his legs, stroking the seam behind his sac and then across it. He hardens further, his erection standing up from his body, and I bend to take him in my mouth.
Tyler’s breath quickens as I plant soft kisses with my lips and light flicks with my tongue. I pace myself as I listen to his body, his breath in sharp hitches and gratified hisses, his muscles as they tense and relax. I bring him deeper and his hand fists in my hair, my cadence building as I respond to the pulses in his body.
His scent washes over me and I revel in my full capacity to sway him. It’s intoxicating. I think of the ice cubes, when I lay still and Tyler used their sharp cold to explore my body. Now I’m exploring his and my fingers find new ways to draw exquisite reactions from him.
Tyler’s stomach tenses as he pushes himself up on his elbows. “Stella.” His breathing is ragged and he says my name like a plea.
I release him from my mouth and sit back on my feet, my hands still stroking him. His dark-lashed eyes reflect the glow of city lights. “Let me. Let me in.”
Tyler lies back against his pillow again and opens his hands, palms toward me. “Come.”
I move my knees over his legs until I’m straddling him, my center wet and wanting just above him. When I lower myself over his thickness he groans. I slide forward and back on top of him, letting my moisture coat him, but he’s not inside me yet.
The electric current between us builds from a quiet hum to an insistent buzz, as if I’m rubbing a sweater to generate static on a cold winter day. Tyler moans again and his arm reaches above his head to yank open a drawer in his nightstand.
I still, his hard length throbbing beneath me as Tyler’s hand paws desperately in the drawer for something. Oh. A condom. How did the better-safe-than-sorry mantra that I always remember with bad boys get sidetracked in this erotic moment?
I know. Because this isn’t just sex.
Tyler’s frustrated and I lean forward to help him, draping my body across his chest to reach past him and find a foil packet in the drawer. I feel his hands slide up my ribcage and stroke the sides of my breasts and it’s like the lights come on as I feel him finally, intentionally respond to me.
My hand lands on a condom and I snatch it from the drawer victoriously, sitting up as I straddle him and tear it open. I pinch the tip and roll it down slowly, letting this be part of our deliberate, gentle union.
Tyler’s hands make slow circles around my breasts, the rough pads of his thumbs grazing the tips of my nipples. I feel my breasts tighten and I arch my back to give him access. He lifts his head and pulls my body forward to taste them.
His tongue adds fuel to our fire and I’m nearly screaming in anticipation as I push against his chest and angle my hips again, this time catching the tip of his shaft against my cleft. I roll my hips forward and press down, his thickness stretching and filling me. I ease into this overwhelming sensation, as gradually as I can stand it, until I reach his root.
I release the breath I held, but I don’t move on him. Not yet. I’m giving him the space to take us forward.
Tyler’s hands descend to my hips, reaching around to cup my ass and urge me up a little, then back down on him. I feel my core clench as he fills me and withdraws, our cadence increasing as our breath comes harder and faster.
My skin tingles where he touches and grips me, when he quickens the pace and then slows us. He pushes my chest slightly, encouraging me to lean back as he hits a new spot inside me that sets off fireworks in my body.
Sizzle, crackle, pop.
The sounds from our kiss on the bridge on the Fourth of July feel like they’re part of me, replaying in my head as he takes the reins and moves us faster together.
Boom, hiss, fizz.
I’m in overdrive from our connection and the energy builds inside me, every nerve turned inward to experience what’s happening at my center. Tyler strokes me hard, his thumb pressing between us, and suddenly I’m launched into the sky like a firework, feeling my body explode into sparkling points of light.
His movements follow me as I descend like the sparks, and when it seems like the light is fading he thrusts again and I’m launched in another explosion of light and sound and color.
I ride these eruptions as Tyler harnesses the energy in my body, guiding me past the places I know to a map of the stars. When I feel like I can’t take it any more, like I’m flying too high and falling too fast, he jumps with me, his own explosion sending streams of light across my sky.
I shake with feeling, every inch of my skin sparking like a live wire. Tyler’s hands race across my body, containing this energy and blending it back beneath the surface. I collapse on his chest with him still inside me, and he rubs my back, up and down, soothing strokes that bring me back to earth.
Tyler rolls to his side and I roll with him, my head cushioned by my pillow. As he pulls out of me I feel the emptiness and long for him to fill me again. He cleans each of us in turn, then lies back down beside me, his eyes wide with wonder as he strokes my jaw.
“Stella.” His voice is raw but his face is smooth of the worry that pinched it earlier tonight. He kisses a trail from my temple to my lips, his mouth telling me with touch what his words can’t right now.
“I’ve never—I’ve never felt like that before,” I confess, struggling to explain how our lovemaking took me to an entirely different place than just sex.
“I haven’t either,” he says, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me closer to his chest. “You took my breath away. It was—”
I hold my breath as he struggles to choose a word.
“It was more special than you could possibly know,” Tyler says finally. “You’re special, Stella. I knew it the moment I met you, but I didn’t realize—I had no idea how much you’d mean to me.”
“I’ve heard you’re crazy about me.”
“Who told you that?” Tyler’s voice is playful.
“A crazy person.” I grin at Tyler. “I think you’re pretty special too.”
“Stella, you can do better.”
I pull back from him, confusion crinkling my face. “Do better?”
“Don’t play it safe. Tell me. Say what’s real.”
“This. Between us. It’s real.”
“Name it, Stella. What are you feeling? Because I’m not caught up in some gee-whiz-you’re-cool moment right now. You just blew my mind. Don’t wreck it by saying I’m special.”