At least, that’s what I tell myself.
I read slowly from the book about Mr. Darcy being judged for being too proud. Charlotte sticks up for him. Elizabeth pushes back. This chapter is a shorter one, but it’s important for the story. All the while, Cassius works skilled fingers into my shoulders, and my tension sheds away.
“We should do this every day,” I say, closing the book when the chapter is done.
“I wouldn’t have an issue with that,” he adds. “Let’s add it to the schedule.”
“Oh, are you making the schedule now?” I glance up at him again, raising an eyebrow.
“I’d put lots of fun stuff on there.”
I gesture with a jerk of my head to his spot. “Kneel and tell me of thisfun stuff.”
Lingering a moment, his hands finally fall from me, and he comes back around the couch to kneel.
“Go on,” I urge, taking in his slightly pink cheeks. He was either worked up while touching me, which is something I shouldn’t be thrilled about, or he’s nervous about telling me his thoughts.
“There would be no uniform every day.”
“But you look so good with it on.”
“You look at me differently when it’s off,” he says so seriously, catching me off guard. “We would read every day. I’d give you a massage. I liked you shaving me. And, uh… I’d cum on your food every day.”
“You like that, do you?” I ask, tugging on my pants to loosen the area around my erection.
“Very much.”
“What else?”
“Maybe you would pet me more.”
His cheeks get real pink now.
“Are you embarrassed that you like that?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
“Move your mat here.” I gesture to the spot closer to my feet. “Come closer to me.” It takes him only a few seconds to do as I ask, and I tap my thigh. “Rest your head here.” Cassius places his head on my thigh. “Get comfortable. Rest your arm up here, if you need to.”
He moves around a bit until he gets into a comfortable position where he’s leaning against the couch, while his head is resting on my thigh. I brush my fingers through his hair, running my finger along his ear, down his neck, along his shoulder, thenback to his hair. I shift around, letting his head lay better across my lap so he doesn’t wake with a stiff neck.
His breathing slows, eyelids flutter. He melts against me.
I should wake him… but I don’t.
I run my fingers along his jaw, stopping beneath his full bottom lip. I brush the underside, wondering what they feel like.
What would it be like to kiss someone like Cassius Carr? Someone who is so freely himself? Who is so full of energy and life and not giving a fuck?
My heart rate slows. My nerves dissipate. Time passes. The clock ticks get slower and slower.
My eyes flick open and I look around the empty, quiet room, then down at the man still resting on my lap. His snores are soft, hardly heard over the crackling of the electric fireplace. I blink a few times, then check the time on my watch.
12:51 am.
Well past the time he should have gone, and I should have been in bed. Still, I can’t help but look down at Cassius, his lips slightly parted, eyelashes spread along his cheeks. He is beautiful, much more beautiful than he thinks.
I should wake him, tell him that he should get home and go to sleep. I so badly want to take him upstairs to my room, but that is far beyond a bad idea.