"That's the idea." He takes me deep again, throat relaxing, and the feeling of him swallowing around me.
"Fuck!" My hips buck. "Sorry, sorry —"
"Don't apologize. Love how responsive you are. Love the sounds you make."
He goes back, one hand cupping me gently, adding sensation that layers on top of his mouth until I can't distinguish one pleasure from another. I'm close. He can tell.
"Silas, I'm gonna — you should —"
He takes me deeper in response, eyes locked on mine. The eye contact does it. I come with a cry I muffle against my arm, back arching, and he swallows everything, working me through it until I'm whimpering from oversensitivity.
He pulls off gently. Kisses my hip. My stomach. Works his way back up my body, pressing his mouth to every part of me.
"Holy shit," I manage.
"Good?"
"No one's ever done that for me before."
Something protective flares in his eyes. "Their loss."
He kisses me, deep and tender. I can taste myself on his tongue and I don't care, I just pull him closer. He's still in his jeans. I can feel him hard against my thigh.
"Your turn," I say, reaching for his waist.
He catches my wrist. Gently. "Wait."
"What?"
"I want more." His voice is rough, careful. "Want to be inside you. If you want that. Only if you want —"
"Yes." No hesitation. "God, yes. I want that."
He kisses me hard, then pulls back. Looks at me.
"You've done this before?"
The question.
The truth: no. Never. Not this, not the mouth, not anything beyond fumbling kisses and one terrible handjob in a group home when I was seventeen that lasted ninety seconds and meant nothing. I am, by every meaningful definition, a virgin.
The truth will stop him. I know this with the certainty of someone who has studied this man for weeks. If I say no, I've never done this, his brain will fire. The responsible brain. The one that did the math on the sidewalk and decided the sum was too dangerous. He'll stop. He'll be kind about it, he's always kind, but he'll pull back and suggest we wait, and the eveningwill end with him holding me while his conscience wrestles with his desire.
I can't do that again. I can't watch him retreat because my inexperience tips the balance even further between us.
So I lie.
"Twice," I say. "A while ago. Not... not like this, though." I make myself meet his eyes. "Not with someone who matters."
His face softens. "You matter to me too. So much."
The lie sits in my throat like a stone. But his hands are on me and his mouth is on mine and he reaches into the nightstand without hesitation. He's not stopping. He's not spiraling. He's here, with me, because I removed the obstacle.
I'm not proud of it. But I'd do it again.
He warms the lube between his fingers, making sure it's not cold, making sure even this small thing isn't a discomfort.
"How do you want to do this?" he asks.