by Jagger Cole
Bellamy blushes.
“Tell me what you want,” I groan.
“You.”
“Tell me,” I growl.
She trembles. She licks her lips tentatively. “I—I really liked your…” she blushes deeply. “Your mouth. Your tongue.”
I groan. I kiss her, and then I’m sliding down the bed, and down her body.
“Vincent,” she gasps.
I push her legs apart and slide between them. Her pussy is flushed pink and still slick from our love making. It’s puffy from my cock taking her. Time to kiss it all better.
I slide my tongue over her. She gasps, and I swipe my tongue up her lips, parting them. Bellamy moans. Her stomach tightens, and her hips raise.
“Oh my God.”
I push my tongue deeper, tasting the tangy sweetness of her. Jesus Christ I could live off the taste of her pussy. I groan and tongue her faster. I slurp at her clit, sucking the little button. Bellamy goes crazy and starts to moan loudly. She thrashes beneath me, but I pin her to the bed with my hands, and my tongue.
I draw the pleasure from her body as she moans and gasps for me. I bear down, adding pressure to her clit. I fuck her with my tongue and let my hungry growls rumble into her. She shakes and quivers. Her body writhes and twists. And soon enough, she cries out.
“Oh fuck! Vincent!”
She comes hard. Her little pussy floods my tongue with her cream, and I eagerly drink it down. Her hands grip my hair and pull me up. I oblige, sliding up her body. She pulls me closer and I kiss her. Bellamy whimpers, kissing me back and licking the cum off of my lips.
“I want—” she blushes when she pulls away. “I want to do that to you.”
I groan. “Shit, Bellamy.”
“Let me,” she whispers. “And tell me… I… tell me what feels good?”
She rolls us over. She pushes me back into the sheets and slides down my body. I groan, watching her slide between my legs. Her lips kiss down my abs, following the trial of hair. Her small hand wraps around my thickness, and I hiss. She kisses slower. Her mouth hovers by the base of me.
“Bellamy,” I groan.
“You’re so big,” she murmurs. She gives me a stroke, and I gasp. She kisses the base with those soft lips, and I could die a happy man. She looks up, and her eyes hold mine. She sticks her tongue out and runs it up the length of me, never looking away from my eyes. Her lips slide over the crown, and she hums softly.
“Oh, holy shit!” I hiss.
She pulls away quickly. “Bad?”
“Fuck no,” I growl.
She giggles. “So, good?”
“Really, really fucking good,” I groan.
“Good.
She does it again, slipping her hot mouth over my cock head. She dances her tongue around the crown, and I’m putty for her. She doesn’t take me very deep. But she bobs her mouth over the head in this seductive way that has my eyes rolling back. My muscles clenching.
She strokes my cock up and down with both hands, tonguing the tip. She moans when she tastes a spurt of precum, and pulls away with a gasp.
“Did you…”
I grin. “Not yet. That comes out first.”
She looks at me and leans forward. Her tongue sticks out and laps at the drop.
“Jesus,” I hiss.
“Yummy,” she whispers. She slips her mouth over me, bobbing her lips up and down. My hand moves on its own accord, and I grip her hair in a fist. She moans louder.
“Show me” she murmurs around my dick.
I resist the urge to plunge my cock into her mouth. I have no interest in the world in forcing her or hurting her. But I guide her. I gently bob her up and down, showing her. She moans, sucking eagerly. My balls tighten.
“Bellamy,” I groan.
She moans and slides her mouth from me. “Are you going to come?”
“Yes,” I hiss.
“Do it in my mouth.”
Christ. That alone literally almost pushes me over the edge.
“Bellamy…”
“Come in my mouth, Vincent.”
She slips her mouth over my cock again. Instantly, I lose control. My balls spasm, and the cum spurts from my head. It spills hot over her tongue, and she gasps in surprise. But she moans and holds it in. I keep coming, lost in the pleasure and filling her mouth. When my cock stops throbbing, Bellamy looks at me and swallows, my cock still in her mouth. She pulls away, giggling and wiping a drop from her lips.
“Holy… fuck…” I manage to choke out.
She blushes. “Okay?”
“Fucking amazing,” I growl.
“You don’t have to sugar coat it. Give me the honest feedback.”
I stare at her. “Bellamy, I can barely talk.”
“Is that a good thing?”
I laugh and pull her up. “Come here,” I chuckle. “Yeah, that’s a very, very good thing,” I groan.
She blushes as I lean in to kiss her. “Wait, I’ll go brush my—”
“Come here.”
I pull her down and kiss her, deeply and hard. I don’t stop, either. I keep kissing her, just holding her against me.
“What else can we do,” she hums softly.
I grin. “What else do you want to do?”
“Everything,” she blurts. Her eyes are hungry, and she wets her lips with her tongue. She leans close and kisses my ear. “I want everything with you, Vincent.”
13
Bellamy
1 year ago:
“I can’t believe you actually came out!”
I shrug. “What, I like parties.”
Celeste rolls her eyes. “Sure. And I like knockoff clothing brands.” I laugh, and my roommate pulls my arm. “Come on,” she grins, pulling me into the mansion. I guess the appropriate name is chateau. It belongs to this rich guy Celeste knows named Etienne. I’m not clear on what he does. But his parents have money.
That’s really the only kind of person Celeste hangs out with. Our school is all girls. But once we turn eighteen, we’re allowed to sign out of the campus on weekends as long as we’re back before curfew. Correction: were allowed to check out of campus if we’re not the daughter of a mafia boss attending under a fake name. But what my dad doesn’t know won’t hurt him. And there’s no Vincent around to tell me I can’t have fun.
I’m not sure why I agreed. But it’s got a lot to do with being newly eighteen, and with wanting to explore more. Celeste pulls me through the opulent house full of fancy people. Some are a lot older than us, especially guys. Some look like that’s exactly why they’re here, which is a little creepy.
“This is Etienne,” Celeste says causally. A handsome guy in his twenties turns to smile at her.
“Ça va?” He winks. He leans close and kisses her. Then he just keeps kissing her. I blush and look away until I hear Celeste laugh.
“Melissa gets shy about PDA”
“PDA?” Etienne questions.
“Public display of affection.”
He laughs and turns to me. “I see. Well, Melissa,” he says. “What about private ones?”
I blush harder. Etienne glances at Celeste and arches a brow. She does the same to him.
“Her?” My roommate smirks at her friend. Wait, what? Etienne shrugs.
“If you want, baby.”
Celeste turns to me with a curious look. It’s like she’s appraising me. “Noooo,” she finally says with a laugh. “No, I don’t think she could do that.”
I frown. “Sorry, do what?”
“Threesome,” she says causally. “You and me with Etienne.”
My jaw smacks the floor. “Excuse me?!” I gasp.
She laughs. “See? Exactly what I mean?”
Etienne laughs too. I feel like I’m being made fun of for reasons I don’t quite get.
“Maybe I should go,” I mumble.
“No, no stay!” Etienne smiles. “I have someone you should meet.” He turns and pulls on a man’s arm. Another good-looking guy around his age turns.
“Claude, this is Melissa.”
He smiles. “Ca va, Melissa?”
“Ça va bien, et toi?”
He grins. “American?”
“Yes.”
“She’s shy,” Celeste giggles.
“I don’t like crowds either,” Claude says. I notice Celeste and Etienne leaving me alone with him. “Maybe we could go somewhere quieter?”
Red flags go up in my head. “Oh, no thank you,” I say quickly.
He smiles curiously. “You’re a virgin.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s okay if you are.”
I stammer. “I— I’m going to go.”
“Sometimes it’s easier if you just let it go, you know.”
I stare at him. Who the hell even talks like this?
“You’re waiting for Mr. Perfect, Melissa. But Mr. Perfect doesn’t exist. Maybe take Mr. right here, right now,” he grins. “I promise, I can make you come so good.”
I blanch again. “Yeah, I have to go.” I turn, and I walk away. I keep walking until I’m outside. I march over to the car Celeste and I came in and knock on the window. The driver quickly flicks his cigarette away.
“Oui?”
“L’Etoile, s’il vous plaît,” I say quickly.
He frowns. “You want to go back to school already?”
“Yes.”
“We just got—”
“Please.”
He shrugs and starts the car. “Okay.”
Claude is wrong. I don’t need or want Mr. “right here and right now.” Because Mr. Perfect does exist. He’s just eleven years older, on the other side of the ocean from me, and living his own life. And he’s completely oblivious to the way I feel.
Present:
I wake up alone. The bed is empty, surrounding me in white sheets. For a moment, I feel sad that he’s not here with me. But I hear the sounds of something downstairs, and I smile. I don’t have to worry. I know I never have to worry about Vincent not being around, or here for me. He always has been, even when he wasn’t right there with me.
I shift in the bed and groan. Shit, I’m sore. Really sore. I was sore after the first time. But then there were three more times before we finally collapsed into sleep. But I love the feeling. I love the reminder of him.
I pull back the sheets and look down. There are bruises on my hips and my thighs. Bruises that look like finger marks. But I just smile. I like that I’m marked by him; like tattooed reminders of something I’ll never forget.
I slide from the bed. In the bathroom, I hold my own gaze for a long time in the mirror. I like what I see. I don’t look different. It’s not like yesterday I looked like a virgin and today I don’t. But I sure feel different. And I like it a lot.
I take a quick shower and brush my teeth. I realize I’m pawing through clothes I haven’t worn in years. It’s like I’m trying to find the right outfit for a date. I stop and roll my eye at myself. It’s just Vincent.
Well, it’s not “just” Vincent. But it’s Vincent. It’s the man who’s known me forever. I end up putting on whatever and going downstairs.
I can smell something delicious from the kitchen, and my stomach groans. Is that French toast? I freaking love French toast. And I love that he knows that about me. I walk in smiling, but the kitchen is empty. I frown. But then I look over to the patio off the kitchen. He’s outside, on the phone.
I pour some coffee and sip it. I watch him, gesturing angrily. Not having his body near me feels weird after last night. I walk over and crack the door open a little. I’m not trying to eavesdrop, just reach out to touch and let him know I’m up. But the angry tone of his voice stops me.
“No! No, goddamnit, listen to me!”
I roll my eyes. It sounds like work stuff. It actually sounds like someone else in the organization, maybe someone under him, screwed up bad. Vincent’s back is to me, and I don’t think he hears me step out. I take a sip of coffee and walk towards him, just to touch him.
“Fuck you, Kelly,” he snarls.
I frown and pause.
“That is none of your fucking business! You know what? Fine.”
I stop cold. He’s not chewing out an underling. This is a woman. And this sounds incredibly personal.
* * *
“Yeah, you’re goddamn right. There’s someone else.”
* * *
My heart twists. My mouth shuts as tightly as I’m gripping the coffee cup. Because it’s clear Vincent’s talking to a girl he knows. And it sounds like it’s a girl he knows “like that.” But he’s telling her off and saying there’s something else. That does make me smile.
“What?!” Vincent seethes. “No! Jesus Christ. No. Her? I used to be her bodyguard, Kelly! She’s nineteen for Christ’s sake!”
I freeze. The smile vanishes.
“Call me what you want, that is not it. And I don’t know how you could think that I’d ever touch her… no.”
I want to cry. My heart feels like it’s being torn apart inside.
“No, fuck off and stop fucking calling me, Kelly. I’m serious. This has nothing to do with you.”
He angrily punches the end call button and turns. Immediately, I can see he knows I’ve heard it all.
“Bellamy…” he growls.
“Gee,” I hiss. “How could it possibly be me?! How could you ever touch me?! Huh, Vincent?!”
His jaw grinds. “Bellamy, listen to me.”
“No, please. I don’t want you to be disgusted by me,” I snap.
“You know that’s not—”
“I don’t know anything, Vincent!” I scream. I turn and run back inside. He follows me into the kitchen. So I whirl on him furiously. “Stop it! Don’t you dare follow me—”
“I will always follow you!” he booms, startling me. His hand grabs my wrist, yanking me around. I fight him, kicking and pushing before he pulls me close.
“Get off of me!”
“Listen to me!”
“I don’t have to listen to shit!” I scream.
“Yeah, you do.”
I glare up at him. “Who’s Kelly, Vincent?”
He grits his teeth. “A woman.”
“Oh really, captain obvious?”
“I’m thirty years old, Bellamy,” he growls
“And?!”
“And I’ve…” he frowns. “Nothing.”
“No, what?” I snap.
“I’m thirty!” he hisses again.
“Just say it, Vincent!”
“Fine! I’ve dated women, Bellamy! I’m a picky guy, but I haven’t lived in a monastery my whole life!”
I look away. My eyes brim with tears. But I know he’s right. The age between us is huge. And with the age comes life experiences. I don’t like it, and in fact I hate it. But I have to acknowledge that at some point in his adult life, Vincent knew other women. It is what it is, even if it makes my blood boil.
Last night was my first time. It obviously wasn’t his. It’s a hard truth I’ve been trying not to dwell on. But it’s there, like a little match end burning the tip of my finger.
“Look at me, Bellamy,” Vincent says softly. I shake my head. “Please.”
I frown and finally turn back to him. “Who’s Kelly?”
“We dated.”
I wrinkle my nose and scowl.
“A while ago,” he says quietly. “Not for a long time, and it was very off and on. And it was over a year ago.” He sighs. “Kelly’s been having trouble letting it go, though. “
“She knows about me?” I whisper, aghast.
He hesitates.
“Vincent?”
“Not this,” he growls. A small smile curls his lips when he says “this” and wags a finger between us. “But she knows about you as my charge. From before. We saw each other a bit when…”
“When I was still living here, and you were my bodyguard.”
He nods. “She was always a little jealous of the time I spent with you, I think.”
I frown. “Eww?”
He chuckles. “Yeah, well, she’s insane.” He sighs and gives me a hard, curious look. “You need to understand, Bellamy. Before, I mean, when I was your bodyguard, I never…” He frowns, looking for the words. But I understand what he’s trying to say.
“I know,” I whisper.
“I’m not…” he frowns again. “I wasn’t ever hiding feelings or anything like that. You were like my kid sister. Like a niece.”
“I know, Vincent,” I smile softly.
“It’s important to me that you know that. That I wasn’t a predator or secretly creeping on you.”
I giggle. “I know that.”
He smiles. “This just feels…”
“Strange?” I whisper.
He shakes his head. “No. I was going to say perfect, actually.”
My heart swells, and my smile grows.
“But you can’t not think of the optics. Who we were, our ages… all of that.”
I nod. “How come Kelly… she asked about me? I mean just now when you said there was someone else?”
He nods. “Yes.”
“You denied it.”
“I know,” he growls.
“Vehemently.” My lips purse. Vincent looks into my eyes.
“Listen to me, Bellamy…”
“That sucked to hear,” I mutter.
He growls. “I know, baby. And I’m sorry. Bellamy, if it were up to me, I’d shout about you on national televisions. I’d write about you in the fucking sky.”
“Except to Kelly,” I say bitterly. I know the logic in what he’s saying. I’m just being petty and difficult.
“Kelly is a manipulative, mean, vindictive bitch,” he snarls. He pulls close to me and grins. “I’m not ashamed of you, Bellamy. Not in the fucking slightest.”
“But?”
He smiles. “But I’m eleven years older than you.
I shrug.
“I used to watch you when you were younger. I work for you father, for fuck’s sake.”
“Who’s a mob boss.”
He chuckles. “There’s that too.”
We look at each other intensely. And then, I know I can’t hold onto the negativity. My muscles loosen, and I slink into him. His arms wrap around me tight. Instantly, I feel like I’m a part of him again.
