by Penny Wylder
So instead of studying, which I’ll do this weekend, I’m getting ready. I went off campus and bought my first real set of lingerie. Black and strappy and sexy. And I’m doing my make-up. Dark eyes and big mascara.
When that’s done, I do actually study for a while, because I have almost an hour until I’m going across the hall and I need to keep myself distracted. I swear that my body has developed a muscle memory for pleasure. Just thinking about him I’m warm, my pussy already damp and ready for what’s going to happen.
Or at least what I hope is going to happen. Mal has a way of taking my expectations and twisting them around. Always in a good way.
I’m barely studying. Just watching the clock. I make it until eleven forty-five before I can’t handle it anymore. I put on my robe and cross the hall, knocking. Malcolm opens it, shirtless in only sweatpants, hair wet from a shower.
Immediately he notes my make-up and the bits of lingerie peeking out from my robe. He smirks. “You were trying to wait till midnight.”
“I was.”
“Impatient?”
My heart is pounding in my chest. “For the love of god, let me in.”
He opens the door further, and I press past him. The door shuts behind me and he flicks the lock, the party noise muffling as it closes.
“You made it this far,” he says, leaning in and brushing his lips across my cheek. “You can make it another fifteen minutes.”
“I’m not so sure that I can.”
He pulls my robe off and tosses it aside, circling me slowly and drinking me in. “You’re fucking beautiful.”
My cheeks are on fire, and I can’t meet his eyes. Mal’s hand cups my cheek, and he tilts my face up to his. His lips meet mine in the most chaste kiss that we’ve ever shared.
“You can,” he says. “I’ll make sure of it.”
“How?”
He points to a place beside the bed. “Kneel there.”
My eyes go wide. “You’re serious?”
“When have I ever joked about this?” He raises one eyebrow, meaning this thing between us.
I press my lips together. “Never.”
“Exactly.”
Sinking to my knees on the carpet, I wait. And even though Malcolm isn’t touching me I feel like I’ve never been more aware of him. Especially in this room, where we’ve spent so much time learning each other and forging this connection. He sits at his desk behind me, and I can feel him like he has his hands on my skin.
Time seems to stretch, and I swear that it’s longer than fifteen minutes. But also maybe not. Waiting makes things longer. Every part of me is at attention. My nipples are hard beneath the fabric and I can feel my own heat and wetness on my thighs.
I don’t know what the hell he’s doing behind me. Homework, maybe, since I hear him typing on my laptop. Everything slips away into this state of awareness that is only him. And only me. Perfection.
Finally, after what feels like forever, I hear the tiny click that is his laptop shutting. The chair creaks as he shifts. Fingers tangle in my hair and he pulls me up higher on my knees at the same time lips meet my neck. A long, slow lick up under my jaw until his lips are at my ear. “It’s after midnight.”
“Thank fuck,” I breathe.
“Do you think you should earn your orgasm or do you think you should get it for free for being good?”
Goosebumps run across my skin and I arch back up into his grip. “I don’t think that’s my choice.”
He laughs softly. “That’s a good answer.” Lifting me to my feet, he spins me around to face him and tugs a strap off my shoulder. “I like this.”
“It’s new.”
“It’s a pity that it has to come off, but I expect to see it again.”
I grin. “Got it.”
The way he strips me of my underwear is quick and efficient, so I’m the way he likes me best: completely naked. “On the bed.”
He helps me arrange myself so I’m lying spread out, head hanging off the edge. An upside-down kiss to my lips has me straining upward toward him. “You’ve been so good practicing,” he says. “Do you think you can do it?”
He means take all of his cock. I have been practicing, and we’ve gotten close. It’s not the accomplishment that I want; it’s the sounds Malcolm makes when I suck him down that I crave, and I know when he finally makes it all the way in he’s going to give me even more of that.
“I don’t know.”
“We’re going to try,” he says. There’s no room for argument, and that’s fine. I know that whatever he chooses is going to end well for me. I’ve been waiting for a week, and just knowing he’s going to both use me and pleasure me is enough. “Okay.”
Malcolm drops his pants, and the head of his cock is at my lips. I’ve grown to love the salty taste of him on my tongue. We’ve never used this position, and I like it. He slides in and in and in, and it’s easier this way. When his cock hits my throat the transition is seamless. Deeper in keeps pushing until we’re almost at my limit. My lips are stretched around the girth of him, and I’m so full that I can feel him stiff all the way down. But I’m so close. Another inch, and my lips will circle the base of his cock. I want that last inch desperately.
Fingers weave with mine on the bed as Malcolm leans into the motion. His weight pins my hands in place and his lips brush low on my stomach as he eases further. He’s kissing closer to where I want him. My legs practically fall apart, begging for him to lick me.
His cock presses deeper, and I fight the need to breathe. So close. So close. So close. A gentle kiss right next my clit has me moaning. And still he doesn’t give it to me.
Another second, and he’s pulling back to let me breathe. I haul in a breath, licking my lips before he fits himself to my lips again. “Take all of me, Juno, and I’ll give you what you’re looking for.”
I groan around his cock, and another burst of wetness dampens my pussy. I love it and I hate it. He sips all the way down to where he was, and deeper. Mouth and breath tease my clit, and I can’t help arching my hips toward him seeking that contact, but he doesn’t give it to me. “Just a little more.”
Closing my eyes, I relax my entire body. My mouth. My throat. And it happens. He slips in that extra inch, and my lips meet the skin of his toned stomach. His cock is entirely in my throat, and he groans. “Oh fuck, Juno.”
I’m soaking wet, aroused by the fact that he’s in me and that I did it. Oh my god. He rocks his hips deeper as his mouth crashes down on my clit. He devours me with lips and teeth and tongue while fucking my throat gently.
But I don’t want gentle. I want frenzy and fire and passion. And when he lets me breathe I tell him that. “You’re going too easy.”
Malcolm laughs. “Don’t want to push too far.”
If he weren’t holding me in place I would have grabbed him and pulled him too me.
“It’s been a week. Please, I’m begging you, fuck me.”
He smirks. “Okay.”
He’s in my mouth again in a second, down to the hilt. Now that I’ve done it, feels like he was meant to be there. He traces himself down the line of my throat, before he bends over and takes me with his mouth.
His hips move in time with his tongue, and I surrender to the feeling of this. Pleasure is ready and waiting in the wings, rising easily and becoming overwhelming immediately.
I come under his tongue, climax shattering through me with the force of a breaking dam. I yell around his cock, the sound completely muffled by the way he’s fucking me. I’m shaking and writhing under his mouth. I can’t take more, and I can at the same time.
Malcolm pulls out and joins me on the bed, hesitating only seconds for the condom before he pulls me on top of him. I sink down onto his cock, taking him to the hilt in an entirely different way. Now that I’ve come once, everything is unleashed, the pent-up energy exploding. Three thrusts upward into me and I’m coming again, pussy spasming around him, milking him, asking for more with words that I can’t spea
k. I’m shouting my climax into the air, and I don’t care how loud I am—I won’t be heard.
Malcolm’s hands land on my hips, pulling me down harder and faster, our bodies slapping together loudly. I can see him beneath me, panting and just as aroused as I am. Muscles tensing and smoothing with every movement. He’s beautiful.
And at the same time if feels like I am blind and viewing the world through a glowing haze of ecstasy and pleasure. I’ve never been high, but I imagine that this is how it would feel. I lose myself in the waves of delicious fire that keep rolling, until I can no longer hold myself up, and I collapse onto Malcolm’s chest until he comes too, groaning in my ear, holding me tightly against him.
I’m still dazed enough that I don’t move. Not even when he leaves to get rid of the condom, and not even when he comes back and lays with me, pulling the blanket over the two of us.
He tips my chin up to his, kissing me softly. “I think it’s safe to say that a week is too long.”
“That was great,” I say. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He chuckles, tucking me in against him. I like the vibrations that his voice makes under my ear. “You’re nearly catatonic, Juno. I think you might need maintenance orgasms to keep you sane.”
“If you think that being catatonic from pleasure is a bad thing,” I say, my words slurring slightly, “I have news for you.”
He laughs and tucks us in to the blankets more firmly. “Sleep, Juno.”
I’m already halfway there, but I can’t find my voice to ask why. We don’t sleep in each other’s beds. We never have. It was kind of an unwritten rule and boundary that we hadn’t crossed. Until now.
But I don’t think that I could move if I tried, and I feel Malcolm stroking his hand down the side of my ribs, soothing me further down into sleep.
16
Malcolm
When I wake with Juno sprawled across my chest, I feel a sense of satisfaction that I can’t fully explain. The way she fits against me is perfect—like she was made to fill in my hollow places and I was made to fill in her curves.
I nearly lost myself last night, and when she was cuddling up to me, nearly falling asleep, I almost told her that I loved her. I didn’t know where the thought came from, I just knew that it nearly tumbled out of my mouth. I was so startled that even though Juno fell asleep within seconds, I lay awake for a long time, just staring at the ceiling and holding her.
It seems impossible. I’ve had girlfriends, and more than enough one-night stands. But I’ve never been in love. Not like this. I’ve never said the words ‘I love you’ to anyone but my family. And here I am, ready to tell them to Juno a thousand times over. I can’t even begin to explain it.
The more I learn about her, the more I want her in my life forever. I like that she’s passionate about what she wants. I love that she’s nerdy and loves data and spreadsheets. I love that she takes school seriously and always makes it a priority to study. I love her dirty mind that took time to wear sexy black lingerie for me even though she knew it would just come off. I love that she knelt when I told her to, accepting that decision in stride.
And I love that she trusts me with her whole self. She doesn’t hold back with me. Especially in moments like this. She shines. I can see into her soul, and I love the view.
She’s still completely asleep, and I don’t want to move her. But glancing at the clock, I notice it’s almost time for this week’s phone call with John. I’ll go get us coffee while I’m on the phone, and maybe I can convince Juno to abandon her studies for the day and just spend it in bed with me.
A long, slow day of movies and coffee and kisses would have sounded like girly romantic comedy movie shit a month ago. And now I love the idea of spending hours beside her. Even better if she stays naked and I can run my hands over that perfect skin. Maybe make a meal or two out of her.
Slowly, I roll her onto her side, making sure that she’s still covered with the blanket before I slip out of the bed. If I’m lucky, she’ll stay sleeping and won’t even know that I’m gone. I was right, a week was too long. She might like nearly passing out from overdue orgasms, but that’s not a healthy way to bring it out. And I like having her ask me. If we do this again, I’ll keep it shorter, and the extensions reasonable.
Now I know.
And I won’t let her argue with me either. Whether she agrees or not, I do think that there can be too much of a good thing. On the way across campus, I dial John, but he doesn’t answer. It might be too early for him. After all, it is Saturday.
At the campus coffee shop, I get a coffee for myself and a peppermint tea for Juno. She always prefers tea to coffee, and I’m already craving that sleepy, luxurious smile when she wakes up to a cup of tea.
I’m heading back toward the house when I hear a voice behind me. “You’re Malcolm Levar, right?”
I turn to find a pretty blonde girl staring at me. She looks vaguely familiar, but I can’t place why. “I am. And you are?”
She smiles. “I’m Taylor Thomas. Melody’s sister.”
“Oh.” Perfect.
To say that I’m not Melody’s biggest fan is an understatement. When we were both freshmen, she snuck into Granite House and waited in my bedroom naked, trying to seduce me. Not because she wanted me, but because she wanted the power that she thought came from sleeping with me. The chancellor’s son who was going to be tapped as the leader of a popular house. She wanted to be the leader of a sorority, and she got what she wanted. But I didn’t let her use me to do it.
She’s never forgiven me for that. Over the years she’s sent things my way to trip me up, including Juno. I suppose that I should thank her for that one, since it worked out well. But she’s not my favorite person.
It’s hard to imagine that under that influence, her sister would be any different. No wonder she looks familiar.
“What can I do for you, Taylor?”
“Juno Dennard is your girlfriend, right?”
That’s the first time anyone has called her that, and to me it feels like so much more than the term can encompass. But I nod. “Yes, she is.”
“Oh okay. Just checking. Good luck.”
I frown. “You know her?”
She smiles. “Of course. We went to high school together. Been friends for years.”
In passing, Juno has mentioned Bailey, her friend who she was planning to room with before we collided. She’s never mentioned a Taylor.
“I think it’s nice of you to let her live in Granite House with her reputation, honestly. I know that she really appreciates it.”
Suspicion curls around my spine. “What are you talking about?”
Her eyes go wide with shock. “You mean she didn’t tell you? I guess that makes sense. She’s really embarrassed about the whole thing.” Taylor looks away, thinking. “But you should probably know, since you’re responsible for anything that she does while she’s living with you.”
Dread is sinking through me, and I take a deep breath. “Start talking, Taylor, and I swear that if this is one of Melody’s games—”
She scoffs. “I don’t play games. A couple of years ago at a party, Juno got a kid to drink waaaay to much on a dare. She loves a good dare, didn’t you know that? Well the kid almost died from alcohol poisoning. It was really tragic. But yeah, I wouldn’t want anyone in Granite House to be in the same position.”
It feels like my entire body has gone numb. I can barely keep a hold on the cups that I’ve got in my hands. Again, I have the flashback of the first time that I saw Juno in the hospital. She had flowers, and she was crying. She left them for John, said that she was sorry, and then she left.
I thought that she had been a good friend coming to support him. But she wasn’t. She was the reason he had been in the hospital in the first place. Holy fuck.
“Thank you for the information,” I tell Taylor, and walk away. I’m not interested in any more of that conversation. She may call after me, but I’m not listening. I�
�m too busy throwing both cups in the trash and pulling out my phone. I dial John again, and this time he picks up, voice sleepy.
“Sorry man, I overslept.”
“I need to ask you something,” I say, not waiting for the confirmation. “Do you remember Juno Dennard from high school.”
John sighs. “I think so. She was generally pretty quiet. Nerdy type. Nice though.”
“Was she at the party?” I don’t have to clarify which party I’m talking about. There’s only one party that’s the party for the two of us.
“You know I don’t remember most of that night, Mal.”
“Try,” I growl. “This is important.”
He sounds fully awake now. “What is going on?”
“Was Juno Dennard at that party.”
“I don’t know,” he says. “Maybe? Most of the school was at at least some point.” A pause. “I kind of remember her being there, yeah.”
“Thanks,” I say. “That’s all I needed to know.”
I hang up the phone, pain spiraling through my chest like a phantom hand has reached inside and ripped my heart out. And soon after that comes anger. How could she do this?
She had admitted that she had come to Granite House on a dare. So she obviously likes them, just like Taylor said. Did she know about John? Who I was to him? Did she come after me to make herself feel better?
I have the urge to hide and the urge to hit something all at once. What the hell am I going to do?
Every moment with Juno has felt honest and truthful, and now I know that every second of it has been a lie that I created. I convinced myself that I was in love with her. After a month? What a fucking idiot I am.
I start walking, I don’t know where. I can’t go back to that house, not while she’s there. In my bed.
Fucking hell, I haven’t even showered. She’s still all over me.
