Page 64 of Glitterland
I positioned myself and breached him carefully, gritting my teeth against an urge to simply press forward and sheath myself inside him. “You really shouldn’t mock people when they’re about to stick their cock up your arse.”
His breath hitched.
I stroked the underside of his thigh, inched a little further. His eyes had gone very wide. A few drops of sweat fell from my brow and mingled with the moisture that already glittered on his torso. I’d meant to torment him, just a little. Make him work for it. Beg me for it, perhaps. Or just moan in helpless abandon for me to take him. But then I glanced down and the sight of his body spread around mine utterly undid me. I gasped out his name, and a scattering of obscenities, and thrust myself into him, deep, then deeper, until our bodies met. A delirious rainbow of light unravelled behind my eyes, a herald of utter and heedless ecstasy.
I was afraid I might have hurt him with my lack of control, but Darian was stretched out beneath me, his head thrown back again to show the straining muscles of his neck, and the fingers of one hand were clinging to the intricate iron curlicues of my bedstead. Exquisite.
It was my last coherent thought.
All that was left was the tight heat of his body, his name to be whispered like a prayer, the taste of his mouth, the heavy scents of skin and sex and both of us together, the way his fingers tightened around the metal, his harsh gasps and broken cries, my hand on his cock, moving in the same rough rhythm as my thrusts. The impossible ouroboros of want and wanting, the twin pleasures of giving and taking, swirled together as richly as oils upon a canvas.
I forced my eyes open, fought my body’s response and my instinct for selfishness. It was enough. A fingerhold on the precipice of desire, to stop me tumbling headlong into my own private rapture. A hard thrust, a twist of my hand on his cock, and the incantation of his name was all it finally took, his body shuddering under mine, his pleasure spilling over my fingers and onto his belly. I followed him mere moments later, collapsing into his waiting arms as I came in an intense, wrenching rush. Endless moments of nothing but joy and glittering pieces of madness. And, through the broken mirrors of bliss-closed eyes, glimpses of happiness in refracted rainbows. I clung to Darian, shattered, thoughtless, mindless, pleasure-wracked, safe.
I came back to myself, to my shaking, panting, sweating, aching body, and found it bearable. Peeling myself off Darian, I dispensed with the condom, and went for a towel on unsteady legs. Afterwards we lay together, and I kissed the faint freckles that scattered his shoulders in defiance of his spray tan.
“You’re well good at that, babes,” he said sleepily. “Specially wif your mouth. Like…wow.”
I trailed my fingers over Gary. Take that, bitch.
“I’ll put it on my CV,” I murmured. “Excellent cocksucker.”
“But I should really check it for you prop’ly, babes. As a favour or whatever.”
“How noble you are.”
“I’m well noble, me. Aw, y’know what?”
“Oh dear, what?”
“We should get the wavey fings what the judges ’ave onStrictly.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Y’know, the wavey fings wif the scores on ’em. Sev-VEN.”
“I do not watchStrictly Come Dancing.”
“God, babes, you don’t watchMasterChef, you don’t watchStrictly, no wonder you’re bipolar depressed.”
“Thank you, Doctor.” I was silent a moment. “Wait a minute. Did you just say you would rate my blowjob as a seven? Get the fuck out of my bed.”
He laughed and didn’t move.
16
Later
I woke in a panic, plastered to Darian’s velvet-warm back, one arm draped across him, the other crooked awkwardly under the pillow, completely numb. I scrambled into a sitting position and pulled my knees up to my chest, trying to calm my body’s anxieties and my mind’s chaos. But it was no use. My heart raced. My thoughts whirled.
Darian slept on.
At least until I prodded him awake.
“Darian. Darian.”
He rolled over, tousled and lovely, blinking dazedly in the half-light. “What’s wrong, babes?”
I stared at him, for a moment utterly speechless at the magnitude of everything. “I’m going to make you so unhappy,” I blurted out.
