Page 4 of Save Me
It’s not a command, but it’s not a suggestion either. It’s Thayer, and he’s worried. I want to laugh because what’s the point of worrying now?
“Can manage,” I slur, even though the room tilts a bit when I try to move, still clutching the bottle. I take another drink as if that’s going to help, but it only makes it worse. The room spins and I lurch, but Thayer is there to catch me, next to me, his arm steady around my waist. His touch is sure, grounding. I lean into him, more than I’d like to admit. We move together, slowly, towards the bedroom.
Thayer steadies me at the edge of my bed. I shove his hand away and take another drink, finishing off what I think was half a bottle in mere minutes. I throw it on the bed and then turn to him, fumbling with my clothes as I strip off. He doesn’t help; he just watches as I throw my underwear on the pile of discarded clothes.
To my dismay, he doesn’t jump on me. He ignores my naked body and eases me down onto the mattress, his hands careful, like he’s handling something precious. It’s ridiculous how that small act guts me.
“Thanks,” I mutter, my voice more gravel than grace. The world sways less here, anchored by the weight of my body on the bed.
I grab his hand tightly. “Stay.” I’m not sure if it’s the booze talking or the emptiness that gnaws at me, insatiable and dark, but I’m desperate for him. I want his cock inside me, and I want to ride him until I can’t anymore.
He hesitates, then nods, moving to sit on the corner of the bed, maintaining a respectful distance. But it’s not enough, not tonight. “Closer.”
Thayer’s gaze locks onto mine, questions swirling in the depths. He knows better than to think this is just about needing warmth. But he scoots closer anyway, his presence a steady pulse in the room.
“Thayer...” My voice is laced with a raw plea for him. My hand slides up his arm, tracing the muscle beneath his shirt, seeking something. Relief? Escape? Both?
“Vogue, you’re drunk.” He says it plain, no judgement, just facts. But his voice has an edge, like he’s fighting something inside him.
“I know that, genius.” I laugh, but it’s brittle. “I just want to forget. Can you help me forget?”
He exhales a tortured sound that tells me his internal war is raging. He’s torn between what he wants and what he thinks is right. I see it in the way his jaw clenches, the way his eyes darken—a storm of want and worry.
Knowing I’m going to have to give him more incentive, I crawl into his lap, ignoring my spinning head. “Please,” I whisper against his mouth, a single word that carries the weight of my desperation, grinding down on his hard cock that is straining to get to me even though he isn’t moving yet. “I need you.”
I can tell it breaks something in him because when he kisses me, it’s with an intensity that matches mine. His hands slide down, gripping my hips tightly.
Sliding my hands under his tee, I break the kiss long enough to pull it off over his head before I devour his mouth again. He groans softly, his fingers tracing up my back before going into my hair to fist gently.
I wrap my arms around his neck, clinging to him as if he’s the lifeline keeping me from drowning in the sea of my thoughts. With every touch, I’m staking my claim, asserting control over the one thing I can in this moment: my desire for him.
“Vogue,” he murmurs, and there’s a tremble in the syllables. But it’s not a no—it’s him giving in.
“Thayer,” I breathe back, giving myself over to the sensation of his kiss.
Thayer’s hands roam over me, each touch igniting sparks where my skin aches for more. My fingers tangle in his hair, tugging him closer until there’s no space left, only the heat of our bodies pressed tight.
He trails kisses down my neck, marking a path that sets my blood on fire. It’s a plea, a demand, and everything in between.
I arch against him, and he responds instantly, a growl vibrating from his chest as his lips find mine again. It’s a kiss laced with promise and desperation, tasting of raw emotion and the sort of passion that could burn us both to ashes.
He lifts me off his lap, and I start to protest, feeling cold, but he shushes me and lays me down in the middle of the bed, looming over me as he pushes my legs wide open. His mouth finds my pussy, and I gasp as he flicks my clit with his tongue before sliding his fingers inside me.
“Fuck, yes,” I moan, tangling my fingers into his hair to hold him close.
I can feel the orgasm already building as he bites gently on my clit and tugs it, thrusting his fingers deeper.
“Ah!” I cry out as the wave crashes quickly, leaving a trail of fire in its wake that needs stoking again.
“Vogue,” he groans as I flood his mouth with cum, lapping at me like a man possessed.
“Fuck me!” I demand, wiggling closer to him. “Fuck me, Thayer, I need your cock inside me.”
“Jesus,” he pants and rises, undoing his pants quickly and removing them.
The room is swaying from left to right, so I close my eyes as he settles over me.
But then nothing happens.
