Page 146 of Collide
Because the truth is, I’m not exactly sure what I’m doing. I know the general concept, thoughts of late-night research making me blush, but I’ve never actually?—
Alex leans forward slightly, brushing my hair back.
“You’ve never done this before?” he murmurs, his voice softer now, searching my eyes.
I shake my head.
He exhales slowly, his thumb dragging over my bottom lip, eyes locked on mine. “So innocent,” he teases.
“Teach me how to please you,” I whisper, breathless.
His eyes darken further, something primal flashing through them. “Unbutton my pants,” he instructs, voice rough.
I obey, my fingers working to open the button, then the zipper, revealing the black fabric of his briefs beneath.
“Take them off,” he says, watching me like a predator fixed on his prey.
My lips part, hands trembling slightly as I slide both his pants and underwear down, he lifts his hips as I pull them off completely.
Oh.
I freeze.
I knew what to expect, but last time I touched him, it had been in the dark. Seeing it in real life, in the light—hard, thick, veiny, standing against his body—is…
Intimidating.
Alex lets out a low laugh, clearly amused. “That’s cute,” he murmurs, brushing my hair back so he can see my face. “You like what you see?”
I blink. Still staring. Too stunned to pretend otherwise.
“Yeah,” I say, too fast. “Bigger than I expected.”
His grin spreads, cocky and slow. “Oh, yeah?”
I roll my eyes, heat rushing to my cheeks. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“Well, yourotherhead.”
My pulse still races, but curiosity wins. I reach out, slowly, wrapping my fingers around him.
He twitches in my hand, and the sound he makes—half-groan, half-growl—sends a fresh rush through me.
“Now stroke it,” he instructs, voice deeper, rougher. “Like this.”
His hand covers mine, just like last time, guiding my movements—slow, firm strokes up and down his length.
I follow his lead, watching his face as his jaw tenses, his chest rising and falling with every exhale.
“That’s it,” he murmurs, his fingers sinking into my hair.
I lean forward, my breath ghosting over him.
“Lick the tip, like a popsicle,” he instructs.
I follow his instructions, running my tongue over the soft, sensitive skin, tasting the saltiness of him.
