Page 43 of When the Stars Fall
“Such a dirty mouth, Rebel.”
I ran both hands over the tops of his thighs, inching closer and closer. There was no backing down now. I wouldn’t and I could tell he knew that.
I had no idea how to do this. No idea how to give a blow job or seduce a guy or what to do to make him feel good. But I wanted to do this. Ineededto do this.
“Take off your shirt,” I said.
His eyes still on me, he did as I asked and pulled his shirt over his head then tossed it aside waiting to see what my next move would be. I wanted to touch his bronzed skin, run my hands over every inch of his bare chest and his abs and that V that dipped into the waistband of his jeans. Like it was leading to the promised land.
But instead of doing that, I dipped two fingers inside the waistband of his jeans and dragged them ever so slowly across his abdomen. He sucked in a breath when I stopped at the top button of his jeans. Because, of course, he couldn’t wear jeans with a zipper. That would be too easy.
“Unbutton your jeans.”
He shook his head, indicating that he refused to do it then adjusted himself in his jeans and smirked when my eyes lowered to his hand. I bit my bottom lip. He took my hand in his and guided it down so I could feel how hard he was. Knowing that he wanted me gave me confidence and spurred me on. My hands were trembling and I didn’t know if it was from nerves or excitement, maybe both, but I was all thumbs. And I was getting so turned on, it was ridiculous. My nipples had hardened into peaks and I squeezed my thighs together.
“Jesus Christ, Rebel.”
My fingers fumbled with the buttons until he lost patience with my clumsy efforts and pushed my hand aside so he could do it himself. Then he pushed down the waistband of his boxer briefs and I swallowed hard because this thing right in front of my face was a lot bigger than when I’d seen him coming out of the shower.
I was staring. I lifted my eyes to his expecting to see amusement in them, but his blue eyes had darkened and there was no hint of amusement there.
“If you’re not going to do it, I’ll do it myself,” he said, his voice strained.
I squeezed my eyes shut. “I want to do it.”
“I’m dying here so anytime you’re ready...”
All my bravado flew right out the window. I totally sucked at the art of seduction. “I don’t know what to do. What if I do it wrong?” I winced. I was making myself so vulnerable, setting myself up for ridicule.
He chuckled under his breath. “Trust me. Anything you do will feel good right now. Just... wrap your hand around it.”
I nodded. He hissed when I wrapped my hand around him. He was rock hard in my hand, the skin velvet soft and I was practically salivating. This was crazy. He moved my hand lower, wrapped his around mine and squeezed. Then his hand slid around the back of my head and he guided it down until my mouth was only inches from his tip.
My tongue darted out and I experimented, tentative at first, like this was a new flavor of ice cream and I wanted to test it before committing to an entire bowl. I licked the tip and he muttered a curse. Feeling bolder, I shoved his hand away and took control, licking and sucking, taking my cues from his responses. His hand fisted my hair and the guttural sounds coming from the back of his throat had me so turned on that I was rubbing my thighs together while I sucked him.
Thanks to the school gossip mill, I knew this wasn’t his first, and I wanted this to be the best blow job he’d ever had. But what I hadn’t expected was that I would love doing this for him.
“Lila. Fuck,” he said, his voice strained. “I’m going to come. You don’t want—”
It was a warning but I paid it no attention. I did want it. All of it. All of him.
I was all in and even as he tried to pull away, I kept my hand and my lips wrapped around him.
“Fuck, Rebel.”
I lifted my eyes to watch him. I loved this. I loved watching him fall apart for me. With his lips parted and his eyes squeezed shut, he was so goddamn beautiful that I wish I had a photo to preserve this moment.
Warm, salty liquid spurted down my throat and I drank it all, swallowing every last drop.
When I released him, I couldn’t help it. I pulled a face that made him laugh. “It’s so salty,” I said. That made him laugh harder, although it was silent laughter because we were in his bedroom doing something we shouldn’t be doing.
“Happy birthday to me.” He stripped down to his boxer briefs, turned off the desk light and climbed into bed then turned his back to me. “Close the door on your way out.”
My stomach dropped but I gritted my teeth and balled my fists, forcing back the tears that stung my eyes.
If it weren’t for the fact that his parents were down the hall, I would have slammed the door on my way out. But I didn’t even get that satisfaction.
I brushed my teeth three times. Rinsed and spit. Rinsed and spit. Trying to rid my mouth of the taste of Jude. But it didn’t work.
