Page 103 of Road Trip to Forever
Our eyes meet and we lunge at the same time, a flurry of limbs and hands and touching. Patrick tackles me just as I reach out for him, our bodies landing in a tangled heap on the mattress.
“Patrick.” I kiss him and run my hands down his chest. “I miss you so much when I’m gone. I play your voice memos a hundred times a day. I look at your pictures and wonder what you’re doing.”
“The next time you go somewhere,” he whispers in my ear, “I’m going with you.”
“I can spend more time at home so neither one of us is lonely again.”
“Compromise,” he says. “Look at us.”
“I want you,” I say, and it comes out like a plea.
He flips us, my legs on either side of his hips and his back flat on the bed. “Sit on my face.”
I choke on a sputtered breath, the mood shifting at the drop of a hat. Desperation and wildness replacing reflective and sweet. “What?”
“We’re going to try again just like I said, and this time, I want you to sit on my face.”
“You’ll get tired. I don’t want to keep you down there for an hour.”
“I don’t give a shit if it takes one hour or five. Sit on my face, Lola, and let me eat you out.”
“Okay.Okay.”
I can’t deny the man who literally inked his skin because of me. The man I adore more than anything in the world. Who’s willing to try and try andtry, determined to make me feel good. I climb up his body, my thighs bracketing his head. I look down and see a wicked glint to his smile. His dimples pop and he licks his lips, his fingers digging into my thighs.
It looks like he’s about to feast.
God, he’s hot. I love so many parts of him, all the kindness and gentleness of his heart and mind, but I can’t deny how damn attractive he is, especially likethis.
“I know you don’t like to squat, honey. Fucking sit, and let me take care of you how you deserve. Let me show you how much those tattoos mean to me. How muchyoumean to me.” His words put me in a trance and I lower myself onto his face as he pushes my legs farther apart. “There you go. That’s my girl,” he says. And then he licks me without abandon.
It’s messy. Loud and unhinged. I grind into his mouth. He uses his tongue, his thumb, his free hand. As he squeezes the curve of my ass, I decide I need to get my own tattoo of his fingerprints on my skin in the places I’m learning he likes the most. The sensations come in stronger this time, starting at my toes and working their way up to where we’re joined.
Patrick groans and his grip tightens. I hope he leaves a bruise so I never have to forget how wonderful and pleasant this feels. My skin burns and I drop my head back, my hands tugging at his hair.
“You’re so hot, Lola,” he mumbles, and I know he’s enjoying this too.
“Close,” I say. “Patrick.”
His name is both a prayer and an ask. Before I can blink, I’m on my back. Lifted off of him in a motion so quick I don’t even register it happening. He shoves my thighs apart and pushes two fingers inside of me. “I want to see you when you come, Lola. Open your pretty eyes.”
I do as he says, tiptoeing on the ledge and inching toward the fall I crave. We stare at each other, gazes locked, and nothing else in the world matters.
“Don’t stop,” I whisper. “Please.”
“I’m never going to stop,” he answers, a myriad of meanings behind the words as he licks me again, the most incredible feeling following the path of his tongue.
It’s a tsunami, a volcanic eruption I feel everywhere. My hands, my back, my chest. I’ve ascended to the stars, out of the room and high above, to the most magical place I never want to come down from. Wave after wave of pleasure knocks into me, unrelenting, and I ride it to the shore.
I’m shaking on the sheets as the orgasm starts to subside. My limbs are heavy, weights attached to my arms and legs. It’s nearly impossible to open my eyes until the euphoria abates, relinquishing its grip on me as I settle into mindlessness.
There’s a hand on my face brushing the hair out of my eyes. Rubbing my shoulders. I hear whispered words soothing me, and I blink, the room around me coming into focus. Four walls, a ceiling fan, dim lighting andPatrick. The one responsible for my elation.
“There she is,” he says, kneeling above me.
I reach for him and he kisses my palm. “Hi.”
“Doing okay?”
