I whimper in response.
“Say it,” he begs.
“Yes,” I answer.
“You want me to eat you while I jack myself?” His words are dirty, filthy. And intoxicating.
“Yes,” I cry out louder, leaning forward onto his mouth, drowning out his cries, and sating myself on his greediness. God, the things Ty Marshall can do with his tongue. I’ve lost all control and I’m moving, writhing, and moaning, chasing my orgasm just as he’s chasing his. I don’t care if anyone is home, or what time it is, or how much work I still have left to do. All that matters right now is letting Ty give me pleasure. Just when I think I can’t take anymore, he sucks my clit, then thrusts his tongue inside me in quick succession, catapulting me over the edge. Words pour from my mouth as I ride out my orgasm on his lips, his tongue, his chin. I hear him shout my name, and I know he’s found his release too, as I feel the warmth of his orgasm hit the base of my spine.
He presses a sweet, gentle kiss on my mound and I scoot back, shimmying my way down his body.
“Careful, baby. I, uh...made a spectacular mess all over my chest and your back.”
I know why he’s warning me, but I just smile. “Looks like we should get cleaned up, huh? But, mmm...just hold me, one more minute?”
“I never want to let go,” he tells me. “But…”
“Oh my God, just cuddle me. I’m not going to end up on national TV because you impregnated me before we even had penetrative sex,” I say, a little exasperated. “Besides, Mel took me to the clinic last week. I’m all set. I got an IUD.” I’d been waiting for the right moment to tell him, though, technically, I didn’t get it for him. I got it for me. But also for me when I have sex with him. So yea...for us.
He wraps his arms tightly around me and I melt into his embrace. “Yeah?”
I nod, though my face is buried in his neck. “Yes. Just because my boyfriend won’t have sex with me, doesn’t mean--”
“Whoa. Hang on there.” His tone is gentle and his hand traces a lazy pattern up and down my back. And if this is the moment he chooses to tell me he’s not my boyfriend or he doesn’t do relationships, or some shit, I realize I’m in the perfect position to bite his neck, incapacitate him, and knee him in the balls. Because the man just came all over my back. If that’s not a commitment, I don’t know what is.
“I want to have sex with you. God...it’s all I fucking thinking about.” He pulls back. “Look at me, Phoebe.”
I do, and the sincerity I see in his eyes has me smiling genuinely. I will not need to knee this man in the balls, which is good, because I rather like them.
“There’s nothing I don’t want to do with you. And yea, I mean nothing. You name it, and I’m game. I just...I just want you to be sure.”
“I--” He stops my words with a finger to my lips.
“I know. You’re a grown-ass adult woman, who is fully capable of deciding what she wants. But baby, maybe I’m a bad bet.”
“Ok, that’s some nonsense I do not have the energy for tonight,” I say, rising from the bed. “Now, am I showering by myself or are you getting your lazy ass out of bed to wash my hair?”
“The latter,” he says, smiling. There are conversations we need to have, clearly, but not tonight. I’m still in an orgasm-induced haze and I don’t want to lose that feeling.
***
Ty
“I hate Anne Elliot. She’s horrible.” My beautiful girlfriend wounds me yet again.
We’re lying in bed, Phoebe’s body warm and soft against mine, despite the ire in her words. My eyes are heavy with sleep, since we definitely didn’t keep our shower PG. But I need to rally. There’s 19th century literature to be dissected.
“You know, Phee, I never took you for a judger. And yet...here we are.”
“She left him, Ty. He loved her, wanted to freaking marry her, and she listened to some old biddy’s advice? That’s some garbage.”
“It is, for sure, but…”
“But what?”
“Well...you hated Darcy, too, remember? But now you love him. I’m just saying. Give Anne Elliot a chance.”
She turns toward me. “How can you defend her?”
