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“I’m telling you the only person to even look at my dick since January is me.”
“Why?”
My brow arches, my chin dipping down to gesture toward our current predicament. “You really want to have this conversation now?”
She continues to stare at me, her eyes devoid of any form of humor as she settles back onto her haunches. Her fingers loosen their hold, slipping free of me entirely before resting her palm on my thigh.
Guess now’s as good a time as any. Planting my hands into the cushions on either side of me, I’m able to maneuver myself into a more suitable sitting position for our talk, though my dick still awkwardly stands at attention between us. There’s no way to safely tuck nine inches of fully erect granite away, so until he calms the fuck down, he’s gonna have to remain on display.
“It’s pretty simple, demon. Nothing’s ever topped our sex life. I got tired of the continuous disappointment that accompanied any effort to try.”
“That makes no sense,” she argues. “You and I have been fucking around for years. Never seemed to slow your game down before.”
“There was never any game to slow.”
Daph eyes me with rapt attention as a thousand questions pass across her face, each one a silent plea to strip away another mask I’ve spent a lifetime hiding behind. And for possibly the first time in my entire existence, I surrender it to her willingly.
“October 17th,” I begin. “It was the night of your Senior Bonfire, but I didn’t get back from the city until after midnight, so it was technically the 18th. It was the first night you and I ever spent together.”
“I remember.”
“Daphne.” I scrub a hand over my stubbled face, fighting the urge to crawl out of my skin at the realization of what I’m about to say. “Last July was the first time in almost four years that I’ve had sex with anyone other than you.”
She tenses, her fingers digging into the muscle of my thighs. “How is that possible?”
“How is it not?” I challenge. “With the exception of the last year, you and I were consistently fucking on the regular. Even after you got with the douche, we never made it more than a couple of months without circling back to each other. Then the jackass proposed…”
My mind drifts back to the night she showed up at my house, my eyes instantly drawn to the monstrosity weighing down her finger.
“Tell me to say no,” she whispered, tears spilling from her eyes.
I forced my face to remain neutral as the need to reach for her grew to such intensity, I turned to walk back inside just to escape it. “Do what you gotta do, demon.”
“If you do this.” She ran to catch up with me, positioning herself between me and the door. “If you walk away from this—us—we’re done.”
I stared down at her, my cold expression appearing unmoved by her small sobs as she begged me to fight for us. Instead, I simply said, “Congratulations, Daph. Or should I say, Mrs. Devoreaux.”
I didn’t look back as she ran to her car. Didn’t so much as chance a glance until the whir of her engine faded in the distance. She barely made it round the bend before I was puking in my bushes.
“After you got engaged, I dedicated a solid four months trying to actively fuck you out of my system. The two after that? I dicked around when the need struck. You know what I figured out?” My eyes lift, suddenly refusing to shy away from her fully engrossed stare. “Any woman I meet isn’t going to hold a candle to you, and it seems cruel to keep setting them up for failure.”
The room falls silent between us, save for the whispered crackling of the candles she has lit on the end table off to the side. It stretches on, marked only by our measured breaths, with mine growing more erratic as my anxiety begins to swell.
I wish I could decipher what she’s thinking. Anything to provide me some form of guidance on how to proceed, other than sitting here quite literally with my dick in my hand waiting to be rejected. The walls begin to wobble, attempting to converge upon me, making it difficult to breathe. My mind counters, beating back any emotion that threatens to paint me as vulnerable, closing me off in the process.
“So, there it is, Daph,” I state coldly, shifting toward the edge of the cushion to stand. “The truth. Do with it what you will.”
Daphne’s hand shoots forward, planting against my chest where it momentarily lingers before her other comes to land beside it, pushing me back into my reclined position.
“What are you doing?” Her hands shift downward, my eyes tracking their descent as every inch they cover works to return my dick to full mast.
Daph lowers her head, never once breaking our gaze when she takes me in her hand. “Let’s skip to the good part, Nick. One thing you can feel.”
She guides the head of my dick to her lips, her tongue sneaking out to lick at the small slit. The sensation has my cock jumping in response, a bead of precum forming at the tip. Daph smiles, stroking upward as she milks another drop from me before suctioning her mouth around the tip.
“Fuuuck,” I hiss as her tongue swirls around my crown. Daphne’s mouth is on my cock. She’s sucking my dick. Jesus fucking Christ, I never thought I’d ever get to experience this ever again. Part of me wondered if I’d exaggerated the memories, if maybe I’d built all this up in my mind where my fantasies surpassed reality.
Nope. If anything, the memories of what we had paled in comparison—an obvious defense mechanism to keep me sane while forced to live without this. She dips low, swallowing me as the muscles at the back of her throat constrict around the head of my dick, and I see fucking stars. They explode behind my eyelids, destroying any delusional ideals I’d constructed in my mind that we could somehow be friends.
