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27
OLIVER
My lips were stiff. Unyielding. Not ready to give in to the taste of heaven. Because once I did, how would I ever give it up? Mya’s kisses used to wreck me in the best possible way. Nothing had ever been able to match how skydiving made me feel until her. Until Mya and I kissed, and the feeling being with her gave me became incomparable to anything in my past.
Eyes squeezed closed, I tried to resist the pull of temptation to kiss her back. To not experience what I’d been missing for so long. No way could I go into withdrawal again.
“I’m okay,” she murmured against my lips, clearly worried I wasn’t relenting on her behalf.
I mean, there was that. Of course. But how could I tell her the truth without also telling her I was still so very much in love with her. That it’d destroy the last piece of sanity I had left in me to lose her again. And I would. How could I not?
For a second, after I’d unburdened the weight of my past by the lake, I’d thought maybe we could have a second chance. But then The Collective came for us, and I just . . .
“Please,” she begged, and I almost swallowed the word as it vibrated into my partially open mouth.
With her ass firmly settled on my dick, my cock gave zero fucks about my pain or my past. I was stiff and ready to go. Biting down on my back teeth, I fought the urge to surrender to the primal need to kiss her back, to ravish her. To come inside her if she asked, her consent meaning everything to me. I didn’t need a lesson from what happened to my mother to know and understand that.
My hands remained tethered to my sides as my lips defied every compulsion to give in. Resist. Don’t do this. It’ll hurt us both too much after if we do.
When she shimmied on my lap, rotating her hips while her breasts remained pinned to my chest, urging my lips to open, I lost it.
Like in the past, when her tongue twined with mine and she moaned into my mouth, my eyes went to the back of my head, like I’d been shot up with the best drugs money could buy.
Eu-fucking-phoria. That was this moment. I was motherfucking high as we kissed. Free-falling-in-the-sky high.
“Mya.” Her name came out in the form of surrender. The will to live, and a life worth living, shot through me, propelling me forward.
I untied her braid. Threaded my fingers through her thick locks. Tipped her head back and deepened the kiss. Trailed my lips along her jawline and down the side of her throat while gently tugging her hair.
My chest ached, not from pain, but from the chains disintegrating from around my heart, allowing me to feel something else, something other than guilt and regret.
I was free in that kiss. Free to not hate myself, or the world that produced such travesty.
Her hands slid up and down my chest, her touch gentle on my bad shoulder. She continued grinding against my cock, and I did my best to prevent accidentally slipping inside her as we continued to make love with our mouths.
Four months of being unable to so much as get hard, let alone jerk off, and I was on the verge of coming without even being inside her.
“I’ve missed you so much,” she cried.
Same. Fucking same.
“Oh, God.” Clutching the nape of my neck, she rocked her clit up and down against my pelvic bone, creating friction over her sensitive spot as I kissed the column of her throat, holding the sides of her arms. “I’m going to come.” She moved faster, and a breathy moan followed as she dipped her chin to peer at me. Her jaw was slack and eyes glossy as she fell to pieces on top of me.
When she shifted back and secured a grip of my cock and began stroking, my first instinct was to stop her. She didn’t need to do this. Not that I could get out the words, not after watching her come.
Wrapping a hand around the back of her neck, I leaned in and kissed her as she finished me off in under sixty seconds. After four months of being away from the love of my life, who’d jerked me off after orgasming on my lap, my body had been ready to fucking go. Over and over again so it would seem.
With both of us breathing hard as we came down from the high, I lowered my forehead to hers, seized both her cheeks between my palms, and closed my eyes. “Are you okay?” I croaked out, worried about her, that she’d regret what happened.
“I’m more than okay,” she whispered, and I opened my eyes and lifted my head to look at her. To ensure she was telling me the truth. “Hurting more?”
Just my heart since I can’t keep you.
We’d quietly cleaned up and dressed in the clothes Vanessa had provided. But knowing Mya had no panties on beneath the sweatpants was going to fuck with my head all night. I didn’t need any other fuckery there. My thoughts were crowded enough.
Now that this woman had made me come, I’d be fantasizing about tugging those pants down to taste her. Not the best thoughts to have when introducing her to my father’s friends.
Mya was sitting on the bed, combing her fingers through her hair. She’d washed it in the shower after our bath, and it was hanging wet over the Spelman College sweatshirt, which was Vanessa’s alma mater. At least it was thick enough to conceal her nipples since she was also braless. Vanessa hadn’t provided undergarments for either of us, and I supposed it’d be weirder to wear someone else’s underwear than go without any.
