Reclaiming the Sand
Page 56
Flynn nodded and I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck and pulled him toward me. His eyes were already fluttering closed and I kissed the tip of his nose before melding my mouth to his. He opened up his lips instantly. He had become quite adept at using his tongue. He was also learning to become more vocal.
When my tongue swept into his mouth he groaned and my belly tightened in response. A deep, glowing warmth spread throughout my body. I ran my fingers through his hair and he seemed to enjoy that. He groaned again, the press of his lips becoming more frantic.
I tried not to wince as he bit down on my lower lip a little harder than I would have liked. He was still trying to figure out what I liked and what he liked. “Not so hard, baby,” I whispered into his mouth, making sure to tell him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered back, running his tongue along the skin he had just bitten. I gave him my own moan to encourage him.
I almost pulled away when he suddenly put both of his hands on my br**sts. I hadn’t been expecting that.
He didn’t move his hands. He didn’t rub or knead. He just held his palms over my ni**les, his fingers spanning the expanse of my boobs. Should I show him what to do? Would he freak out and pull away?
We were still kissing but I was fixated on his hands that sat, unmoving on my chest. Finally I pulled back and looked down pointedly at his hands. “Uh, what’s going on here?” I asked.
Flynn followed the direction of my stare and quickly dropped his hands. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, folding his hands together in his lap.
Oh shit, he was starting to rub them. He was gnawing on his bottom lip, another sign that he was upset.
“Flynn, it’s okay. I was just surprised is all,” I tried to reassure him. Flynn had closed down. He wouldn’t answer me. He had gone inside his head. Things had been going so well and then I had opened my stupid f**king mouth and ruined everything.
“I wanted to touch you. I’ve seen it before on television. It looked nice. I thought I’d touch you like that,” he said, still rubbing his hands furiously.
I wanted to bang my head against the wall in frustration. I wasn’t known for my grace or diplomacy. I didn’t do the whole walking on eggshells thing. I stomped all over those mother f**king eggs, smearing yolk everywhere.
But I had to tread carefully with Flynn. This was testing me in ways that I hadn’t imagined.
I felt the familiar flicker of anger. The desire to lash out and abandon this thing that was starting to prove difficult.
“I wanted to make you feel as good as I do,” he said and just like that my irritation burst and faded away.
I reached over and took his hand and slipped it under my shirt so that it rested on my breast but over the thin fabric of my bra. Flynn hissed in a breath, his eyes widening. He was so innocent. It was disconcerting at times. But he was eager to learn and that was a total turn on.
“Touch me, Flynn. Rub my nipple with your fingers,” I instructed, my voice raspy as he started to move his fingers under mine.
He was hesitant at first but I took his hand and directed his movements. After a few minutes of uncomfortable pinching and awkward groping, he finally got the hang of it and I dropped my hand from his.
It felt good. Really good. I reached down and pulled my shirt over my head and dropped it on the floor. Flynn licked his lips, his eyes trained on his hand that covered my boob.
Fuck me, it was hot. I noticed the bulge in his pants and knew that he was enjoying it as much as I was.
“Use your other hand to touch my left breast,” I told him breathlessly. He did as I told him. He started to take some initiative and pushed aside the cotton bra and touched my bare skin.
My head rolled back as he worked his fingers. “Your skin feels so good, Ellie,” Flynn said, his voice breaking. He pinched and twisted my ni**les and I groaned. I wanted him to touch me all over but I knew this was as far as he could go right now. And that had to be enough.
After a few more minutes he dropped his hands. I opened my eyes and was relieved to see the smile on his face. I readjusted my bra, covering myself again.
“I liked that,” he admitted shyly, blatantly staring at my chest. I laughed and leaned over to kiss his mouth.
“I liked it too, Flynn,” I enthused.
After that, he wanted to touch my br**sts…a lot. And at the most random times. Like when we were sitting in the car. Or walking Murphy in the woods behind his house.
When he tried to grope me at Ma’s Diner, I had to remind him that we were in public and that sort of stuff had to wait until we got to his house. Even if I wanted to let him touch me as much as he wanted.
Our days were spent in beautiful tandem. The more time I spent with Flynn the more I pulled away from everything else.
I hadn’t seen Dania since her party. I had been avoiding her. We had spoken on the phone a few times and I was relieved to hear she had been busy. I didn’t feel so bad about making excuses not to see her.
I should have known my evasion tactics would only go so far, which I learned after I answered the phone one day as I relaxing on my couch for the first time in days.
As soon as I said hello she started to bombard me with questions about the apartment we had been to see several weeks ago. She asked if I had heard from the landlord and I could at least be honest and tell her I hadn’t.
I hadn’t been particularly proactive in following up though, but I didn’t tell her that. I wasn’t ready to admit to her that living together just wasn’t going to happen.
When my tongue swept into his mouth he groaned and my belly tightened in response. A deep, glowing warmth spread throughout my body. I ran my fingers through his hair and he seemed to enjoy that. He groaned again, the press of his lips becoming more frantic.
I tried not to wince as he bit down on my lower lip a little harder than I would have liked. He was still trying to figure out what I liked and what he liked. “Not so hard, baby,” I whispered into his mouth, making sure to tell him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered back, running his tongue along the skin he had just bitten. I gave him my own moan to encourage him.
I almost pulled away when he suddenly put both of his hands on my br**sts. I hadn’t been expecting that.
He didn’t move his hands. He didn’t rub or knead. He just held his palms over my ni**les, his fingers spanning the expanse of my boobs. Should I show him what to do? Would he freak out and pull away?
We were still kissing but I was fixated on his hands that sat, unmoving on my chest. Finally I pulled back and looked down pointedly at his hands. “Uh, what’s going on here?” I asked.
Flynn followed the direction of my stare and quickly dropped his hands. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, folding his hands together in his lap.
Oh shit, he was starting to rub them. He was gnawing on his bottom lip, another sign that he was upset.
“Flynn, it’s okay. I was just surprised is all,” I tried to reassure him. Flynn had closed down. He wouldn’t answer me. He had gone inside his head. Things had been going so well and then I had opened my stupid f**king mouth and ruined everything.
“I wanted to touch you. I’ve seen it before on television. It looked nice. I thought I’d touch you like that,” he said, still rubbing his hands furiously.
I wanted to bang my head against the wall in frustration. I wasn’t known for my grace or diplomacy. I didn’t do the whole walking on eggshells thing. I stomped all over those mother f**king eggs, smearing yolk everywhere.
But I had to tread carefully with Flynn. This was testing me in ways that I hadn’t imagined.
I felt the familiar flicker of anger. The desire to lash out and abandon this thing that was starting to prove difficult.
“I wanted to make you feel as good as I do,” he said and just like that my irritation burst and faded away.
I reached over and took his hand and slipped it under my shirt so that it rested on my breast but over the thin fabric of my bra. Flynn hissed in a breath, his eyes widening. He was so innocent. It was disconcerting at times. But he was eager to learn and that was a total turn on.
“Touch me, Flynn. Rub my nipple with your fingers,” I instructed, my voice raspy as he started to move his fingers under mine.
He was hesitant at first but I took his hand and directed his movements. After a few minutes of uncomfortable pinching and awkward groping, he finally got the hang of it and I dropped my hand from his.
It felt good. Really good. I reached down and pulled my shirt over my head and dropped it on the floor. Flynn licked his lips, his eyes trained on his hand that covered my boob.
Fuck me, it was hot. I noticed the bulge in his pants and knew that he was enjoying it as much as I was.
“Use your other hand to touch my left breast,” I told him breathlessly. He did as I told him. He started to take some initiative and pushed aside the cotton bra and touched my bare skin.
My head rolled back as he worked his fingers. “Your skin feels so good, Ellie,” Flynn said, his voice breaking. He pinched and twisted my ni**les and I groaned. I wanted him to touch me all over but I knew this was as far as he could go right now. And that had to be enough.
After a few more minutes he dropped his hands. I opened my eyes and was relieved to see the smile on his face. I readjusted my bra, covering myself again.
“I liked that,” he admitted shyly, blatantly staring at my chest. I laughed and leaned over to kiss his mouth.
“I liked it too, Flynn,” I enthused.
After that, he wanted to touch my br**sts…a lot. And at the most random times. Like when we were sitting in the car. Or walking Murphy in the woods behind his house.
When he tried to grope me at Ma’s Diner, I had to remind him that we were in public and that sort of stuff had to wait until we got to his house. Even if I wanted to let him touch me as much as he wanted.
Our days were spent in beautiful tandem. The more time I spent with Flynn the more I pulled away from everything else.
I hadn’t seen Dania since her party. I had been avoiding her. We had spoken on the phone a few times and I was relieved to hear she had been busy. I didn’t feel so bad about making excuses not to see her.
I should have known my evasion tactics would only go so far, which I learned after I answered the phone one day as I relaxing on my couch for the first time in days.
As soon as I said hello she started to bombard me with questions about the apartment we had been to see several weeks ago. She asked if I had heard from the landlord and I could at least be honest and tell her I hadn’t.
I hadn’t been particularly proactive in following up though, but I didn’t tell her that. I wasn’t ready to admit to her that living together just wasn’t going to happen.
