Page 77 of Instigator

I grin. “Nope.”

He lets out a groan, letting his head fall back against the headrest. “You’re going to kill me.”

The drive back to his apartment takes forever. His hand falls to my thigh, thumb swirling circles into my skin through the thick sweatpants. The warmth of his touch seeps through the fabric, heating me from the inside out.

When we finally reach his building, he takes me upstairs, undresses me in the cool light of day, and takes care of me. Every need, every want, every desire.

Only after I’ve come twice on his tongue does he let me bring him pleasure, and I suck him into my mouth, relishing the heady, salty taste of him. His cock is the perfect thickness; not too big, not too small, the perfect boyfriend dick. When we progress to more—if we progress to more—I won’t have to be worried about being uncomfortable.

Aidan’s hands thread through my hair, not tugging, not pulling. He simply cradles my skull, his reverent sighs spurring me on.

I’m glad he’ll let me touch him in this way. We’re still experimenting to find what works for him, what will trigger him, and how he can let himself go enough to enjoy it. I would hate to make him uncomfortable, even if by accident.

His cock is heavy on my tongue, the salty, bitter precum lighting up my taste buds proof that he’s enjoying this. Proof that he wants this. Wants me.

My hand works the parts of him that won’t fit in my mouth as my tongue dances along the throbbing veins lining his shaft. With the other, I cup his balls, sliding my fingers to the sensitive skin behind them.

“Ceci.” He chokes out my name, his voice lust-drenched. “I’m—I need to⁠—”

I pull off his cock, licking on the underside where his shaft meets his balls. “You’re such a good boy, Aidan. Come for me.”

Sucking him into my mouth again, I swirl my tongue around his dripping crown.

His fingers tightening in my hair is the only warning I get before he unleashes down my throat. I swallow him down, then lick him clean until he twitches away, likely oversensitive.

He reaches for me, manhandling me until I’m laid out at the head of the bed again, my hair fanning across the pillows.

And then he returns the favor. Again.

Half-delirious, we clean up and crawl back into bed. He curls his big body around me, holding me tight.

“Stay the night,” he murmurs, just like last time.

And again, I find myself agreeing.

So maybe penetrative sex is still off the table. That’s fine. I can work with that. I can’t wait to find all the other ways I can bring him to the brink of pleasure and then finally let go.

thirty

. . .

Aidan

I’m in the middle of my day-off workout when Coach appears in the threshold of the weight room. There are only a few guys in here, but when his eyes linger on me, I know this isn’t good.

“I need to talk to you,” he says.

“Yes, Coach.” I rerack the bar I’m deadlifting. “Now?”

He grunts, turning on his heel and striding from the room.

Okay, so I guess we’re meeting now.

Wiping the sweat off my brow, I follow him to his office. And when he closes the door behind me, my heart falls to the pit of my stomach.

I sink into the chair opposite his desk, and Coach folds his hands and stares at me, lips pursed.

He found out about the shower incident. I’m going to be benched. Or worse, he’s stripping the captaincy from me. I haven’t been producing on the ice, and I’ve been a terrible role model, and⁠—