Page 8 of The Devoted Dastard

“Well … no. It just … felt right with you.”

Niall stared at me for a beat before situating me in his arms and speeding up the last set of steps. He pushed the door into the hallway open with his shoulder and took long strides to the corner unit. Hitting in his code, he shouldered this door too and took us to the couch, falling onto it with a heavy thunk.

“Are you some sort of fairy godmother for sexual dreams?”

“Are you calling me a dream, Niall?” I shuffled on his lap so my knees bracketed his legs. “Or an old lady?”[

“Dream,” he panted, arms going to my hips then sliding up, under my shirt, to my waist. “Definitely a dream.”

I smiled and leaned in to kiss him.

Despite Niall being some big sports guy, he wasn’t particularly tall. Just a few inches taller than me. All his athleticism was in his lean, toned muscles. And not lean as in thin, but thick layers of muscle, the biceps, the thighs. Even his neck felt like tight, corded muscle.

But based on our conversation, I’d bet that tightness was more from stress than anything else. And this one-night stand was all about relieving all that tension.

“Sit back,” I told him, pushing him by the shoulders until his back hit the cushion. Then I slid off the couch, kicking my shoes off before getting on my knees.

“Wait, what’re you doing?” Niall asked, leaning forward, hand outstretched to grab me. But I knocked his arm away and pushed him back again.

“What I want. Now be good and sit back.” I pushed up on my knees and slipped my fingers under the waistband of his shorts. “Unless you want me to stop.”

“I just don’t want you to do anything you don’t like. And that’s sort of …” He trailed off, pink coloring his cheeks.

That made me laugh. “Do I strike you as a woman who does things I don’t like?”

“No,” he said, chuckling.

“Exactly, so unless you don’t want to experience a hot redhead eagerly suck your cock, let me have my fun.”

“Fuck,” he hissed, collapsing back into the couch before lifting his hips so I could tug his pants and underwear down. Free, his cock stood straight to attention, pulsing as I licked my lips.

“That’s a good boy,” I murmured, getting comfortable between his knees. Leaning closer, I let myself drool over the thickness in front of me, gathering my spit before letting it fall on his cock. Niall gasped, his head falling back. But it snapped right back up when my hand wrapped around his cock to spread my spit over him.

“How do you like the grip?”

“T-tighter,” he stammered, eyes fluttering as I closed the gap between my fingers and started stroking him in earnest.

“Like that?” I asked as his Adam’s apple bobbed. He nodded, making some affirmative noises and moved his hand like he was jerking off, his wrist twisting in the motion. I copied the movement, visualizing drawing a figure eight with my fingertips along his length. As I found a good pace, Niall started to thrust into my hand, eyes completely rolled back into his head.

Satisfied with my "handy" work, I leaned even closer to twist the flat of my tongue over his head.

“Leah,” he groaned, my name fumbling out of his mouth with reverence and desperation. “I can’t take any more.”

“Can’t take any more?” I repeated with a laugh, pulling my mouth away and slowing my pace in case he was really reaching his limit. “But I just started.”

“Give me something to do, please. I can’t—I need to do something for you, please.”

Since he wasn’t asking me to stop, I twisted my tongue around his head. “Do you have anything in mind?”

Given that I’d just gotten a taste of him and his reactions, I wasn’t keen to stop sucking his cock. And while I knew what I’d like him to do, eating pussy was a bit too intimate to ask of a one-night stand. Which was a real shame, ’cause as a non-dater who never hit that intimacy landmark, I really missed getting eaten out. The sensation of a man’s head between my thighs, the scratch of his beard, the heat of—

“Can you get up on my face, please?”

I pulled away from his cock to stare at him. The blue of his eyes completely eaten up by his dilated pupils, nothing there but desire.

Slowly letting go of his cock, like if I moved too fast, he’d change his mind, I stood to strip off my bottoms. As I disrobed, Niall stroked himself with a tight grip. We both watched each other intently. I clocked his movements, how tight his grip was, the way he chewed at his bottom lip. And his eyes ate up every piece of me, the freckles, the stretch marks, the curves, his chest heaving at the sight.

“Just wait until you see my tits,” I teased and he smiled, dimples showing underneath his thin layer scruff.