Living With The Player

CAMILLA RENÉE

THURSDAY.

He’s scarcely touching me. I know he’s deterring. Several grunts underneath his breath which he thinks are unheard. Illogical words which keep sounding like Fuck. Bloody hell. Sweet torture.

But he’s not letting loose. I want him to let loose. His shirt still glued to his chest is any indication that he doesn’t want to. But why?

He tugs my hands away when I try to fish his hair, I’m out of breath, but I don’t want this to end. If it’s all he’s generous to give I’ll take it.

I want more. But I’ll take what I reap.

“The things I could teach you, the places I could reach, what I could do.”

He scuffs the tip of his tongue against the swell of my breasts, sending out ripples of pleasure through my entire body. His might stay on, but mine has been discarded. Shirt and bra. When did that ensue? No. Fucking. Clue.Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

I fold and refold, gripping the sheets and gnawing my teeth against the corner of my mouth.

“Sadly, I can’t go more than this. As much as this will make me vomit tomorrow morning, I must draw the line and stop. When we do this, you’ll remain completely mine, not some half sided or out of the moment spontaneous sex. Got it?”

I’m pretty sure I shook my head in negation which should explain his low chuckle. He hadn’t pulled away and I don’t think I could stay like this.

“But it would be unfair of me to leave you this way. Although it has a sex appeal. Writhing under my touch and solely at my mercy. As you should be. Now, I could back away. That’s door number one. Huh?”

I bobbed my head repeatedly, ultimately certain it’ll urge him to proceed.

“Or there’s door number two. I could make you come and stay here. Probably fall asleep. Which?”

He lugged his tongue across my lower abdomen, directly above my Jean.

“D-Dylan…”

I twitched, forcefully jerking back. He clamped a hand over my knee, strongly pulling back.

“That’s not a response Darlin, I need an answer. Clock’s ticking.”

He dangled the finger over the button, using his thumb pad to draw circles on my panty lines.

“T-Two.”

“That answer has gone by. Now I need to hear it. Reassurance and all that. No. No. There’s a sly word, it’s at the edge of my tongue. I’ve almost got it. Wait-consent. Yeah. That’s it.”

He chuckles.

I bat a lid open, watching his hair fall forward. I unlocked my hands from the sheet, reaching for his head.

“Don’t be impatient Cam. Say the words and that’s it.”

Steadily, he presses his tongue against my exposed skin, drawing a line with it and then placing soft kisses along with his creation.

“Yes.”

I divulged, never hearing myself sounding so breathless.

“Yes to what love?”

A jolt of pleasure sparked when a button came undone, exposing my inner-wear. I try to recall what colour of panty I eventually went for. It beats me. Surely it’s not something so silly.

“Yes… I… Want… You… To…”

I retract my hand and grip once again, clamping my lips and muffling the cries.

“To what?”

“Don’t be shy, it’s just us. You can tell me.”

He’s doing this on purpose I’m sure. He could easily peel the cotton away from my skin, but he draws circles with his tongue. Teasing. Torturing.

“Make me come.”

I gasp and shut my eyes.

“Took you a while…”

I hint at the ghost of a smile across his face when he tugs away completely.

I awaken my lids because of loss of contact and I’m about to say something like-

“Why’d you stop?”

Throwing away the final shred of dignity I had left, but thankfully Dylan crawls back before I can utter a word, yanks the rest of my jeans down my legs and props my knees. I press my legs down on the bed.

“Round two for question game. Whoever wins this round wins it all, and here’s the deal-breaker; There are no incorrect answers.”

He’s barely getting an audience from me, I catch one of two words from his lips while the rest are hazy at the back of my mind, but his next sentence is everything. And so much more.

“Do you want me to spell my name with my tongue or do you want me to carve it out with my finger? Sadly, those are the only two options for now. What say you, Miss Renée.”

Does he not understand I’m barely able to breathe at this point? I’m gasping for air. My lungs are clogged, and he comes up with that.

“Tick. Offers blows up in ten seconds. It’s an easy choice.”

I blink open, catch him between my legs and I shut my eyes again, exhaling largely.

“Just…” “Dylan…”

“Tell me.”

I whimper and arch my lower back. Dylan dips his finger, pulling the linen of the only thing covering my core.

“Sigh. Time’s up. I’ll play judge and jury then executioner obviously.”

Another tiny chuckle sends out pleasure surges. Then Dylan makes rapid work of my panties, tossing them behind him.

“Soaked.”

He rasps, lowering his head, positioning it between my spread knees. I brace the entire sheet and toss my head against the headboard.

Dylan’s tongue glides over my slit, and then he presses down for seconds, building up the angst he needs. It takes biting my lips and dragging my tongue not to scream.

How long has this been? Three years? Four? Has it always been this good?

“Calm Darlin. I’ve barely even begun.”

He chuckles directly against my core, taking out a singer finger once again drawing circles over the top.

“My name.”

I nearly furrow my brow since it’s confusing as fuck, but as Dylan Emerton is perfectly sculpted, he clears all doubt.

“Undoubtedly perfect.”

He muses against my opening, trailing kisses at the centre and licking up everything I was willing to give.

“Dylan.”

I moaned as the first finger slipped in, and he’s a man of his words. It did feel like carving, he drags the edge then slowly pumps, pulls out thrusts back in.

Speechless. Breathless. Please make it not stop. Ever.

“Don’t…”

“God, Dylan.”

I cried out.

“So close baby. You’re so close.”

He coos, adding a second finger, increasing his pace, whispering while I called out to whatever deity was up there. So fucking good.

“For me love. Come for me.”

With yet another cry, I let go and spurt on his finger, my arms jerking and my knuckles worn out from holding onto the sheets for that long.

“Perfection itself.”

I heard his mumble, I crossed my legs and he pulled himself up to me, bringing both hands to his chest, yanking thus ending whatever gap was left.

The last thing I recall is his hands parting the hair from my face and Dylan’s lips pressed against my temples. Then I shut my eyes with an easy smile across my cheeks.

******

FRIDAY.

Tentatively, I pulled a hand draped across my shoulder. Dylan stirred, sounding a muffled noise whilst in his sleep. I freeze and mumble three prayers to the Almighty. I’m a terrible person and by anyone’s books a sinner, but please answer.

Sighing, I cross my knees, tucking one lip over the other and sliding out of his bed, tugging at the covers.

“Fuck.”

I swore, turning half my body to pull it off and then getting off his bed completely.

I lowered my head, picking up my underwear and jeans, waiting until I was in the hallway before slipping those on.

Only then could I breathe properly.

“What is this a one-night stand? And we haven’t even gotten to the sex part.”

Too soon. His chuckles are even better with a morning voice.

“Camilla, turn around.”

He commanded. Should just make a run for it. Bag. Cell phone. Out the door.

“You won’t make it past the door before I catch up to you, which I’d prefer not to, so turn around.”

“W-Why.”

“Because my sleep was better with you laying one foot away and I’d like to continue sleeping.”

“I should get back to my dorm Dylan. I have-”

“I know you should get back, I’m asking you not to. So turn around.”

I’m a good racer. I can make it to the door. The end to the lobby is what? Three strides away. Getting the cell off the couch, my bag is somewhere around, I can leave that for later…

“Camilla. Turn. Around.”

I gulped.

“Please.”

Exhaling after each step, I revolved around and faced him.

Shirtless Dylan. Going once. An all-time favourite.

“I understand you’re shorter, but eyes up here would you?”

Clearing my throat, I pushed a little of my hair back and glimpsed at his face again.

“Come back to bed.”

“Why?”

“I just told you like fifteen seconds ago.”

He half glared, pulling both hands in the air.

More like seventeen, but I’m not counting – I am.

“But I have to-”

“I’m not sure how long it’ll take before everything screws up again, it’s a constant in my life, so, please. I want to enjoy this before it blows up in my face. Come back to bed with me.”

He slumped his shoulders, defeated. I glanced behind me – the lobby. My things. Chaos aside. Jimmy. Miranda. My mother. Looking forward – Dylan. A few hours of escape.

Sigh.

“Okay.”

I drag the rest of the hair away from my face, taking two strides and closing the gap between Dylan and me.

“Peace.”

He murmurs, encircling my waist, then burying his nose into my hair.

Peace. Well, it’s the calm before the storm.

****

Thoughts!? I plan on getting revenge on behalf of Jimmy though, this is unacceptable. Fingers crossed.