Call Me A Liar [Book 1] (Justin Bieber Love Story / Fan Fiction)

17

I don't know how long it takes me to recover.

All I know is we've been standing this way for several minutes, kissing every now and again as Justin eases me from what could be the most intense orgasm of my entire life.

He's so soft and gentle as he strokes my damp hair behind my ear again and again with one hand and holds my naked hip in the other, rubbing small circles into my skin with his thumb.

Lust completely put aside, the aftercare he's providing to me is next level. He stays with me until I catch my breath, which I know for certain will take some time.

"You okay?" the corners of his lips lift as they hover over mine.

I feel entirely helpless as I nod, riding out this state of pure bliss that he's so graciously given me. I'm truly in a haze.

Instinctively I lean forward as if I've done this millions of times, kissing the soft pair of lips before me.

"I really like kissing you," I admit.

"Mm," he hums into me, laughing softly. "That's crazy, because I really like kissing you too."

My fingers loosely slide up to his neck, wrapping the coldness of his gold chain around them. His tongue is hot on my lips, drawing me even closer to him. So close, that I can feel that he's still hard for me.

"Justin," I pant, brushing my lips past his.

"Mhm," he moans again, sounding so concentrated on our lips together.

It sounds like nothing in the world could stop him. That's until, of course, I open my mouth.

"Can we, um—" I start, my eyes so hopeful as they bore into his. "I really want to—"

"Hm?" he hums into my mouth.

I feel my hand slide down his body, down to the waistline of his pants, then to his hard length that I can feel through his jeans. A moan almost flees my lips from the feeling of it.

It's no secret that I want him. Over the last few weeks, I've been fantasizing about what it would be like for us to be together. Whether he knew that or not before, I'm starting to think he sees it now.

But to my dismay, he looks down at the floor while still keeping me close. Luckily for me he's still got a soft smile played upon his lips, but I have a feeling he's not going to give me the answer I really want.

"Jane, we're drunk," he looks back up to me so caring. "Remember?"

I shake my head. "So? It's just sex. And I— I really want to."

He's quiet when my fingers loop around his chain again, pulling him back into me. Our lips meet — I know he can't help himself— but he pulls away shortly after.

"I, um," he swallows, looking down for a second and then back up to me. "I want to. Really, I do. But I think we should wait until we're not drunk."

I giggle, our lips still brushing. "Why?"

He groans in aggravation when he kisses me again, the both of us going absolutely mad from these mixed signals. I know he wants this, there's no denying it. But for some reason, he wants to wait it out. My impulsiveness is having a hard time understanding.

Still, he separates our lips again.

"I just— I think we should wait. I don't want you to be drunk and regret it, that's all," he explains. I don't even think he believes what he's saying in this moment.

I press my lips together when he moves in again, then rest my hands on his bare chest to stop him. He looks at me with a crinkled brow. He looks cute when he's confused.