Evanna Austen a freshman in college, starts out her journey with her friends. After successfully passed out her freshman year she was ready to began her second year more than ever, with the friends she loved. Everything was going fine until her unco...
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As I rouse from a heavy slumber I am first aware of the coolness of the air and the fragrance that I can only name as fresh. I bury myself into the warm, soft sheets and rub the remainders of sleep. I yawn and open my eyes against my will. The site that greets me was something which I know I would not forget easily. Liam is slumping against the headboard, upper part naked, tousled hairs and hazel eyes watching me. For how long, I have no idea. I try to sit up and it take me a moment to realize the soft sheet I was burrowing myself into was his chest. I jerk up. There is a hidden smile on his face and I nervously tug my hairs.
My eyes downcast and naked thighs comes in view, flashing the memories of last night; how they're being spread apart by him and how he made me feel so good. It was so vivid and it came down, crashing on me like an unexpected avalanche. My face burns and now I'm awake, perhaps more fully awake than I've ever been. Liam eyes fixated on my mortified face and I am so glad that I am not naked. Just like how I was underneath him. Stop thinking about it.
I am wearing his shirt and my panties, both of which I have no clue how I got myself into. I am sure he covered me yet I don't remember, didn't even feel his hands doing it. It must've been some heck of a sleep. I fiddle with my fingers not knowing how to begin. What do people talk after doing intimate stuffs like we did last night.? Do they talk about it or do they act as if it's not a big of deal. I mean considering him sure it can't be that big, he must have been in this position a lot of time. I ignore the sour taste of jealousy in my throat. But me- well it was my first time and it is a big deal for me.
"How are you feeling?" The awkward silence gets break by him.
"Good." I barely whisper. The look in his eyes tells me he is definitely not asking about how I am feeling after waking up.
"Here I thought you might need it." He picks a steaming mug from the night stand and handed me. Coffee.
"Thank you." I mumble and eye the scorching beverage.
"I add the milk this time." He assures. I bite my lips to prevent the smile forming on my lips, remembering the day he made a coffee with water.
I take a sip and it is better, so much better. "It's nice."
He nods and continues to stare at me as I sip. It wasn't my third sip when he said something that had me choke on the drink.
"Was I being too rough with my mouth last night?"
I cough and wipe my lips. I blush and shake my head. His eyes says before his mouth could so I speak. "No."
"So you liked it. My tongue between your legs?" he asks unashamedly. I nearly spill the drink from my hand. How can he be so vulgar and look like a freaking innocent man asking about weather.
I bite my lips and look down. I liked it a lot. It was incredible and so new for me, nothing I ever experienced before. Now, I know why people who often do it, did it. It is literally an experience which could not be compare with anything. I finally get to feel it.
