More Than A Bully: North Woods University Books 1-3

by J. L. Beck

  “Are you going to change or are you just going to stand there and watch me?”

  “I…I don’t know, maybe I should change in the bathroom,” I say nervously.

  “You know I pretty much saw you naked the other night, right?”

  My cheeks heat in embarrassment, of course he did. Stupid Jules. Stupid. I must be showing every emotion that I’m feeling right at that moment because Rem cringes as if he realizes he said something wrong.

  “I’m sorry Cole hurt you… If I would have known what he was planning, I wouldn’t have left you alone with him. I swear I had no idea that he put something in your drink and I thought you wanted to be with him since you went on a bunch of dates together. I was trying to let you go, let you be happy.”

  “Dates? What? I never went on a date with him!” I nearly yell.

  That fucking asshole.

  Rem gives me a disbelieving look. “I saw you, Jules… at the diner, with Thomas and his girl. You all looked cozy.” There’s a jealousness that lingers in his voice.

  “That wasn't a date, Rem. I was there to pick up some chocolate cake and he talked me into sitting down with them while I was waiting. I was there for like five minutes and as soon as the waitress came back with my order, I jumped up and left. It wasn’t a date, Rem, believe me. I’ve been doing everything I can to avoid him. The last thing I would do is subject myself to an hour long date with the guy.”

  “Fuck!” he curses, clearly angry with himself that he believed Cole’s pathetic story.

  “Yeah, we weren’t dating and as for the other night, I just want to forget it ever happened. It’s one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made.”

  “Well, I want you to know I wouldn’t ever do that to you…to anyone…”

  “I already know that. You’re a pure gentleman.” I roll my eyes, and he lifts a questioning brow at me.

  “I wouldn’t go that far. I’m definitely an asshole, but I wouldn’t do that. I can’t believe I was friends with him, that I didn’t see his douchebagness from a mile away. He never did end up coming back to the frat house and even if he tried, I wouldn’t have let him in. I won’t live with a fucking rapist. He’s pathetic and if I ever see him again, I’ll do more than rearrange his face. His family will need to make funeral arrangements.”

  “He’s not worth it,” I respond, pulling my shirt off, and then unbuttoning my pants. As I push them down my legs, I catch Remington’s eyes wandering over my naked body. There’s a hunger in them, a primal need that’s directed right at me and it only gets worse when I reach around and unhook my bra. The need inside of me mounts when his pink tongue darts out over his full bottom lip. I want to kiss him, taste him.

  My pussy clenches, but there’s nothing there to sedate the ache forming inside of it. I want Remington, almost as badly as I wanted him three years ago.

  I slide the bra off and pull the shirt on that he gave me, trying my best not to react to him, and the heat in my core. When my head pops through the head hole, I find he’s still staring at me, but the look in his eyes has diminished a bit, almost like he’s suppressing the need.

  “You want to wear the sweatpants too?” he asks, his voice deep, thicker than normal.

  I shake my head without thinking, turn around, and walk over to the bed. He pulls off his shirt, discarding it on the floor before he follows me to the bed in nothing but a pair of boxers.

  My mouth goes dry, and I chew on my bottom lip. I try not to let my gaze linger on his muscular chest and well-defined abs, but it’s so damn hard. It’s so unfair how good the last three years have been to his body. All deliciously firm muscle, each ab carved out like stone.

  Gah, I have to stop.

  He smirks when he catches me staring and I quickly crawl into bed, pulling the blanket up to my chin. I involuntarily shiver, my pulse quickening when he slides into bed and under the same sheet as me.

  Bad. This is so bad.

  “You’re just as shy now as you were back then.”

  “Am not,” I lie.

  “Shh, you don’t have to lie to me, Jules. I won’t judge you, or tease you.” There’s a teasing tone to his voice and I roll over to face him. I probably shouldn’t, but I’ve spent the last three years wondering if I should’ve told him I wanted him more than a friend. I think I can handle being this close to him now.

  But as soon as I face him, I clam up. He’s so intimidating, not in a sense of being scary, but in a sense that he’s been with a whole lot of girls, and is far more experienced than I ever could imagine being.

  “Jules?” he whispers my name, his voice caressing something deep inside of me. He moves to face me, his body rubbing against mine as he does so, and I can feel the heat of his skin rolling off of him and crashing into me, blanketing me with warmth.

  “Yeah?” I croak.

  “Do you feel it? The connection between us?”

  I consider telling him no. We don’t even know if we’re friends yet, doing anything else would complicate things, and then my brain, my stupid brain reminds me of what it felt like before, when he fingered me. Yeah, he was doing it out of anger, but he was gentle, and his touch brought immense pleasure.

  “Yes…” I answer him breathlessly.

  “Do you…” He pauses, and I feel my heart threatening to beat out of my chest. “Do you want me to touch you?”

  I stare into his eyes with a thousand different reasons to say no, all while knowing none of them matter right now.

  “Yes,” I whisper so quietly I’m not even sure that he heard me until he reaches his hand out to touch the side of my face. He traces the contours of my face with his finger, his eyes moving to my lips, and like a crack addict, I’m addicted to his touch.

  “Please?” I lick my lips impatiently and when all he does is smile, I move, pushing him onto his back so I can straddle him.

  It’s so unlike me to be this possessive, in control, but it’s always been this way with him. I’ve always felt the need to touch him, to let him touch me. I just never understood why. I move, then he moves, and then we move together as one.

  Tossing my leg over his middle, I press my panty-covered center against his bare stomach before he can move. Peering down into his almost black eyes, I gasp. I can feel his hardened cock against my ass. The temptation to press my bottom down against him is too great and as soon as I do, he’s reacting.

  “Shit, Jules,” he growls, and his hands circle my hips, his hold possessive as he moves them just enough to send a shiver of pleasure up my spine.

  “I want you.” The words come out breathless. “I want you to touch me like you did before.” I can’t believe I’m admitting this, especially out loud.

  “You do?” he asks as if he has a hard time believing me.

  I nod my head and a big grin spreads across his face.

  “Okay…but you have to do something in return for me.”

  “W-what?” I’m nervous to hear the answer, not because I don’t want to do it but because I’m worried he’s not going to appreciate my clumsy and inexperienced moves.

  “I want you to kiss me.”

  A kiss? Not what I was expecting but something I can do. Lowering my head, I slant my lips over his and press them firmly against his full ones. Fire fills my belly, and something inside my soul ignites at the contact of our lips touching.

  This time, there is no hesitation between us.

  As soon as our lips touch, he pulls me even closer, my chest flush against his, the thin fabric of my t-shirt being the only thing keeping us from fully touching, and I hate it.

  I want the fabric gone. One of his hands moves from my hip and threads into the silky strands of my hair, pulling me closer, deepening the kiss until my whole body is consumed with flames of pleasure.

  Consumed by him.

  My nipples harden at the contact of his hard chest, and I rub them against him, small jolts of pleasure rippling across my skin as I do.

  “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He pulls awa
y just enough to speak, and I grind my center against his hard abs, every little movement making my blood sing, my body, my pussy hungry for more.

  “I want you…please?” I mewl, nipping at his bottom lip. I’m unsure of what I really want or need, all I know is that whatever it is, it lives inside of the man under me, the man looking into my eyes with so much love, so much passion.

  “You have me…” he whispers, his fingers tracing my face as if he’ll never get another chance to.

  “No, I mean…” I kiss him again, feeling like I have to make up for lost time. “I want you to make me…” I’m still slightly ashamed to say it out loud.

  “Come?” he asks, a twinkle of amusement in his hooded eyes. “You want me to make you come?”

  I nod my head furiously, not even worrying how eager I must look.

  “With what? My tongue, or my fingers?”

  Oh god, I didn’t think it would get this far. Swallowing, I wonder for a moment why he didn’t say cock, then again, I’m sure he knows I’m not ready for that.

  “Your fingers,” I croak. As soon as the words pass my lips, he’s flipping us, my back lands against the mattress where he was just laying moments ago.

  Goosebumps break out over my body, watching as he lets go of whatever was holding him back from devouring me. His hands shake as he pushes my shirt up, peppering my belly with wet kisses. I can’t help myself, the sensations rushing through me are unlike anything I’ve felt before and I start to squirm against the bed sheets. As if he knows my body better than even I do, his deft fingers start to pluck gently at one of my hardened nipples.

  My teeth sink into my bottom lip to suppress the moan that wants to rip from my throat. He continues his assault against my breasts until I’m nothing but a withering mess, my thighs spread, and my center burning hot with need.

  “Shit. I bet I could make you come just from playing with your tits,” he says, giving me a cheeky grin, and I wouldn't bet against that, cause I’m pretty sure he could too.

  When he pulls away, I whimper, wanting more of him and damn near sigh when I feel him sliding my lace panties to the side with nimble fingers. His touch is gentle, a caress against the silky smooth skin.

  “If you want me to stop, you need to say so now.”

  The tension in his body and deepness of his voice tells me he’s barely restrained, close to the edge, but I don’t care I’m so consumed with need, my body burning up, that I couldn’t ever imagine telling him to stop.

  “If you stop, I might explode. So don’t you dare stop,” I warn with a smile.

  My response causes his gaze to darken, and before I can say or think anything else, he starts his assault on my pussy, rubbing small circles over my swollen clit.

  Oh god.

  I can’t hold in the moan of pleasure any longer, and it releases from deep inside me, vibrating through my core.

  “Ahhhh…” It’s loud, louder than I intended it to be and my cheeks pinken.

  “Shhh, my dad is down the hall,” Rem snickers before shutting me up with his lips on mine. He kisses me deeply, his tongue entering my mouth as soon as I part my lips, all the while he continues to dance over my center with his fingers.

  My folds are slick with arousal, and I can feel how easily his thick fingers move over me and it only makes me crave him more.

  His finger slides down my slit once again, the friction against my clit almost too much, as he finds my entrance. He slides into my slippery channel with ease, his thick finger coated with my arousal. He doesn’t move, giving me a moment to adjust to his finger. This is how I’ve always imagined it would be.

  No rush, no hate or anger.

  Just need, pure need.

  “So tight, so ready for me.”

  “Yes,” I answer, my chest heaving, one of my hands gripping onto his arm just to feel him. I watch him through hooded eyes as he watches his finger as he starts to move in and out of me with deep, steady thrusts.

  “You going to come for me? Squeeze my finger like I know you want to squeeze my cock.”

  Is that even a question right now? All I can feel is him, his body, his soul, owning every part of me. My legs spread wider, giving him more room to claim me and his heated gaze lifts to my face.

  I lift my hips out of reflex, needing more, just a tiny bit more, that’s all I want.

  All I need.

  “Rem…” I moan, and as if he knows just what I need, he adds a second finger, scissoring them deep inside me. He does this a few more times, his fingers finding this sweet spot at the top of my pussy, a spot that sends me crashing over the edge and into straight oblivion.

  “Fuck me, Jules…my cock’s so envious of my fingers right now. I want to be inside you, feeling your pussy tighten around me, milking my cock.” I can barely hear him over the blood rushing in my ears and then everything falls apart. I start to clench around his fingers, my body suspended in time as waves of pleasure caress every inch of me.

  “Mmm…” is all I can muster up as he gently withdraws his fingers and brings them to his lips. My arousal, my release coating his thick digits.

  “I've fingered you, and next I'll feast on you, dipping my tongue in and out of your tightness until you fall apart, then I'll make you mine in every way just as I imagined I always would. There won’t be an inch of you that I haven’t tasted, touched, or caressed.”

  His confession terrifies me a little, okay, maybe a lot. He can't possibly mean that, can he? He doesn't want me. Does he? The question I just asked myself gets lost somewhere in my mind when he places those two thick digits into his mouth and sucks my release right off of them.

  Holy hell.

  His eyes close briefly and a deep moan rumbles from within his chest.

  “You know we can't be friends, Jules.”

  I blink, hurt and confused. “What? Why?”

  A grin spreads across his lips and he leans forward, his taut body pressing me farther into the mattress. He’s all man, owning me, possessing me.

  “Because we were never just friends. It was always something more, even if you didn't want to see it, even if you were afraid it was always going to be more than friendship. We were never meant to be friends. We were always meant to be lovers.”

  I nod, unable to form a response, because I know he's right and I'm still a little scared to face that fact.

  “Do you?” My eyes move to the excessively large tent in his boxers. “You want me to return the favor?” I briefly felt his cock before, against my ass the first time he fingered me. He felt huge, but I never got the chance to really look, to see how beautiful it really is.

  “I won’t deny a hand job, but I cannot handle your mouth on me right now. I want you too badly.”

  “So, is that a yes?” I question, my lip between my teeth.

  “It’s not a yes, but a fuck yes.” He lowers himself to the mattress beside me. I pull my shirt down and push up onto my knees, licking my lips nervously, feeling a flush creep over my cheeks. My inexperience is getting the best of me.

  “Will you…you know…show me how?”

  Rem’s eyes go wide, and he tips his head back against the pillows.

  “You’re going to kill me, Jules. You’ve never given a hand job before?”

  I shake my head. “Is that bad? Do you not want one now? I know I’m inexperienced, but it can’t be that hard, can it?” I panic, afraid he might pull away, tell me he doesn't want me to do it.

  I’m nothing like the girls he’s been with, I know this, but I want to please him, pleasure him like he did me.

  “Do I not want one?” He shakes his head. Unhinged need flickers in his eyes and he pushes down his boxers, exposing his cock to me.

  His very large, very angry looking cock.

  “You have no idea how much I want your hands wrapped around my dick. Knowing that you haven't done this with anyone else…it’s a huge fucking turn on. I don’t need you to be like the other girls I’ve been with. When it comes to you, there is no comp
arison.”

  He reaches for my hand and I give it to him, letting him guide me to his shaft. I wrap my fingers around his thickness, my hand trembling.

  He’s so soft, so warm.

  Why is such a small act so intimidating? When he places his hand over mine, I shiver, and look away from his cock and back up to his face to gauge his expression.

  There’s a seductiveness to him and for once I wish I wasn’t so inexperienced. He starts to move my hand up and down his shaft, and I’m surprised by how soft the flesh feels. My gaze is fixated on his cock, on my hand as it moves up and down.

  Remington’s head tips back against the pillows, his eyes close, and his features draw tight like he’s in pain.

  “Am I doing okay? Are you in pain? I can stop if you want me to.”

  He blinks his eyes open. “No...no pain...it just feels so fucking good, so good. You have no idea how long I’ve waited to feel your hands on my cock. I’ve envisioned you doing this since I was fourteen beating off in the shower to the image.”

  His confession makes me feel powerful, it gives me this strange courage and I smirk, continuing to move my hand with his, I pull his hand off of mine, and stroke him all on my own wanting to finish the job myself. A glistening drop of cum beads the tip of his penis, and I lean down and swipe it up.

  At the contact of my tongue on his cock, a deep rumble fills the room. A surge of endorphins rips through me, as I do it again. He rewards me with another moan, and I keep doing it. His biceps strain and his hands fist the bed sheets.

  He’s at my mercy, completely, and I love it, I love it so much. I suck on the head of his cock while continuing to stroke him. It doesn’t take long for him to start bucking his hips, his cock slipping farther and farther into my mouth. I know he said he didn’t want me to give him a blow job, but he doesn’t seem to be objecting now.

  “I’m close...if you don’t want me to come in your pretty little mouth then pull away now,” he whispers gruffly, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and while I want to do that sometime, tonight isn’t the night.

  Releasing him with a pop, I watch as he falls apart, tremors of pleasure ripple through his body and his cock twitches in my hand a moment before sticky hot cum jets from his cock, landing on my hands and his lower stomach. His whole body tenses before he relaxes back into the mattress and only then do I pull my hand away.