Shine Not Burn

by Elle Casey

  “I need to taste you,” he said in a half-growling voice. He pushed me back on the bed and dropped to his knees between my legs. They were hanging awkwardly off the edge and I wanted to move back, but I didn’t have time. I started to say something but stopped when his mouth was suddenly on me, without preamble and with almost no warning. One second I was recovering from a tired jaw and the next I had this man’s beautiful face buried between my legs, working some kind of crazy magic on me.

  “Oh my god,” I said, sounding almost like I was crying. The sensations that rocketed up from between my legs to my heart and brain and every other part of me were like nothing I’d ever felt before. A long, low moan escaped my throat and I arched my lower back, pushing myself into him, silently begging for more.

  His tongue slipped inside me and did something that made me twitch with pre-orgasm excitement. A finger came up to replace his tongue while his mouth went up to my most sensitive of places and very gently, very softly made slow circles and up and down motions. I lifted my legs and shamelessly put them over his shoulders, using the leverage to get myself closer to his amazing mouth.

  He took to the invitation eagerly, moaning himself as his movements came faster and harder. Normally I would have passed on this kind of approach, but I was completely and utterly gone. I’d fallen into a sexual vortex that had taken over every ounce of shame or fear that might have tried to rear its ugly head. I wanted to spread my legs as wide as they could go and feel every single bit of what he was doing to me. Andy the slut was in the house.

  He moaned, a deep rumble against my most sensitive parts, sending delicate vibrations shooting up into the core of me and making me gasp with surprise and pure wanton joy. I could feel the wave coming … the one that would take me to a higher place, the end of our wild ride. I desperately wanted the satisfaction, but then again I didn’t want it … not yet. I wanted the pleasure to last all night.

  “You’re close,” he said, his tongue not stopping but his hand drawing away. He rested both palms on my stomach. They were warm and spanned my body’s width. He stroked my skin and reached up to take both breasts in his hands, pinching the heavy nipples and making me cry out again. I strained against every part of him, needing more of all of it. I was greedy and totally shameless.

  “Yes,” I cried, breathing heavily and moaning. I couldn’t help it. Everything was spinning out of control.

  “I want to come when I’m inside you,” he said huskily.

  “Yes. Please, Mack. Come inside.” Rational thought was gone. All I wanted was to feel him filling me completely, to enjoy the sensation of his cock stretching me to the limit. He was way bigger than any man I’d ever been with before, and I welcomed the new experience with open arms and open legs.

  Suddenly he was gone from between my legs and I heard a condom wrapper tearing. Then he was suspended above me with stiff arms, his palms planted on the bed at my sides. One of them slipped under my waist and dragged me closer to the top of the bed. I ran my hands up the bulging muscles of his forearms and biceps and snaked my arms around his neck, pulling him down to me. I reveled in the smell of our passion on his mouth.

  His hard length pushed against me, begging to come inside as he lowered his body to mine. We kissed and tasted each other’s tongues, the passion still as strong as it had been when he was between my legs.

  I reached a hand down along with one of his, and together we guided the head of his erection over to my opening. I was completely ready for him.

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  It seemed like a crazy question considering where our mouths had just been, but I guess he was just one of those guys who put the actual act of sex up on a different pedestal. “Yes, I’m sure,” I said between tongue-heavy kisses, certain I wasn’t risking anything. The cocktails probably had a lot to do with it, but I didn’t care one bit. The passion had overruled any ounce of common sense I might have had, which explained what this sexy stranger who I’d just met was doing in my room right now. “Just put it in me, please.” I was begging but I didn’t care. Shameless would be my new middle name.

  At first, there was some resistance, my folds so heavy with passion they were blocking his entry. He reached down once more to move the tip around, guiding it in slowly with an expert hand.

  I cried out, spreading my legs and pushing my hips forward, urging him to come in deeper.

  “Mmmm, just be patient,” he said, a devilish smile forming under my kisses.

  “I can’t,” I begged, “please.”

  He slid into me just the slightest bit more and then pulled out, deftly avoiding my attempts at getting him to go in deeper.

  “You’re teasing me,” I said, waiting breathlessly for his next move. I both loved and despised what he was doing to me.

  He pushed the head in a little farther this time. Leaving it there for a few seconds, he moved his hips in a small circle and then pulled back again. It was like he was dipping into a honey pot or something, just getting a taste and giving a taste and then disappearing. It was maddening and delicious.

  “You’re evil,” I said, putting my hands on his hips. I was prepared to do whatever necessary to get him to do this thing all the way, including forcing him down on top of me.

  “Oh yeah? You really think so?” He pushed into me, stopping when he was halfway in. He pulsed himself in and out in short little strokes before pulling out again.

  “Yes. I really, really think so,” I said, breathing fast as I anticipated his next move. I squirmed with anticipation, making myself mad with the not-knowing. Would this be it? Would this be the time he went in all the way, deep?

  “Yesssss…,” I hissed out as he slowly buried his full length into me. It just kept going and going, making me think for a few crazy seconds that it wasn’t going to stop. I put my hands on his ass and pushed him in as far as he’d go, grinding myself into his lower abdomen and crying out with the sensations it created. Moving my hips in circles and bucking against him while he was buried inside me was what did it; it’s what started me on the road to nowhere and everywhere all at once.

  He drew himself out with agonizing slowness and then began the tortue all over again, burying himself to the hilt and pausing for several seconds before pulling out again in a dizzying stroke of pure sex, pure animal need. Over and over, I pushed against him while pulling his rear end down, forcing him to go deep, to increase his rhythm and give me the friction I needed.

  “You’re going to make me come if you keep doing that,” he said, gritting his teeth with the effort of holding back. “Holy sh … God, that feels so good.” He finished sentence almost out of breath. “How are you doing that?”

  I had no idea what he was talking about. All I knew was that a monster tidal wave of an orgasm was headed my way, and I was fully prepared and looking forward to drowning in it. The alcohol should have made this impossible; it should have made me insensitive and numb, but it seemed to be having the opposite effect. Or maybe it was just him. I’d never been with a man so amazingly sexy in all my life.

  His strokes came harder and stayed deeper. My sensitive nub took the pounding of his body with pleasure. I welcomed it, meeting his every thrust with one of my own. Our rhythm was wild, untamed, raw … a completely new experience in my carefully scripted life. His grunts and gasps of barely controlled excitement mirrored my own rising tide of passion.

  “Oh, fuck, I’m going to come,” he said, sounding angry and carried away by his lack of control.

  It was a combination of his loss of control and the sensation of being filled with him that did it to me. The sensations that had been building rushed me all at once, taking me completely by surprise. I started yelling, crying, and gasping, with zero control over what my body was doing. I dug my fingernails into his back, not paying attention to what I was doing to his skin. I just didn’t want to fall into the dark abyss that was calling out to me, worrying that once I was there, I’d never be able to get back. Mack would keep me safe.
He’d keep me from drowning.

  And then, when he shouted loudly and pushed into me with several short, sharp strokes, I fell; I fell into the velvet darkness that was swirling around inside my head. The sensation was entirely welcome. With this man filling me and pleasing me with every inch of his body, I had no other option.

  Time stood still as we took the thrilling ride to the very top and then coasted down to earth again. The clock only began to tick again when our orgasms had totally played out.

  Our bodies had melded together; I could feel every inch of him, even as he lost some of his hardness. He collapsed on top of me and rested his face on the pillow next to my head.

  “Are you okay?” he whispered, the small wisp of his breath tickling my ear.

  I nodded, not trusting my voice to work properly yet.

  He pushed into me just a little.

  I yelped with the shock that went through me.

  He chuckled. “A little sensitive?”

  “A little,” I admitted, wondering if I should be ashamed about anything I’d done. I didn’t think so. Anything that felt this good couldn’t possibly be wrong.

  Weird feelings rose up to smother me. My life plan felt really, really stupid and empty. This man would never fit into it, but now I wondered how I could ever go back to guys like Luke when I knew they could never make me feel this way.

  Feeling his heavy body on mine, wallowing in the afterglow of the best sex I’d ever had, I questioned for the first time what the hell I was doing with my life. I tried to laugh at myself, having these thoughts during a one-night stand in Vegas, but the humor wouldn’t come. This was real. This connection with this cowboy wasn’t just a thing.

  “What are you thinking right now?” he asked, sliding off to the side of me, his mostly limp cock sliding out of me and resting damply on my leg. He pulled the used condom off and put it on a piece of paper on the nightstand.

  “Nothing. My brain isn’t working yet.” Hell-to-the no way was I going to tell him what was on my mind. He’d run for the hills and I’d never see him. Do I want to see him again? Yes. I think I do. No, I know I do.

  “You’re lying,” he said, running a finger gently from my forehead to the end of my nose. “I can tell by the way you wrinkle up your little nose that you’re lying. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  “Oh, so I’m Pinnocchio now?” I tried to play it off, distract him from trying to get inside my head, but he wasn’t falling for it.

  “Please tell me.”

  He sounded so sincere, it made my heart skip a beat. How could a guy that good in bed and this gorgeous be so nice? Doesn’t it defy the very laws of Nature? Maybe he was an evolutionary mutant. I turned my head, our faces only an inch or two apart. “Why do you want to know?”

  “Because. I’m thinking lots of stuff too, and I’m wondering if you’re thinking the same thing.”

  “You go first,” I said, my heart picking up its rhythm for some stupid reason. No way were we thinking the same thing. But wouldn’t it be cool if we were?

  “Luceo non uro,” he said. “That’s what my dad always said.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked, pretty sure that even though I was still pretty drunk, he wasn’t speaking English.

  “It means that if I want to get lucky with you, I should just take the risk and tell you what’s on my mind, because failing would be worse than never trying.”

  I grinned. “I’m pretty sure you already got lucky, but if you’re looking for kinky sex, you’re going to have to work to convince me it’s a good idea.” For him, I was pretty sure I’d do anything, but there was no way I was going to make it that easy by just telling him.

  “It’s not about the sex,” he said, going all sober on me. “Well, okay, the sex might have been a little icing on the cake, but that’s not it.”

  “You’re being very mysterious,” I said, now nervous as hell. I really liked this cowboy. Mack. But I didn’t know a single thing about him other than the fact that he doesn’t wear underwear and he’s got a big cock-a-doodle doo that he definitely knows how to use. Yee haw.

  “I don’t mean to be mysterious. I guess I’m not as bold as I’d like to be sometimes. Thing is …” He paused and then rolled onto his back, resting his hands under his head. “…I have something on my mind, and I want to say it to you, even though I know it probably won’t make a difference and I’ll probably never see you again.”

  The idea that we’d never be together again made me literally sick to my stomach, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t the alcohol, even though the bed was spinning with its effects. Really, really spinning.

  “Just say it,” I urged, my words slurring a little. “You go first and then I’ll go.”

  “Chicken,” he teased, easing his arm under my neck.

  “Guilty.” I nestled in close to him, turning on my side so I could rest my head on his chest. I knew it was stupid, but in that moment, I felt cared for. Something I’d never truly experienced with the man I’d so recently wanted to call Husband. This was a very sad state of affairs, indeed. I was falling in lust with a man from Oregon, and I lived on the opposite end of the country. Our situation couldn’t possibly be more complicated.

  “Okay, well, here it goes. And if you want me to leave after I say it, then so be it. I’d rather say it and take the walk of shame than not say it and miss out on something.”

  “Alright already, say it.” I faked a loud yawn. “I’m about to fall asleep over here.”

  He tickled my ribs with his free hand. “You’re ornery. I like that about you.” He leaned over and kissed my neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. I probably should have been mad, but when my nipples went rock hard over the sensation it created, I had the opposite emotion coming over me.

  He left my neck and laid back down. “What I have going through my mind is that I don’t want this to end. There’s something about you that’s just lassoed my heart or my common sense or something and I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to get it back until you let it go.”

  My heart seized in my chest. The beats just wouldn’t come. And then I gasped, the need for oxygen too overwhelming. I’d been holding my breath without realizing it. “Really?” I croaked out. No one had ever said anything even remotely similar to me before. Even men who’d claimed to love me.

  “Really. Does that make you want to run to Mexico?”

  “Mexico?” I giggled.

  “That’s the farthest place from here I could come up with. Give me a few more minutes to sober up and I’ll come up with something better.”

  I put my elbow up and rested my head on my palm. “Maybe it’s just the beer talking. Maybe I’m not as awesome as you think I am in the sober light of day.”

  He pulled me against him and kissed me soundly. “No. It’s not the beer. I might be a little out of it, but that doesn’t make me deaf, dumb, or blind. You’re something special. Didn’t you feel it? The way we fit together so perfectly?” The expression on his face was vulnerable. Like this was important to him.

  “Yes,” I whispered, so thrilled to be hearing these things come out of his mouth that I couldn’t speak properly. I couldn’t even think straight. Bells were clanging and alarms were going off in my brain. He likes me! A lot! He really likes me! And he’s hung like a horse!

  “I’ll tell you what …,” he said, pulling me on top of him, “…right now I want to do two things with you, but I can’t decide which one to do first.” He grinned up at me mischievously, my hair hanging down to create a curtain around us.

  “What? Anal sex?” I asked.

  He laughed loud and long. Then he spanked me on both cheeks before rubbing them and squeezing them gently. He pushed his hips up towards me, causing his semi-hardness to push into my folds. “No, you crazy girl, that’s not what I was thinking. I’ll take a raincheck on that, though.” The dimple in his cheek came out for the first time since we played blackjack.

  “Okay, so what were you thinking, then,
if it wasn’t the booty love?” I rubbed myself just slightly along his length and was surprised to find that the idea of another round of sex so soon wasn’t entirely unpleasant. In fact, it was quite the opposite. He got harder with every passing second.

  He reached down between us and angled his erection up, the tip teasing at my lower stomach. He said nothing; he just waited to see what I would do.

  I positioned myself over him. Moving my hips in small circles, I eased the head of his cock into my warmth. I came down slowly, pushing past the opening to take him all the way in. I only stopped when I was fully impaled, his head pressing against the end of the road.

  “Damn, girl,” was all he could manage. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes as his hips moved in a rhythm that instantly threw all ideas of conversation out the window.

  I was still sensitive and swollen from our last session, so it didn’t take long for me to get close to orgasm. But the sensations were different this time. Sharp. Wild. A lot out of control. I needed speed and pounding, not soft and gentle strokes. I moved up and down his length, landing hard to give my body the ache it desired.

  He met me thrust for thrust, his erection so firm it felt like steel. I screamed out a few times in my frustration, not able to get what I was seeking. Something … something … I didn’t know what. It stayed just out of my grasp. I needed it but I didn’t know what It was.

  He growled once loudly and sat up, flipping me over onto my back on one smooth movement. Then he pulled out of me and turned me onto my stomach. “Put your ass in the air,” he ordered, grabbing me under my hips and jerking my rear end up.

  I complied without a sound. I wanted this. This was It.

  He pulled my folds apart with his thumbs and buried himself in me once again. Scooting his bent knees in slightly under me, he used the top of my thighs for leverage as he pounded into me, heaving my body into the pillows at the head of the bed with every thrust.