by Brill Harper
She glances down, her eyebrows raise and her eyes widen as she sees the aroused state of her tits, and she crosses her arms over them. “And you think if I do the act with you, I will reach orgasm.”
“I think if we fuck, you’re going to forget your own name. Several times. Yes, you will come. Hard and often.” In many positions. “You might even require hospitalization from coming so many times.”
“You’re being so lewd. I don’t know how to respond to that. Nobody has ever talked to me or around me the way you do.” I’m going to assume she doesn’t know that the way she is biting her lip is a turn-on. At this point, she could probably cross her eyes and I’d think it was sexy.
But she doesn’t understand that. Not yet. Richard really did a number on her. Whatever happens or doesn’t happen with our bar, when she leaves this town, I intend to make sure she goes no longer doubting herself. I step further into her space, but give her room to back up if she wants. Instead, she traces a bead of water with her eyes as it travels to my collarbone. “Baby, sex is supposed to be lewd.”
“I can’t think when you use that voice,” she says in a voice so soft it could be a whisper.
Perfect. I lower it even more. “Sex is supposed to be dirty and messy and uncivilized. That’s part of what makes it great.”
“What else makes it great?”
“Coming hard and often.” She’s intrigued. I can tell. “You're not going to let him win, are you?”
She inhales sharply. “What?”
“Didn’t that flea take enough from you? He played you, yes. But are you going to let him keep doing it? Show him he didn’t win. Use me for my body and show him.”
“Use you.” Her eyes narrow. “This is a dare? Do you honestly think you can dare me into your bed?”
“Yes, I honestly do.”
Her chin goes down and she stares at her feet. “He told me that I was frigid. That it was all right with him. That it didn’t matter. That sex wasn’t the most important thing in a relationship,” she confesses.
Jesus Christ. “I want five minutes alone with the guy. I swear to God, just five minutes.” I take a deep breath. This stopped being a game the minute she said frigid. “Do you believe him?”
“I did,” she answers, her voice mousier than I’ve ever heard it.
“Do you still?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s a lie. But we can work with it. If you don’t know, what do you think the best way to find out is?”
“You think your penis has some kind of magical powers, and I’m just going to instantly thaw from its majestic abilities?”
“You can tell me how magical I am when we’re through.”
She rolls her eyes.
“And while I think you’ll find my penis spectacular, maybe even majestic, I don’t think you should count my hands and mouth out of the deal.”
Now she’s looking anywhere but at me.
“You’re not frigid. I promise.”
“It wouldn’t mean anything. If we do this. It won’t make me change my mind about the bar, so if you think you’re going to seduce and con me—”
“Don’t. Compare. Me. To. Him.”
“Fine.” She throws her arms open wide. “Seduce me,” she says with all the enthusiasm of someone who just wants to stop arguing. She’s not convinced, but I’ve got all night.
“You really don’t think this is going to work, do you? You don’t think I can make you come?” I step toward her again since she didn’t bolt before, backing her into the wall. I kiss her neck, my mouth hot and teasing, and she closes her eyes. “I should tell you something first,” I say, inhaling that tender spot behind her neck.
“Tell me what?” She’s trying to sound reserved, so cool. There’s nothing frigid about this woman. She just doesn’t believe it yet.
“I have a favorite sex act. It’s almost a fetish.” She stiffens, either my words or the way I nibble her earlobe has caught her off guard. “Do you want to hear what it is?”
“No,” she whispers.
“I think you do. I think you want to know that what I love more than anything is going down on a woman. I can do it for hours. I love eating pussy, Tru. I’m going to love eating your pussy.”
I pull back and watch her face. She still looks shy and timid, looking up at me with wide eyes as my dirty words sink in to her thoughts and my big hands pull loose the row of buttons of her pajama shirt. I part the fabric and drag my fingers across her smooth skin, her soft rounded stomach. So sweet. Hooking my hands in the waistband of her pants and panties at the same time, I pull them down.
“Step out.” She does as she’s told, her eyes on my face.
“Yeah...that's it, pretty girl.” I trace a finger between her generous breasts, the towel riding precariously low on my waist as I get harder and harder. I catch her gaze, wondering what she’s thinking when my hand moves lower, circling the hollow of her navel. She sucks in a quick breath and nibbles her bottom lip.
I trace a slow finger back up and around each of her rosy, dusky nipples slowly, so slowly. The hard little points could cut glass. “You’re so beautiful. Perfect.”
“I can't believe this is happening.”
“Believe it, Gertrude.” That lightens the mood until I slide my hand down, rubbing gently at her slippery cleft. Her eyes look where I’m touching her, watching me stroke her most private place. “You’re so wet for me already.” I cup her chin in my other hand and lean down. I kiss her warm mouth, groaning when she opens immediately this time. I stroke her candy-sweet tongue against mine, kissing deeper, harder. She’s delicious. “I’m going to make you come on my hand now.”
I start with a slow, gentle rub, circling around her clit, adding pressure until her breathing changes. An urgent ache takes root deep in my belly, but this is for Tru. My own needs are going to have to wait. “That feel good?”
“It feels fine.”
“Fine, really?” Her eyes are glassy, her heated pussy swollen and soaking my fingers, and she says fine. I whisper near the hollow of her ear, “Liar.”
I keep my hand in her pussy, still slow and gentle, but I give in to the temptation of these tits, using my tongue until I can’t stand it anymore and take a long, hot pull of one, sucking and moaning around it until she groans and trembles. She’s fucking close. Frigid must mean something different to Richard than it does to me. I’ve barely gotten started and she’s on the edge.
“I feel...”
“What, sweetheart? What do you feel?”
“So hot, so lightheaded...so needy. I need...oh.” She makes the most erotic sound I’ve ever heard in my life and her hips start pumping against my hand.
“That’s it, pretty girl. Let it go. Let it all go.”
She’s beautiful as she comes. The look of surprise mixing with hazy pleasure. I let her come back to earth before I slide down to my knees and kneel between her legs, ready to worship her like the goddess she is right now. I want inside her, more than I’ve ever wanted anything my whole life. But I make a promise, in a dark, husky voice I barely recognize as my own. “You’re going to come on my tongue next.” She squirms a bit. “Don’t be shy now.” I give her one long, slow lick. “You taste so sweet.”
“I do?”
The note of disbelief in her quiet voice pisses me off. “Don’t tell me he never...never mind. Of course he didn’t. You are delicious.” I press my tongue inside her until she’s squirming with a different purpose this time. To get more of my mouth on her. “Mmmm.” I moan into that honey-sweet pussy. Richard’s loss is my gain.
I pull my mouth away and her hips rock toward me like she didn’t mean them to. “Easy now. I just want to look at you.” I use my thumbs to spread that pink, swollen flesh. “So pretty.” That clit calls me and I suck at it, long and deep. The taste of her jolts all my senses and ignites a devouring hunger I’ve never felt before. I want to gorge on her. The blood is pounding in my ears, and I rub my face all around her mound, her i
nner thighs, wanting to drown in her juices. Coat myself in them.
She cries out my name and it spurs me into overdrive. I’m desperate for more—more of her scent, more of her taste, more of her feminine moans. I hike one of her legs over my shoulder, and she lets out a surprised gasp when I bury my face inside her. I alternate swirling my tongue over her clit and fucking her with it as deep as I can go. I can’t get enough of her. My hungry rhythm soon has us both moaning. She buries her fingers in my hair until I feel her let loose, feeling the waves of her pleasure as she bucks hard into my mouth. I lick her through the orgasm, her sweet, creamy juices trickling down over my chin.
I want more, but her legs are trembling, and I need to get her onto my bed. I French kiss her pussy again, slowing as she pants hotly and quakes in full-body tremors. When I stand, her expression is dazed, not yet back from her trip.
I scoop her up, the towel finally losing its battle and rolling off my body as I stalk into my bedroom.
“Nash?”
“I’m going to fuck you now.”
“Oh.” She blinks rapidly.
“Is that okay?”
“Am I going to enjoy it as much as what you just did?”
“You’re going to write sonnets about my dick, Gertrude.”
“Well, then let’s keep going.”
She feels so good in my arms. I don’t think I’ve ever carried a naked woman anywhere before and it’s amazing. Like being a caveman.
And being a caveman comes with some other feelings I’ve never experienced before. The fact that I want to mark her and claim her as mine is new.
Tru
THE TRIP FROM THE WALL to the bed is a blur. He throws me onto his mattress, but his hand behind my head protects me from hitting. There aren’t any more teasing words, this man is different from the one who goads me into getting flustered. I haven’t even had a chance to see him without the towel, but he doesn’t slow for me to peruse his now naked body. With singular intensity, he lowers his head and sucks at my center again, hard and vicious, his fingers dancing inside me, stroking. I’m overcome with new emotions that I don’t understand. Dark ones. Feral ones. His fingers pump me, and I gasp, urging him on. I reach for my own breast and squeeze as his slippery lips almost pinch at my clit. When he sees me touching myself, his eyes go even darker.
He works my flesh harder now, pulling and pushing, nipping and stroking. He’s so rough, earthy, so unlike the civilized experiences I’ve had in the past. I never thought I would like it, but I do. I love it. I need it. One nip is more a bite and I squeal in pleasure, knowing it will leave a mark on my thigh. I squeeze my breasts harder and he growls, lavishing more delicious abuse, snarling like an animal, holding my hips tight until he’s had his fill.
I lose track of the world as a powerful orgasm sweeps through me, but he doesn’t let up. I’m helpless in his grasp, shaking and crying as sparks of pleasure so intense they border on pain ravage my quaking limbs.
He climbs up my body, his smile predatory as he rolls a condom onto his rigid cock and settles himself between my spread legs. “Such a messy girl. So wet.” He grips my leg and nudges part of his cock-head into me, easing his weight over me deliciously, squeezing me apart as he pushes in.
I tense. He’s so much bigger than what I’m used to.
“Easy, honey.” The deep tone of his voice soothes me, relaxing my body, and he pushes in a bit harder, working himself slowly into me. “So tight. So wet for me.”
I’m full of him, almost uncomfortably so. With the fullness comes another ache, a wanting, a feeling that this is something I am meant for. Taking this man into my body. He grasps my forearms and pins them down with his full weight. I really am helpless now. Thrillingly so. I close my eyes and moan.
He rocks gently, swaying inside me, until I start to rock my hips with him, finding a rhythm. Joining him where I once would lie still and let it happen. When I open my eyes, he moans as if the eye contact is an erotic shock. “You drive me wild, Tru. It’s like you’re inside of me even though I’m the one inside of you.”
I’m not prepared for him to say such a thing. It’s like a confession, an intimacy that goes beyond what our bodies are doing. Nash starts a steady, shallow slide, and the pleasure grows hotter and hotter inside me. I surely can’t orgasm again, can I? I wrap my legs around him, my heels digging into his body for leverage.
“Yeah, that's it. Fuck me back, honey. Work my cock. You make me feel like a fucking beast.” His head dips and his breath falls across my chest in bellows. We’re reaching for something bigger than we are, the building of ecstasy surging through both of us.
He presses his forehead against mine, falling back to a slow, gentle rhythm, not wanting to rush us even though I feel like I’ll die if I don’t come again. We look at each other for a long moment, breathing through the awareness. Capturing this moment.
“Nash, I love the way you feel inside me. I can feel you everywhere.”
He mutters something, sitting up on his knees and taking hold of my legs without slipping out. Slowly, smoothly, he pushes deeper inside me, deeper than I thought he could go. He’s holding my legs open obscenely and giving me long, slow strokes, over and over, pushing into me. “Your pussy is grabbing my cock. You must like this. Does your tight, little pussy like my cock, Tru? Watch me fuck you, honey.”
His cock, thick and wet, slides out from between my legs between the dark mess of my pubic hair. I can’t believe it’s me, so lewd and sloppy and wanting more. He pushes back in, vanishing into my dark curls.
The pleasure coils inside me, and I can’t stop the frantic bucking of my hips, the loud moans bellowing out of me. My legs lock behind him, working him into my body as far as he can go. He’s smiling down at me like the devil. Amused by me, by the things he’s making me feel. Fine. That’s fine. I like feeling this way. I want to push him just as far as I can. I pull his head down and whisper, “Fuck me.” Wiggling my hips and trying to use my inner muscles to squeeze him, I groan and say louder, “Please, fuck me, fuck me...”
Nash grabs my shoulders from underneath and bangs into me hard and fast like a man possessed, like my words pushed him over the edge. “Beg me some more, honey.”
“Please make me come, Nash. I need it. I need you. I need you to fuck me with that huge cock until I come.”
The pure masculine growl fills the room as he fucks me so hard I can’t breathe. The slap of our bodies, the sweat forming on our skin, the banging of the headboard on the wall—we’re both taken over by this savage lust as his big body moves over mine. My orgasm washes over me in long, crushing waves but Nash doesn’t stop moving. “Take me, take me, take all of me,” he yells until he stiffens. I feel him swell even bigger somehow, and then his body convulses as his hands tighten on me, squeezing me too hard. I love it. He groans into my neck, nearly sobbing my name as he comes, and I hold him as tight as I can, wishing there was no condom, wishing I could be sticky and covered and filled with his cum.
He stays there on top of me, gasping, slowly pulling and pushing his cock in and out of me, wringing out every last drop of our pleasure. He murmurs my name and rolls us over, still inside me, so that my face is on his chest.
My body is trembling with aftershocks. I am deliciously bruised and will be so sore tomorrow. “I’m not really frigid, am I?” I ask into the dark when my heart slows and breath returns to my lungs.
“No, Gertrude. I’m certain of it.”
I smile into his chest, lulled by his heartbeat. He takes care of the condom, brings me water, and slides into bed. I intend to go to my own room, but sleep steals my ambition.
When I wake up, it’s to Nash rearranging my limbs and trying to sneak out of bed without waking me up.
Chapter Seven
Nash
THE COMPLICATED MANEUVERS of getting out of bed without waking the other person up are completely new to me. I haven’t woken up with someone in my bed before. I don’t bring women to my bed. I only accept invitations t
o bed when my partner knows I’m not staying after.
It was a mistake to sleep with Tru. The sex was off the charts, but the post-cuddle should never have happened. She’s in a vulnerable place, and she’s going to equate orgasms with deeper meaning. If I’d have gently returned her to her own bed last night, she’d know where we stand, but no, I did everything exactly wrong and now I have to extricate myself from my own bed.
I manage to roll her over onto her own side in a move I’m ashamed to admit I learned from Chandler Bing. I’m moving as slowly and gently as I can when her voice stops me cold.
“Where are you going?”
I feel like I’m in the spotlight. Maybe not on stage, more like a police flashlight—caught red-handed. “Bathroom,” I manage.
“Then why are you sneaking out of bed?”
She props her chin on her hand and studies me, not saying a word.
“I’m not sneaking. It’s my house, my bed, and my bladder. If I want to go the bathroom, I don’t need to run it by you first.”
Her eyes widen in surprise and then she laughs. “You’re a little touchy. Usually you’re in a much better mood in the mornings.” She stretches indulgently, the sheets riding low enough for me to catch the tops of her rosy breasts.
Morning wood just became a fucking Redwood tree.
“I know I’m in a much better mood this morning.” Her sleepy eyes are heavily lidded and the smile on her face makes her look like a happy cat in the cream. Which makes me think of her creamy pussy, and how happy she made me last night. “I cannot believe I’ve been missing out on that for all these years. That was nothing like what I’ve experienced before.”
My chest fills with male pride knowing how satisfied I made her. “I told you Richard was bad in bed.”
What I don’t say is that last night wasn’t like anything I’ve ever experienced before, either. That I have a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t my performance that made it so great. I’d like to write it off on the delayed gratification of finally getting her into my bed after being attracted to her for weeks. Or the fact that I hadn’t gotten laid in a while.
