by Jordan Blake
11
Drew
“Hey, stranger.”
I’d know that sexy voice anywhere—sweet with just a hint of sassiness thrown in for spice. I looked up into that impossibly gorgeous face and smiled. “Hey.”
She raised an eyebrow as she shrugged her messenger bag higher up on her shoulder and gave my shin a playful nudge with her foot. “Long time no see. Or talk. Or text.”
That pulled a rueful chuckle from me. Yeah. I was an asshole. I’d hoped that maybe, somehow, some way she hadn’t noticed. But I should have known she was too savvy for that. “Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that. It was a dick move.”
She smiled, and damn, her lips looked soft and inviting. “You’ll get no argument from me on that one, Mr. Sheffield.”
Motherfucker, was she trying to get me arrested? Because I was pretty sure the giant boner that was in the process of developing at her words wasn’t something that would fall under the category of decent exposure.
“Is there somewhere we can talk?”
She nodded. “We can go to my room. We won't be interrupted.”
“You don't have a roommate?”
That got a smirk. “I do. I was with her when I spotted you. She agreed to make herself scarce.”
I grinned. “Is that because you plan to fuck me or plan to yell at me?”
She threw her head back and laughed, and it was just about the most beautiful thing I'd ever heard. “Who says it can’t be a little of both?”
I think the sparkle in her eyes as she teased me was even hotter than her body, if that was possible. She climbed the short set of porch stairs I was sitting on and took my hand as I rose to follow her.
She let go to dig in her bag for her key, unlocked her door, and stepped into the room. I followed her in and looked around the room, soaking in the details. This was where she lived—where she studied, slept, ate, watched movies, hung out with her roommate.
My brain started conjuring up hotter images of her here—walking into the room with wet hair dripping down her back, wrapped only in a tiny white towel. Standing in front of her closet as she stripped off her t-shirt and jeans to decide what to wear for an evening out. My breath started to come faster as the pictures scrolled through my mind.
The room itself was unintentionally sexy—the epitome of a girls’ college dorm room, with movie and music posters on the wall and clothes and books strewn everywhere. Damn. It couldn’t have been more different than her pink, frilly bedroom at home, and yet they were both equally sexy and fantasy-inducing in their own way.
God, it was like this incredibly hot girl lived in one porn set at home and another one at school, and she probably wasn’t even aware of it.
As my eyes finished their short trip around the tiny room and landed on her, I was shocked to see that one of the fantasy images that had just flashed in my mind was actually taking place right in front of my eyes. In the short time we’d been in the room, she had taken off her shoes and the oversized sweatshirt she’d been wearing. I watched in silence as she unbuckled her jeans and stripped them off. She tossed them carelessly over the back of her desk chair.
She turned toward me, her hands on her hips. She had on bright green and pink neon panties, the kind that rode low on her hips and went a little way down her thigh. They were fucking adorable. On top, she wore a stretchy cotton tank top that cut off halfway down her torso. It was the same shade of neon green as the stripes in her panties. Between the bottom of the tank top and the top of the panties was a wide expanse of exposed skin. Her taut, flat belly was smooth and endless, with just a faint red impression where the waistband of her jeans had pressed against her skin.
Fuck. This was what she looked like on a normal day. Not the schoolgirl fantasy that she’d consciously prepared to seduce me last weekend, but the everyday Dakota after she got undressed. Again…fuck. Of the two, this was hotter by a goddamn mile. If what she’d worn last weekend was a house fire, this was a nuclear fucking explosion.
I cleared my throat. “I thought you were going to yell at me.”
She shrugged. “There’ll be enough time for that later. I thought maybe you could fuck me first.”
I laughed. Her bluntness took me surprise. I was still getting used to this version of her—this confident, sexual young woman. Not the shy young thing I’d known for years.
“If that works with your schedule, I mean…” she teased.
I lowered my voice and stepped closer to her, encircling her small waist with my strong hands. “I think I can fit it in.”
Her eyes widened at the double entendre, and then she scrunched up her face in an exaggerated expression, clearly going along with the joke. “I don’t know,” she said, playing up the concern in her voice while making it higher and breathier. “It’s pretty big. Do you think it’ll fit, Mister Sheffield? I’m gonna have to be pretty wet first.”
I yanked her to me roughly, causing her eyes to widen for real, and dug my fingers into her skin. Not enough to hurt, but enough to let her know I meant business. Her breathing sped up, and I could see the pulse in her neck start pounding wildly. Goddamn, this girl loved it when I took control and I loved seeing her primal response to it.
I leaned down to her ear and growled, “Well, that shouldn’t be a problem, should it? Because you’re gonna get wet for me. You’re gonna get soaking wet. Right?”
She nodded against my chest.
“Good girl,” I rasped. “In fact…I think maybe…”
I slid my hands down into her panties, sliding in between her silken folds and drawing a gasp from her. Just as abruptly, I pulled my fingers out and raised them to her lips.
“Yep. That’s what I thought,” I breathed. “You’re already wet as hell.” I slid my fingers into her mouth. “Taste yourself,” I commanded. “Taste how wet you are. Taste how turned on I make you.”
She licked my fingers off obediently, and I groaned. My cock was harder than I could remember it ever being. “When did you get wet? Was it when you took off your pants?”
She shook her head.
“Before that?”
She nodded against me. Her breathing had turned to shallow pants now.
“When we came in the room?’
She shook her head.
“Before that?”
Another nod.
“When? Tell me.”
She drew in breath to speak and looked up at me, but then her cheeks reddened prettily and her hands flew up to cover her face.
“You’re embarrassed?” I asked, letting a little teasing incredulity color my voice. “This is the same girl who just suggested I should fuck her in a tone of voice someone might use to say which movie they want to see? That girl is embarrassed to tell me when she got wet?”
“Yes,” came the muffled reply.
Oh God, this was the good part. This was when I was going to get to push her past a boundary, widen her horizons, and watch her face—look into her eyes—and see how much that turned her on. It was fucking magic.
I pulled her hands gently from her face then took her chin firmly in my hand and tilted up until I was looking right into those deep chocolate eyes. “Tell me.” I made my voice commanding and authoritative and then reveled in the way her muscles quivered and melted as arousal shot through them at my tone. “Tell me right now. When did I make you wet?"
In a small, tremulous voice, she replied, “When I saw you…sitting on the steps. I pretty much creamed my jeans in a fraction of a second.”
I smiled and let go of her chin, moving my hand down to cup her breast. She deserved a treat. “Good,” I whispered as I flicked her nipple through her tank top. “That’s a good girl. I want you to get wet the minute you see me. I want your body to react to me. Just like mine reacts to you.”
“Does it?”
I moved her hand down to my throbbing cock to prove it. She let out a sigh and started rubbing it, up and down, through my pants. I groaned. Fuck, it was torture.
“Turn around,�
� I ordered. Again her eyes widened. Shit. Was she doing that on purpose just to get me hot? Because it was working.
“Why?” her voice was breathless.
“Because I’m going to fuck you. Hard.”
12
Dakota
I was absolutely breathless. When Drew took on that commanding tone, it didn't just affect his voice — it affected his entire body. It rolled off of him in waves. And we had that in common. It affected my entire body, as well, turning me tingly and making my muscles into trembling jelly.
I spun around as he’d said to do, every nerve-ending alive with anticipation of what his next move would be. When would his next instruction come, and what would he be ordering me to do?
However, his next directive didn't come in the form of a command. Rather, it came in the form of his strong palm on the back of my shoulders pushing me down toward the bed. I gasped in surprise and pleasure. It was so fast — one moment I had been standing upright and the next I was bent over the bed, my ass in the air, my cheek pressed to the rough comforter.
He yanked my panties down roughly, but instead of pulling them all the way to my ankles so I could step out of them, he left them around my upper thighs. I heard the buckle of his belt, the shuffle of his pants and boxer shorts being pushed down, and the condom packet ripping.
As I tracked the progress of his own undressing based on the sounds I was hearing, the eroticism of it was increased tenfold because of the fact that the entire time he was undressing, I was naked from the waist down, exposed to the air and to his eyes, my wet pussy glistening and exposed. I felt vulnerable, but also strangely powerful.
Maybe because of the fact that I could feel his eyes so strongly on the wet seam of my sex, I fully expected the next physical sensation of him I felt to be either his fingers or his tongue covering and claiming it. But again, he subverted my expectations.
God, there were so many genuinely and powerfully sexy things about Drew Sheffield, but if I had to narrow it down to just one thing, it would have to be his commanding and authoritative air. When combined with his creativity, it pushed me to unquestioningly do things that I never would've thought of. The way he kept me on my toes and continually surprised me, pushed me past wherever I thought I wanted to go, made me so hot. Every time he did, I found that outside my comfort zone was where real pleasure was.
His strong fingers dug into my hips. This was not a soft caress. This was a claiming, possessive grip. Not hesitant in the least. Decisive.
He drove into me, a powerful thrust, stretching me out with his thick cock. Fuck. He didn’t pause to position himself. He didn’t hold still while inside me and get things going with a slow rhythm. No. He just pounded me. And it was fucking amazing.
And at the same time that he was pushing his dick hard into me time after time, he was jerking my hips back toward him in rhythm and then pushing them away as he thrust out.
A thought flashed into my brain. You're like his human Fleshlight right now. He’s just indiscriminately using your body for pleasure.
That thought didn’t upset me, though, like it might have out of context. In the moment, it was hot as fuck. It made my head spin with arousal. As he drove into me again and again, it was the mindless animal quality of it that I found more erotic than anything else.
And that was it. I had put my finger on it. We were more animals than human in that moment. We weren't making love, we weren't even fucking — it was more like rutting, and it was fan-fucking-tastic.
I heard his voice from behind and above me, strangled as if he could barely get the words out around the fist of arousal the gripped his vocal cords. "God, Dakota, you're so tight. Fuck. So tight. That sweet young pussy."
Mmmm, those words. They shot through me, making my skin sizzle, my nipples harden, my core tighten even further. God, this man. Was that a part of what Annie had referred to as soul-fucking? That his words were able to turn me on just as much, if not more, as his body was? That I was every bit as aroused by his brain as I was by his magnificent cock?
One of his hands left its grip on my hip, leaving the other to do the job alone of slamming me against him again and again. His free hand traveled up my back over the fabric of my tank top and tangled in my hair.
God, I had actually forgotten that I still had my tank top on. Somehow, being fucked with my tank top still covering me down to my waist, my underwear still around my thighs, felt even dirtier, naughtier than if I had completely undressed. I felt even more exposed than if I was completely naked. It spoke to the urgency that we had gone into this encounter with. How badly he needed to be inside of me right then. The loss of inhibition.
Then suddenly, his thrusts became even more powerful, something I wouldn’t have thought was possible. His hand around my hip clamped down, and his fingers that were woven into my hair tightened into a fist, pulling my head back a bit.
I had read about and heard about guys pulling girls' hair during sex, and I pictured it completely wrong — like some little bully yanking on a schoolgirl’s braids. I couldn't imagine how that could possibly feel good. But this? Oh, God. This was magical. Wonderful. Insanely erotic. Oh, God…oh, God…ohhhh…God!
I came apart there on the bed, every nerve-ending in my body exploding, every muscle tensing and trembling. I balled the comforter under my palms into fists. I dragged it to my mouth and shoved it inside to muffle the scream tearing from me.
When the freight train of my orgasm had passed by, I glanced back up over my shoulder at him.
"Did… did you come?" I panted.
He shook his head, a small smile on his face. My eyebrows drew together. I didn't see how not coming could be cause for smiling.
"Why not?" I asked.
He leaned down and spoke softly in that commanding tone that never failed to make me wet, even when I was already dripping. "Because I’m going to come on your sweet, perky tits."
Oh my…YES! Just when I thought he couldn’t get hotter, he’d outdone himself again.
“Take off your tank top and panties and lay on your back with your legs spread apart.”
He didn't have to tell me twice. I scrambled up on the bed, slid my panties the rest of the way down my legs and yanked my tank top off. I settled back on the pillows and let my knees fall open as I waited with bated breath at what he was going to do next.
His eyes darkened as he pushed his pants and boxers off and stripped of his t-shirt, tossed the condom on the nightstand then climbed onto the bed and knelt next to me. My dorm room single was so small that there was barely enough room for the two of us.
“Touch me.”
My entire body trembled at his provocative request. I lifted up on my elbow, angling toward him a little bit. It was the closest that I had ever seen his beautiful dick, and I was about to do something I had been dreaming of for so long.
Lifting my hand, I ran my palm up and down his shaft. I gripped his dick in my slender fingers and began to pump him with my hand.
He inhaled sharply. “Good girl. Now keep stroking me and open your mouth, wrap your pretty mouth around my cock, suck me and lick me.”
His instructions were a potent aphrodisiac and I shuddered with arousal as I did as he directed. I slipped my lips over his engorged head and swirled my tongue around while continuing to move my hand up and down his shaft.
“Deeper,” he growled and I felt my pussy clench.
I slid my mouth further over him, engulfing as much of him as I could. His cock was so thick that it was actually difficult to wrap my lips all the way around it and still keep them tight enough to maintain suction. I smiled a little to myself. That was something I was sure I would get better at with practice.
I moved my head up and down, looking up into his eyes as I did. His hands were both tightly fisted in my hair now, and I loved the way that felt, like he owned to me, like he controlled every movement.
Suddenly, he let go of my hair and planted both hands firmly on my shoulders, shoving me hard back on
to the pillows. He grabbed his own cock and rubbed it briskly, bringing to mind that first night that I'd watched him through the window as he jerked off.
He aimed his magnificent dick right at my tits and shot sweet, warm cum all over them. I couldn't take my eyes away from his abs as they convulsed with his orgasm, or his face as it contorted, or his dick as it shot ropey white explosions onto me. It was the hottest thing I'd ever seen, and it was happening to me.
I waited for his eyes to open and be on my body again, and then I rubbed his cum into my breasts like lotion.
"God, you're so amazing," he breathed as he ran his fingers through his hair and set back on his heels. "How the fuck did I get so lucky?"
I laughed as I jumped up. "Being ridiculously hot doesn’t hurt," I teased him as I walked over to the closet and pulled out my bathrobe. But I knew it was more than that. And it scared me. I wasn’t just attracted to Drew. I felt things when I was with him. Real things. Things that I’d been making myself crazy thinking about all week.
Being with him like this was incredible, but it was also overwhelming. And scary. It made me want things that I shouldn’t. Things I was too young to be dreaming about. But I wasn’t ready for him to leave yet. Which meant we needed to get out of here.
I slid my arms into the sleeves of my robe and wrapped it around my waist.
His brow drew together. "Where are you going?"
"Well," I said, "I’m starving and I have no food. So you are going to take me out."
"Okay. I could eat.”
Him naked on my bed was too much for me to take. He should look out of place in my tiny dorm room. Instead he just felt like home. I shook my head slightly and turned to try and shake off the images that were starting to crowd my brain of fantasies of the very domestic nature.
I hadn’t even made it two steps before he was on his feet and his arms were wrapped around my waist as he pulled me roughly against him. I tried to fight how it felt to be in his arms. How safe. How protected. How right.
