There’s no slow, soothing build up this time.
He responds fiercely, his tongue plundering my mouth and stealing my breath. A warning bell goes off in my head. He’s taking control. No. no. I’m in control, not him.
He lifts my hat off my head and tosses it onto one of the leather couches. He does the same with my sunglasses.
“Much better. Now I can really see you,” he says.
He slams me into the wall. He grabs my hands and yanks them up above my head, holding me captive as his mouth devours mine with an unrestrained animal passion.
I buck against him, trying to break his grip.
“Dan,” I gasp out, “Not like this.”
“Yes, angel. I’m in control,” he whispers in my ear, before licking his way down my neck, his tongue leaving a trail of warm, wet heat in its wake that sends a shiver of excitement all the way to my core.
Oh God. I can’t fight him on the control thing now. What he’s doing to me feels too damn good. I don’t want to stop him. I don’t want it to end.
“You taste amazing,” he breathes. “Like coconut.”
I want to tell him that it’s my body wash, but there isn’t time for thought right now, for explanations. I’m utterly consumed by him, by us. The intensity that we create together is out of this world. He rolls his hips, grinding against me as he reclaims my mouth in a bruising kiss that brands me with its smoldering heat. I can feel his hard length through his towel and my clothes.
Suddenly he releases my hands and his own slide under my sweater.
I gasp as his fingers trace a path up my stomach, all the way to my bra. He moans appreciatively as he brushes the black lace. He pushes up the cups and I cry out at the skin-to-skin contact. Both hands knead my breasts gently, but firmly. He has the perfect touch. Oh my God. His hands are rough and callused, which surprises me, because I’d had him pegged for a white collar desk guy, but clearly I don’t know the whole story as these belong to someone who works with his hands. The friction they create against my breasts is exquisite torture and as the pads of his thumbs graze my nipples, I’m completely gone. I’m his. I have only one thought: I need him even closer.
His hands leave me then, withdrawing from my sweater and I can’t help a whimper of protest at the awful loss of contact.
He chuckles, before he grips my thighs tightly, almost painfully. “Patience, angel.”
In the next moment, his hands are under my skirt, gliding up my thighs. I’m breathing in rapid bursts now, unable to contain myself as his fingers move closer and closer to my pussy. Yes, touch me!
He hooks his fingers into my panties and jerks them roughly down my legs.
He stops and lifts my right leg, pulling my boot off. He does the same with the left and then slides my panties all the way down to my ankles. I kick them off my feet.
I’m so caught up in this haze of sensation overload that I barely even register that he’s dropped to his knees until I feel his hot breath on my bare, shamefully exposed pussy.
His tongue delves between my folds and strokes me with one tantalizing slow lick along my slit, over my clit and back down again. Over and over again. I can hear myself screaming, feel my entire body vibrating with pleasure. His strokes change to quick, darting licks and my legs buckle. He chuckles against my pussy and grasps my hips, holding me steady against the wall with barely any effort. He circles my clit then, teasing me and then he slips a finger inside me.
“Oh…shit…yes!” I whimper, throwing my head back in rapture.
He struggles to add another finger, taking his time, working my pussy until he manages it.
“Fuck me, you’re tight.”
“Eighteen months,” I manage to respond.
He looks up at me, his eyes wide with disbelief as he pumps his fingers in and out of me in a scissoring motion that is both painful and deliciously pleasurable as he stretches me.
My revelation seems to spur him on and he withdraws his fingers. “That’s it. I can’t wait. I need to fuck you. Now,” he says, rising from his knees.
I am out of my mind, so lost in a reverie of pleasure that all I can do is nod.
The ferocious, primal look in his fiery eyes sends a thrill through me; a mixture of excitement and trepidation.
I’m vaguely aware of him tossing his towel away, but I don’t even get the chance to see his dick, before I feel it under my skirt, right at my entrance. He rubs it all over my pussy, coating himself in my juices. And then he buries himself inside me in one hard thrust.
I cry out in surprise.
Fuck. I can feel the burn. It’s been too long. How big is he? I feel like he’s ripping me apart, stretching my walls to their breaking point.
“Oh, fuck. Shit,” I choke out.
He reads me well and stills for a moment, allowing me to adjust to his size. “You’re way too tense. You need to relax.” He leans in and whispers seductively in my ear, “Relax for me, Emma. Let me take care of you.”
“It’s been…long,” I manage to eke out.
“I know, angel,” he says, kissing my forehead. “Let me in. Let me make you feel good.”
His left hand slips between us and he teases my clit. The pressure is intense and I’m already on the edge, so incredibly built up from having his tongue between my legs earlier, that I know I won’t last long.
“I’m gonna make you come so hard.”
“Yes,” I gasp.
“That’s it. Good girl.”
I’m finally relaxing. The burning subsides after a few moments and there’s just pleasure.
He feels it and then he really starts to move. He lets out a series of guttural, animalistic growls as he pounds into me with such ferocity that all I can do is take it as he slams me into the wall over and over again. I can’t move. I’m trapped by the force of his rapid, brutal thrusts.
And it’s absolutely amazing.
I’ve never been fucked like this before. Ever.
“Jesus Christ. The way your pussy grips my cock…fuck…I can’t hold it, babe,” he pants between thrusts as he continues to pound into me. “Come for me,” he commands. “Come for me now.”
The part of me that craves control wants to deny him and tell him that I’ll climax when I’m ready. But who am I kidding? I’m not in control of my own body right now.
He pinches my clit hard and I’m gone, free-falling over the edge into absolute, no-holds-barred ecstasy. I hear a ferocious scream and I realize it’s me. Fuck. My orgasm seems to last forever. My entire body is trembling, thrashing.
“Yes. Fuck, yes. Grip me, babe,” he grits out.
He curses wildly and calls out my name as he explodes spectacularly, coming deep inside me.
He slumps against me, his head buried in my shoulder as we both fight to catch our breath.
And then he suddenly jerks his head back.
The look on his face sends a painful ice-cold shiver through me and I suddenly realize what he’s going to say before he even has the chance to open his mouth.
Oh no. No, no, no. How could we have been so stupid?
I cry out as he pulls out of me too quickly and mutters, “Shit, I didn’t use a condom. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He eyes me and says, pleadingly, “Please tell me you’re on the pill.”
I grimace, shaking my head. It seems naïve and stupid now, but I’ve gone months without being with a man and I’d planned on keeping it that way, because of my issue. I just didn’t see him coming into the picture. Shit.
He must see through my bravado and know I’m freaking out just beneath the surface, because he cups my face in his hands and gives me a reassuring smile, as he says in a deadly serious tone, “Angel, I’m clean and I’ve always used a condom. Always. You’re the first…you’re the first time I’ve fucked up.”
Dazed, I can only nod.
He pulls away and snatches his towel up off the floor. Before I know what’s happening it’s between my legs and he’s wiping away his cum that’s already trickling down my le
gs. My breath catches in my throat at the unbelievably caring, tender gesture.
When he’s done, he balls up the towel and then kisses my forehead softly. “Go take a shower, angel. I need to make a call. I’ll take care of this, okay? Do you trust me?”
Although we haven’t known one another long at all, somehow I do. I really do trust him.
“Yes,” I croak.
He kisses me again, this time chastely on my lips and then he wraps his arm around me and leads me out of the living room and down the hall towards the bathroom.
Chapter 8
~Daniel~
“Morning-after pill,” J says, dropping a paper bag on the coffee table.
“Thanks,” I murmur, running my fingers through my hair and blowing out a breath.
“No problem. You’ve had my back with this shit several times before. Just returning the favor.”
I manage a faint smile of acknowledgment as I slump down heavily onto the couch.
J joins me, perching on the edge and regarding me worriedly. “You okay?” he asks, patting my shoulder.
“I fucked her without a condom, J,” I mumble, barely able to say the words.
“I picked up a 12-pack too, so that won’t be a problem now.”
“I’m not out. I just…it didn’t even enter my head.”
Instead of looking shocked and appalled, J just nods. “It happens, man.”
I shake my head. “Not to me. I’m always in control. You know me. I’m always fucking careful.”
Forget admitting it out loud. Admitting it to myself is bad enough. It’s a goddamn reflex. Sex equals condom. It’s never an afterthought, especially not for me, not after what Isabella put me through with that disgusting fake out pregnancy of hers. Manipulative bitch. I had been careful then, but from that day onward let’s just say that I had been extra careful.
But years of being responsible were just snuffed out as soon as I’d had Emma in my arms.
I’d like to tell myself that my major lapse in judgment and my subsequent insanity is a result of me not getting laid for a while. It’s been two weeks. It doesn’t sound like a long time, but it’s a fuck of a drought to me. You could say I like sex more than the average guy. I’m not an addict, but when I want it, I want it. There is no greater rush.
But I know that’s not the whole story. I completely lost control. I was out of my fucking mind with the taste of her, the feel of her, those little moans of pleasure she made. Fuck, that woman completely unmans me. She consumes me to the point where my brain stops functioning entirely, hence the condom incident I now find myself in. Shit. No one has ever had so much influence over me. No one.
“You didn’t go to the pharmacy in town, did you? It only took you ten minutes to get here.” I wasn’t expecting J to get here so quickly. I barely had time to pull on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before he buzzed up here.
He rolls his eyes. “The whole point of you asking me to get that shit for you was so it didn’t end up in the gossip rags or over tonight’s entertainment news. You really think I’m gonna risk doing it to myself? I had Tommy pick it up from the closest pharmacy outside town.”
I sigh inwardly with relief. I highly doubted that J would be so stupid, but I just had to check. God, I’m so fucking on edge right now. I need to calm down. It happened. Now, it’s time to move on. Man up, asshole. Stop being such a pussy. It’s done. Taken care of. Let it go.
“Poor guy.”
“Hey,” J says. “He’s paid to be my driver and a very discreet PA. He’s well compensated for it. You should get yourself a PA like him. Alison has a mouth on her. You could never trust her with this shit. She gossips like an old woman.”
He’s right. “I know, but I can’t let her go. She’s been with the company for years. Besides, she’s amazing with my schedule.”
He chuckles. “So you just use my PA for anything that crosses into personal territory?”
“It rarely ever happens that I call on Tommy,” I remind him.
“I know,” he says with a grin. And then he scans the living room, his eyes darting down the hall to the left. “So, where is she?”
“Shower.”
“I want to meet her. Go see if she’s finished.”
“Nope.”
He stares at me, dumbfounded, like I just told him the sky is green or some shit. “What? Why not?”
“She’s not comfortable with people…being around them. And meeting you, someone with such an overbearing and loud personality, is definitely not a good idea.”
He scrutinizes me for a few moments before saying, “Wow. Here I thought you intended to fuck her to get her out of your system and then walk away like you always do. But now I see that was all a bunch of bullshit. You’re protecting her. You’re possessive over her, Dan.”
“What? No—that’s not—”
“She’s under your skin, man.”
“You’re imagining things.”
His eyes light up and he says, “Shit, was you fucking her, claiming her? That would explain why it was so intense to make you slip up with the condom.”
“I…no.”
“So it was just an unemotional, empty fuck then?”
Damn him. “No, but—”
“But nothing. She means something to you.”
I shoot to my feet. “This conversation is over.”
The bastard just laughs. “You need to relax. Stop thinking so much. Just go with it.”
Before I can fire back at him, J’s eyes dart behind me suddenly.
I spin around to see Emma standing there in the doorway. Her right hand is gripping the door frame so tightly that her knuckles are white with the strain of it and she’s fiddling nervously with the fingers of her left hand. “Hi,” she says, timidly.
J gets to his feet and moves to approach her. I throw out my arm across his chest, holding him back. His gaze snaps to mine and he gives me a what-the-fuck look of incredulity.
“Emma, this is J, or Jason Wells. J, this is Emma Spencer. I believe you already know one another through email.”
She offers him a shy smile and says in a shaky breath, “Nice to meet you…uh…Jason.”
I silently pray that he doesn’t use this opportunity to ask her about her roof and getting inside her house to take a look at the potential internal damage he told me about the other night. I already know how Emma is with letting strangers into her house and I’m certain it will freak her out if he brings it up now and puts her on the spot.
To his credit, he doesn’t say anything. I watch him look her up and down. He’s discreet about it, so I’m sure she doesn’t notice, but to another guy it’s blatantly obvious that he’s eye-fucking her. And it pisses me off. A wave of possessiveness surges up within me and I fight the urge to punch him in the fucking face. She is mine!
Shit. Where did that come from? What is happening to me?
“I hope you’re keeping my boy in line, Emma,” he says, nonchalantly. I silently thank him for pretending not to notice her obvious awkwardness or the fact that she can’t look him in the eye. She tries to several times, but she can’t manage to hold his gaze. Instead, her eyes keep searching out mine.
I cross to her and wrap my arm tightly around her, unable to stand seeing her so ill at ease and uncomfortable. Before I can register what I’m doing, I kiss her chastely on the top of her head and start stroking her hair. Christ, it’s such a boyfriend move. J catches my eye and I see the shock all over his face. He can’t believe it. Fuck, neither can I.
I feel her relax into me and she releases her death grip on the door frame. Then, to my utter surprise, she asks J, “How long have you known one another?”
J snorts out a laugh. “Too long, sweetheart. Too fucking long.”
She laughs. Not a nervous laugh, but a real laugh.
I nod to J discreetly. Thanks, brother.
“Well, I should probably get going. See you around, Emma,” he says, before turning and heading for the elevator.
“J, thanks again,” I call out.
He holds up his hand and I watch him step into the elevator, leaving Em and I alone once again. Em? Yeah, I like that.
“You okay?” I ask, concerned.
She pulls away and shakes out her damp hair. “Yeah, of course.”
“Em, you don’t have to pretend with me. I get it. I’m sorry. I didn’t know he’d still be here when you were finished showering and dressing. I would never push shit like that on you, okay?”
Her eyes meet mine and I see how taken aback she is by my words. What is she used to dealing with then? Non-understanding assholes? Seems like it. I feel something twist inside me as I think about it. For fuck’s sakes, everyone has their issues. Hers are just a little more debilitating than others.
“I should probably go,” she tells me.
“What? Why?”
She takes my hand in hers and squeezes it gently as she tells me, “This can’t be anything more than what already happened earlier, Dan. It was…amazing, but that has to be it.”
“Em—”
“I thought that’s the way you were anyway. You fuck ‘em and chuck ‘em, right?”
“Googled me, huh?” How else could she know so much? She did see my phone, but that wasn’t enough for her to form a solid judgment.
She smiles sheepishly. “Yeah.”
She moves to pull away, but I don’t release her hand. I hold fast. “Tell me why.”
“What?”
“Tell me why this can’t be anything more to you.”
“What does it matter? You want the same thing, right?”
Hell, if I do. What? What am I doing? I wanted to fuck her once and that was it. That was the plan all along. Wasn’t it? Shit, I can’t do it…I don’t want her to go like this. I don’t want her to walk out of my life. “I’d just like to know,” I end up saying. Is my mouth not connected to my brain anymore? Where is this shit spewing forth from? I’m in some serious trouble here.
“I can’t have a relationship, Dan!” she yells, my question clearly getting under her skin.
Whoa. I release her hand and force myself not to react yet, to hear her out. If yelling is the way for her to tell me whatever is going on in that pretty little head of hers then so be it. Normally, a woman yelling at me would piss me the fuck off and cause me to react swiftly in a bid to calm the situation down. But, with Em, I think that’s one of her defense mechanisms. She’s like me in that way. She has trouble expressing emotion and being vulnerable in front of someone.
DIRTY ALPHAS Page 50
