by Beth Michele
My mouth lands on his, taking small nibbles before sliding my tongue across his bottom lip. He opens for me so I can lick at his tongue, his teeth. I tangle my hands in his hair, drawing him closer, wanting him deeper, until he abruptly breaks away.
“Whoa. That’s good. Any more of that and I’ll be taking you on the fucking stairway.” A sly smile forces one side of my lip to curl, thinking about how hot that would be.
He shakes his head, beginning his climb again. “Don’t even think about it. Not this time anyway.” And something flutters inside my belly at his insinuation that there might be a next time.
“Holy crap,” I utter as he continues up, flight after flight. “How many flights?”
“Twelve,” he replies, and he’s not even out of breath, nor is he breaking a sweat. The guy is in shape.
We finally make it up to his floor and he sets me down, looking over at me. “You ready?”
“I’m ready, but are you sure you have any stamina left?” I flirt, before he grins wickedly as he jams his key in the lock, nearly breaking the door down when it clicks into place.
He slams the door shut, throwing his keys onto a nearby table. When he misses and they hit the floor with a clank, he doesn’t give them a second glance. All of his attention is on me.
My purse falls to the carpet as he stalks toward me, backing me up until I’m flush against the wall. He places his arms on either side of my head.
“Do you have any idea how much I want you right now?” he groans, his breath blowing strong against my cheek, his masculine scent and proximity making me dizzy. He removes my hand from the wall and guides me down to his crotch, a hard bulge beneath his jeans. “That’s how much.” I bite my lip when my palm rubs over the thick outline of his cock. His eyes flick to my chest and he licks his lips, voice lowering. “I want to see your tits.”
I grab the hem of my knit dress and slide it over my head, tossing it to the ground. All that’s left is a black satin bra covering my D-sized breasts, and matching panties. His pupils darken as I reach around, making quick work of the clasp until the straps fall away. My nipples are stiff peaks, my arousal glaringly obvious. He fixates on them approvingly, inhaling a sharp intake of air.
I’ve never been shy when it comes to my body. I may not have a perfect figure—my hips are a bit wider than I’d like and I’m somewhat top heavy—but I’ve always been comfortable in my own skin. I guess showing Jason Standish my budding breasts behind his backyard shed when we were in eighth grade and having him grin like he’d just entered the gates of heaven went a long way toward building confidence. But this is a far cry from eighth grade and Rex is a world away from lanky Jason Standish. And I certainly don’t mind being looked at with hooded eyes, just the way Rex is ogling me right now. Like he wants to eat me alive.
“Oh, fuck.” He drags in a heavy breath. “They’re just as perfect as I imagined they’d be.”
A satisfied smile simmers on my lips. “You thought about my tits?”
“Hell yeah. Ever since you walked into the shop.”
His words spur me on and I tip my head back against the wall, lips slightly parted. Hungry eyes move lower as I cup my breasts, letting my fingers roam to my taut nipples, massaging them in circles. My skin is hot all over.
“Fuck, I think I might come right now,” he says through gritted teeth, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.
One of my hands drifts lower, floating down my belly until I reach the waistband of my panties. Slowly, I dip two fingers in, soaking them with my wetness. I watch him, watching me, and it looks like he’s barely holding on. Reaching down, he removes my hand and brings my fingers up, plunging them into his mouth. I moan when he sucks and licks them, his warm tongue increasing the ache between my legs.
He glides them out, then in, then out again, making me delirious with desire for him. “Your pussy tastes so good. I want more,” he says in a husky voice, and then he kisses me. It’s forceful, possessive, hungry. His tongue pushes deeper into my mouth, colliding with mine, his passion lighting a fire inside of me. My hands slide up his bare arms and dive into his hair as I grind against him, the feel of his erection intensifying the throb in my core. His lips break from mine and I whimper at the loss as he trails his tongue down my jawline, the hollow of my neck, my collarbone.
“Rex,” I pant, my body blazing, wanting his hot mouth all over me.
“Yes?” he answers, forging a trail of warmth down my flesh.
“Suck on my nipples.” My voice is pleading, but I don’t care.
He coasts lower, my breasts now heavy and aching for his mouth, and I cry out as he finally takes me between his lips, a shiver of pleasure rushing through my body. With a skilled mouth, he rotates between licking, sucking, and biting, sending another moan from my lips into the charged atmosphere. His head lifts and I glance at him from under my lashes.
“Do you know how much you turn me on? Your lips, your nipples, the way you taste? How hard my dick is, knowing I’m the one who made you this wet?”
“God, Rex,” I purr, lips unable to form any more words, my body doing all the talking for me. The spark in his eyes is undeniable, and I feel heady, knowing how much he wants me.
“Come on.” He grasps my hand. “I want you on my bed, so I can spread you open.”
I’m already about to come apart, and he’s barely touched me.
When we enter his bedroom, I take note of how small it is, yet it’s relatively clean compared to the rest of his apartment. I’m surprised by the amount of framed photographs lining the room, various sketches of tattoos covering the walls. The room is scarce of furniture, just the bed, two side tables, and a small, three-drawer dresser.
“Get comfortable on the bed and slide your panties off,” he says, and I do exactly as he asks, flinging them to the side before crawling onto the mattress. My feet claw at the sheets as I lie back on one of the pillows, anxiously awaiting the weight of his body on top of mine.
He grabs his t-shirt, lifting it over his head to reveal ropes of solid muscle, tattoos, and smooth skin. The only exception a tiny patch of hair leading to the part of his body my mouth is watering just thinking about. As if reading my mind, he shrugs out of his jeans and boxers in one fell swoop, and I moisten my lips with my tongue at the sight of his well-endowed cock.
He climbs on the bed, all the while my eyes are trained on his thick cock and the perfectly cut abs leading down to it. He’s actually beautiful, statuesque-like in many ways, and I breathe out a sigh.
“I’m going to ravage your body. First,” he rasps as he inches up my frame, his heated gaze searing my skin. “I’m going to start with the arch of your neck, then I’m going to move to those gorgeous, full tits, and finally, I’m going to take the most time licking your wet pussy, before I spend the rest of the night fucking you.”
I want to raise my hand and tell him I’m ready now.
A man of his word and holding true to his promise, he begins with my neck, a torturously slow descent, flitting down the curve, to the indent of my collarbone, the sensitive flesh between my breasts. My body responds instantly, nipples growing impossibly hard, sex clenching with need. Or maybe it’s want. I’m so delirious I don’t know the difference.
He takes first one nipple then the other into his mouth, stopping only to stare at the hardened crests. “God, your tits, they’re fucking amazing.” His nose circles me before he resumes his onslaught of heat down my skin.
My hands fist in his hair, guiding him lower, wanting him between my legs. “Rex, I—” The words are stunted when his tongue reaches my belly button and I tilt my hips up, pools of desire soaking my pussy. I spread my thighs apart, unable to wait much longer.
“Spread wider,” he says, and I shudder at the first drag of his tongue between my slit, the flood gates opening, my arousal spilling out.
“Oh God,” I shout, before I feel it again, and again, and again. His tongue exploring, tasting, lapping up my juices. “Deeper, Rex
, God, your tongue—”
“I could eat your pussy all night,” he murmurs, and I can barely hold on now, the coil in my belly ready to snap when he pushes two fingers inside of me, stroking my walls as he’s licking my clit.
“I’m—gonna come,” I moan, my hips bucking off the bed, heart pounding as he sends me over the edge, screaming his name.
I’m shattered, my body floating as his tongue continues to pleasure me, letting me ride out the wave of my intense orgasm. He shifts back up my body as my breathing slows, heart attempting to find a steady beat again.
He skims his lips against mine before pushing a sweaty strand of hair away from my face. “Did I tell you how much I love your pussy?” He grins, and I can’t help but smile.
“I think you just showed me.” A flush creeps across my cheeks. “I really enjoyed that.”
“Hmmm, yeah. I kind of got that sense.” He looks down between us at his throbbing cock. “I think I have something else you might enjoy.” He stretches across me, pulling the drawer of his bedside table open. For a split second I wonder how many women have lain here before but quickly put the thought out of my head as he rolls the condom on, positioning himself above me. My hands drift down his chest, wanting to touch him, to feel every solid ridge and plane of his muscles under my fingertips.
He grabs hold of his cock, easing inside my folds, pulling back then pushing in again. The teasing of his arousal is exquisite torture and I tremble as he stretches me. His eyes close and he groans. “Oh fuck. Your pussy is so tight.” Slowly, he rocks into me, holding his weight with his hands, eyes penetrating mine.
Streams of whimpers leave my mouth as he thrusts in and out of my pussy, his hips gyrating in a rhythmic motion. The smell of sex surrounds us, arousing me beyond belief. Defined lines of an eagle tattoo on his chest ripple with his movement as the moonlight slants through the window, his face in and out of shadows. I raise my hips to meet his as I climb higher, watching his muscles grow taut, face strained with pleasure.
“I can feel your pussy squeezing my cock. Fuck, you feel good,” he mutters, his voice deep, breathing choppy.
“Rub my clit,” I moan, my nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to puncture the skin. He reaches between us and the moment his finger touches me, I explode into a million pieces. “Oh God, Rex.”
He pounds into me a few more times, dots of sweat building on his forehead, his cock thickening inside of me. “Jesus, I’m gonna come,” he growls between heavy breaths. The pulse of his shudder vibrates through me and I grab his ass, pulling him in deep so he can give me everything he has. Exhaling roughly, he drops his head and licks the sweat from my neck, placing a few open-mouth kisses there before he rolls off. “Holy fuck, Blondie.” His breathing is still erratic as he turns his head to me.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I tease, and his mouth curves up into a grin. He’s got a great smile. There’s something so sexy about it, yet it’s also charming. “So….” I pause, leaning up on my elbow, not wanting to get too personal, which is bizarre because we just had off-the-charts sex. “I was wondering about your tattoos, what they symbolize?”
After disposing of the condom, he lies down next to me, and I still can’t get over how beautiful his body is. I trace my finger over the eagle tattoo that starts on his rib, the wings flowing into the middle of his chest. It’s done in black and white, a subtle hint of red in the feathers.
“Like this one, it’s beautiful,” I say, admiring the way it cuts across his muscle. “What does it mean?”
He stares up at the white chipped paint on the ceiling, almost as if he’s contemplating whether he wants to answer. There’s no trace of his eyes when he finally does. “It reminds me of my dad. He loved eagles when I was a kid, so it’s kind of in memoriam.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay. Shit happens, you know?” But his words are not as empty as he’s trying to make them appear.
“What about the one on the back of your neck? The angel wings with the dagger?” I ask, very curious what this one means.
“Hmph, well, it’s my way of saying there’s no such thing as angels, I suppose.”
“Oh.” I’m not sure what to say after that, so that’s when my meaningful questions stop and I opt for something a bit lighter. “So, how did you get into tattooing anyway?”
“Boy, you sure ask a lot of questions.” His eyes rake over my body. “I can think of better things to do.” He leans forward to take my nipple between his teeth, and I moan as he gently bites and sucks, worshipping it into a hard peak.
“You’re distracting me and I’m looking for information,” I choke out, but my feet are beginning to move anxiously on the bed. He’s really good at this—too good.
“So, how did you become a tattoo artist?” I ask again, his mouth continuing to travel south, my mind slowly following its lead.
He raises his head, feigning irritation. “You’re continuing to talk when I have other plans for you? Plans that I think you’ll enjoy a lot more than hearing about my boring background.” I shoot him an insistent glare and he relents with a loud sigh. “Okay, I’ll answer this one question, and then I’m having my way with you.”
“Deal.”
“So….” He kisses the underside of my breast. “I went to school for illustration….” His tongue drifts lower, lunging into my belly button, and I can’t help the whimper that escapes. He smiles, knowing he’s getting to me. “It was impossible to get a job as an illustrator, and at the time, a friend of mine in Boston worked at a tattoo shop. God, you smell so good,” he mumbles, my body squirming beneath him as his nose circles the outside of my sex.
“Rex—”
“That’s it. I went in to watch him work, then started working at the shop part-time, doing odd jobs there, watching the artists work. One day I stayed late, hanging around doing a sketch, and the owner was impressed, so he offered me an apprenticeship and the rest is history.” His fingers spread me open, tongue finding my clit, and I clutch a handful of sheet.
Not more than a second later, I’m missing his mouth when he stops abruptly. “Are we done talking now?” His velvety tongue resumes its torture of my clit, back and forth through my wet seam.
“Hmmm….”
“How does my tongue feel on your pussy?” He groans, my legs falling open the only response to his question. “Hell, yes. Spread nice and wide… Fuck, you’re ready for me again.”
“Hmmm,” I moan once more as his tongue flutters back and forth over my clit, and I grip the headboard behind me. “It feels so good, Rex.”
As his tongue penetrates my entrance, he pushes a finger inside, fucking and licking me as my hips arch against his hand, his mouth. The pleasure begins to build and my limbs tingle. I need more.
“More, Rex, faster,” I say hoarsely, and he doesn’t hesitate, another finger joining his tongue, and within seconds, I come apart, screaming his name.
I lie here, trying to get my breathing under control, expecting him to stop. Instead, he continues to lap at me as I slowly come down from the high, almost as if he can’t get enough.
“You’re very skilled at that,” I tease when he finally settles beside me.
“Well, it helps when you have a good subject. If it were up to me, like I told you, I’d eat your pussy all night long.”
My cheeks flame red for no other reason except—I don’t even know why.
“You’re kind of cute when you blush.” He reaches for a bottle of water on the side table. “Want some?”
“No thanks.” Glancing at the table next to me, I find a framed photograph of three boys, all wearing baseball shirts. The two in the back are obviously Rex and Hunter, a little boy kneeling in front of them. “You and Hunter haven’t changed a bit.” I lift the picture to examine it more closely.
“Yeah.” He polishes off the water, throwing the bottle in a nearby trash can.
“Who’s this little boy? He’s adorable.”
He
spins around with ice in his eyes, expelling a loud breath, the playfulness from earlier, gone. “What’s with the fifty questions? Listen, I’m going to take a shower.”
With another audible breath, he stalks off to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him, and I suddenly feel as if I’ve been slapped in the face. I guess it’s not okay to ask questions, even though we just fucked and he went down on me. Twice.
Whatever.
I wait until I hear the shower running then slide off the bed, fishing around the house for the remainder of my clothing. I’m not sticking around. There’s really no need to.
As soon as I’m dressed, I snatch my purse from the floor, fuming, wanting to scream though I have no idea why. I shake my head as if to clear it and am about to walk out the door when Rex’s arm stops me. I pivot to find him dripping water all over the carpet, a towel wrapped around his waist.
“Listen,” he blows out a breath, “I’m sorry I acted like a dick. And you don’t have to go.”
“Yes, I do.” I snatch my arm away. “I need to get up early tomorrow.” It’s not true, but he doesn’t need to know that.
He curls his fingers into a fist, his jaw ticking, seemingly fighting for control. “I-I can’t talk about it, okay?” Tilting his head to the side, his gaze slides to mine and I know exactly what he’s looking for—understanding. Since he gave it to me earlier, I feel like I owe him that much.
“Sure.” I break away from his eyes, digging inside my purse to distract from the sudden awkwardness claiming me.
“Hey.” He slips his index finger under my chin, forcing my eyes back to his. “I had a good time tonight.”
“I did, too.” My response is soft, a ghost of a smile creeping across my cheeks.
“So, can I have your cell? Maybe we can get together again? Well,” he chuckles, “as long as I promise not to act like a dick.”
“I guess you kind of owed me one for acting like a bitch,” I pipe back, and he laughs, surprising me by pulling me in for a kiss.
“So, we’re even now,” he says against my lips, his erection pressing against me through the towel, making me want to rip it off. I dig in the purse that’s now crushed between us, finding a pen and a scrap piece of paper. He backs up long enough for me to write my number down.
