All I Need: Ian & Annie

by Callie Harper

  “So many follow-up questions, Annie.” I shook my head at her, still holding her firmly in my arms. “One question at a time.”

  She squirmed a little in my lap, growing self-conscious. Hand on my chest, she added, “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry. I'm just curious.”

  “Yes, I know you're curious about me. But for tonight, I've fulfilled my end of the bargain.” Trailing a finger along her arm, my other hand wrapped securely along her waist, I murmured, “Now it's time to fulfill your end.”

  Her fingers clutched at my chest and she looked up anxiously. I kissed her forehead, reaching my fingers beneath her chin and tilting up her lovely face. Taking her lips with mine, I leaned into her, savoring her taste, relishing how she opened up to me as she parted her lips and moaned into my mouth. I kissed my way up her cheek over to her ear, sucking on her sensitive lobe. “Don't you know there's nothing to be afraid of?”

  “I’ve never...” She twisted in my grasp, inadvertently rubbing her plump ass along my lap. My cock pushed hard against my jeans, wanting in on the action. It took all the restraint I had not to grab her hips and thrust her down over it, positioning my hard shaft right between her thighs. But with Annie, I needed to go slow. She was shy and scared, and I needed to coax her out.

  “I know you've never done this.” I assured her with the gentleness of my touch, caressing her lower back, her hip and leg. “I’m glad I'm going to be your first. I'm going to make you feel so good.”

  “Ian.” Her voice sounded slightly breathy as she called out my name, some of her anxiety still there but now clearly mingling with arousal.

  “Let me show you how good it can feel.” I trailed my fingers up and down her inner thighs still in her jeans. Instinct prompted her to part her legs, giving me access. “You feel so good, Annie.” She sighed pretty against my chest, and I could feel her relaxing into my touch. One hand still firmly at her side, keeping her where I wanted, I slowly inched my fingers up. Would she be wet?

  Slowly, gently, I swept two fingers along the seam of her jeans. She gasped, twisting in my grip, so sensitive and nervous. “Shh, it's okay,” I soothed her, nuzzling into her hair, kissing her temple. “Relax.”

  Her chest rose and fell against me with her breathing, quick and excited. I brought my fingers to the button of her jeans and undid it, then slid down the zipper. Slipping my fingers inside and down to her panties, I slid down to press at her center. The silk was damp and warm to the touch. I hissed with satisfaction. My innocent virgin wanted me, wanted this.

  “You're wet,” I murmured into her ear, stroking where she'd soaked through her panties. She panted, her hand at my chest clutching me. Starting into a slow rhythm, I circled and stroked her through her panties, and got my reward as she parted her thighs more, tilting her head back and moaning.

  Leaning down to her throat, I sucked and licked her warm, soft skin. “You feel so good.” She moaned again, twisting on my lap with need. “Now I'm going to touch you where it feels even better. But I need you to take off your jeans.”

  I helped her up to standing and slid her jeans down her ample hips. She watched me do it through half-lidded eyes. Once they were off, I settled her back to my lap. Running my palms up and down her bare thighs, she felt better than I'd ever imagined, so smooth and creamy. The little sighs and moans she made drove me wild.

  “You feel like heaven,” I whispered, returning my fingers to the top of her panties. “I need to touch you.”

  “Yes,” she whimpered, panting into my chest.

  With a growl, I pulled her panties down her thighs, stripping them off her in an instant. I groaned as I pressed my fingers directly to her slick, glistening pussy. She was so wet, dripping with arousal, her clit flushed and swollen. She trembled in my lap, her thighs quivering, every inch of her body ripe and needy.

  I forced myself to go slow, gentle, stroking her where she needed it, right where she was most sensitive. I wanted to ram a finger up inside of her deep, plunging it in where I knew she'd take me slick and hot. But I held back. This was her first time. I didn't want her to feel even a moment of discomfort. I wanted everything about it to be perfect. I could tell from the little sounds she made, soft grunts, little needy mews as she pushed against my fingers, tilting her hips so she could get more, she was drawing close.

  “You feel that, baby?” My strokes grew faster, more pressure on her clit. “See how good that feels?”

  “Uh, Ian, wait!” She pressed her hand to my chest, pushing into me with her hips, greedy for more even as she nervously asked me to slow down.

  “Let go,” I told her. “I've got you, Annie. Let go.”

  She cried out as I worked her clit in a quick rhythm. I felt her tensing and shuddering, her hips bucking forward into my hand as she started to cum.

  “That's it, baby, cum for me. Show me how good you cum for me.”

  “Yes, Ian, yes!” Mouth open, eyes closed, she looked as if she were drowning in deep, pure pleasure. I'd never seen anything so gorgeous. I milked her, riding out the waves of her orgasm, breathing in her response and making it last as long as I could.

  “So beautiful, Annie.” I kissed her cheeks and lips, her throat. Holding her pressed close to my chest, I took my fingers from buried in her pussy and brought them to my lips. She looked up and watched, dazed, as I licked off her slick arousal.

  I groaned. “You taste so good. I can't wait to make you cum in my mouth.”

  “That was...” Breathless, she brought her hand to her forehead, her eyes wide. “I've never...”

  I kissed her again, enjoying leaving her at a loss for words. “I told you it would be more intense with me.”

  “I am so...” She trailed off again, and I could tell she felt drowsy. My cock practically hammered through my jeans, but I knew the way to win this race was not to rush to the finish. I needed to take it slow, no matter how much it felt like it would kill me. The urge to take her, drive into her, pulsed through my veins.

  Instead, I helped her stand up, actually assisting her in pulling on her jeans. It went against every instinct I had. Frankly, wearing any clothes with a body like hers was criminal. But we'd build up to that.

  I stood, holding her in an embrace. I didn’t want to say it, but I forced myself to. “You should probably get to bed.”

  She nodded, bringing her hand to her forehead again, a beautiful pink flush on her cheeks. “Good night Ian.”

  “Good night, Annie.”

  I knew it would be a long night for me. My cock needed attention, but it was only going to get my hand. For now. Seduction took time, and that was what I was going to give Annie. I could be patient, educating her about her own needs, until she was ready for much more.

  9

  Annie

  What in the hell had just happened to me? My legs felt all wobbly and warm. I had to grip the handrail as I climbed up the stairs, needing it for stability and support.

  Was that what an orgasm was supposed to feel like? It felt like my head had exploded into tiny little stars, or like a volcano had erupted inside of me, but neither of those worked because that imagery was much too violent. What I’d just felt had been so delicious, so dreamy and eye-rollingly marvelous I couldn’t begin to describe it. Better than the best food I’d ever tasted. It made the puny little orgasms I’d been giving myself seem anemic and weak.

  What had I been missing all these years? I’d fooled around with men before, not many and we hadn’t gone too far in our mutual explorations, but their fingers had never set off tremors throughout my entire body. Mostly in the past, I’d been hyper aware, awkward and uncomfortable with a constant barrage of questions popping into my head: Why did the couch feel so prickly? Why was his hand so cold? Would he stop soon?

  I’d read magazine articles about taking charge, letting a man know what you wanted. But somehow I’d instinctively known that none of the men I’d been with before could pin the tail on that donkey even without the blindfold. No amount of instructions
could have enabled them to make me feel the way Ian just had.

  I flopped down on my bed, lying on my back, gazing up at the ceiling. Ian was incredible. He’d been through so much. It was a miracle he’d even survived that boat accident. To think how much pain he’d suffered, how much he still continued to suffer.

  And how much pleasure he’d given me. And I’d thought I shouldn’t go through with the bargain? What had I been worried about, exactly? I couldn’t even remember as a drowsy, elated haze slowly closed my eyelids. Drifting off still fully clothed, my last thought was how I couldn’t wait until the next night, because a girl could get addicted to feeling that good.

  * * *

  §

  * * *

  The next morning, I felt slightly less euphoric. I wouldn't go so far as to say I felt regret, but all those endorphins racing through my system had cleared out. In the stark, clear light of morning, when I replayed the evening's events, I had to at least acknowledge it had been an unusual encounter.

  I hadn't gone down to the library with the express intent of following through on his proposal. I'd been intrigued by it, of course. Outrageous as it was of him to suggest such terms, I'd had not a moment's rest from the minute he’d talked about making me cum.

  Rest hadn't been a problem last night. I'd fallen fast asleep practically the moment my body had hit the bed. He'd taken me so high, made me feel so burst open with pleasure, I'd drifted off on a cotton candy cloud.

  Washing and dressing, now I felt self-conscious. At first I’d talked a good game, protesting, calling him crazy. But when it came down to it, the moment he'd touched me I'd come apart. I'd unraveled in his arms, my body responding to him on instinct. I couldn't pinpoint the exact moment at which my brain had downshifted and my body had taken charge, but that's exactly what had happened. It had felt too good with him to say no.

  Now my brain was back in the building. It had a lot to say about what had happened last night. It was strange, for starters. People didn't start relationships that way, with a bargain, personal information given in exchange for sexual gratification. And there I was, thinking of this as a relationship. It was on me if I started hearing wedding bells. He'd been quite clear. To him, this was a transaction, like going to the ATM or clicking "Place your order" on Amazon.

  But had it really felt that way to him? Listening to him tell me about what he'd been through, I saw such anguish on his face, heard deep hurt and pain in his voice. It had pierced me, made me cry, both to hear what he'd been through back then and how much he was still suffering from it. What would it be like to have made a stupid decision as a young teen and then have to pay for it for the rest of your life? I'd always played it so safe, never really able to experiment with being reckless since I was so busy caretaking. Sometimes I'd felt bad about it, wondering what I'd missed out on, where I'd be now in my life if I'd ever once acted on impulse.

  I blushed, looking at myself in the mirror as I brushed my hair, realizing I'd certainly acted on impulse last night. And now here I was, confused and unsure. But maybe it had been worth it? My skin tingled in memory, a new awareness traveling through my limbs. I'd never felt so alive, so swept up, so worked up and then so freed.

  And it wasn’t just the orgasm that had me swooning—even though attaching the word “just” to that word “orgasm” seemed wrong. It had been earth-shattering, mind-blowing, beyond anything I'd expected or experienced. But there was more to why I was swooning over this man. It was lots of little moments when I saw his humor, his insight. It was the way his eyes had lit up when he talked about his family's distillery. The way he'd encouraged me to taste, feel, experience what his family had been creating for centuries. I saw pride in him, a sense of artistry and accomplishment. There was so much more to him than maybe even he realized.

  Tying my hair back into a loose ponytail with a ribbon, I squared my shoulders. Where did he see this going? Where did I want it to go? There was only one way to find out.

  Downstairs, I found Ian straightaway, but not where I'd expected to. He was in the cavernous, decrepit main living room of the castle where I didn't think I'd seen him since our very first conversation.

  “Do you think it's the right size?” A few feet away from the large couch hosting a family of mice in its cushions, he studied the furniture.

  “What, the couch?” I walked over to join him.

  “I'm thinking it might need to be replaced.” He looked at me with a roguish smile.

  I had to laugh. It was such an understatement. “But where will the mice live?”

  “Right.” He stroked his chin, as if considering the wisdom of my question. “Do we buy a miniature house for them, then? Feed them cheese in it?”

  “It seems the only humane thing to do.”

  He nodded. “I'll get right on that. And how about you pick us out a couch? About the same size?”

  “Really?” Had he just said “us” like we were a couple selecting furniture for our home?

  “I've never done it before.”

  “Nor have I.” I pictured our family’s one dreary couch, cushions smashed over years of use. My mother and I kept it cleaner than the one gracing the Douglas estate, but whether it was brown due to manufacturer's specifications or the wear and tear of time was anybody's guess.

  “All right. I’m off to my morning workout.” He headed out of the room, glancing back at my surprised expression. “Did you have a good sleep last night?” I blushed at his question, and the mischievous gleam in his eye. He winked at me, a satisfied expression on his handsome face. “I thought so.”

  As I watched him leave, I shook my head over his cockiness. But he was also right and he knew it. He'd done me in.

  The rest of the day passed in a surprisingly normal fashion, me busy with my usual tasks plus the additional one of looking into a couch purchase. Of course even as I hustled and bustled about as usual, I had one thing and one thing alone on my mind. It was not the couch.

  Late in the afternoon, he found me outside in the garden. “Cassie from town has brought round some meat pies for dinner. Why don't you help yourself when you're done? I'll see you in the library later on.”

  I didn't know how he could act so nonchalant. Probably because he did this kind of thing all the time. But while I told myself that, I knew it wasn't entirely the truth. He might have a wild sex life for all I knew. He certainly seemed to know exactly what he was doing when he touched me. But what I knew he didn't do much was talk about what happened to him. Sharing all that had to have meant something to him, maybe even as much as it had meant to me?

  Thankfully, I didn't have too much time to dwell on things. Soon after I came in the house, Liv called. She vented for a good half hour about a fight she and Jess had been having. Then Jess called me to vent about the same thing. It seemed like the problem at the heart of the friction was how much time it took to look after Brian. I knew I’d left behind a part-time job when I’d taken the caretaker position. I guess they were realizing it now, too. Then I spent another half-hour on with my mum talking through logistical options—and talking her down from the proverbial ledge. I hung up worried, stressed and frazzled.

  I found Ian in the library. I don’t know what he expected when he saw me, but the torrent of venting I unleashed was not it. His eyebrows raised as he listened, until he finally interrupted, “This is the household you left to take work as caretaker here?”

  “Yes,” I sighed, taking a sip of the single-malt he’d poured. Slowly, I savored it, letting it coat my tongue as he’d taught me. Amazing how much smoother it went down when I took my time. The process calmed me, too, forcing my mind to stop racing, making me press pause.

  “Sounds to me like you traded up. At least here you’re paid to run around taking care of household tasks. And you only have to put up with one cranky person, not four.”

  “Really just my sisters are the cranky ones.” I took another sip, a bit too big, and I spluttered and coughed.

  “Easy ther
e, killer.” He patted me on the back, rubbing me even after I’d calmed down. “They got you all worked up, didn’t they?” I nodded, letting my head tilt back, my eyes flicker closed as he massaged my back, up to my shoulders, kneading my tense muscles. “I’d be happy to help you relax.” His words rolled out, smooth and low, but they made my eyes pop open.

  “Ian!” I scooched away on the couch, putting some distance between us. “We should talk about what happened last night.”

  “Mmmm.” He arched an eyebrow, giving me an all too satisfied look. He knew what he’d done to me.

  “I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy it.” There was that flush again that he so frequently brought out, making my cheeks glow in the firelight.

  “I know I enjoyed it very much.”

  “You did? You enjoyed telling me about the accident?”

  “That wasn't exactly what I was thinking about.”

  “Oh, right.” Of course, that was silly of me. I could tell he wanted to steer us down a certain path. But I had an agenda, too. “So how was it, telling me about the accident? Have you talked about it with many people?”

  “No, curious one.” He smiled, clearly reluctant to discuss the subject any further, but still answering.

  “Who knows about how you got injured?” I pressed on.

  “My family, obviously. My friends who were in it with me. A handful of others, people I'm close to. Or used to be.” A frown furrowed his brow. I felt a strong urge to kiss him there, smooth away the worry and the pain. “Come to think of it,” he added, “I bet a lot more people know now that all my friends have coupled up.”

  “Have they?”

  “One after another, like dominoes. First Chase, then Liam with my sister.”

  “Sophie?” I asked eagerly.

  “How do you know her name?”

  “I saw that newspaper clipping on the shelf.” I gestured over to it. “It had her name underneath the photo.”