by Karina Halle
He’s between my legs and I’m completely bare for him but I don’t feel a hint of self-consciousness. I feel like it was always supposed to be this way, that Fox was always supposed to look at me this way.
And, fuck, is he ever looking. He’s gnawing on his lip as he stares and my skin heats under his carnal gaze and he’s slowly sliding both of his hands up along my thighs, my sensitive skin dancing.
“Are you sure you want this?” he manages to say, his voice coated with this huskiness that makes the hairs on my arms stand up, the space between my legs flush with heat.
My “yes” is caught in my throat. I can only nod.
Please touch me. Touch me everywhere.
My whole body moves toward him like gravity, wanting more. Craving more.
He gives me a half-smile that borders on predatory. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do this.”
“Tell me about it,” I manage to say as his mouth dips toward my jawline, nibbling along it before it slides down my neck, a hot trail of lips and tongue and teeth.
His mouth returns to mine, his lips soft and strong, and I’m melting into his mouth, dissolving underneath his tongue. It’s just as raw as sex, and I feel open and bare from just the heat of our kiss, the languid, penetrating way he explores my mouth. It’s like he’s devouring me, conquering me, and I’ve never been happier to give in.
“Del,” he says, our mouths parting for a moment, my name an urgent hiss on his lips. His hands are now moving down to my shirt, sliding over my skin. His hands feel so warm, so possessive as they glide over my waist and stomach, slowly making their way up to my breasts.
I help him out by grabbing the hem of my shirt and pulling it up and over my head.
He lowers his head to my breasts, kissing the swell of them while he quickly reaches behind my back and deftly undoes my bra, discarding it on the peanut shell-covered floor beside us.
My nipples tighten in the air, begging to be touched. He cups one breast and brings his mouth to them slowly dragging his tongue around it in circles, over and over again, before giving it a hard flick.
I moan, my head back, as his tongue continues to flick my nipple, hard and fast. It pulls every nerve ending into a tightened knot. I’m growing more turned on and desperate by the minute. My back arches, and I push my breasts up to him, craving more and less at the same time.
I don’t have any time in my foggy brain to think about it being Fox.
But it is Fox.
It’s his teeth now razing over my nipples, causing me to gently cry out.
It’s his hands sliding up my legs to where I’m warm and wet.
It’s his cock that presses against me, pushing against the fabric of his pants.
Lust hits me like a rush. I want nothing more than to come. I want him to make me come, I want his clothes off, I want to be fucked silly on this pool table until I’m screaming his name.
If he wants to spank me with the cue stick, I wouldn’t complain.
My god.
This is actually happening.
“Lay back,” he murmurs gruffly, putting his hand on my chest and urging me down.
I lie back, the soft green felt of the table pushing into my shoulder blades while he takes his hand and slides it between my legs, his fingers skirting over my clit, before one finger slowly makes its way inside of me. He leans forward, gazing at me, drunk on lust. “And so very, very wet.”
His eyes are unnerving. I don’t think I’ve ever been looked at so sexually before and never by him. It’s almost too intimate. I have always been lost in his eyes but never like this.
Not even close.
I close my eyes and try to control my breathing as he slowly pushes another finger inside me. I gasp, clenching around him, while the pad of his thumb grinds against my clit.
It’s fucking bliss.
“Are you ever going to get naked?” I ask breathlessly, looking up at him.
“When I put my cock inside you and fuck you on this pool table, yes,” he says, his voice hoarse. “For now though, I want to taste you.”
Then he gets to his knees and puts his head between my legs as I’m hanging halfway off the table. His hands spread my thighs wide before he presses his fingers into my hips, holding me in place.
I’m not ready for this, for him to go down on me. It was something I fantasized about daily, but I never imagined it would happen with me completely naked on this pool table in my pub, him fully clothed, head between my legs.
I try and sit up to watch, utterly fascinated and turned on by the sight, but as his tongue languidly slides over my clit, washing over my nerves, slippery and wet, I have to lie back down. The feeling is too much and I feel like a sponge trying to soak up stars and lightning and everything beautiful, and it’s too overwhelming for this world.
And Fox is relentless.
I mean, good lord, the man can eat pussy. He’s at me with messy precision, his lips, tongue, and occasionally those long fingers of his working me into a wild frenzy.
I can’t think.
I can’t breathe.
I can only feel as my blood runs hot, my nerves tying up in knots upon knots, pulling, pulling, pulling, until he’s groaning against me and I’m digging my nails into his hair and his tongue is pushing into me in hot, quick stabs.
I’m so swollen, so desperate, that when he brushes his fucking nose against my clit, the knots all come undone at once.
I come. Hard.
I am blasting through space, groaning, writhing on the table as the orgasm rips through me, feeling like I’ve had a million swirling stars being born inside me.
But the relief is short-lived.
As I catch my breath, my limbs still loose, and peer up at him as he stands between my legs, he’s taking off his shirt.
Undoing his belt.
Letting his pants drop.
He’s just in his grey boxer briefs.
Damn.
He might as well be naked.
I can see every hard, rigid detail of his cock.
I swallow hard, amazed how quickly I’ve gone from spent and sated to hungry and, well, a little afraid in a matter of seconds.
Fox is a big man and so my fantasies always took that into consideration but the real thing is blowing all my fantasies about him out of the water.
He’s huge.
Beautiful.
Perfect.
Somehow I manage to pry my eyes away from his underwear and take in the rest of him. As I’d known, Fox is fit as fuck with a body sculpted by hard and dangerous work. He’s all firm angles and long planes, from the wide breadth of his tattooed shoulders and chest, to the definition in his abs and the way they lead to the sharp V of his hips. A dusting of chest hair thins out before becoming a treasure trail again. I’ve seen his body so many times over the years but never ever like this. It’s like seeing him for the first time.
He’s so manly, and his posture suggests he’s completely at ease with his body. I want to get to know that body better, like I never have before. I want to run my lips and fingers and breasts along every lean, hard-earned inch of him. I want to feel it press against mine, damp with sweat.
“Are you just going to stand there?” I say to him, feeling just a tad bit vulnerable that I’m still naked and spread eagle and waiting.
He flashes me an assured smile and pulls down his boxer briefs, letting his cock, swollen and thick, jut out in front of him.
Damn. This is now an urgent debilitating lust he’s stroked within me. The kind that wants it all hard and fast and now.
He steps between my legs, the dark, wet tip of his cock rubbing against my sensitive clit before he pauses. “I don’t have anything. But I’m clean.”
“I’m on the pill,” I tell him, impatience running through me, hot and tight. “Now hurry up.”
His eyes gleam with intensity. It’s something dark and deep, like he’s not just after my body but my soul. I can feel it in his gaze, in the way he keeps s
ifting through the layers, searching for something to satisfy him.
He’s seeing me for the first time.
“Sit up,” he murmurs, sliding his arms around my waist and pulling me up. I wrap my legs around him, place my hands behind his neck, already damp with sweat. Our faces are inches apart, but he’s not kissing me. He’s fucking me with his eyes, the way they simmer over my mouth, as if he’s thinking of all the things my mouth could do.
I want to show him.
I bring my face closer, take his bottom lip between my teeth and gently suck.
I feel a rumbling groan build through his chest, like he’s barely holding his lust in check, a million wild mustangs waiting to be unleashed.
“I’m trying to have patience with you,” he whispers hoarsely, kissing the corner of my mouth. “I can’t have this over too fast. I need to savor,” he kisses my jaw, “every,” he kisses my neck, “part of you. Who knows if we’ll have this again.”
Oh god.
Oh god, I hope we do.
“Savor me later,” I tell him, as a sudden surge of adrenaline rockets through me. I grab the back of his neck, wanting, needing him to kiss me hard. His cock is this hot, stiff pressure rubbing against my clit, and I’m desperate, so desperate, for him to come inside me.
His mouth continues along my collarbone, nipping and licking, and my legs pull him closer. I’m whimpering, his lips ducking down to my nipples, so swollen and sensitive.
“Please,” I beg, my voice ragged in my throat. “I need you inside me.”
He brings his head up, his eyes wild with this hazy, heavy kind of lust. “I’ve always dreamed of you saying that,” he says thickly. He reaches down, positioning his cock against me. His eyes hold mine at knifepoint, and I’m unable to look away as he slowly pushes himself inside.
I stretch around him, my breath hitching tight in my throat.
“Oh, fuck,” Fox gasps against my neck, his hands dropping to the small of my waist and pulling himself deeper into me. “Fuck. Deilahl.”
My name has never sounded so good.
Meanwhile, my body is still adjusting to his size, feeling absolutely stretched and full. Thank god I’m drenched.
He pulls back—so fucking deliberate, like he’s trying to feel every centimeter—and I’m ravenous.
I’m crazed.
An animal.
I need more.
Crave more.
My hands move to his shoulders, and I dig them into his skin, wanting all of him.
As Fox pushes back in, I expand around him, accepting him as if he’s always belonged in me, as if he’s always been home.
Because he has been,
From the start.
The connection between us is tight and frightening, and the intimacy is nearly too much for my heart to swallow. Our eyes dance with each other, glancing through lowered lashes, through the sweat and haze, searing deep and then moving on to other parts. He takes in my mouth like a glass of water, and the carnality in his gaze snaps a million strings inside me.
He murmurs my name again, his voice sliding over me like rough silk, and I am enraptured by his surrendering, his pleasure, lost in the hot, ragged draw of his breath against my skin and his raw grunts in my ear.
I can’t believe this is happening.
Fox Nelson.
Inside me.
I’m on a pool table in The Bear Trap Pub.
Being thoroughly fucked by a man I had only dreamed about.
A man who has my heart.
This is unlike anything I’ve felt in this world. This is holding fire and electricity in your burning hands. This is magic and light running through your veins, a switch being turned on, turning you into everything primal and basic and real.
This is the us we always should have been.
The table starts to shake underneath me. An earthquake of his doing. My legs grip him harder. I reach down and shrug his toned, round ass between my hands, pulling him into me. His grunts are hoarser now, loud from lust, and I still can’t believe this is my reality, that this is my moody, brooding, wonderful Fox, and he’s so deep inside me I can’t breathe. I can’t do anything but hold on.
His pace becomes frantic. A drop of hot sweat rolls off his brow and onto my collarbone. His lungs gasp with exertion, because this is a workout to fuck me like this, so fast, so deep, so thorough.
I never want it to end.
Then his hand slips between my legs, his thumb finding my clit, and now I’m frantically chasing my release until I’m at its mercy, on the edge, ready to fall.
I groan loudly.
I’m opening, I’m opening, I’m opening, legs falling apart, wider and wider.
I’m coming.
I’m coming.
I’m…
And then I’m off like a bomb.
Crying unintelligible words.
My body convulses violently, spasming around him.
It’s so good, it’s too good.
I never want anything else. Anyone else.
Just this, this, this.
Him.
All the time.
Forever.
His neck cranes, head back, jaw tense as he grinds his teeth together. He comes, and I watch with a sense of relief and wonderment that I’m doing this to him.
Me.
This is all my doing.
His face is pinched in a mix of rapture and anguish, and he’s swearing in a low guttural voice, his grip on my hips so hard I think he’s going to leave plum-colored bruises.
“Fuck,” he swears as he slows his pumping. He’s shaking. I’m shaking. His eyes flit over my body in a daze, sex-soaked and spent. I stare up at him, and it’s like looking through a dream.
It hits me slowly, like dissipating smoke, what exactly we’ve done and what it means to me.
Everything.
He pulls out of me, and I’m immediately hollow. I want to keep him inside. My terror builds as he retreats, pulling up his briefs, and I want reassurance that the world isn’t ending. I need to feel that this wasn’t a one-time fling, that I’m not alone and adrift. The urge for his contact is unbearable.
Fox’s chest rises and falls as he stares down at me in a mix of worry and amazement.
“Hey,” he says gently, his voice thick. He reaches down and slowly pulls me up by my waist and shoulders like I’m a ragdoll. His longer fingers press against my cheeks as he holds me in place, searching my eyes. “Are you okay?”
I can’t speak. I can only swallow, though it’s like bread crusts are lodged in my throat. I nod.
He rubs his lips together, looking worried. I don’t want him to be worried, I don’t want him to regret anything.
“I’m more than okay,” I manage to say.
“Good,” he says, his eyes gazing over me. Lazy, sated, glimmering at what we’ve just done. He reaches behind my head, pulls me into him and kisses me.
My emotions won’t stop swirling.
I’m not sure if I’ll ever come down from this high.
He pulls away and gives me a lopsided smile. “Can you give me a ride home?”
I laugh, glad that things are back to being easy between us. “Of course.”
Easy but forever changed.
6
Delilah
Flames.
I’m dreaming of fire.
Of two bodies writhing against each other, a wild, hot, sweaty race that’s creating fire out of friction.
I’m being burned alive and I’m smiling.
Laughing.
Until I’m reborn in the ashes.
Phoenix rising.
Knock knock.
I blink. Awake. My eyes open. A ceiling. I have a hard time trying to figure out where I am. Nothing seems real right now and I can’t tell what’s a dream and what isn’t.
But this is my bedroom ceiling.
And only my heart is on fire.
“Delilah sweetheart?” my mother asks from the other side of the door. “Are you okay? It’s a
lmost ten thirty.”
Oh my god. I reach over for my phone and press the home button. She’s right. I’ve slept way in.
“I’m fine,” I yell back. “I, uh, forgot to set the alarm.”
Which isn’t a lie. I forgot to do a lot of things last night when I got home after three a.m. I must have crawled into bed after dropping off Fox. He had invited me in to spend the night at his place and I honestly don’t know how I had the discipline to turn him down but I did, telling him I didn’t want my mom to worry.
I mean, how stupid is that, a woman my age worrying about her mom but the truth is, I wanted the distance between us. I had a hard time processing what happened and am having hard time now and that would be a million times more complicated and difficult if I woke up in Fox’s bed.
Though, fuck. I also wish I had woken up in his bed. I wish I could have slept with his arms around me, wish I could have had sex with him again this morning if only just to finally realize what the hell happened.
I had sex with Fox.
In my bar.
On the pool table.
I had sex with him and it was better than my wildest dreams.
Which makes me feel like maybe it could have been a dream. I mean, how does something that you’ve wanted for so damn long finally happen like that?
But then I get up and I’m sore between my legs and I think I pulled a muscle and I swear I can still feel his lips at my nipple, that harsh delicious tug, and then I know it wasn’t a dream at all.
It was all very, very real.
Holy shit.
My phone beeps and my heart races with hope, thinking it’s Fox.
I glance at it. It’s Rachel.
Are you ready? I’ll be there in five.
What on earth is she…oh damn. I had totally forgot about her last dress fitting today. Riley and I are supposed to go with her.
I jump out of bed and race to the washroom to get ready. I don’t bother with makeup, pull my hair back in a ponytail and slip on jean shorts and a T-shirt. But even though I’ve done nothing to myself, my reflection makes me stop and stare. I look like I’m glowing. My eyes are bright, lips seem fuller, my cheeks have a hint of pink. I totally have the look of someone who just had hot sex.
