Jagged Heart (Broken Bottles Series Book 3)

by Taeuffer, Pamela

  I have no stop signs. They’re all down.

  “Do you ever look at your breasts when you get excited?”

  “No.” I said weakly.

  “I'm looking at them now. Shall I tell you?" A kiss on my lips and a nod from me, and he began a narration of what he saw in my desire. "When your nipples harden, the flesh around them shrivels." His tongue traced the little bumps that ran around my pink circles. "Your areola darkens." He kissed the areas surrounding each nipple. “The sweet little pink becomes full as if your breasts are telling me to take them in my mouth. I’m the one, Nicky. I’m going to explore them in every way. I’ll whisper to you softly about the delicious connection I feel inside your body. I need to know how it is to taste every inch of your skin as I lick and suck your curves and moist places. Your signals are visual and obvious. You don’t have to say a word; I’ll know everything.”

  He’ll know . . . everything.

  "Take them." I pulled on the back of his neck, coaxing his mouth closer to my swollen breasts.

  His fingers held them reverently and squeezed lightly. He rolled my pink nubs with his fingertips and circled them with his tongue. Nipping at each hard pebble, he moaned in pleasure as he suckled them. The way his body stretched and twisted on top of me encouraged me to embrace my fantasies, as well as the ones I imagined played in his mind.

  Lifting up just enough to make a little room between us, he untied the drawstring on my shorts. Ryan was making his roadmap and continued to explore me.

  Oh yes.

  My body struggled with the dual sensations of pleasure and resistance I felt against him. My natural response was to tighten my legs, but they were open wide around his hips.

  His hand slowly moved against my belly, gripped the waistband of my panties, slid down inside of them and reached my furry pelt. He played with my pubic hair, tugging gently and twisting it in his fingers. His eyes never left mine.

  "I'm going to open the nest of your wet curls and feel the soft lips that so carefully protect you. I'll circle the opening of your vagina with my finger until I feel the tremble between your legs and with the other I'll work your clitoris."

  My head went back.

  "Look at me," he ordered gently.

  I forced my eyes open.

  "I'm going to slide my finger through the split of your body so I can feel the part of you I know is moist and ready for me. Your pubic hair is so silky and wet. Can you feel how your body prepared for me so naturally? You had no decision or control, your vagina moistened with only the expectation of my desire."

  His fingers gently pushed my lips apart and caressed my labia, the delicate softness revealed only when my legs opened. He found my garden and began stroking my inner desire. Feeling him play with the opening to my secret areas was almost too much to bear—almost. In reality, it was a kind of bliss that I never thought I'd be able enjoy with another person.

  My legs loosened.

  I opened to let him feel me the way he wanted.

  His finger slid easily over the liquid heat of my pleasure.

  My excitement mounted quickly.

  When he pinched shut my outer folds, the moisture between them trickled down to my buttocks and inner thighs.

  I moaned.

  He twirled his finger around my opening, sliding along my swollen, hidden place, the soft little spot that had been tucked away so carefully. Ryan changed the gentle stream that flowed inside me into a waterfall of wonder.

  “You’re ready for me," he breathed heavily. "Do you understand what I mean?”

  I nodded.

  “Nicky?”

  “Uhhh,” I moaned and then closed my eyes.

  “Look at me, sweetheart.”

  I opened my eyes and found intimacy.

  He had me.

  I couldn't know that being so completely vulnerable with another person was real. I'd fought against it. Now? I welcomed it. His finger was at the opening to my core, the pad of his thumb stirring my clitoris into frenzy. Although I was afraid, another part of me felt complete as if being in his arms was meant for me.

  At least for one night, I trusted him.

  It was a golden moment.

  We whispered without words and fell into another world and what we could be for each other.

  “I love you, Nicky.” My sensitive pearl hardened against his finger as he slid over it. “Don’t be afraid. I love you.” His finger slipped back and forth, provoking, urging, making my hips want nothing more than to move and adjust, directing his touch. A new kind of pleasure waited, coiled tight and deep in my belly. I hungered for its release.

  My pelvis rose, wanting to meet his body. Every resistance disappeared. I stopped questioning our evening, our togetherness, and the man loving me.

  “Nicky, you’re so . . . mmm . . . baby, so . . . tender.” His body tightened. The veins in his neck throbbed, as if trying to gain impossible control of his urges. “My finger is circling the opening of your soft, warm, vagina. Your womanly body so carefully protects her. I’m deep into our first time together, imagining you’ve completely opened yourself to me. I want to feel the liquid you've coated yourself with on my penis, and the way it makes the entrance to your body smooth and easy for me. My semen is spilling over and I'm wet and glistening in anticipation. Are you ready to experience my love?"

  "Yes!" I answered with all the strength I had left.

  "It's like I've dipped my body into a new universe, my wish has been granted, and I'm swirling the stars with my finger. Tell me. Tell me you want my finger, my hands, my mouth . . . all the urges that were ever thrust into my loins to be on the intimate parts of your body.”

  “Yes.” I mouthed softly. I grabbed his sides and pulled him down. “Yes.”

  “I’m yours." He pressed hard on my wet, aching spot.

  I could hear his every breath. All the little sounds in his throat and chest were music. My hips rose up to meet him, arching and rocking to get closer. My stomach jerked, screamed, announcing, I’m open, I feel you, and Yes! I’m yours!

  Every consciousness and control I ever had, abandoned me.

  Desire rolled in crescendos.

  I started to climax.

  “Aaaahhh . . .” A yearning like I’d never felt before pushed into the air, drifted up and made its own song as I came into orgasm.

  Blooming and alive, there was no stopping my natural responses. The blood rushed down, first filling and engorging my belly and then flowing between and down each of my legs.

  My river had rushed to her ocean.

  “Let my body and heart love you," he exhaled the words.

  I whimpered

  He kept the pressure of his finger on my body, his skilled motion polishing me, while his belly pressed against mine, moving in rhythms. My body fought to push through the unbearable seduction of the man on top of me, wanting only the freedom to open wider, shouting for the joy I had experienced. I broke jaggedly into his arms, his torso and thighs, calling out in a new language, approving of what he’d done.

  My spasms ceased. A new rawness settled in. The entire area of my opening and clitoris felt as if it was on the edge of hurt. The sensation of Ryan's continued devotion to my wet little bump made me rise and fall dramatically and in a kind of tender pain.

  “Okay, Ryan.” It was like having too much, but he kept moving his finger on me. “Ooh, I . . .” I wanted him to stop. It was as if my body’s strings were plucked everywhere and too many tunes were playing all at once. My legs and belly were sensitive. Even the air around me felt heavy.

  “I want you to know what you taste like.” He finally pulled his finger from my swollen lips, slid it from my panties, and opened my mouth so I could taste the fluid my body had made. He put the same finger into his mouth, closed his eyes and sucked on it. “Mmm, I can’t wait to taste more of you.”

  All I wanted to do was collapse into the sofa. With my energy drained, I felt soft and lush, as if I was sinking deep into billowy clouds. Just as I was falli
ng into my sated, dreamlike state, Ryan slipped his hand inside the waistband of my panties again.

  “Oh . . . please . . . no . . ." I gripped his thick forearm. "I’m—” I desperately tried to hold his arm from going any farther but he was too strong to hold back.

  “You’ll be ready again." I felt the muscles in his arm tighten. “I know you’re tender. This time I’ll move your beautiful orchid more carefully. Relax for me.”

  When he kissed my lips, his chest, arms and stomach connected everywhere with my body. He had me at the place he wanted. Once more, the pad of his thumb began shining my diamond, while he left one finger at my opening.

  It was completely still.

  I could feel my core tightening and pulsing.

  “What . . ." I gasped, needing to understand. "What are you doing?”

  “I need to feel your vagina so I can understand the way you move. I want to sense the way you clench and grab at my finger when you get excited. Feeling your softness, your moist walls squeezing me—I want that, Nicky. I need to feel the muscles in your inner thighs as they yearn to achieve the position that gives you the most intense orgasm. I have to sense your body in every way as it surrounds me so I know how to make love to you.”

  My head didn’t have to tell me what was happening. Ryan’s delectable and criminal smile let me know. That night, he was the captain of my body. I gave myself over to the way he wanted to chart his course. His finger drew magical colors.

  As my body gathered and sparkled, readying for my second orgasm, I wondered how surrounding his penis would feel—for both of us.

  Chapter 31

  Finger Food And Off To Bed

  Spellbound, unable to speak or move while under Ryan’s touch, my basic need responded in every way. The deepest recesses of my feminine body felt like it was full.

  I moaned gloriously as he played with the spot he had just brought to life. As much as I resented him having so much of it, I knew I'd received these gifts because of his experience.

  Could I learn to appreciate that part of him instead of being fearful?

  All I knew is that it seemed as if a candle had lit inside of me. Its flame flickered upward, urgently reaching for more oxygen.

  While his mouth was still on mine, my sounds of pleasure, both soft and hard, loud and then hushed, escaped my body and released into exquisite musical notes. My vagina squeezed and my stomach tightened. I felt my uterus had contracted into a hard ball. Between the aching and the sensual, jagged spiking of my body, I began to understand the conflict of pain and pleasure during sex.

  Ryan braced himself on one elbow so he could move his hand with ease and the other flattened so he could feel my knotted belly. I heard him moan. I wondered what kinds of thoughts might be circling inside him. The next orgasm was even more intense.

  Ryan's familiarity with the places that brought me to life was like that of an artist who intently brushed a canvas he'd prepared and had come to know well. The imagination he brought into my world resulted in a blend of glowing, magnificent colors.

  “Uaahhhhh . . . ooh . . . I . . . Rrrryan!” Unrestrained joy came bursting out of me.

  My neck stiffened.

  My mouth opened wide.

  Desperate for his lips, barely touching, gaping open, the symphony of breaths from my mouth filled his. Sublime heat moved down as if I was a wishbone—through my pelvis, sizzling down my inner thighs and legs, finishing in the arches of my feet to the very tips of my toes.

  "Baby." Ryan groaned and collapsed on top of me as if he'd ejaculated. His body seemed exhausted.

  Seconds.

  Calming.

  Minutes.

  Long sighs.

  Deep breaths.

  “One day soon, you’ll want me to take all of you," he reminded, caressing my cheek.

  “Mm-hmm,” I mumbled.

  “How was that?” he whispered.

  “You know how it was.” I kept my eyes closed. “The advantage you have over me isn’t fair. You make me squiggle all over.”

  “Squiggle?” His voice was filled with suggestion. I knew by the way it dipped low he understood how excited he'd made me.

  I placed my hands on the back of his head.

  Brought him down to my lips.

  Kissed his soft mouth.

  Needed it.

  Had to . . . as hard as I could.

  Delicious.

  I fell back into his sofa.

  Finally relaxed.

  Ryan took his finger out of my moistness and put it in his mouth.

  “What a succulent dessert you are.” He closed his eyes.

  Just be quiet, Nicky. The more you talk, the more trouble you'll invite. On the other hand, do I want more of his kind of trouble?

  “Let’s go to bed. Now that you’re relaxed you can squiggle more.” He smacked his lips. "On top of me would be fine."

  “Give me a minute,” I begged.

  I didn’t want to move.

  My body had emptied.

  I wanted to lie in peace after the blood rushed down hard, away from my brain, leaving me weak.

  Beautiful exhaustion held me captive.

  I didn't care my breasts were naked and displayed to him.

  My arms were lifeless and rested loosely above my head.

  Just as I was coming out of my numbed brain, I felt his muscular arms take me inside them. It was enough to stop my heart. When I opened my eyes I thought I might see the devil’s tail he so skillfully used, circling above me and ready to strike.

  To my surprise, I found his gentle smile.

  “I’ve pictured carrying you into my bedroom for more than a year." His eyes were fixed on mine.

  I let him take me inside his vision.

  Can he feel my body trembling?

  When he lay me down on his king-size bed, the covers had already been pulled down.

  Holy God, I’m in his bedroom—in his bed!

  The way I felt in his arms, the way he looked into my eyes, tucking me away safely . . . it was as if love itself had carried me. The intimacy I had dreamed of and had always hoped for now seemed possible. It was lovely, lovely, lovely.

  “God, Ryan, I could have made it on my own.”

  “I know, but . . .” He walked to the other side of the bed.

  “But what?”

  “You’re my blossoming flower and I couldn’t resist the opportunity. Looking at your body filled with pleasure because of what I did . . . I’m caught in your net.”

  My net?

  He began taking off his clothes.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I can’t sleep in pajamas.” His corner-of-the-mouth grin reflected the mischief circling inside of him.

  “You slept in your sweats in my bedroom,” I reminded him, feeling the blush on my cheeks.

  “Yeah, well . . . I had to be a good boy then.” He turned to walk into the bathroom. “I’m going to brush my teeth. I have an extra toothbrush if you want it.”

  Why does he have an extra toothbrush? Is it for other women?

  “You go ahead.” I was still dizzy. “I’ll be right back.” I went into the living room to put on the T-shirt he’d previously taken off me and then returned to his bedroom.

  I can’t get over it—I’m going to share a man’s bed.

  When I walked into the bathroom, I couldn’t help but look at his naked body. I was overcome with the power that lay just beneath his skin simply watching him stand in front of the sink. His shoulders were broad, and his back curved beautifully into his buttocks. His firm behind looked like two rounded shelves, waiting only for my hand to caress them. I giggled silently at the thought of keeping my trinkets there. Of course, his erection was something I couldn’t help but notice.

  I walked by him quickly, aware of feeling and wanting too much too soon. I grabbed the soap and lathered my face so I wouldn’t have to look at him any longer.

  “That T-shirt?” His voice probed my belly.

  “Yeah?” I co
ntinued washing my face.

  “It isn’t safe.”

  My knees . . .

  “I’ll be a minute.” I held the luxurious towel against my cheeks and patted them dry.

  “Can I help?” He wore a shit-eating grin.

  “No. God, Ryan.”

  I closed and locked the door.

  I was soaked between my legs. My underwear was completely wet, and I wanted to examine everything.

  Chapter 32

  Jam For Jelly

  What the hell is all this? It’s like . . . jelly! It’s milky. Oh, God is this normal? What if I’m a freak? I need to wash off my underwear and hide them. Damn, lying next to him without my panties on . . . I hope we’re going to sleep.

  There were some washcloths in a basket on the counter, so I used one of them. After I wiped off, I panicked.

  Where was I going to put it?

  I didn’t want to ask Ryan where his dirty laundry went.

  I opened the door carefully and tried to sneak out of the bathroom. I planned to put both the washcloth and my panties in my backpack. Holding them behind me, I was one step out of the bathroom door when I saw Ryan on the bed.

  “You okay?” He lay on his side watching me, his arms hugging a pillow. It was easy to imagine being underneath him. His smile sent waves of breathlessness through my chest.

  “Yeah, I just need something in my backpack." My hands shook.

  “Like what?” His voice made my throat tighten.

  “I need . . . um . . . a pen.” I couldn’t think fast enough. My brain wasn’t functioning at one hundred percent yet.

  “A pen?” He cracked up. “You’re going to write on what . . . toilet paper?”

  “God, Ryan, must you know everything? I’m going to take this washcloth home and clean it. Please don’t ask me anything else.”

  “There’s a laundry room with a hamper to the left of the guest bath,” he nodded. “Behind the green shuttered doors. Do you want me to show you?” He had a playful smile.

  “No.”

  I walked out of his bedroom and found the hamper. There was nothing inside. I didn’t want my washcloth to be the only item in there for his poor housekeeper. Folded on the shelves above the washer and dryer was a stack of clean towels. I wrapped the washcloth and my underwear inside one of them and tucked the package inside my backpack with my bra, which Ryan had earlier tossed across the room.