by Monica James
I can’t get close enough to Quinn fast enough, and as I’m pawing at him, in desperate need to consume him whole, it’s still not enough. I drive my eager hands under his t-shirt, pulling his hips toward me so I’m rubbing up against him like a cat in heat.
I can’t stop.
And neither can Quinn as his hands and mouth are seeking out every part of me. His hoop bites into my lip, and I moan, loving the pain. His hand is braced on the back of my head, controlling the intensity of the kiss, and I happily comply, as there’s nothing I want more than this.
His other hand slips under my shirt, and I gasp at the skin to skin contact. As his fingers trail up my torso, stopping at my right breast, he matches the rhythm of his mouth to complement the delicious way his fingers begin rubbing over my nipple feverishly.
I’m squirming under his hand, my nipple pebbling into a tight peak, wishing he would touch it in the flesh. He reads me like a book as he slips his hand under, pushing the cup aside, tugging on the bud softly.
I cry out, my lips coming off of Quinn’s as I lean back, angling my body, which bucks as he pinches and rolls my nipple until I’m sore and achy. The pain steadily begins throbbing between my legs as he places long, wet kisses down my throat, sucking over my pounding pulse. I feel hot and needy, and I want, no, I need a release.
I need it before I explode.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get you off,” he whispers against my throat, and his words have me virtually plummeting to the ground.
I can feel his huge arousal pressing against my leg, and that makes me all the needier. I slowly slip my hand out between us, and timidly touch over his jeans, rubbing the impressive bulge softly.
Quinn’s fingers still from plucking my nipple into a permanent peak and he groans, leaning his head forward, his long hair brushing my cheeks.
“That feels amazing,” he pants as I start to gain a little more confidence, and begin rubbing a little harder.
I want more than anything to do to him what he does to me when he places his hands on me… down there. But I don’t know how.
“Show me,” I whisper, rubbing faster and faster over his erection.
His fingers match my speed, and we’re both moaning and bucking against one another. His heated eyes focus on mine, and he bites his lip ring as I roll my thumb over the tip of him.
“I will. But you first,” he says, slipping out of my hold and removing his fingers from the inside of my bra.
I whimper, but that transforms into a groan as one big hand braces onto my hip, while the other flicks open the top button of my jeans, slipping into the front of my pants. His hand stills when he feels I have no underwear on.
He cocks an eyebrow at me. “Oh, Red… you’re a bad, bad girl.”
I moan louder as he curls a finger inside of me, sliding in with no difficulty as I’m wetter than I have ever been before.
With my tight-fitting jeans, Quinn has limited space to work with, but boy, does he make it work. I’m shamefully riding his hand as he inserts another finger, his thumb rubbing over my swollen bud, and I scream, about to come.
Bracing my hand on his shoulder, unable to hold myself up, Quinn chuckles, all too aware of the power he has over my body.
“Not yet,” he purrs, slowing down the tempo of his fingers, his thumb lessening the pressure, knowing how close I am.
I whimper, wanting nothing more than to let go, but Quinn has something up his sleeve. I can see it in the way his mouth tips into a sultry smile as I call out his name.
“I want you in my mouth when you do,” he whispers, his eyes pinning me with his words.
I am too far gone to blush or shy away, because I want it. I want it so bad my fingers grasp my zipper, about to finish the job myself. However, as my fingers are halfway down, unfastening my zipper, Quinn stops me.
I moan, as I’m desperate to get my pants off before I burst into flames.
“Take your jeans and shirt off,” he says, kissing my sweaty forehead, taking a step away from me.
I know it’s a simple request, but it’s one that has my heart galloping wildly. I attempt to reach down to untie my boots, but Quinn shakes his head.
“Leave the boots. Just the jeans and shirt.”
My eyes widen, unsure why he’s requesting this, but by the heated look in his eyes, I know I’m going to like whatever he has planned.
Shyly fumbling with the hem of my t-shirt, I quickly yank it off over my head, only standing in my lacy bra and jeans, which are sitting dangerously low on my hips.
My hands awkwardly hang by my sides, anxious to cover my sudden bareness. But I don’t because as Quinn’s eyes drown in a pool of inky black, I know his response is elicited because of me. And I like it. So, I stand bravely, meeting his look of molten desire, my deep breathing the only betrayal of my nervousness.
Quinn’s tongue darts out to wet his lower lip, and my breath hitches, knowing what that tongue can do to my body.
“Jeans,” he simply says, pointing to my legs.
Why is he just standing there and staring? This would be a lot easier if he did it himself. And if there wasn’t so much light.
Quinn can see me mull over his request, so he slowly reaches to his left, flipping off the light. The room is shrouded in partial darkness, and the only glow which illuminates the room is from the stars, which are shining brightly in the New Orleans sky. And it’s simply beautiful.
As I unzip my pants, the sound is amplified in the huge room, making me feel more anxious than I already am. My clumsy fingers fumble as I slowly glide my jeans down my legs, and I ensure my eyes never leave Quinn’s as they reach the floor. They are tight fitting and it’s a struggle, but I manage to get them past my boots without having to take them off.
I kick them onto the floor and shyly stand at full height, totally bare to Quinn’s heated stare. I feel nervous, but I also feel excited. However, I’m grateful the lights have been switched off, because even in the darkness, I can see the hunger in Quinn’s eyes. Those eyes, which are fixated on my naked core.
I shift my legs, attempting to conceal myself, but Quinn stops me by taking a step toward me. “You’re the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” he whispers, his eyes never leaving mine.
A beam of soft light reflects off his face, highlighting the aroused look rocking his chiseled features as he scans down my body. “Hands above your head,” he demands softly. “Hold onto the railing.”
I didn’t even notice a silver railing above my head, but as I tilt my chin to look at it, it looks like some kind of suave coat hanger which resembles a towel rack. I don’t know why he’s asking me to do this, but I nervously obey, my heart pounding with each movement. The metal feels cool as I slip my palms under the bar, holding on tight. It’s a welcomed feeling because I’m burning up from head to toe.
“Spread your legs,” Quinn whispers as he drops to his knees in front of me.
“W-what are you doing?” I stumble over my words as my tongue is sticking to the roof of my mouth.
“Worshiping a Siren,” he replies, looking up at me, his hair slipping over one perfect brow.
My breath hitches, and as the air brushes over my drenched core when I slowly spread my legs wider, I shiver in absolute desire, knowing that he means every word.
As he leans forward, his face is inches away from my center, and he leisurely inhales, sucking on his lip ring. I automatically attempt to shut my legs, embarrassed, but also a little turned on by his desire.
“Nah nah,” he scolds lightly, catching his hands on my inner thighs to stop them from moving an inch.
I peer down at him, and the sight before me sends my unstable legs drooping forward. Thankfully I’m holding myself up, otherwise, I would have crumbled into a messy mound.
Quinn’s hands glide up my legs and slowly wrap around to my ass, cupping each cheek firmly into his strong palms. As he squeezes tightly, my insides involuntarily clench, and my stomach ripples in excitement.
; This sight of Quinn on his knees before me, looking up at me as he worships my body, is a sight I will never forget. Nor will I ever forget the feel of Quinn lowering his mouth onto me and licking my entrance in one long, agonizing lick.
I jerk under his mouth, as he doesn’t give my shaky legs a minute to steady as he pushes my ass forward, giving him deeper access to his probing tongue. A moan leaves my parted lips as my head drops back and my eyes slip shut, my long, loose hair tickling my back.
His skillful tongue is twirling inside of me, ensuring every part of me is thoroughly explored. I moan, whimper, and groan, but it still provides me with no comfort, as Quinn is holding my body prisoner with no intention of ever letting it go.
He softly nips at my bud, and as I buckle, I suddenly understand why Quinn requested me to stand here. I’m able to hold myself up when pleasure overcomes me, and my legs are about to give out at any moment.
As he flicks his tongue back and forth over my center, I hold on for dear life. I never thought I could feel sexy standing in just a bra and boots, but I do. I feel like a total Goddess.
“Holy fuck,” I gasp as Quinn buries his face deeper into my valley and begins thrusting his tongue in and out of my entrance.
His hands are still clutching my ass, and with each lick, each suck of me, his hands squeeze each cheek, revealing just how turned on he is. His rough stubble brushes over my folds, and I bite my lip, tasting blood. That feeling alone, combined with the satisfied noises coming from Quinn’s mouth, is enough to have me approaching a speedy release.
As he circles around my clit and strikes me with one hard flick, I loudly come undone, my body convulsing and almost collapsing, my spaghetti arms only just holding me up. I cry out when Quinn keeps his clever tongue inside of me, swallowing my ripples of pleasure, and suddenly he begins tonguing me again, my hyper-sensitive insides deliciously burning.
I scream, my head slamming against the wall time and time again, and my legs threaten to give out from under me as Quinn pulls his mouth away, replacing his tongue with two long fingers.
“Fuck,” I wheeze when I look down, watching the way his fingers are skillfully pumping in and out of me.
I’m turned on beyond belief by the visual, but my legs give out when a sliver of light catches off Quinn’s face and I see my juices coating his swollen lips. I collapse, but Quinn wraps a strong hand around my waist, steadying me. His other hand never misses a beat as he fingers me relentlessly.
My arms have pins and needles from keeping them clutched above my head, but that’s the only thing holding me up, as my legs are about to buckle. Quinn senses my fatigue, and removes his fingers from deep within.
I protest with a sigh and he chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. Wrap your legs around my shoulders.”
I don’t question why and simply do it, and because he’s on his knees, I easily wrap both around him, my back leaning against the wall, my jelly legs sighing in relief. But that relief turns into want as Quinn places a hand under my ass, the other at my waist, angling me at a perfect height for his mouth and tongue.
I cry out louder than before as my tissues feel swollen and sore, but the pain is beyond pleasurable, it’s almost more heightened this time around. As he buries his face deeper than I thought humanly possible between my legs, I can’t help but think he’s going to work me over until I die, because this feeling is one of pure euphoria.
Squeezing my thighs tightly around him, I try not to strangle him as I cross my boots over his shoulders and arch backward, granting him deeper access to my needy core. I’m so close to yet another orgasm, I think I’m about ready to implode.
Quinn slows down his licks and pulls away, but is still inches away from my heat. “I want nothing more,” he whispers, his warm breath fanning over my flesh. “Than to bury myself inside of you,” and my heart picks up the pace, which surely can’t be healthy as it’s already racing.
“But when that happens—and it will happen, Red—I want you squirming underneath me, begging me to fuck you.”
I convulse, nearly coming at his dirty words, and I know that’s his intention.
“So for now, I’ll have you begging me for something else.” He lowers his face, continuing his assault.
But as he’s dancing over where I want him to be, I now understand what he means by having me beg. He’s in no real hurry as he lazily licks over my folds, waiting for my pleas.
I whimper as the ache between my legs is heightened with each stroke, and I can’t take it a second longer.
“Please,” I beg softly.
“Please what?” he murmurs against me.
“Please… make me,”
“Make you what?” he says, pulling away, looking up at me like an untamed beast.
I’m so needy, so my shyness is going to have to take a backseat. “Please make me come.”
Quinn growls, pulling on his lip ring before planting his head firmly between my legs and eating me out with an intensity so fierce, I cry out loudly, my chest burning in passion. But I can’t stop. My moans get louder and louder, and suddenly, tears of pleasure are burning my eyes. The bar above my head squeaks in protest as my fingers clench around it with all my might.
Quinn sucks on my clit, and then with the one simple command of, “Come,” I explode.
Every part of my body jerks and spasms, the aftershocks rocking my entire being violently, and if not for Quinn wrapping his hands around my waist, burying his head into my stomach to steady me, I would have fallen to the floor.
Finally after what seems like hours, my body calms, but every so often my muscles twitch, still coming down from a drug that isn’t manufactured, it’s pure.
It’s pure Quinn.
My whole body feels numb and floppy, and I allow Quinn to unwrap my legs from around his neck, as I have absolutely no muscle control.
He still has a firm grip around my waist as he rises, and I lean against him as he encourages my hands to let go of the bar above me. My arms are thankful, as my biceps feel like jelly. Quinn sweeps my sweaty hair off my brow and kisses my forehead, which has me closing my eyes, sleep about ready to overtake me.
But I snap them open as I realize I’m a selfish lover. I’m sure Quinn needs some kind of release, too. I sleepily reach down between us, hoping he’ll show me what to do, and for my foggy brain to catch up.
But Quinn stops me as he bends low, scooping me up, and cradling me to his chest.
“What are you doing?” I question groggily.
“Putting you to bed,” he replies as he strolls to our massive bed.
“But what about you?” I ask shyly, fighting for my eyes to stay open.
“Believe me—that was more for me than for you.”
“I seriously doubt it,” I reply, yawning.
Quinn chuckles as he pulls the blanket back, laying me onto the crisp white sheets. I then remember I still have my boots on and make a move to take them off. But Quinn is there first, placing one on his lap as he unties my laces.
“I can do that,” I say, flopping back onto the soft pillow, closing my eyes.
“I don’t mind,” he replies, slipping off one boot and working on the next.
“Thank you,” I mumble, sleep overtaking me.
“It’s okay, Red. I like taking care of you,” he whispers, bending forward and kissing my ankle softly.
I could so get used to this.
Chapter 13
First’s
I don’t want to get up.
I am so comfy, wrapped up like a burrito, but as I feel a pair of sinful lips brush over my cheek, they slip open, wanting to see the man before me.
“Do you ever sleep?” I mumble as his lips flutter over mine.
Quinn chuckles, kissing my chin. “I sleep enough. And besides, it’s hard getting a decent night’s sleep with you owning the bed.”
I blush, as this isn’t the first time he’s told me this. It’s hard sharing, especially when I have never had to before.
Quinn leans on his side, head propped up on his palm, looking down at me. “So, I was thinking…” He pauses, looking like he’s mulling over what to say next, which makes me nervous. “Will you go out with me?” he says on a rushed breath.
I nearly choke as the saliva collects in my throat, my bodily functions refusing to operate until I clarify what he means.
“Go… out with you?” I ask slowly, raising my eyebrows.
Quinn clears his throat, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s nervous. Well, there is a first time for everything.
“Yeah, like a date,” he says, making a pained face. “I sound like such an idiot.” He huffs, running a hand through his messy hair.
Laughing loudly and placing my hand against his cheek, I reply, “No, you don’t. You sound sweet.”
“Red, I think we’ve had the whole ‘sweet is not cool’ talk,” he smirks, leaning into my palm.
That makes me laugh harder, and all sense of awkwardness goes flying out the eighteenth story window.
“I’d love to go out on a date with you, Quinn Berkeley,” I say with a big smile, the words rolling off my tongue naturally.
“Yeah?” he says, his eyes lighting up.
“You bet your hot ass I do,” I reply, feeling like a giddy teenager because this is my first ever date.
I wouldn’t want to experience it with anyone other than Quinn.
“I just thought, after everything we’ve done”—my cheeks heat as the memories of last night come floating back—“that we skipped a step.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, confused. I’m so out of my element here.
“The whole dinner and flowers. You know, the datey kinda stuff,” he replies, shrugging, rolling his lip between his teeth.
“I thought you said you didn’t do flowers and romance,” I reply, referring back to our conversation all those weeks ago.
“I don’t. But you’re the exception to that rule,” he says, tracing my brow with his long finger.
My giddiness has just exploded, and I can’t keep the smile off my face.
“And besides, my mother would have given me an earful for not taking a nice girl like you out first, before I—” He pauses, tugging on his silver hoop. “Before I—” His eyes sweep the length of body heatedly.
