by Holly Hart
Harlan’s fingers stop brushing at his front.
“Do I?” He grins. “What the hell do you think?”
I knew it!
“So where is it, cowboy?” I ask, biting my bottom lip seductively. “Because I’m in a mood to play dress-up…”
“Where the hell do you think,” Harlan grins confidently right back, “my bedroom.”
“Presumptuous,” I say. “But I like your attitude. Say, since this is my first time here – exactly which one is your bedroom?”
“The third one down on the left.”
“See you in ten.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Skye
I step out of Harlan’s apartment’s bathroom, nervous butterflies doing backflips in my stomach. I’m wearing a white silk satin slip – and nothing else. It feels gorgeous on my skin, like a lover bathing my body in kisses.
Still, I feel awkward as all hell.
I’ve got all these horrible fears running through my mind; fears that I know are baseless – fears that I know are nothing more than figments of my overactive imagination.
I half expect Harlan to laugh at me, to call me ugly, and to send me packing.
Do all girls think like this, or is it just me?
But Harlan does none of those things. I knew he never would.
Instead, he just looks at me dumbstruck. He sucks air in through his teeth, and his eyes open wide. When he finally regains the ability to speak, he just shakes his head.
“Jesus, Skye,” he says in a voice that’s stolen of air. “Where the hell did you find that?”
I stand on one leg, the toes of my other foot circling the floor nervously. “You like it?” I say, turning only half of my body towards Harlan.
He takes a pace towards me, eyes aflame with desire. I start to wonder whether he’ll stop at all, he looks like he’s prepared to take me right here, right now, and fuck me up against the nearest wall.
I kind of hope he does.
“Like it, Skye?” He growls, tipping his head back in astonishment. “Hell, I love it! I just never–”
He cuts himself short, but I pick up the slack. I know exactly what he was going to say, and I don’t blame him. Hell, I’ve even surprised myself.
“You never thought you’d catch me in something like this, did you?” I say with a wry smile.
Harlan rocks backwards. “I didn’t mean it like –”
I grin coyly. “I’m just messing with you. I know you didn’t. I mean, there was a reason I found it in that closet. Now – are you going to kiss me, or are you just going to stand there like a lemming all day?”
Harlan’s throat makes an inarticulate growl all of its own accord. It’s a sound that sends shivers running down my spine. It’s a sound that awakens an animal part of me. It’s a cry of desire, nothing more, nothing less.
It’s brutal and honest, and it makes me want to jump Harlan’s bones.
“Well,” Harlan says, stepping towards me and biting his lower lip, “when you put it like that, how can I say no?”
He takes me in his arms, looping his right hand around my waist and pulling me towards him. His lips meet mine, and then we’re kissing like we never have before.
I’ve said it a hundred times, and every time is true.
This time is different.
Harlan’s different.
I’m different.
Because this time, I know exactly what I’ve been missing out on all these years. I know what it’s like to be taken to the verge of orgasm … and then thrown headlong over the edge.
And hell, Harlan makes a girl feel like Niagara Falls. I can’t possibly believe that there’s another man in the world with a cock the size of his – and if there is, that guy surely wouldn’t know how to use it nearly as well.
Speaking of Harlan’s, uh, appendage – I feel it poking into me, making his presence known right through his military battle pants.
“Made a friend?” I giggle.
“Huh?” Harlan growls. Then he looks down sheepishly at our guest.
“Shit,” he says. “I swear, I haven’t been like this since I was a teenager. Men my age aren’t supposed to have hormones pumping through them all day, you know?”
“You’re saying I’m so hot I’m putting you through puberty all over again?”
Harlan shrugs, and pulls me in for another kiss. “Hell if I know,” he growls, “but as long as Mr. Wolfe down there is game to go five times a day, I sure as hell am.”
I hike my eyebrow up. “Only five?” I giggle. “I expected more from the –” my eyes dart to Harlan’s bulging crotch … “Magnificent Mr. Wolfe…”
Harlan shakes his head, a stunned smile on his face. I like to think it’s there because he doesn’t know how he managed to get so lucky.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for, Skye,” he whispers into my ear, nibbling at my earlobe.
“Oh,” I gasp, opening up my neck as Harlan layers it with kisses. “I think I do…”
Then things start to move faster and faster.
Harlan’s hands roam across my body. He doesn’t leave a square inch untouched. His fingers attack me like he thinks I might go out of fashion, as if he thinks I might just disappear.
But I’m not going anywhere.
Thanks to the satin nightie, there isn’t much of my body that’s not on display. Harlan pays attention to it all.
Little more than a lace thong separates my soaking wet slit from Harlan’s probing fingers, and he grinds his palm against my crotch. I tip my head back, and a little cry of pleasure escapes my lips.
“You know,” he growls, whispering into my ear a message that’s meant for me and me alone. “I like it when you play dress-up for me.”
“Me too,” I whisper back, panting from his attentions.
“Now let’s see if you like sucking my cock,” he says, burying his fingers in my hair and pushing me down.
I don’t resist. It’s all I’ve been thinking about all day – the touch of his skin on my body, the feel of that burning hot organ in my mouth, the taste as he –
“You’re going to come for me,” I say wickedly. “No more holding out.”
“You know, Skye,” Harlan says, looking down at me as I sink to my knees. “I like you more and more every day.”
I bury my outrage at the idea that he didn’t just like me from the start by unzipping his pants, letting them fall to his ankles. For once, Harlan’s wearing underwear. It barely contains his enormous cock, which is pushing against the material, begging to be freed.
I look up with a raised eyebrow.
“What?” He shrugs back. “You go to war, you protect it all, okay?”
I grin. “Poor baby…”
“There’s nothing poor about me…” Harlan winks.
I roll my eyes. “Someone’s getting cocky,” I mutter, rolling my eyes further as I notice the accidental pun.
And then I can’t resist any longer. I drag Harlan’s boxer briefs down, not bothering to make sure they fall to his ankles. I only care about what lies underneath – his gorgeous, massive, magnificent cock.
“It’s so fucking big,” I whisper, my breath taken away.
“I bet you say that to all the guys.”
I shake my head, and I’m so close to my lover’s cock, my hair strokes his burning skin. He shivers.
“You know me,” I lie. “I get around.”
And then I’m done talking.
I take Harlan’s cock in my mouth, swirling the tip with my tongue. He tastes clean and fresh. But there’s still a hint of his natural musk, the smell the draws me in – the strange, almost spicy aroma that calls out to me every time I’m anywhere close to him.
“When did you get so good–” Harlan mutters, cutting himself off as I scrape my fingernails up the back of his thighs, making him shiver with delight.
I guess I just read enough books on sex in all those years when I wasn’t getting any.
Harlan trembles as I ta
ke his cock as deep into my mouth as it will go. I relax for a second, then swallow a little more. I wish I could look up at the same time, and look at the effects my attentions are having on Harlan’s face.
I bet his eyes are closed. I bet he’s lost in amazement, in astonishment, and in wonder.
“Enough,” he growls, pulling my hair and tugging me away from his cock. I moan with disappointment – I was just getting to the good bit. There’s something about the taste of Harlan’s come that has been calling to me ever since I met him.
“Why?” I pant, catching my breath. Those little voices start up in my head again – was I not good enough? Did I do something wrong?
Then Harlan sweeps them all away.
“Because I’m going to fuck you, of course,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world.
I guess to him, it is. He looks at me with burning desire in those ice cold eyes – hot enough I half expect them to melt like icicles in the springtime sun. And the look in those eyes sets me on fire as well.
Harlan stokes the flames of desire inside me just by looking at me. He jerks his head at the bed. “Get on.”
I do as I’m told, but I can’t help it. I try to stifle a giggle.
“What?” Harlan protests.
“You look ridiculous,” I laugh.
Harlan really does. He’s still got his boxers around his thighs, and his combat pants tangled around his ankles.
Luckily, Harlan doesn’t take offense.
“I guess it’s time for you to get to work, then,” he says, offering me the world.
I don’t need him to ask twice.
I drag him towards the bed by his vest, then throw him down. He almost trips on his pants in the process.
“I suppose I’ve got to take off your shoes as well, do I?” I say, giggling at the sight of Harlan lying on his back, his cock standing ramrod straight.
Harlan shrugs, an action that only tents his jacket around his shoulders. “I don’t care,” he says mischievously. “I’d fuck you standing up, lying down, with shoes on, or off. It doesn’t matter a bit to me.”
My eyes widen. “How romantic of you.”
“What can I say? I try.”
I busy my fingers with Harlan’s laces, and then one shoe then the other lands with a thump somewhere on the floor. I don’t care where, as long as he’s not wearing them.
His combat pants are the next to go, and then his boxers.
“Are you just going to lie there?” I grumble, eyeing his magnificently straight package with admiration, “or are you planning to help anytime soon?”
Harlan shakes his head as if to wake himself from a particularly enjoyable dream. “I guess,” he says unwillingly, tearing his eyes away from my lingerie-clad body. Nevertheless, his fingers finally begin to tangle with the straps of his combat vest.
I roll off Harlan’s body, kissing the tip of his cock as I pass. I sit, kneeling over him, legs spread wide, and stroke his cock with my ass.
“Jesus, Skye,” Harlan groans, “it’s hard to believe you’re new to all this. You’re a fucking pro.”
“What can I say? I’m a quick learner.”
It’s true, I am. Also, I’m a more than willing student, especially when I’ve got a master like Harlan teaching me.
I kiss Harlan’s flat, toned belly as he finally loosens his shirt. I lay a trail of kisses up his body, then his neck, until I meet him at his lips.
“Finally…” I tease.
Harlan leans forward, clasping his fingers loosely around my neck. “Enough talk,” he says. “It’s time to find out if your pussy can cash these checks your mouth has been writing.”
My eyes spring open wide as Harlan’s fingers tighten around my neck. It’s a fucking turn on. I never knew that I would be into rough play like this.
Harlan pushes me roughly down onto his cock. My pussy’s dripping wet – but even so, Harlan’s massive length and girth is difficult to take. He’s bigger than any man I’ve ever been with – by an order of magnitude, even.
I don’t really know what that means, but it fits.
Unlike Harlan’s cock…
“Go slow,” I whimper as Harlan’s hips buck up beneath me. “You’re too big…”
He does as I ask. But it doesn’t take long before my pussy’s crying out for more. Harlan stretches me – but it’s a good kind of stretch. It hurts, but it also sends fireworks shooting up and down my body.
I relax, taking another inch, and then another. And then Harlan’s full length is inside me. I sink onto it, and my ass cheeks meet his thighs. It’s hard to believe that something so big can fit inside me … and yet it does.
His cock feels like it was always meant to be there.
“Still want me to go slow?” Harlan growls.
I shake my head.
“Say it!” Harlan orders me, his voice rough. I can hear the desire, the tantalizing closeness in his tone. It sends me into a spasm of want, of need.
“Fuck me,” I beg Harlan. “Fuck me and don’t stop.”
“Is that all?” He teases.
I shake my head, because I’m not done. I start speaking, saying things I didn’t know I had inside me. “I want to be your little slut,” I say.
“I want you to fuck me until I come, and then I want you to screw me some more. I don’t want you to stop until I stop moaning, and even then, check!”
“Now that,” Harlan says with an approving rumble in his throat, “I can do. Hell – I’ll get right on it.”
He grasps me by the hips, digging his fingernails into my soft skin. The spike of pain is unexpected – but delicious. I press my hips into him, and my mouth forms an O with the pleasure it causes.
Harlan starts to fuck me, thrusting his huge cock in and out. He goes slow at first, making sure I can take it. But the second he realizes that I can – that I can take every inch he thrusts into me, then more – he starts to speed up.
His pants and my moans form a soundtrack to a sweaty, wild, excessive session of making love. My ass cheeks slap against the top of his thighs, and every time they do, my skin shivers with pleasure.
“Harder!” I moan.
Harlan obliges. Harlan always obliges.
“Spin round,” he orders me.
I look down at him, kinking an eyebrow at first – betraying my inexperience. “What?”
“Spin,” he repeats, roughly. “I want to slap your ass.”
Oh, hell yes.
If this is what my sex life with Harlan is like now, when we’ve barely screwed half a dozen times, what’s it going to be like in a year’s time? I dread to think. Hell – there’s no dread involved.
I’m desperate to find out.
I spin on Harlan’s cock. Reverse cowgirl, I think, scrunching up my face as I wonder where I heard that term. Probably some girly magazine full of sex tips…
And then the time for thinking is over. The second I’m facing away from Harlan, he slaps my ass. The sound of the crack echoes around the room.
“Ouch!” I yelp, shocked by the mingled feelings of pleasure and pain that flood through my body. “Do it again…”
Harlan obliges, because Harlan always fucking obliges. He’s a slave to me in exactly the same way as I’m a slave to him. I’d do anything for him, and he’s the same way.
Harlan spanks me again, then thrusts into me faster and faster. He slaps me again, and again, until I think my ass must be red raw. And I love it.
“On your hands and knees, slut,” Harlan grunts after a couple more long minutes of desperate, sheet clenching pleasure. “I’m so close.”
Harlan gets up – kneeling, and grabs my hips, pulling me back against his cock.
Doggie style, I think. This is definitely –
SLAP!
“Oh my God,” I whimper as the first inklings of an orgasm vibrates through me. “God, your cock feels so good.”
I don’t know what happened to the old Skye – the prim and proper girl who barely had se
x and definitely couldn’t come – because the girl who replaced her is a dirty, filthy whore.
And I say that in the best possible way, because I love the new me!
“Clench your pussy,” Harlan growls. “It’ll send you over the edge.”
And you as well, I think, grinning with no malice.
But I do exactly as Harlan asks, because I know he’s right. I clench my pussy around Harlan’s thrusting cock, and suddenly everything turns up a notch. Every sensation is magnified, every flash of pleasure redoubled.
“Oh God, Harlan,” I moan. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, I think –”
I’m going to come…
Harlan groans underneath me as he struggles to thrust in and out as my pussy clenches around his cock like a steel vise.
“Jesus, Skye, you feel so fucking–”
Then I don’t hear anything more. Harlan spanks my ass one last time, and it’s like lighting the fuse that sets off the fireworks on New Year’s Eve. My orgasm hits me with the power of a thousand suns all exploding at once.
I don’t hear anything, can’t see anything, can barely feel anything other than nerve endings exploding all around my body. My nipples feel like balls of fire, and Harlan’s heat inside me continues burning, with a delicious, possessive ferocity.
Slowly the world comes back to me. I look over my shoulder, desperate to see my lover’s face. He’s lying there, looking shattered, exhausted and awed from the pleasure that just came over him. But he’s mine. He’s all mine.
I’m never giving him up.
Harlan opens his eyes and winks at me.
“I told you it would be worth it…”
Epilogue – Skye
Five weeks later
I can’t believe this is my life now. How did this happen? A few weeks ago, I was just little old Skye Warren – an ordinary girl, living an ordinary life – with, however, an extraordinary problem.
All of that has now changed.
Heck, the only ordinary thing left about me is that I actually can orgasm now, and I do – as often, as powerfully, and in as close proximity to the previous wave of pleasure that wracked through my body as I can arrange.
