Stone Cold Knockout

by Lavender Parker

  “I am offended.” Mikhail said, already pouring himself another glass. “I will turn you into a vodka drinker. I guarantee.”

  “Wanna bet?” She raised an eyebrow.

  “Yes.” His eyes were amused over his drink.

  “Too bad.” She stuck out her tongue again and padded over to the record player. She thumbed through his collection, featuring mostly '50s and '60s bands and singers, finally stopping on a Johnny Cash record. Who didn't love Johnny Cash? She slid the big black disc out of the cardboard envelope. Remembering watching Big J play his records, Gennifer knew how to set up the record player and did so. The scratching of the needle against the record gave way to the opening mariachi horns of Ring of Fire. Johnny's grave voice soon filled the apartment, echoing in the half-empty space.

  Gennifer turned to face Mikhail. He stood stock-still in the kitchen, watching her. The amusement left his face as the song continued. The light mood in the apartment abruptly changed. As he stared at her, she felt shy again and anxious, as if the sex in the shower had never happened between them. Or like she was a virgin and no man had ever looked at her the way he was looking at her. Her skin positively tingled with the weight of his gaze. How was that possible? She ran her hand through her hair, attempting to calm her nerves. What was it about this man, she wondered. Why was he so different from everyone else she'd been with?

  He tilted his head toward the bedroom, wordlessly communicating an unspoken invitation, his eyes never leaving hers. He wanted her. She wanted him. She and Mikhail were caught up in their own bigger-than-life attraction, and she didn't know how or when it was going to end. Tonight was the only certainty. And tonight, he belonged to her.

  Chapter 10

  Mikhail set down his glass, watching Gennifer sway slightly to the music. As the song came to a close, he was already moving toward her. Seemingly reading his mind, Gennifer began undressing, rolling the straps of her green dress down her arms. He followed suit, pulling his shirt over his head. He kicked off his shoes as she dropped the dress to the floor. She stood before him in a black thong and nothing else. He was frozen for a moment, taking in her toned body, the soft indent of her waist, and her long black hair. His mind went blank and before he knew what he was doing, he was picking her up and carrying her to the bedroom. She wriggled in his arms, not helping her cause, as her breasts hit him in the face. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders when he sucked one of her dark nipples deep in his mouth, and flicked his tongue against the soft tip.

  “Misha!” she screamed, her voice bouncing off the walls. He laughed, losing his hold on her tit. He reached the bed and bent at the waist, plopping her sexy ass in the center of the mattress. She gasped, her lips parting, her big brown eyes looking up at him. Fuck. He was too far gone. He couldn't stop now, even if he wanted to. He leaned forward and kissed her, not able to resist gently biting her plump lower lip. She moaned into him, her hands immediately attacking his belt buckle. His fingers tangled in the thick strands of her hair as she freed his cock and closed her hand around him. Moaning against her mouth, he dipped his tongue in between her lips to taste her. The vodka on her breath only turned him on more, if that was possible.

  Gennifer's deft fingers stroked him. She sucked his tongue, in and out, and he could practically feel the movement on his cock. Her eyes were open, and she was watching him, her face determined as she worked him. He almost let himself go, but pulled free from her grasp with a chuckle. “Sorry, solnyshka,” he said, his voice strained. “Forfeit.”

  “You are a maniac,” she mumbled, her eyes clouded with lust.

  “Forfeit,” he said, challenging her. She cocked an eyebrow and laid back, all her smooth skin stretched out for his eyes only.

  “Fine. I give up,” she said, raising her arms above her head. She was offering herself to him, he realized. Giving herself to him. Adrenaline roared through his veins when he realized she was still challenging him. Challenging him to pleasure her. Challenging him to be the best lover she'd ever had. He was more than happy to accept that challenge. He hooked his fingers in the black lacy straps of her thong, sliding it down over her hips, inch by inch. She bit her luscious lower lip, watching him through her long dark lashes. He slid the bit of fabric down her legs, kissing the pad of her right foot. She let out a jagged breath, ready for him.

  Mikhail spread her thighs and dragged his gaze from her eyes to her pussy, admiring all of her. His cock swelled even more, but he was going to enjoy delaying his own satisfaction if it meant driving her crazy. He wanted her dripping and begging, thrashing and writhing. She shuddered as he stared at her, goosebumps breaking out over her body. He swept a hand across her breasts and tweaked a nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, until she tossed her head back and squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Oh!” she moaned, clamping her fingers around his wrist. Smiling, he smoothed his hand further down, tracing the dark tattoo of a bird in flight inked across her hip. She bucked her hips, a low sound escaping her lips.

  “I like,” he said, following the line of her tattoo down to the dark hair at the apex of her thighs. He wondered how his name would look tattooed on her ribs, or maybe on her ass? He smiled at the thought. Lifting her leg, he slid his finger between the lips of her pussy, finding her clit. She sucked her teeth, her eyelids fluttering.

  “I remember, you say you want me to ask permission,” he said, dipping his head. He trailed his tongue down the soft skin of her inner thigh, his finger tracing a slow circle around her clit. She squirmed against him and he couldn't resist a laugh. She was completely at his mercy and he loved it. He dipped his fingertip inside of her, flicking his tongue against her clit. “May I?” he sucked her in, then released her. He rubbed his cheek on her inner thigh, letting his hand wander up to her stomach.

  “Fuck yes!” she moaned, her fists clenching in the sheets.

  “I am not so sure.” He drummed his fingers against the soft skin under her bellybutton. “I do not know if you like what I do.”

  “You're an asshole,” she moaned, pushing herself up on her elbows to glare at him, a lock of hair falling across her face. Her face was flushed like she was feverish, but he knew better. She was mad for him, just like he wanted. Holding her eyes, he drew his tongue up her slick folds, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thighs. She let out a sharp breath and he felt her clench against him. He thrust his tongue deep, once, then twice. Then he withdrew, savoring her sweetness on his lips.

  “You want me to stop?” he teased. She dropped her head back between her shoulder blades and groaned in frustration. His eyes ran the length of her body again, claiming every inch of her brown skin. He noticed a light sheen of sweat in the valley between her full breasts, and he licked his lips, wanting to taste her there as well.

  “Mikhail,” she moaned, begging him to pleasure her. At that, his self-control snapped. He spread her wide and began fucking her with his tongue in earnest. She gushed around him as he devoured her. She dropped onto her back, bucking her hips and writhing against him. He pulled her against him in an iron grip, sucking her clit hard. She called out and he felt the sound all the way down his spine, into his balls. He was rock hard, his erection calling out for release. But he was lost in her, licking and sucking, losing all track of time as he pleasured her. She pushed herself up to sitting, raking her fingers over his back. She scooted her hips back and out of his grasp.

  “I want...” she trailed off into a moan. He yanked her hips again, bringing her pussy back to his mouth. She struggled again, pressing her heel to his shoulder and pushing. He growled, adrenaline flaring up. She was a fighter, but he was going to get her to submit. In a swift move, he knocked her back flat on the bed, pinning her wrists above her head.

  “What do you want?” he rasped.

  “I want to suck your cock,” she breathed, rolling her hips and pressing her wet pussy against his stomach. Lust burned through him like wildfire. She didn't get a chance to say it twice, although he would'v
e loved to hear the words again. He crushed his mouth against hers, grinding his hips into hers. She struggled against his hold, but he gripped her tighter. He was so turned on, if he didn't get inside her soon, he was going to spontaneously combust. All semblance of taking his time went out the window. When he couldn't hold back any longer, he pushed off the bed. He found a condom in his bedside table drawer, then stripped off the rest of his clothes. She moved quick, too fast. In the blink of an eye, she was on her knees at the end of the bed, his cock in her mouth.

  The heat and wet of her mouth caressed him and he felt his chin drop to his chest. Pleasure stabbed him through his guts. Blood thundered in his ears, and his eyes rolled back in his head. Fuck. Gennifer had him. He felt himself losing control. He wanted to come. His body ached for it. But he wasn't going to. As if she could read his mind, she released him from her sweet mouth. She looked up at him, breathing hard. Her lips parted, swollen and smudged with lipstick. Her thick hair flowed over her shoulders, curling above her breasts. She ran her fingers over his hard stomach, and his breath caught in his throat. He caressed the curve of her cheek, the possessive feeling rearing up in him again. In that moment, she was most beautiful—and the most terrifying—woman he'd ever seen. Terrifying because he knew she could be it. She could be the one to finally beat him.

  She took the condom from his hand and ripped open the packet. He clenched his jaw as she rolled the thin rubber over him. His cock was sensitive to her touch. Too sensitive. Not wasting any more time, he attacked, knocking her over on her back and angling himself against her. Holding his breath, he pushed the head of his cock inside her. She was so tight, he couldn't stop himself from thrusting deeper. He felt her body tighten around him, and he remembered that she might still be sore from the day before.

  “Good?” he asked, stilling. She opened her big dark eyes and looked up at him.

  “Go slow,” she breathed, and smiled when he obliged her, sliding deep inside, inch by inch. He felt it all, the sensation almost too much. She fit him like she was made just for him. She wrapped her arms around him and he let himself go, losing himself in the feel of her. Thrusting slowly, he buried his face in her neck, feeling the pulsing of her vein against his lips. She moved with him, her hips meeting his. She guided his lips to hers, kissing him softly. He picked up his pace, unable to stop himself. She called out against his mouth, and he knew she was close. He wanted to feel her clench and gush around his cock, her climax the only thing he was focused on. He wanted to hear her scream.

  He wet his thumb and dropped a hand to her breast, teasing the tight nipple. She arched into him, filling his palm with her soft tit. He smiled, wetting the thumb again then sliding his hand between them. When his hand found her clit, she jerked against him, her eyes clamped shut. Digging his knees into the mattress, he ground against her, moving his hips in a circular motion. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. He ran his tongue over her lips and teeth, teasing her. He nuzzled his nose against hers, then sucked her plump lower lip. He felt her thighs clench around his hips, her hand cradling his scalp. She bucked against his fingers, still working her clit as his cock drove in and out of her, relentless.

  “You like that?” he couldn't resist, wanting more than anything to hear her say it.

  “Yes,” she moaned, the syllable drawn out across his skin like fingertips. Then she tilted her head, grazing her smooth cheek over his stubbled one. Electricity shivered down his spine at the sensation. He captured her mouth again, thrusting his tongue inside with the same rhythm as his hips. Mikhail usually fucked like he won fights, fast and hard, after sizing up his partner's weaknesses. Strategy in place. Minimal commitment, maximum pay-off. Not with Gennifer. He wanted to take his time and savor every second of their fight. She was a worthy opponent, but he had her. He remembered how she exploded against his cock during their encounter in the shower, and he wanted to feel it again. More than anything.

  Then she surprised him. She closed her hand around his wrist and dragged his hand across her hip. “Do what you did yesterday,” she said, no shame behind her voice. He couldn't stop a smile from spreading across his face. She met his smile, almost shyly, and he felt something, a tiny spark of warmth in his chest. Shaking his head, he pressed his lips to her shoulder.

  “Gennifer, you are...” he trailed off, the breath in his lungs escaping in a whoosh. In that moment, she was everything. She surrounded him. She engulfed him.

  “What?” she said, tilting her chin up, waiting for an answer. Instead he thrust into her hard, and she cried out, her body pulsing tighter around him. He didn't answer her, not sure of what he could even say. He couldn't form the words to describe what she meant to him at that moment, so he plunged into her, frenzied and fast, feeling like he was losing control.

  “Scream for me,” he said, speaking in his mother tongue, the words flowing easier from his lust-addled brain. “I want you to scream my name.” He dipped his head and sucked her nipple into his mouth. All he wanted was her—her body, her pussy, her dirty mouth. She moved with him, making small noises in her throat. When he felt her arms tighten around him, he knew she was almost ready. Then he did what she asked, plunging his finger inside her tight hole as he thrust his cock in her pussy. “Do you want me to fuck you here?” he whispered, not knowing or caring which language he spoke. He slid his finger deeper and she screamed again, her pussy clenching around him. His eyesight flickered in and out, the intensity of the pleasure taking over.

  “Mikhail,” she moaned, “Mikhail, fuck. Fuck!” she called out as she came. Then he let himself go, too, waves of pure ecstasy shuddering through his body as she held him. His orgasm shot through his veins, and he let himself succumb to the all-consuming high. Then they collapsed, tangled in each other's arms, struggling to catch their breath.

  Gennifer was the first to break the silence, as usual.

  “Not bad for a first date, papí,” she said, a slow smile curling over her face. A laugh forced it's way out of his dry throat, and he pressed his forehead to her chest. He couldn't disagree with the woman in his arms. Not at all.

  After what seemed like hours, he let her go, reluctantly, sitting up and rolling his shoulders. Sex with Gennifer was better than a trip to the chiropractor. His muscles were relaxed and smooth, tension non-existent.

  “I will be back,” he said, turning his face to gaze upon her again. She smiled a sexy, shy smile and he felt the blood rushing back to his cock as he stood. He loved seeing her well-sexed and soft, her body relaxed and open. Her black hair looked damn good spread over his pillow. Her long smooth legs were sexy as hell and wrapped in his sheets. He felt that odd warmth in his chest again. Gennifer Rainbow Rodriguez was getting under his skin, he realized. The woman was dangerous. Very dangerous.

  ***

  “Wake up, solnyshka.”

  Gennifer moaned in pleasure as she felt hands running through her hair and a low voice close to her ear. She was so comfortable and warm, she didn't want to open her eyes. And her body still hummed from the sex...although calling it 'sex' didn't seem to cover the magnitude of what had happened between them. Her body had responded to him on so many levels, it was almost scary. She took a deep breath, snuggling against the pillow as his hand traveled lower, down her spine. Then he lightly pinched her ass and her eyes popped open.

  Mikhail, shirtless, sat next to her on the bed, his eyes dancing with laughter. She rolled over onto her back, shoving her hair out of her face. She narrowed her eyes at him and smiled. He wore loose sweatpants, tied at the waist, and nothing else. He looked ridiculously sexy, his muscles and intricate tattoos on full display in the low lamplight. She lifted her arms over her head, the sheet falling down against her stomach. His eyes immediately zeroed in on her chest and his smile faded. Now it was her turn to laugh.

  “Are you trying to seduce me?” he asked.

  “Been there, done that.” She giggled as he ran a finger down the valley of her breasts. “What is playing?” She held up a fing
er, indicating the music that was wafting through the apartment.

  “The King.” He shrugged.

  “Elvis is the opposite of sexy. You realize that?”

  “You are talking crazy.” He traced the swell of her left breast with his finger, slowly.

  “Where are the slow jams?”

  “Slow jams?” he said, furrowing his brow, like he didn't understand.

  “Yeah, you know. Al Green, Sade, Jodeci. Justin Timberlake,” she said. “I could even go for some Selena.”

  “Al Green. He is good.”

  “Glad you approve.” She couldn't stop herself from squirming, goosebumps breaking out on her skin at his touch. Chuckling, he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her silly. She ran her hands over his shoulders, her body drawn to his. She loved the feel of his skin under her hands. She straddled him in a quick movement, feeling his erection pressed against her core. She captured his wrists, pushing him back onto the mattress. He didn't fight her, just stared up at her with those wild gray eyes. He clenched his fists, but didn't move to touch her as she brushed her tits across his chest. Her nipples immediately hardened, almost painfully. His breath was coming faster now, and she bit her lip, loving having whatever power she had over him.

  Gennifer let her fingers drift down his forearms to the bulge of his biceps. Her eyes devoured him, like she was seeing him for the first time. The white, raised surgery scars on his left side. The ripple of his muscles under his skin. Every inch of colorful ink that decorated his body. She took it all. Breathed him in. She dragged her lips down his chest, her fingers dancing over his ribs. She was addicted to the way his skin smelled and tasted and felt. She wondered vaguely if this what being in love felt like. If so, she was falling. Hard. And she barely knew anything about him. The thought was painful. She wanted all of him, whether he wanted her to have him or not.