“Fuck me,” I demanded. I tried to twist out of his hold, change positions so that I was on top and could get what I needed faster, but his knees parted my thighs, and his cock once again forged through my folds. I tried to open myself as much as I could for his incredible girth, turning my knees out and latching my ankles behind his thighs.
“That’s right,” he said. “Pull me into that hot, sweet little cunt.”
Bearing his weight on his arms, he pushed into me. One inch at a time. Stretching me, filling me, until the pain blended with pleasure and I was nearly blind with lust. His face buried in my hair; the feel of his cheek against mine added a tenderness I didn’t expect.
“So tight,” he murmured. “God, your body, Anna. It’s perfect.”
He drew back slowly, fighting for control—I could see the tension spanning his body in every taut muscle. Beads of sweat dripped down his jaw. He pinched his eyes closed in concentration.
More. I needed more. I needed all of him. Now.
My nails scratched down his back and he arched, teeth bared. When his eyes shot open, I could see only the pupils.
He drove into me hard, burying himself to the hilt, holding me with his gaze and steely cock. I could feel him all the way to my womb, all the way to my soul as he tore down the barriers I’d carefully guarded for so long. He pushed past my defenses and stripped me bare, and as he found a hard, consistent rhythm, I held tightly to him, afraid of losing myself so quickly.
“Like that,” he coaxed. “Squeeze my cock like that.”
His words made me so hot.
The pressure was rising again, and as he shifted his weight and his pelvis began rubbing against my clit, I could feel myself beginning to unravel. I thrashed beneath him, straining when his grip slid beneath my shoulders so that he could lock me in place.
He pushed deeper, then traded his measured pace for faster strokes, angling upward. My inner walls clamped down, needing more. Taking more. I became blind to everything but how good he felt.
The sensations were new to me. I could come by my own hand or another’s, but I’d never been able to orgasm during sex. Some past lovers didn’t care; others found this a challenge and, to spare their feelings, I occasionally faked it.
I was not faking now. This was real, and more intense than anything I’d ever imagined. The heat spiraled away from a center deep inside of me, a place he rubbed with each thrust. My hips rocked up to meet him, taking everything he gave.
“Feel how deep I am,” he said. “I’ve never been so hard.”
Our bodies slid against each other, damp with sweat.
“Alec, Alec.”
“Let go, baby,” he said. “Come. Now.”
I did as he commanded, and when the orgasm tore through me, I screamed. Blinded by white stars, I clawed the wooden floor, shocked as the sensations went on and on.
Swearing sharply, he rose to his knees, grabbed me beneath the thighs and lifted my hips, driving into me in a series of fast, deep strokes.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted.
The next orgasm chased the last, just as intense, just as powerful. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. And as my muscles contracted, he slammed into me one more time and held. A tight expression crossed his beautiful face. The look sent a new wave of tremors through my body.
“Ah, God, Anna.” He collapsed over me, drawing me tightly to his chest as he rolled onto his side.
*
I don’t know how long we lay there; long after our breathing slowed and our hearts stopped hammering. I stayed where he held me, sprawled over his chest with my head resting on his shoulder. He fanned my hair over my back, twisting the ends with his fingertips while his other hand teased down my waist. He was still inside of me, hot and semihard, and as I slid my knee up his side, he gave a soft groan.
“Um . . . wow?” I grinned, unsure what else to say.
“Yes,” he said. “Agreed.”
I lifted up on my elbows to face him, and for the first time he slid out of me. The ache returned immediately, a soft but anxious throb reminding me how perfectly we’d fit together. He tucked my hair behind my ears.
“Goddamn,” he murmured. “You really are beautiful.”
Shyness crept over me. It seemed impossible that he could make me feel so many different things in one day.
His hand lowered, thumb skimming the side of my breast. I gave a little gasp. My nipples hardened instantly.
“Are you okay?” he asked, tracing my spine now, and lowering around the curve of my thighs. Whispers of heat remained in the wake of his touch. Already I was becoming aroused again.
“Are you kidding?” I kissed him gently, reveling in the soft feel of his lips. “I’m better than okay.”
“I was a little rougher than I meant to be,” he admitted. “You were making me crazy in the car.”
“You’ve been making me crazy since I met you,” I said. “And how did you mean to be?” I wondered how he’d envisioned our first time together. Whatever I’d imagined, reality had left far in the dust.
A slow smile warmed his face. “I’d tell you but then, you know, I’d have to kill you.”
“You almost did,” I said. “I came three times.”
“Just three times?” he asked, a devilish glint in his eyes. “I think we can do better than that.”
He rolled over me in a move that made me squeak in surprise. Slowly, he drew my arms over my head and held them in place with one hand while he removed the used condom with the other.
“That’s better than anyone else has ever done,” I said, feeling that wave of shyness again. “I can’t usually get off during sex.” I immediately regretted mentioning it when his mouth flattened and a line creased his forehead.
“You can’t?”
I shook my head. “That was the first time.”
He studied me, as if trying to see if I was telling the truth.
“Things are different with us,” he said after a moment.
I nodded, unable to help feeling that he meant in more ways than just the physical.
He kissed my lips, worshipping my mouth with a slow, gentle caress. As his mouth trailed down my throat, my pulse scrambled.
“Do you have a bed?” he asked gruffly.
I giggled. “Of course, I have a bed. You didn’t see it?” I lived in a studio apartment, you couldn’t not see it.
“I was preoccupied.” He flexed his hips, and his bare cock, once again erect, pressed against my tender flesh. My breath caught.
“That’s right,” I said. “I remember now.”
He didn’t enter me again. Instead he pulled upright, dragging me with him. He stood, tossing me over his shoulder like I weighed no more than a sack of laundry.
“We can do better than three,” he said.
Fourteen
I woke just before eight o’clock, roused by a creaking near the front door. The space beside me in bed where Alec had finally collapsed after having his way with me twice more was cool, the pillow still indented in the shape of his head. We’d only slept a couple hours, but I felt invigorated, pleasantly sore, and happy. Too happy.
I opened my eyes, my high plummeting with a sudden sinking dread that I’d made it all up. Every touch, every whisper.
Every mind-blowing orgasm.
Too happy was always a red flag for me. If you climbed too high, you crashed too hard.
I spotted Alec across the room, watching as he carefully positioned the small wire table where I usually left my keys and purse—I vaguely remembered the sound of it tipping over when he’d taken me to the floor last night. He was facing away, wearing only his jeans, and his shoulders, bronze and sculpted, flexed with each movement. His waist narrowed into pants that gave only hints of his perfect ass, which was unfortunate. I would have preferred he stayed as naked as I was.
My stupid grin chased away my wariness. He had a body that could have made the cover of a men’s magazine.
As I watched him, a
warmth spread from the center of my chest all the way out to my fingertips and toes. Something had happened between us last night, something deep. I didn’t know what to think about that, or how it would be between us now in the aftermath.
Because I wasn’t ready to deal with any potential awkwardness, I held still, tracking him with my eyes. He picked up a few pieces of our clothing off the floor and placed them over the back of the love seat. His shirt was in the mix, and he pulled it over his head, giving me another impressive view of his back. Then he turned toward the bed, as if he knew I was watching.
My eyelids snapped shut. I tried to look relaxed, which was nearly impossible since I was only halfway covered by the comforter. My naked breasts grew tight and heavy under his gaze. It took everything I had not to close my legs or cover my body with the sheet. Now that the light outside was streaming through the windows, I was painfully aware of my every exposed flaw.
He didn’t move for a long while. My skin was heating, and that insatiable need I felt whenever I was close to him was growing once again between my thighs.
When I couldn’t stand it any more, I opened my eyes.
Get over here, I nearly said, the smile on my face stretching my sore lips.
But he was facing the other way. And, as I stared silently after him, he grabbed his keys and closed the door softly behind him.
I rose to my elbows, half expecting him to walk back in—laughing, because of course he knew I was awake—and then come back to bed to fuck me mindless.
I waited ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty.
I sat up and pulled the comforter over my shoulders. It felt better to be covered up, even if I was alone.
One minute.
Two.
Five.
He wasn’t coming back.
He hadn’t even said good-bye.
I rose from the bed. We’d talked about spending the day together, but apparently that was off. Maybe he’d never meant it in the first place.
Whatever hope remained drove me to briefly look for a note—Thanks for last night, or Get back in bed, or I’ll call you later—but nothing. Still, I hadn’t given him credit before, and he’d found me at that restaurant with Randall. Maybe he was just running home to change clothes or check in at work. I didn’t know why I was so quick to doubt him, but it was hard not to when he just disappeared like that.
I locked the door and picked up some of my clothes. My phone was sitting on the table Alec had picked up off the floor. At first it looked like no one had called, but when I opened my inbox, I saw that Amy had left four texts in response to my message that Alec was busy with another woman, and I was going out with Randall. I knew I hadn’t turned off the new message alert, and my stomach sank when I considered that Alec may have seen her responses before me.
WTF is wrong with that guy?
Forget him. You deserve better. Have fun with Dr. Randall.
Do more than have fun. Fuck his brains out. Tie him up to the bedframe and spank him until he sings 90s boy band music.
Call me when you kick Dr. R out of bed.
I didn’t think Alec would have searched through my phone, but he had picked it up and set it here. I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands, anxiety tying my stomach in knots. Part of me wanted to call him, but what if he hadn’t seen the texts? Then I’d come off as desperate.
Part of me thought it served him right to see them. Especially if he was already on his way out the door.
But what if he hadn’t been leaving until he’d seen those?
Dammit Amy.
Drama. Too much drama. I laughed out loud, aware that I had momentarily lapsed into my tortured teenage years. I needed to clear my head and eat some breakfast. Everything else could wait until later.
I went to the bathroom, pulled on a robe, and cringed at my face in the mirror. My eye makeup was smeared, my hair a sexified mess. I looked like a raccoon that had stuck his claw in an electrical socket.
“Yikes,” I said. “No wonder he took off.”
I turned on the shower and stood in the steam for a few minutes, letting it relax my muscles. I ran my fingertips down my throat, remembering the feel of Alec’s mouth devouring me. He’d been so attentive after that first time, watching my reaction to his every touch. He’d practically taken notes. With a careful, gentle exploration, he’d found ways to excite me that even I hadn’t known about.
Thinking about it now turned me on all over again.
And made it even worse that he was gone.
I stepped into the shower, one of my favorite features of this old apartment. Spanish tile lined the enclosure from floor to ceiling, roomy enough for the bathtub the previous owners had removed. The water ran in rivulets down my body, rinsing my troubles down the drain. I opened the shampoo and breathed in the strong, relaxing sandalwood scent. As I rubbed it into my scalp, I thought of Alec’s fingers, buried in my hair. I’d just rinsed it clean when a creak from the front door made me freeze.
I’d locked the front door, I was sure of it. But someone was undoubtedly in my apartment; I could hear their footsteps rolling across the floor. My brain switched into high gear. Naked and vulnerable, I eased open the glass door and snuck onto the floor. Anything could be used as a weapon if necessary, that was what my dad had taught me. I reached for the first heavy thing I could get my hands on—a blow-dryer—and backed against the wall.
I held it like a gun, the cord dragging on the floor below. Great. I could see the headlines now: Naked Woman Attempts to Shoot Intruder with Blow-Dryer, Killed by Real Gun.
The footsteps outside paused, and then came closer. By the time they were just beyond the door, I was shaking. Water dripped from my hair, my chin, my breasts, making a puddle on the floor. I gripped the blow-dryer even harder and exhaled.
The door opened, and with a screech, I swung upward hard, taking the trespasser by surprise. I connected with the side of his face, and then charged; the only way out was straight through him. He stumbled backward, taking me with him. I was already halfway to my feet when his voice stopped me.
“Jesus Christ, Anna!” Alec was sprawled out on the floor, rubbing his jaw with a stormy look on his face.
He was completely naked.
“Alec!” The blow-dryer clattered to the floor.
I kneeled down beside him, cradling his cheek in my hand. My chosen weapon had left a red mark all the way up to his ear.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t think it was you!”
“Were you expecting someone else?” He opened his mouth wide, wiggled his jaw from side to side.
“I thought you were a robber. How did you get back in? I locked the door.” I touched his cheek gently. I probably should have gotten him some ice, but I didn’t want to leave his side.
“I had your keys.”
I sat back on my heels, glancing up at the door. “My keys?” I’d seen him grab keys before he’d left; I’d just assumed they’d been his.
“Yeah.” His gaze lowered down to my breasts, and I became aware of his growing cock, stretching to capacity. “I went to get your car. I got breakfast, too.”
“You did?” I was melting. How could I have doubted him? He’d obviously felt that incredible connection between us, too.
“I heard the shower and thought I’d join you.” He sat all the way up and blinked as I ran my hands through the silky strands of his hair. “But now that I have a concussion, I’m not sure a slippery surface is the safest place.”
“What a baby,” I chided. I kissed just below his ear and his shoulders tensed. “You’re right. It’s probably safest if you lie down.”
I eased him back on the floor and straddled him, reveling in the feel of his stiff cock between my legs.
A wicked grin tilted his mouth. “Who am I to argue with a health professional?”
He groaned as I grasped the base of his shaft with one hand, and made a slow circle around the head with my fingertips. A drop of moisture appeared at the tip, and as I gave him
a firm squeeze, his abs went rigid.
“Does this mean you’re happy to see me?” he asked.
“I thought you weren’t coming back,” I said, beginning to stroke him. The sounds of the shower in the background faded as I became consumed by the task.
“Why did you think that?”
I hesitated just for a second before continuing. I kept my gaze on my grip, focusing on the engorged flesh and thick vein between my fingers, waiting for the old feelings he’d triggered to dissipate. My baggage wasn’t welcome here.
His hand stopped me, and I glanced up at him through my lashes.
“I’m not leaving,” he said.
I exhaled, biting my lip so he didn’t see how much his words meant to me. I wasn’t ready to go there yet.
But maybe someday.
He gave me a gentle tap on the bottom. “And tell your friend the only one getting tied up and spanked is you.”
I giggled.
I took his wrists in my hands and pinned them above his head. He easily could have broken my grasp, but didn’t. I think he wanted to see what a girl in charge could do.
“You’re not going anywhere now,” I told him.
I rose on my knees and seated myself on the tip of his cock, then slowly began to lower, pausing to let my body open for him. He felt harder than before, smoother, and I was slick and ready just from the feel of him against me. My body couldn’t get enough.
I gripped his shoulders, watching him watch the place where we connected with a rapidly growing desire. Just the tip nestled inside me, and already I was craving that deep, hard friction. I could feel the need taking over, transforming me into a creature that thirsted for pleasure—a woman I hadn’t known until Alec had touched me.
“Wait,” he said, just as I’d begun to sink lower. There was a dark, strained look in his eyes. “No condom.”
“Do you want one?” I asked. He’d used them last night, but we’d already discussed that both of us were clean.
“I want to feel you,” he said. My hands still gripped his wrists, and I reached farther, weaving my fingers through his. When he squeezed, I felt my heart beat harder against my ribs. The move was almost too intimate.
The Masseuse Page 12
