Pure Iron

by Bargo, Holly

  Mick carefully set the guitar aside. His whole body trembled and his erection strained painfully at his zipper. Perhaps giving Sonia her own private concert hadn’t been such a good idea. That moan broke him. He launched himself from his chair to hers, crushed his lips to hers.

  Sonia gasped at the unexpected kiss. Mick used the opportunity to spear his tongue inside her mouth. Hers tentatively flicked against his and she was lost. Mick’s hand cupped the back of her head and his other hand tugged her ponytail loose. He ate at her mouth, the utter carnality of kissing an experience so unlike any other kiss she ever had before. Her hands worked their way up his arms and around his neck to twine in his hair. Mick surged against her, his chest pressing against hers even as she arched helplessly toward him. She could not help the moan that escaped her lips.

  Mick tore his mouth from hers just long enough to growl, “Bedroom.”

  He rose to his feet, making sure they continued to kiss as he drew her up with him. Passion dissolved rational thought and lured her after him as he led her to his bed. His hands trembled as he slid the sweater from her shoulders. It fell to the floor in a soft heap. His hands trembled as he unbuttoned her shirt, shaking with the strain of not simply ripping it from her body. His breath caught as her breasts were revealed to him, cupped by the lacy cups of her bra. He cupped her breasts in his warm hands, swiped his thumbs back and forth over the nipple straining against the pale, peach colored lace,

  Sonia gasped as arousal sizzled, a direct connection from the needy tips of her breasts to her heated core. She trembled in his hands as he backed to the bed and lowered her beneath him, one denim clad leg wedging her thighs apart. She was unsure of what to do with her own hands. But they seemed to think and act independently of her brain and slid around and down to creep beneath the tee shirt and skim the surprisingly soft skin beneath. Her palms traced the ridges and curves of hard muscles even as his hands focused attention on her breasts.

  His head dipped, tracing fiery kisses along her jaw to nibble on her earlobe and then down the slender column of her neck. He moved downward to finally latch onto the puckered nipple and suck at it through the lace. Sonia moaned and her back arched as her body sought deeper contact. Mick slipped his hand behind her to unfasten the hooks of her bra. The elasticized fabric immediately contracted and he pulled the garment off her.

  When had she lost her shirt? The wispy question dissolved beneath the sensual onslaught as his mouth again captured her breast. Sonia heard a high, keening sound and dimly realized it came from her. But she could not find it within herself to be embarrassed.

  She felt the waistband of her shorts loosen as Mick’s nimble fingers expertly unfastened the button and zipper. She gasped and squealed when his warm hand stroked just beneath the lacy waistband of her panties. The touch seemed to trigger some latent warning in her brain.

  “No, Mick,” she gasped even as her body undulated beneath him. “No. Stop, Mick.”

  His entire hand eased beneath the lace and nylon and one long finger penetrated her as his mouth moved to devour her other breast. Sonia gasped again, and moaned, the sounds beyond her control.

  “So tight,” he marveled as he suckled her breast and his finger stroked in and out of her.

  She squirmed beneath him. “Mick, stop. We have to stop,” she pleaded hoarsely even as her body seemed to strain and reach toward something.

  “Come for me,” he whispered as he moved back up her body and his thumb pressed delicately on her clit.

  With another keening cry she shattered, undulating helplessly beneath him. He watched as her expression of uncertainty and fear melted into joy and wonder as the pleasure of her first orgasm radiated through her body. As the pleasure faded, awareness burgeoned.

  Chest heaving as she gulped air and realized she was less than half dressed beneath her new “friend,” Sonia cried, “I can’t. Please, Mick, I can’t.”

  Mick had trouble concentrating beyond the heat and wetness between her legs and the way her hands curled over his chest and the painful press of his erection against his zipper. He wanted to rage that she had led him on, teased him, but could not. It just wasn’t true and, of all things he had sworn, he would always be truthful with himself. He reluctantly withdrew his hand from her panties and brought his fingers his mouth. Her mouth opened in an astonished “O” as he licked her moisture off his fingers. God damn, she tasted good. It was a physical effort not to dip his fingers back down to collect more of her honey.

  Trying to process her rejection of the explosive passion between them, his brow furrowed and he asked in a hoarse voice, “Why can’t you?”

  Sonia gulped and blurted, “I’m a virgin. I—I just can’t give it away so easily.”

  He eased back, physically distancing his body from hers. “Am I not good enough?” he asked, knowing that he wasn’t. Not really. He did not deserve the gift she declined to bestow upon him, the gift that he was finding it damned difficult not to take.

  “I—it’s not that,” she said, closing her eyes against the roiling confusion of emotion. “I’m saving myself for my wedding night.”

  Mick’s eyes widened, then narrowed: “You have got to be kidding me.”

  Sonia’s eyes narrowed, too, at his incredulity. She set her hands flat against his chest and shoved. “Get off me.”

  Mick wanted to howl with disappointment, but he edged backward. He could get damned near any woman he wanted with nothing more than a wink and a smile; he would not resort to force. Sonia scrambled into a sitting position and scooted away from him.

  “I am not kidding you,” she said, her voice low, intense, throbbing. “This is important to me, to who I am. I’m not … I’m not like … well … you know.”

  “You’re not like your slutty roommate,” he shot back. The words felt like gravel spewing from this throat and his still-engorged dick still strained for release.

  ”No, I’m not,” she snapped as she looked for her bra. Finding it, she jerked it back on, grimacing as the wet spot settled coldly over her right nipple. She crawled off the bed and picked up her shirt and shrugged it on. As she buttoned it, her shoulders slumped and she said, “Look, Mick, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tease or lead you on. I’m really sorry. I’ll just go now and I won’t bother you anymore.”

  Shame—something Mick had seldom, if ever, experienced—swelled to mix with regret. Damn it, she was taking responsibility for something that had not been her fault and the guilt of it shamed him. He reached out to catch her hand, somehow knowing that if he let her leave now, then he would lose something good and precious.

  “Wait,” he bade her as his hand curled around hers. She tugged, but he did not let go. His other hand ran through his hair. “Please, wait. Just a moment.”

  Sonia stopped tugging and relented. She waited while he gathered his thoughts.

  “You didn’t,” he said slowly, making sure to gaze at her directly as he spoke. ‘You didn’t lead me on and you’re not a cock tease.”

  Her expression softened and her eyes flickered downward, drawn to the impressive bulge still filling the front of his pants. A small smile curved one side of his mouth.

  “If you keep looking at it, it won’t go away.”

  Her cheeks flamed red and she bit her lip in consternation. But her eyes seemed fixed on his crotch as though she did not know how to look away. He could feel his greedy cock swell even more and he groaned, palming himself through the fabric.

  “I need relief,” he said honestly. “You can do that or I can do that. But I need it now and you need to make a decision.”

  Her startled gaze flew upward to meet his intense one.

  “You don’t have to lose your V-card to do this,” he coaxed even as he slowly drew her toward him. She did not resist. He could see the pulse at her throat flutter rapidly as her breath quickened. Oh, she wanted to, even if she could not admit it.

  “H-how?” she whispered.

  “Oh, baby, I just need your hands and mo
uth.”

  Sonia swallowed the lump of nervousness that clogged her throat. She understood what he meant. She read books, romance novels that could get pretty explicit.

  “I’ve n-never done that,” she confessed when he brought her to a slow halt. She stood between his spread thighs.

  “In the state I’m in, you won’t have to do it for very long,” he said, his voice beginning to show strain.

  She averted her gaze, then looked at him again. Once again, she bit her lip and worried at it.

  “Do you want me to take it out for you?” he asked.

  Her gaze flickered downward, then back up. She replied with an almost imperceptible nod. He released her hand and unfastened the button at his waistband and unzipped the fly. He groaned with the slight relief as his cramped dick straightened, the mushroom head pushing above the elastic waistband of his underwear. He looked up at her and her fascinated gaze was fixed on his crotch, her eyes wide with something that looked a bit like fear.

  “You’ve never even seen one before, have you?” he asked gently.

  She slowly shook her head.

  Mick wanted to howl with triumph as sheer possessiveness and pride surged. He was her first. He would initiate her foray into sexual pleasure.

  Suddenly, he knew he wanted to be her last, too. The very idea of another man touching her as intimately as he had, tasting her, made his blood boil. The possessiveness confused him. No woman had ever affected him like that: women were easy to come by and easy to let go. They gave him pleasure and he returned it. That was the extent of the relationship.

  But Sonia was different. So different. He’d only known her for a few hours and already he knew that.

  With a quick movement, he shoved underwear and jeans over his hips and down to his ankles. His heavy cock bobbed expectantly between his thighs. An oily drop gathered at the end, dripped down the side. He heard her suck in a long, drawn out breath of air.

  “You’re gonna have to kneel, sweetheart,” he said softly.

  Obediently, she lowered herself to her knees. Hand trembling, she hesitantly reached for him. Then drew her hand back. He gently grasped her wrist and drew her hand to him. With his other hand, he curled hers around his girth near the root. She gasped softly at the heat of him, the hardness, the delicate softness of the skin, the rough prickle of pubic hair.

  “Hold it steady and lick the top,” he said … well, begged, practically.

  She tilted her head sideways as though to figure out the best way to do that.

  “Like an ice cream cone,” he suggested.

  She leaned down and took a tentative like. He inhaled sharply and she reared back in fright.

  Grabbing on to the dissolving threads of his control, he managed a short chuckle and said, “You didn’t hurt me. That felt great. Phenomenal. Do it again.”

  Hesitantly, she bent back down and swiped her tongue across the glans again. She inhaled, taking in the earthy, musky scent of him.

  “Oh, yeah,” he crooned.

  Thus encouraged, she began to lick him more thoroughly, swirling her tongue around the tip, dipping the tip of her tongue into the weeping divot, flicking it around the lip beneath the glans. He guided her hand, stroking where her mouth did not reach.

  “That feels so good,” he praised.

  Then she opened her mouth wide, folding her lips over the sharp edges of her teeth, and took him inside her mouth.

  “Aaaah!” he exclaimed and fought to keep from bucking his hips as she closed her mouth around him and sucked. Her other came joined the first and stroked his balls, learning their shape and texture. He groaned as her tongue fluttered around him, rubbed him. Her hands stroked, feathery caresses interspersed with firmer touches. Then her fingertips gently, lightly rubbed the sensitive perineum and his balls clenched, sending their contents up through the long, thick stalk of his erection and into her mouth.

  “I’m cumming!” he announced, ending on a long, drawn out groan as his hips rocked helplessly.

  Sonia managed to capture and swallow the first couple of spurts, but the entire ejaculate proved too much and she found the thick, salty substance draining out of her mouth and over Mick’s still-hard cock. His semen lubricated her hands and she tightened her hold as she stroked him up and down.

  “Ah … God,” he gasped and fell backward on the bed.

  Sonia opened her mouth and let his softening dick slide out even as she gently released her hold on it. She drew the back of her arm across her mouth and chin to wipe off saliva and semen.

  Looking at his heaving chest and the wet mess of his pubic area, she accurately guessed she did not have to ask whether he enjoyed her inexpert ministrations. Sonia sat back on her heels and wondered what she was supposed to do. At the flash of a mental lightbulb, she rose and disappeared into the bathroom, which wasn’t hard to find. She dug out a clean washcloth, turned on the spigot, rinsed out her mouth and drank some water before it ran warm, and wet the washcloth in the warm water. She wrung it out and brought it to the bedroom. Again, she knelt between his thighs, but this time she gently wiped him clean.

  She rose and took the soiled washcloth back to the bathroom. A minute later she returned, paused, opened her mouth as though to say something, then closed it without speaking. A blush spread across her face and neck and Mick wanted to see how far it extended. She took a few steps toward the door.

  Mick sat up and said, “Stay. Please.”

  “Why?” she asked, standing poised to flee.

  Suddenly suffused with energy, he forced himself to say slowly, gently, “Because I want you to. Because you want to stay.”

  She averted her gaze, uncertainty evident in her posture. He rose and pulled up his underwear and pants. With a yank, he zipped the fly, but left the waistband unbuttoned. He brushed past her and picked up his guitar, hoisting it into place. A second, two seconds, to gather his thoughts, then his fingers worked their magic and the music flowed. The tune that he had painstakingly teased from his mind suddenly poured forth complete. His ear, mind, and hands committed the score to memory.

  Sonia could not help but listen as the guitar wept beautiful music. The notes rang surely and with confidence.

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

  He lowered his guitar when the song ended and looked at her, eyes bright and burning. “I’ve been working on this song for over a year, but couldn’t get it to flow, couldn’t figure out anything beyond the refrain. Until you. A few hours with you and I’m suddenly creating the best work of my life.”

  Sonia’s mouth opened, then closed again, for lack of words.

  “Stay. Please,” he asked again. Begged, really.

  “I—I—”

  “We’ll get married,” he continued in a rush, keeping his voice soft and persuasive, the volume low. The cold part of his mind reasoned that if the woman whose novice attentions had just given him the absolute best blowjob in his life wouldn’t have sex without a piece of government paper, then he’d happily take care of that little obstacle. “We can fly to Las Vegas in less than two hours.”

  “I—I—”

  He set down the guitar and crossed the room. Mick wrapped his arms around her, aligning her body against his. He lowered his lips to hers and, before kissing her senseless, said, “Say yes.”

  “But—” Sonia gasped a weak objection when he let her up for air. He rolled his hips against her and she realized that he was hard again. A quiver rippled through her and she felt her core grow slick with a fresh secretion of moisture. A second later, she found her mouth captured by his, Mick’s hands roaming beneath her shirt to stroke her back, dipping beneath the loose waistband of her shorts to caress her butt. And she was certain that her brain cells had begun to melt and every intelligent thought dribble out her ears.

  “I’ll buy you a restaurant, a little cafe so you won’t be wasting your education,” he offered spontaneously as the cold, calculating part of his brain asked why she should stay with him. What was in it
for her?

  “I wouldn’t marry you for your money, Mick,” she protested stiffly.

  “A wedding present,” he coaxed, rocking his hips into her again, letting her feel the strength of his irrational, unreasonable, unaccountable desire for her. And if the marriage didn’t work out—as he fully expected within a few months—then she would have her restaurant to fall back on.

  He could feel and see her hesitation.

  “When was the last time you did anything on impulse, Sonia?” he asked between long, drugging kisses as one hand palmed her breast and kneaded the plump flesh. “When was the last time you did anything just because it felt this good?”

  Sonia had to admit to herself that the entire day had been one impulsive decision after another, which was so extremely and incredibly unlike her. Nor could she deny that it all felt good, delicious even. She moaned softly, indecision warring with expectations and drowning beneath pleasure.

  “Say yes,” he demanded, sinking a hand down the front of her pants until he could stroke her so, so intimately. She sucked in a huge gulp of air and her hips bucked. “Say yes.”

  He inserted a finger inside her tight channel and pulled it back out. She whimpered. He stroked upward again, pressing the heel of his palm against the fleshy mons.

  “Say yes.”

  Her thighs began to tremble and her breath shortened to shallow pants. He pushed in a second finger and she moaned against his mouth, her hips rocking restlessly.

  “Say yes.”

  He reached further in and found the G-spot and rubbed his fingertips over it. Sonia’s breath hitched and she made the high keening noise again as her pussy clenched rhythmically and her eyes rolled back in her head.

  “Yes!” she cried out.

  In the battle between sense, indecision, and pleasure, pleasure won.

  Chapter 3

  Mick scooped her limp form into his arms and lay her down on his bed. His erection screamed at him to sink into her, but he drew the line at having sex with an unconscious woman.