by Eva Luxe
I shiver, bringing a hand down onto my hair. My mound. My hood.
Paul is suddenly behind me, naked, taking my hand away. “You’re not allowed to touch that,” he says. “That’s mine, remember? I paid a pretty penny for that, and I’m not ready to let anyone else mess with it. Even you.”
With that, he slips his fingers into my folds and starts rubbing. Gyrating. Doing a “come hither” motion against my clit.
Almost immediately, I’m bending over because of the tender pulses shooting through my body. The sweet lightning shocking my system. I start panting. Moaning. Murmuring how good it feels. How sensitive I am. How much I want him to pet my kitty, and he obliges. But not by increasing the speed.
“I’ll pet your kitty, I’ll make her purr,” he whispers, “but you’ll have to ride my fingers like a cock if you want more stimulation.”
He slaps my ass with his free hand, taking a moment to play with my asshole.
I moan loudly, surprising myself. It’s a lusty, greedy sound and all my stuffed animals seem to scold me for it.
“I’m not your fuckboy or toy,” he whispers huskily. “You’re my toy, to play with any time I want. Get that straight, and ride my hand, Mariah!”
“Yes, sir” I cry, riding him hard and fast. The same way I’ve ridden many dildos and massagers. Until they break, but Paul’s hand doesn’t break. It just shifts and molds to my folds. My clit, growing bigger and hotter with every motion. Soon, it’s like I’ve got a small sun itching to become a supernova inside me. It burns like molten magma and devours like a black hole.
I thrust faster, surprised when the strongest, wettest orgasm goes through me and I ejaculate something in his hand. I spray a good amount of clear, sticky liquid, feeling like I’ve just peed. “Oh no,” I murmur, thinking I really have pissed on him.
“Oh yes,” says Paul, taking the liquid on his hand and using it to wet my holes. Particularly my pussy, whose lips are still tight and plump with desire. “You’ve just squirted. And it’s extra fun for me now.”
Quickly, as if I’ve just awoken the Jaguar in him, Paul hurries me over to my bed. As he does, his fully-erect cock pokes me in the middle to lower back. It’s like he’s got a dagger drawn. But unlike a dagger, I’m looking forward to being impaled by it. “Get ready, Mariah. My sword is drawn!”
But I’ve been ready for his sword since the last time he jabbed me with it. And I have a feeling I’ll always be ready for it.
Paul
I push Mariah onto her bed, head first. She lands in the perfect position for me to fuck both her pussy and ass equally. Easily. Unlike in the woods, I don’t need to lower myself to have access to her glistening and puckered holes. I just need to dive in.
I do dive in, glistening-penis-head first, but not before putting on a condom. I wasn’t sure I had one, but I found one in the back pocket of my pants before taking them off.
After opening the condom and putting it on, I spread Mariah’s lips and cheeks, getting a good look at her silky pinkness. I hum at it. “Delicious,” I say, “I’m going to enjoy tasting this.” I plunge my cock into her pussy, enjoying the instant feedback I get. The squish of her folds, as if she’s nothing more than an overripe peach. Then there is warmth. There’s also gripping along my head, and then shaft, as my cock slides easily into her, all the way up to my balls.
Mariah’s already moving, curling her toes cutely on the rug underneath her, and wiggling her hips. She has a very happy pussy, and I’m about to make it happier. I grab her hips, and push the head of my cock into her a bit more. Just enough to spread the tightest, smallest part of her hole open an inch. I succeed, enjoying a small little “kiss” on my tip from her furthest reaches. Mariah groans under this attention, but doesn’t tell me to stop.
I pull back, murmuring in her ear, “Your parents could come home early,” I warn. “You want to stay quieter than that, if you don’t want them seeing you shamelessly splayed out like this on your childhood bed. On the bed I’m sure your daddy read a lot of innocent, sweet stories to you on.”
I don’t waste any time starting a rhythm with her. Unlike our first time, I’m not slow or gentle. Instead, I’m methodical. I just start ramming my cock in and out of her, enjoying the way she whines. The way she shrieks when a particularly good spot inside of her.
“You naughty, naughty little girl. Just think of what they would say, Mariah, if they could see you with me right now.”
I spank her hard on each cheek, before grabbing her hair and holding onto it while I continue to ravage her swollen lips and hot, textured hole.
“I’m so bad,” agrees Mariah, sounding like she’s speaking on a cloud. She’s obviously feeling as if she’s in heaven.
“Punish me!” She rubs her silky, slightly-chilled ass cheeks against me. “Punish me please, Paul!”
“You want me to fuck you in the ass, is that it?” My whisperer is hot, heavy and combative. “Is that the kind of ‘punishment’ you want?”
Mariah nods, unable to verbally acknowledge that she wants that kind of sex. It must be from being at her parent’s house.
“I will,” I say, taking my dick out of her pussy, and making sure the condom is on still. It is, covered from tip to base and white and clear juice from her. Slowly, carefully I line my penis up with her puckering, puffy asshole. “But only because you begged me, and because you are such a naughty girl.”
Mariah squeals at this, and her asshole makes a kissing motion at me as I spread her cheeks in preparation of entering her. Seconds after spreading her cheeks as far as they will go, and angling my hard cock in the right direction, I dive into her. I slide my rod into her all the way without stopping.
We both sigh/groan in response to the quickness of the tight, sucking sensation. The kaleidoscope of texture that we both feel.
“Just like in the woods, Mariah,” I say, pumping in her full, delicious ass, “you’re going to have to stay quiet. Well behaved, if you don’t want to get found out.” I pinch and squeeze her ass with each in and out move.
Before long, even with me increasing my speed, grabbing on to her hips, Mariah is hungry. She begins to slam her ass and hips down on to me. After a few clumsy thrusts, she matches her rhythm to mine, and it’s a quick climb to pleasure.
In seconds, I feel my balls clench, and fluid beginning a race toward my tip. I feel Mariah clench with me, and I know the muscles in her ass are clenching. Experiencing the same kind of pleasure as she might when needing to use the bathroom.
But she doesn’t evacuate. She shudders, saying, “Fuck me in my hungry ass!” Her words waiver in time with my thrusting. “Oh, yes! Yes, I’m such a filthy girl, getting my hole plundered!”
“Oh yeah, baby,” I growl, feeling semen shoot into my condom, but imagining that it’s in her ass for real. “Take this, dirty girl!” With that, I stiffen, savoring each pump of my cock.
I stay with my orgasm, pushing into her a few more inches, before pulling out. Now I feel thoroughly milked. Spent.
Upon pulling out, Mariah has a small, but powerful orgasm. It shows up as a small tremor.
I gather her up, and place her on the bed properly. As I do so, I kiss her on the mouth. Deeply, and with tongue. She responds favorably, pulling me so that I’m more on the bed with her. I gladly give in to her pull.
“That was even better than earlier today,” murmurs Mariah, kissing me square on my lips. “Especially since now I get to dream about having that with you whenever I want.” She makes little doodles in my hair. Of what, I don’t know or care.
I’m just happy to lie with her here for as long as I can. Which isn’t going to be for much longer.
Mariah
Sooner than I want it to be, it’s time for Paul to leave.
He’s dressed and ready to brave the snow. I’ve seen it start to fall like crazy from the window in my bedroom. “I wish you could stay for longer, babe,” I moan, reaching out for him. “I wish we didn’t have to say goodbye yet.”
Paul walks into my arms, stroking my hair. “I know.” A pause, as he messes tenderly with an ear lobe. “But I can’t. Your parents are going to be here soon, and I don’t want to give them any time to ask questions about why I look so rosy cheeked.” We share a laugh, but I feel Paul moving away. I hate it, but I know it has to happen. “There will be a next time, Mariah. And next time, we’re going to do it right. I’m going to tie you to the bed again and fuck your brains out without worrying about being rushed.”
I smile, hearing tenderness in the way he says “fuck your brains out.” He’s not being the tough out alpha male right now, and I run with it. I look up at him, saying, “You really are smitten with me, aren’t you? You really are hopeless around me.”
“Sure.” He kisses me on my cheek, before heading to my bedroom door and opening it. “But I wouldn’t want it any other way, baby.” He turns toward me. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if I heard wedding bells in our future.”
He gestures like he’s listening carefully. Bells, like those on a reindeer, have just sounded out my window. “The Christmas bells are ringing, Mariah. You know what that means, right?”
I do.
“Yes, sir. It means there will be more bells in the future. And it means my dreams have come true.”
“It means you’ve made my dreams come true, too,” he says.
With a smile, he adds, “And they say money can’t buy happiness,” and we both laugh, knowing that in our case, it bought hot sex, deep love and a very happy ever after.
Can’t get enough Mariah and Paul? Subscribe to Jules’ News and Sizzling Hot Reads and receive your free newsletter-exclusive bonus extended epilogue that features these two characters.
Don’t Forget About Me: A Second Chance Amnesia Romance
Copyright © 2017 by Eva Luxe and Juliana Conners; All Rights Reserved.
Chapter 1 – Brian
Present Day
I was supposed to be helping to choose new recruits for my Florida Sharks professional football team but I couldn’t help getting a little bit sappy. Watching athletes right before they hit the prime of their career was inspiring. But it also made me nostalgic, reminiscent. And still a little fucking heartbroken.
I was at the Sharks’ Training Facility, watching the training session for the rookies. They trained at night when we were done using the fields. Coach Rudi Thompson stood next to me, and we both took notes on the new recruits.
“They’re fit enough,” Coach said with a growl in his voice. “That’s for damn sure.”
I chuckled. “That’s because every time they mess up, Coach Donald makes them run laps.”
Coach Rudi shrugged. “It works. They learn that way. I should do it more with the rest of you. You’re all too cocky for your own good. That’s the problem.”
I laughed. “Shit, we’re doing cardio outside of training sessions enough as it is, thank you very much.”
Coach grinned, but the grin didn’t last long.
“What do you see?” I asked.
Coach shook his head. “It’s what I’m not seeing. I don’t see a hell of a lot of potential among these guys,” he said. “What am I supposed to do when someone retires?”
He had a point. Every now and then, we needed to pull someone from the B teams and C teams. They weren’t anything special yet. They played games just like we did, but they weren’t nearly as popular. Once a player was good enough and we had space, they’d get moved up to the real team.
“We’ll see what they’re worth in their game, tomorrow,” I said.
The Sharks were off for a while. When that happened, we took time to watch the other team’s games. We learned from them, we laughed at them, and we scouted from them. It was a team effort.
I played running back for the team, and I was damn good at what I did. I was one of the best players on the field. That might sound like vanity to some people, but it was the honest truth. I enjoyed what I did. I’d played for the Hurricanes for my college team and worked my way up to professional status with the Sharks soon after.
I’d dreamed about making it to this level ever since I was a little kid. Now that I was living the dream, my life was almost perfect.
Almost.
There were definitely holes in my life where things were missing. Love, a relationship, companionship. It was something I tried not to think about most of the time, and when I did, I told myself I didn’t want or need any of that bullshit. I played pro ball and nothing was supposed to get me down. Especially girlie crap like that.
I know that since I’m not in a relationship, I should be able to fuck around with whoever I want. My best friend Hanson used to tell me I should be like him, on the prowl for one-night stands and cheap fucking, because I could. There was a time when he was like that and would want me to go hunting for fresh pussy together, but he had gone and settled down, by dating Lacey and then marrying her.
The man was happier than I’d seen him in a long time. He deserved it. He’d pulled his life together, and he and Lacey had just had a baby. And he’d helped me a lot along the way. Especially one time when I really needed it.
So maybe now that Hanson had Lacey, he understood why I had just never been into playing the field. It seemed empty and meaningless, whereas what he and Lacey had— and what I used to have— was something that lasted and was more permanent. Or at least, that’s how it was supposed to be.
There was a time, just after Hanson had met Lacey, that I’d felt sick to my stomach thinking that I would never have the happily ever after I deserved. Now I could be happy for them, like a man should be for his best friend, but I couldn’t help but think of everything I myself had lost. Nor could I seem to let go of worry that I would never find anything like it again, because I couldn’t seem to stop focusing on the fucking past.
Once upon a time, I was certain I would have my own happily ever after. You always do when you have a woman on your arm and you see your future in her eyes. But I was young and stupid and that had been a long time ago. I was the new and improved version of me, trying hard to put idealist hopes behind me and become impervious to love. I wouldn’t allow myself to be heartbroken ever again.
The wind blew, warm and noticeable, the way Florida wind never really gets cold. I breathed in, and I could taste the ocean on the tip of my tongue. There was something about living this close to water that made me feel at home. Whenever I was inland, traveling with the team, I felt antsy until I got back to the coast.
I looked around the field, losing interest in the practice session. It was just a bunch of repeat exercises, and I had done so many of them myself it had made me sick.
The cheerleaders were training to the side of the field. Slender, flexible women did tricks that made me wonder what they could do in the bedroom if they could bend like that. I could think of a few ways to spend the night with one of them. They wore short shorts that left just enough to the imagination to make me think of sex, and tops that bared their stomachs.
They were every man out here today’s wet dream. By the looks of it, they had more attention than the guys on the field. In fact, the players were sneaking glances toward the cheerleaders as well. But even though I liked to look, thanks to my past, I never could seem to bring myself to give all of me to any girl no matter how hot she was.
“Alright, ladies,” a familiar voice said.
I whipped my head around, trying to look for the woman it had come from.
Could it be her? Could it really fucking be her?
“Take five, have some water. Then right back at it.”
I shivered.
The women jogged off. I scanned them, looking for the owner of that voice. It had tugged at something very deep inside me, but I couldn’t place it. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a little voice warned me that I didn’t want to know, either, but I shoved it away.
I needed to know who that voice belonged to.
The ladies returned to the field a few minutes later and lined up to do their r
outine again. Sexy bodies all in a row, but I most definitely wasn’t interested. What tiny spark of arousal I had had from looking at them was overtaken by the fact that I thought I had just heard her.
“Ready?” that same voice shouted. “Let’s go!”
I took a step or two closer to the cheerleaders. My eyes fell on their coach, and I realized that it really was her.
Sadie Anderson.
Fuck, I knew it was her voice. I should have listened to the little voice telling me not to find the owner of it, but, instead I listened to the stupid part of me that couldn’t help but do exactly that.
Now that I knew, I couldn’t push it all away again. There Sadie was, facing the cheerleaders. A dream. A nightmare.
Her raven hair was pulled back against her head into a ponytail. I couldn’t see her eyes from here, but they were burned into my memory. Gray, like a stormy sky. Slate when she was angry. Her body was taut and muscular. Sexy as fuck. She’d always been a cheerleader with raw talent for anything athletic.
It was interesting to see that after everything, she still ended up being part of that world. It’s funny how some things you could forget as if it never happened, and other things were ingrained into your very being forever.
Sadie was the one who got away. She was the woman who I had thought I would spend the rest of my life with. She’d been my high school sweetheart. We had taken each other’s virginity. She had been everything to me.
And then she had forgotten about me. Literally.
I took a deep breath and tried to forget about her all over again. But I was the unlucky son of a bitch that remembered everything, no matter how much I wanted to forget.
I always told myself— and I tried very hard to convince myself while staring at Sadie standing there— that maybe I could forget her, the way she had forgotten me. But no, I wouldn’t want that. If I forgot, I would be in danger of repeating the same heartache again. And I wasn’t sure I would be able to survive that. I’d barely survived it the first time, all those years ago.
