They wanted a man to make them do the nasty shit they would never share with another woman, losing her mind in between the sheets, forgetting who she was. Taking on that alter ego that made her feel sexy and refuse to make apologies or justify why she was the way she was.
Women wanted a man that would fuck the shit out of them and have them walking funny the next day.
They wanted to be on their knees with a mouthful of dick, tears coming from their eyes, while they had their man stuck on stupid and unable to speak an intelligible word. They wanted to be splayed out before their man, losing control of their body while he sucked her soul straight through her slit.
And that’s what I gave them. In all of my characters, in almost every sex scene. And damn sure in the bedroom. Or, in this case, the kitchen.
It didn’t’ matter if it was a book or real life; I was serving up what they ordered.
It was who I was, and it was ingrained in my DNA deeper than my father’s genes.
I loved sex, and I loved pleasing a woman. Making her feel wanted and desirable. I specialized in that shit the same way I specialized in writing about it. Making a woman’s panties wet. Her pussy throb. Her nipples ache.
Heat rising inside of her body, clenching her teeth, moaning out in ecstasy. Whether she fantasized about my characters while she was with her man, or while she was knuckle deep inside of herself. No matter if she pretended, a man was attached to the other end of her vibrator.
I’d give them everything they asked for and some of the things they didn’t know they could have or even wanted.
But as much as I loved making a woman cum through the words I put on paper, there was nothing like being the one to give her that pleasure one-on-one. And that’s all I wanted to do with Peyton today.
I’d missed my shot the night of the fire to seal the deal. I wasn’t about to fuck that up again tonight.
Lifting Peyton onto the counter, I spread her legs and eased a couple of fingers inside of her. Her heart-shaped face grew flushed, and her thick lips parted, allowing a slip of her tongue to show.
With my other hand, I grabbed the back of her head and pulled her close. Our lips meshed in a hungry clash of wills to satiate a base need. Teeth clashing, tongues sliding across one another, licking the inside corners of her mouth.
Peyton jerked her hips forward, moving back and forth, sliding across my fingers. My dick twitched, wanting to get inside of her.
Breaking the kiss and my fingers’ connection with her pussy I backtracked across the kitchen, locating my pants for the condom I knew was there.
Violet irises sparkled bewitchingly, beckoning me back to her. She didn’t need to worry. I wanted to be there as much as she wanted me there.
“Are you good on what’s about to happen?” I asked.
“Yes,” she hissed.
“No, talk about mistakes later on?”
“None.”
Pulling her to the edge of her counter, I slid inside of Peyton, satisfied when she clenched around me. Her nails dug into my back, raking across the skin, leaving it raw as I slid back and forth.
Grunts and groans filled the air as we worked through our hungry desire for our bodies to be slaked. The temperature in the room combined with the heat of our copulation coercing sweat from our bodies.
“Fuck!” Peyton moaned.
“What?”
“I’ve gotta cum again, Bryce.”
“Not yet,” I said.
“I can’t control it.”
“Not yet,” I growled, pulling her ass off the counter and shifting her weight so that I was holding her.
I bounced her up and down on my dick, the sound of her ass smacking against my thighs, my balls slapping against her ass overriding the sound of the ice maker dropping ice cubes in the refrigerator behind us.
Peyton lowered her head again and kissed me, a moan from her throat, getting lost between our lips, as her wild dark hair made a curtain of privacy around us. I sucked on her lips, my hands squeezing her ass. Shifting her weight again, I dug further inside of her.
She felt so good, so hot all around me that I couldn’t help but wonder how she’d feel if I were raw inside of her. But that was a rule I’d never broken. One I hadn’t played around with no matter who the woman was. And I wasn’t about to change that now. No unplanned pregnancies on my watch.
I felt the explosion building up as she worked her hips in slow circular motions, making her pussy tighter as I drove deeper within. Squeezing my eyes closed, I lifted her to the tip of my dick and slammed her down slowly. I repeated the movement a couple more times before my speed ramped up.
“Bryce.”
“Peyton,” I grunted.
“Bryce!”
“Peyton?”
“I can’t control it. I gotta cum,” she cried.
“Cum baby. Cum,” I instructed as I slammed into her in rapid succession, my hips jerking as I drove up and back and up and back inside of her.
As Peyton released a high keening sound, my lips pulled back in a snarl, nostrils flaring, neck muscles expanding. I could only imagine I looked like an animal transforming.
I released a roar as my nut burst forth, filling the confines of the condom.
Peyton’s arms tightened around me as I stood in place, checking for my beating heart. When I was in control again, I walked her back to the counter.
Wrapping my fingers in her hair, I pulled on her strands softly, drawing her head back. Licking along the column of her neck, I came back up again and kissed her lips.
“Perfection,” I said.
The smile on her lips let me know that my job was done. But what she didn’t realize was that I was just beginning.
“Where are we going?” she asked when I lifted her into my arms.
“Your bedroom. Direct me,” I said.
She pointed over my shoulder and to the right a little. I stopped long enough to grab my wallet from my pants and then headed in the direction she instructed.
We forgot all about time and our trip, but rather spent time talking about our past, and about the weeks we’d been apart. We made apologies for misunderstandings and shared funny stories. And eventually, we turned to one another again, seeking comfort, bonding, and forgiveness.
This time I didn’t rush the process but took my time kissing her body all over. I allowed my fingers to explore the dips, curves, and grooves on her body as well as the flat surfaces.
The tips of my fingers and lips became familiar with her body the way a blind person familiarizes themselves with Braille. I inhaled Peyton’s scent, buried myself in between her legs and the cleft between her breasts.
My fingers combed her hair while her body gave way to mine. And the same way I took my time learning the lines and curves of her body, she did the same with mine.
Peyton’s fingers would linger in a spot a little longer when she found a groove or mark left from an old injury. She licked those places as if sending healing power through her tongue to correct some long-forgotten pain.
Slowly our bodies moved up and down and over one another in her little full-sized bed. We extended ourselves over one another as I opened her pussy lips to take another taste of what I deemed was heaven. And when she fit her mouth over me, releasing a deep moan, I closed my eyes and lay still for several seconds, basking in the moment.
A shudder ran through me as I almost came at just the sensation running through me from the heat and moisture of her mouth. How many times in college I’d imagined this moment? Not the quick fucks we’d had. But an intimate moment of making love and pleasing each other’s bodies, not rushing for anything.
Never had I realized it could be this intense. Perhaps it was because I hadn’t fully matured and was still a boy and not yet a man back then. Or maybe because my feelings for Peyton hadn’t grown to this level.
And what level was that I wondered, as I licked and sucked at her clit, my fingers easing in and out of her asshole.
My mouth stopped wo
rking, and my tongue ceased all action as the “L” word popped to the forefront of my brain.
“What?” she asked after several seconds of inactivity. My dick plopped from her lips as she stared over her shoulder at me.
I flipped her off me, moving from the sixty-nine position. Peyton was no longer facing the foot of the bed while my head was at the top. But instead, I grabbed her by the waist and turned her around to face me.
“What’re you doing?”
“Fucking the shit out of you,” I said, although I wasn’t talking to her. I was speaking to my demons as I prepared to chase away the thought that I’d fallen in love with her.
I grabbed a condom from my wallet and covered myself.
I slipped inside of her, amazed that she was as wet as she was the first time.
“This pussy’s so wet, just the way I like it.”
“Always has been for you,” she whispered.
“Huh?”
“I used to masturbate to thoughts of you fucking me,” she said.
“Aww, shit!” I said, speeding up as my balls hit against her.
Peyton’s pussy dripped all around my covered dick, and I wished that it were me that was covered in her. Not the damn condom.
My movements sped up, but no matter how fast I moved or how hard I pumped, the thought was still dancing around in my head. Taunting me like a little badass kid.
There had to be another way. I pulled out of her and turned her around. Spreading her ass wide, I aimed my dick and lined it up with her hole.
“You ever been fucked in the ass before?”
Peyton looked at me over her shoulder.
“Uh-huh.”
Even that thought bothered me. Why the hell did I ask?
I started shoving my dick inside of her asshole but was met with resistance.
“Thought you said you’d done this before.”
Peyton’s face turned red as she glanced away and then back again.
“Jake wasn’t...well, he didn’t have...he wasn’t as gifted as you.”
Sneering, I pushed her head onto the bed with one hand while the other held her lower back firmly in place.
“Bite the pillow,” I ordered, my voice inflected with steel.
I pushed, and she screamed. Pulling out, I rubbed my fingers around her slit spreading her juices.
“Don’t stop, baby. Fuck me like I stole something. Claim this ass,” she plead through clenched teeth.
“I’m not trying to hurt you.”
“Hurt me, motherfucker!” she begged.
Lining up again, I spread her hole open and guided myself in, forcing past the barrier, beyond the resistance until my dick began to disappear.
This time I allowed myself to drown out her cries.
“Fuck,” I muttered as I dropped my head back. “So tight.”
She was so tight, so perfect. Slowly and with precise control, I moved back and forth, making sure that what she felt was pleasure and not predominately pain.
After a while, Peyton began pushing back, moans, and mewling cries, escaping her as my fingers found their way to her clit. I massaged it while my dick slid in and out of her much easier than when it started.
Filling her pussy up with as many fingers as she could hold, I worked her ass over and over, hoping to purge my head from thoughts of the “L” word. This was just sex, wasn’t it?
Who the hell was I kidding?
“B...B...Bryce!” she cried out as she pumped her ass up against me.
I smacked her ass, loving the way it jiggled and how it turned red with an outline of my handprint.
“Let it go, my sweet girl.”
Whimpers escaped her throat as her body lost the little bit of rhythm she possessed. Seeing her come undone, unraveled like that because of me, did me in, too.
Within moments I was ejaculating inside of her tight ass.
And the thought of the “L” word was still sitting there like a little boy jumping on the trampoline, refusing to be ignored.
CHAPTER 21 – PEYTON
I’D EXPECTED THE RIDE out to the beach house to be awkward, but it was anything but that. Bryce filled me in on all the places he’d traveled over the last several years, along with the people he met.
He answered all the questions that I asked about his novels, giving me answers that he wouldn’t give to an interviewer. Although I loved the privilege of being his friend, I didn’t want to take that for granted.
So, I skipped the one question that was never sufficiently answered when posed by interviewers.
Who inspires your writing?
Every time I’d seen his written responses to these questions or heard him reply on a phone interview, his answer was still the same.
She knows who she is, and that’s all that matters.
Now that I know who Ryan Warren is, I also know the answer to that question. Bryce has always indisputably been a playboy, hands down, no questions asked.
So that response was to any woman who wanted to imagine that it was her. And she would be right. Every woman he’d been with was responsible for the art that he brought forth.
And now. Unfortunately, I could add myself to that list.
Now I’d allowed myself to get caught up in his charms. And all because I’d allowed myself to succumb to the secret hope that he felt about me the way I felt about him. When the truth was, he never said that. He’d never professed his love the way that I had.
Bryce glanced at me when we pulled up to the beach house.
“You good?”
“Yes,” I said with a wisp of a smile.
“No. Really good?”
Turning to him, I rested my head in my hands. “I said, yes.”
Bryce reached out and took my chin between his fingers. “Good, because I need you in a good place this weekend. Don’t try to think too deep into shit, okay?”
What was that supposed to mean?
He laughed. “See there you go again. I see it in your eyes.”
Bryce leaned in and kissed my lips softly before pulling back. “Nah, you’re not a test dummy for the record. I see that shit in your eyes. And I’m sorry that I ever put it there.”
“Then what is this, Bryce? Because we’re just going along, having sex, and kissing all over the place like a couple of horny rabbits, and we haven’t addressed this thing.”
“This thing?”
“Yes. I don’t know what it is, and I’m scared to define it. You guys always get upset about a woman putting titles on relationships or trying to define it, but ‘it’ has to be something.”
“Why?”
“Because Bryce. The same reason it’s always been a thing. I need order and understanding in my life. I need to know the expectations and parameters on every relationship in my life, whether it’s my father and mother or the mailman dropping off the mail.”
“You fucking the mailman?” he asked.
“No.”
Bryce narrowed his eyes with a laconic smirk.
“I didn’t.”
His fingers brushed back my hair from my forehead. “Okay, what do you want this to be?”
“You don’t get to do that, Bryce.”
“Do what?”
“Take the easy way out of this conversation by laying it at my feet.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“It sure feels like it.”
“Well, you’re the one that wants to label this thing we’re doing. So, since you’re the one that needs them, you need to be the one to tell me what it is.”
“And then what?”
“And then we’ll go from there. Try to work out something that works for both of us.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes,” he said, intertwining his fingers with mine.
Briefly, I changed the subject. “How did you feel when your identity was discovered? I never asked you about that.”
Blowing out a loud breath. “I felt two different ways about that. One, I was pissed as hell be
cause the anonymity and privacy I relish disappeared like a wisp of smoke. Two, I was relieved that I no longer had to worry about what would happen when people learned about it.”
“You’ve been the speculation of much gossip in the town and the source of fodder on entertainment news.”
Shrugging, he said, “I don’t give a damn about all that. The only thing that sucks is my loss of privacy when I go out in public.”
“Did they find out who told?”
“Not yet. But I’ve got some people on it.”
I laughed, smacking my hand against my forehead. “Look at you. All grown up with ‘people’ now.”
“Why’d you ask that anyway?”
“Because I wonder if the word got out that you have a little crush on me how it’d impact your sales.”
Laughing, he cupped the back of my head and pulled me to him. Bryce kissed my lips and then finished with several soft pecks. Just when I thought he would deepen the kiss, he pulled back.
“It’s deeper than a little crush, baby.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yes.”
His eyelids grew heavy, and his eyes were lust-filled with his response. It made me want to hop on his lap and fuck him right then. But that wasn’t about to happen. I noticed a couple of men coming down the driveway toward us.
“Shit,” he said, releasing my hand he’d been holding. “Here comes Kole and D.”
Instantly his soft, intimate mode changed to something more upbeat. Just as it used to when we were in high school, and they’d come around. The easy-going friendship and light banter we always enjoyed turned to something else, something distant, whenever his cousins were around.
“Peyton?” Darnell said, looking between Bryce and me.
“Hi, Darnell. It’s been a while,” I said, reaching my hand out to greet him.
He bounded around the car and opened the door, pulling me into his arms and hugging me. “Hey, girl! You’re looking good. It has been a while.”
“Who the hell is that you’ve got your arms around?” a woman called.
I turned around and saw a gorgeous brown-skinned woman coming in our direction.
Undeniable: A Friends To Lovers Romance (Love Desired Book 4) Page 14
