by Jo Raven
I’m so confused.
“If I push you too much, if I ever fucking hurt you in any way, you need to tell me right away, okay? I have to know I’m not hurting you.”
I nod.
Not his fault I wish for more. Any pain I may feel once he’s done with me will be my fault and nobody else’s.
Enough. I kiss him again, before he gets to say anything else, and shove my fears down deep, daring them to stop me from snatching what little happiness and pleasure I can.
He falls into the kiss, thrusting his tongue against mine, our teeth clashing, lips melding together. His hands stroke down my back to my ass and squeeze, sending delicious shivers straight to my core. My body is a live wire, his every little shift and touch sparkling through me, shaking me, making me burn.
“Holy shit…” He slides his hands up my ribcage to the front, puts them over my breasts, and I pant at the pleasure coursing through me. “You’re smoking hot, baby.”
His words, his fingers clamping on my nipples, his erection pressing into my belly make me moan and writhe. My pussy is throbbing, clenching uselessly. I need him. Need to feel him inside me.
“Seth.” I moan when he rocks against me. “Please.”
“What do you want?” he breathes. “Tell me.”
“Inside me. Oh God…” I can’t believe how much I need it, I need him. Never felt like I’ll weep, like I’ll die if he doesn’t do it. If he doesn’t push that big cock into me all the way.
Jesus.
Before I freak out at myself, he reaches for something on the low table. His wallet, I realize, from which he pulls a square foil.
A condom. Right. Christ, can’t believe I wasn’t even thinking about protection in my desperate need of him.
Shit, what’s happening to me? Why am I still sitting in his lap, throbbing between my legs, my breasts aching—why did I come back here and tell him I wanted what he’d offered? Oh crap, what—?
“Hey. Still with me?” He stills in the process of rolling the condom on his cock, and as my eyes focus again, my mouth waters. No guy’s cock has any right to make me salivate.
Except this one apparently does. Without conscious thought, I lower my hand to it, outline the flared crown through the rubber, the thick vein running on the underside, all the way down. His hard length twitches under my touch, his stomach clenches and he grabs my arm, breathing deeply through his nose.
When I look up into his eyes, he smiles, a sexy curl of his full lips—and the heat is back, scorching me.
I look down at his hard-on, lick my lips. “Please.”
He groans. “Fuck, say it again.”
“Please, Seth,” I whisper. “I want you inside me.”
“Goddammit.” Suddenly he twists and lowers me on the sofa. I’m flat on my back, and he’s between my legs, braced on his hands over me, his cock rubbing on my folds, spreading me open. “Hold on to me.”
He lifts my legs, one after the other, drapes them over his hips, wraps them around his waist—and oh God, the tip of his cock nudges at my entrance. I throw my arms around his neck as he presses into me, my head falling back at the incredible feeling of his cock slipping into me, filling me.
Just when I think I can’t take any more of him, he stops, lips parted, breathing ragged, his chest rising and falling, making his dark ink dance. He’s looking down at me, and I’m transfixed by the intensity of his gaze. There’s a question in his eyes, and I nod.
Yes. Please. More.
One side of his mouth tips up in a crooked smile that makes my breath hitch, and he starts to move. Pulls out, a long, slow drag that has me squirming, and then pushes back inside, a deep, smooth slide that makes me arch on the sofa. Pleasure pools deep inside of me, threatening to drown me, and I claw at his shoulder blades, trying to anchor myself.
This is… huge. I can feel it building in my core, a gathering tempest, an impossible pressure that’s bound to shatter me to a million pieces. I buck against him, and as if he’d been waiting for my signal, he lowers his head, puts his mouth on mine, and starts moving faster.
Good God. What he’s doing now, rocking in and out of me fast and hard, it’s pushing me so fast toward the edge I can’t find the brakes. I moan helplessly in his mouth as the pressure crests and I clench around his length so hard I see stars.
He breaks the kiss, draws a hissing breath. “Fuck…” His hips roll, his cock swells more, triggering mini explosions in my core, and then he comes with a low groan. I feel the warmth of his cum through the thin rubber, and Christ, I clench around him even harder, pleasure spiking through me again, taking me apart.
He collapses on top of me, muttering something I can’t make out, as I sob for breath and wrap myself around him like a starfish. I need him close, closer, like I’d climb into him and curl there. Safe. Happy. Warm.
He shifts, rolling off me, gathering me in his arms and kissing my hair as if I’m something precious to him.
And now I have tears rising to my eyes. Crap. I wish he didn’t pretend so well that he cares. He’s really good at this. So good I can almost believe it.
***
It’s Sunday. The realization hits me as I blink at a cracked ceiling with a warm, solid weight at my back and over my ribs. No idea what triggered that random thought. Maybe it’s the fact I’m not alone in the room, and despite the crick in my neck I’m comfortable and content to lie where I am, not moving.
Not to break the spell, the dream-like quality of the moment. The way my heart fills with happiness when I realize the band weighing over my ribs is his arm, his other wedged under my head in guise of a pillow, and his strong body is fitted to the curve of my back.
We’re spooning.
My pulse speeds up. Oh God, it’s… sweet. Never done this with a guy before, and it makes me all tingly and fuzzy inside.
His breath ruffles the hair on top of my head. His chest rises and falls, pressed to my back. I can feel every breath he draws, feel his steady, slow heartbeat.
I study the ink on his arm, afraid to move, not to wake him up, tracing with my eyes the dark whorls and lines, up to the snake covering his shoulder. He has fine dark hairs on his forearm. His hand is large, the fingers long, the nails blunt and square, and then there’s the scar I noticed before—old, white, running from the inside of his wrist down to his palm.
It fascinates me even more than his ink, and I run my fingertip over it, following the upraised skin up to his wrist. Strange that he didn’t try to cover it up with a tattoo, I think, as he shivers, his flesh breaking into goosebumps.
“Manon?” His voice is heavy with sleep, deep, resonating through me.
Freezing, I wait to see what will happen. All uncharted territory to me. Never slept with a boyfriend before—even a pretend boyfriend. Never woke up with one.
“Morning.” He shifts behind me, nuzzling my hair, and something long and hard pokes my ass.
Oh God, he’s aroused. Solid hard. Fire shoots up my belly as he snuggles closer, shifting again, trying to accommodate his erection.
“You’re awake,” he whispers.
“Yeah.” I lay my fingertips over the scar. “What made this?”
“What…?” He shivers again when I stroke it. “Oh fuck.”
“Looks like it was bad.”
He groans. “It was. Knife.”
“How did it happen?”
“My stepdad happened. High on drugs. Tried to cut me up.”
Shit. I twist, trying to turn, to look at his face, but he won’t let me. “My God. What did he do to you? Did—?”
“I’m okay, it was… Fuck. It’s over.” He pulls his hand away.
“Where was your mom? Were you home alone with him?”
“She was there, stoned out of her fucking mind.” He groans. “Listen… it’s too early for this shit.”
I grab his wrist again. “Please.”
He stills, his breathing quick and uneven. “What now?”
“If you were my boyfriend…”
I swallow hard. “I’d want to know.”
“Fuck.” It’s quiet and heartfelt, so much so I want to take it back, back away, let him be.
But I can’t. “You said you thought your mom was dead. What happened?”
“What do you think happened? She left. Never called or came back. I thought she died.”
“You were close?”
“Ha. Good one.”
“You weren’t.”
“Not by a long shot. For one, she was never there, and even when she was, she was high, or low, depending on what she was using. She took my money, money I stole or made with small jobs. She often had her boyfriends at home, motherfucking bastards, so I made sure I was never there. End of story.”
My heart is in my throat. Jesus. “They beat you?”
He laughs, and the sound is like a blade, sharp and cold. “Yeah, they beat me. Then I grew up, moved out, and that was that.”
“Where did you go?”
“To Shane’s house. It was good, and I managed to straighten up and go to school for a while, too. Those were… they were good times. Until they were over.” His voice roughens, and he swallows audibly.
“What happened?”
“Then Shane’s mom died in an accident, and he went off the rails. I tried to help him, but by then…” His breath makes a strange hitching sound. “By then it was too late for that, and my own mom fucked me up.”
“Fucked you up? What do you mean?”
“It doesn’t fucking matter what I mean.” He rolls away, his arm lifting, leaving behind cold. “Nothing fucking matters. She had her boyfriend break me, then they took off, left me for the police to find. So she’s still dead to me. Nothing’s changed.”
Oh God.
I finally turn around to face him, and the pain in his eyes is heart-wrenching. “You’re here. That’s all what matters.”
“You can stop, you know?” He sits up, swings his legs off the couch. “Stop playing for a sec, stop pretending.”
He makes as if to get up, and I throw my arms around his neck. “I’m not playing. I’m happy you’re here. I’m so sorry for what happened to you in the past. You’re safe now.”
“Shit, I wish that was true,” he whispers, and I can’t take it anymore. I want to erase the pain from his gaze, from his mind, make sure he’s okay.
I kiss him. I cup his rough jaw and pull him to me. This boy isn’t mine, but God I wish he were.
He wraps a hand around the back of my head, deepens the kiss, and shit, I’d forgotten he was naked. Like, one hundred percent bare, and also still hard. As he hauls me onto his lap, my body reacts, my breasts tightening painfully, a throb starting between my legs.
“If you were my girlfriend,” he mutters against my lips, “the first thing we’d do on a Sunday morning would be to fuck.”
Chapter Fifteen
Seth
She kisses me. I don’t know why her eyes seem wet, or why she clutches me like I’m about to vanish into smoke. She doesn’t know my past, has barely scratched the surface. Fuck, if she knew…
So I kiss her back, needing the distraction, needing to forget myself in her sweet taste, her hot body. The body of the one girl I’ve ever truly wanted, and my dick hardens more when she presses her tits to my chest and her hands to my shoulders.
Oh yeah, baby. More.
I nip at her lower lip and try to decide how to do this. With her sitting like this, in my lap? Lay her down on the sofa like last night? Have her on all fours so I can play with other parts of her? Bend her over the sofa?
Shit, I have to bury myself in her, feel her around me. After tearing at the scabs in my mind, leaving each memory raw and bleeding, I need her.
Gotta lose myself in her. Can’t bear being inside my mind right now, but she shoves me back. Fuck. What if she doesn’t want it? What if last night wasn’t as great for her as it was for me?
Son of a bitch.
“Lie back,” she says breathlessly and shoves me again, a little poke on my pecs.
Her tits sway in front of me, dark nipples taut and tempting, as I let her push me onto my back. I don’t know what’s on her mind, but her soft mouth pulls into a pleased little smile and something softens in my chest, some hard shell I forgot was there.
Then her hand trails over my dick, and the thought fizzles out. Heat races to the root of my cock, enveloping my tight balls, and my hips jerk up, pushing into her grip.
“Fuck, I wanted…” I have to stop for breath as she slides her small fist up and down, shooting sparks of pleasure into my belly. “Wanted to be inside you when I come. Feel you coming around me.”
Her eyes widen at my words, and then darken. She leans over me, her hard nipples teasing my chest. My hard-on slides against the softness of her belly, leaving wet trails, the pleasure condensing into a hard ball of need in my gut.
“Show me,” she whispers, her lashes like black lace on her pale cheeks. “I want to know.”
“Know what?”
She sits back on her heels, sliding her hand over my chest, down to my straining cock. “How to pleasure you.”
“What…?” I can’t take my eyes off her hand. Her hand on my dick, stroking up and down. “You’re doing it. Fuck…”
The muscles in my stomach are already clenching, the pressure building behind my balls.
“I want to taste you,” she clarifies, although my brain has some trouble making sense of words right now. “Go down on you.”
“Fuck, yeah...” The blood is too hot in my veins, my muscles locked up and trembling with my effort not to shoot my load right here and now. My cock jerks, leaks. I’m so turned on I’m about to explode all over her pretty tits. “Just put your mouth on it, lick it, suck it… Play with it. It’s all yours, babe.”
My dick, my body, my mind. My goddamn soul.
Uncertainty flickers over her heart-shaped face, those dark-green eyes, and fuck, she’ll bolt. She may be brave in many things, but this is an area that makes her damn nervous, and although I love how she wants to try, I don’t want her doing it if she’s not comfortable.
“It’s okay,” I tell her. “You don’t have to do this.”
My cock twitches sorrowfully, weeping in her hand.
Yeah, boy. I know. You and me both.
“I said I want to taste you,” she says, her voice low and husky, and oh Christ, she’s killing me. “Very much. I’ve been thinking about it.” She looks away, her nipples bunching up more. “You’re so hot.”
Oh fucking hell.
Words turn me on. Voices turn me on. Maybe that’s why I always tell the girl I’m with what I’ll do to her, what she’s doing to me. But this girl… She does it for me every time, in every way.
I mean, hell, she thinks I’m hot. Plus, she wants to know what I taste like. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.
So excuse me while I reach for my cock and squeeze it hard to keep from coming on the spot. I grit my teeth, chew on the inside of my cheek. As it is, my cock jerks once, about to go off, and precum leaks from the small slit and over my fingers, coating my hand.
Her hand closes over mine, tugs. She slides over me like water, between my legs, her silky hair draping over my thighs, and then her mouth is on my cock, her lips around the head, hot and tight.
I try to speak, but all the blood’s rushing to my junk, leaving me lightheaded and stupid. An inarticulate sound leaves my throat when she takes me in deeper. Fuck, this is off the charts. Having my dick sucked isn’t new to me—hell, on the street it was the one thing I could count on when I was with a chick, as anything else required more privacy—but this… Manon giving me head is, fuck, it’s mind-blowing.
Because she’s the one I want, the one I’m set on.
Dammit, Seffers, don’t fucking go there.
Not again. Not now, not when her tongue swirls under the head, pressing against the vein beating there, making me arch right off the sofa.
Fuck, that’s so damn good. I lift my arms over my head,
grip the armrest as I fight not to drive my cock deeper into her sweet mouth. A groan is building deep in my chest. Fire burns, spreading through my dick. This will go down as the quickest blowjob in history.
Only, she pulls back, letting the head of my cock pop out of her lips.
Shit. My hips lift, my dick seeking in vain the heat and pressure, and the air on the wet crown is cool.
“Manon…” Her name comes out strangled. I’ll fucking beg if I have to. I need to come. She really is trying to kill me. “Goddammit.”
“Does it feel good?” she asks, and I nod frantically, not sure I can speak.
“Yes,” I force the word out, because she seems to be willing to wait. “Yes.”
“I’m doing it right?”
“Yeah.” I finally notice how unsure she looks. “Perfect. You are so perfect, so sexy.” I want her to know that. “If you put your hot mouth on me again, baby, I’m gonna come like a firework. Fair warning.”
The uncertainty lifts from her gaze, and she smiles—a smile full of happiness. Not expecting it, I’m struck speechless by its beauty.
“Good. I want you to feel good. Wish I could take away all that hurts you, too, but this will do for now.”
And before I have the time to process what she’s telling me, make sense of it, she swallows me again, so deep there’s no way to stop the orgasm from slamming into me. I can’t even warn her as my balls lift and my dick jerks, pouring my cum into her mouth. I cry out, the first wave tearing through me like a gale, my whole body shaking with the goddamn force of it.
The second wave hits, wrenching a moan from deep inside me, the pleasure rolling me under, darkening my vision. I’m vaguely aware the heat around my cock vanishes, the cool air almost too much. Something warm closes around the base, though, and it’s enough to make me jerk again and splash another load of jizz on my chest.
I blink up at her dizzily. She’s wiping a trail of cum running down her chin. Shit. I lift my hand to cup her cheek, but before I ask if she’s okay, she smiles again.
God, that smile will be my undoing.
“Gimme a minute,” I mutter, trying to catch my breath, and fumble by the side of the sofa for my already dirty T-shirt to wipe my chest clean. “Then I’ll take care of you.”
