by C. L. Parker
“My cooch hurts, but other than that, I’m fine.” Except I really needed to pee, badly. So I rolled out of the bed and made my way in that direction.
Dez laughed. “Dayuuum! He put it on you like that?”
“Actually, my hymen is still intact, but I don’t know how long that’s going to last.” I stopped short when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. “Oh my God. I look like crap.”
“You always look like crap. So give me the deets. Who bought you? Is he hot?”
“Um, Noah Crawford. And yes, he is hot to the nth degree. Actually, I don’t even think ‘hot’ is an adequate description. The man is a raging inferno of flaming hotness,” I admitted, mostly because even though I couldn’t lie to my best friend, it would be blasphemous to lie about Noah Crawford’s level of hotness. The dude was off the charts.
“He’s flaming? So that means he’s gay? Aw, I’m sorry, hon,” she laughed.
“No, he’s not gay. At least, I don’t think he is,” I said, trying to smooth out my hair. “He buried his face between my thighs, so I’m guessing he’s really into girly bits.”
Dez gasped, obviously excited by this news. “He got his carpet munch on? Oh my God! Did you love it? You loved it, didn’t you? Wasn’t it the best thing—”
“Dez! Focus!” I said, trying to get her attention. “My pants were still on, so I still don’t have a clue, nor do I have much time on the phone. Let’s spend it talking about something important, yes? How are my folks? Did the money go through to the account?”
“The money is there, and damn, bitch … you went for two million? You’d think those pervs would want a woman of the world who knows how to show them a good time, but no, they want little Miss Innocence. I can’t say I understand that logic.”
“Dez,” I said, trying to rein her back into the conversation before she could go off on one of her tangents. “How is Faye?”
“I went by there earlier today to check on her. She’s the same, sweetie. No change,” Dez’s voice was more solemn. “But now we have the money for the operation, thanks to your courageous effort.” Dez sighed. “I really admire you, Lanie. Sacrificing your goodies like that and all? That’s really heroic. I’m serious as a heart attack.”
“Well, as long as it helps Mom it’s worth it, right?”
“Mmm-hmm. And there’s no shame in enjoying a little rat-a-tat-tat on your vag while you’re at it.”
I smiled and gave her a half laugh. “Yeah, I guess you would see it that way. Look, I have to go. Tell my folks that I’m swamped with freshman stuff, but I’ll call them the first chance I get, okay? And I sort of like you.”
“Sure thing, babe. And I sort of like you, too,” she said with a hint of sentimentality to her voice. At least, as much as she was capable of. “Clit licks and tit nips, bitch!”
I hung up the phone and decided to grab a quick shower. When I was done, I walked into the bedroom to dress, but I couldn’t find my things anywhere. I even looked in Noah’s massive closet and still nothing. So I grabbed one of his dress shirts, which thankfully was long enough to cover my nakedness. Yeah, I knew it was probably going to tick him off, seeing as how he was all OCD over his clothes, but surely he didn’t expect me to walk around naked all the time.
I brushed my teeth and looked myself over in the mirror, satisfied that he was going to flip his wig, but he would definitely tell me what he did with my things if for no other reason than to get me out of his. Then I hightailed my ass down the stairs before I ended up pissing him off for keeping him waiting so long. Again, not because I cared, but because I wanted to see his pretty, pretty face when he did get pissed.
He was sitting at the head of the table when I entered the dining room—er, excuse me, dining hall. The placement to his right was set for me, I presumed, and I took my seat. Noah looked me over from head to toe, taking in my current state of undress, and I watched him swallow hard.
“I hope you don’t mind. I really had no choice since all of my things are gone. What did you do with my clothes?” I asked.
“I’d planned on taking you shopping this afternoon, so I had the help dispose of your other things,” he said, picking up his napkin. “I didn’t realize you’d be sleeping all day. My apologies.”
He disposed of my things? “You can’t just get rid of my stuff!” I screeched.
“I didn’t get rid of everything. Just the clothes,” he said dismissively. “They weren’t up to par with my lifestyle.”
“Well, aren’t we just the elitist? I’m sorry I didn’t come prepared for your ritzy lifestyle.”
“No apologies necessary,” he said, quite seriously. “We’ll take care of that tomorrow. Although I have to admit that you do look rather delicious in my shirt.”
The way he was looking at me, you’d think I was an all-you-can-eat buffet and he hadn’t had a meal in days. It was at the point where he licked his lips that I forced myself to look away, suddenly becoming very interested in the actual buffet before me. All three courses of the meal were already laid out: salad to start, a juicy steak and baked potato, and a slice of three-layer chocolate cake with a side of vanilla ice cream for dessert.
I unfolded the napkin and laid it in my lap. “Did you make all this?”
“I’m a multimillionaire. I don’t have to cook,” he said, picking up his fork and stabbing his salad. “I pay people to do this for me.”
“I see. Sort of like how you pay for pussy?” I asked, and then took a sip of water from the goblet in front of me.
Noah choked on the bite of salad he had just taken, and I gave myself a mental high five while smirking around the rim of my glass.
“Why is that, anyway?” I asked, not the least bit concerned for his welfare.
“That subject is not up for discussion,” he said, taking a drink of wine. “How are you feeling? Any bleeding or cramping?”
Until he mentioned something about it, I’d almost forgotten about my little excursion to the twat doc. “Well, that’s a personal question, but if you must know—”
“I must, and nothing about your body is a secret from me for the next two years. The sooner you get used to that idea, the better this situation will be. Now, you were saying?”
I gritted my teeth together, trying my damnedest not to tell him to go fuck himself, even though that might have actually been sort of hot. Mentally picturing that scene, I needed to do a quick count to ten in my head before I felt reasonably calm enough to answer his question. “The cramps have subsided, and I haven’t had any bleeding at all. So does that mean you’re going to fuck me now?”
“Yes. How about right here on the table?” he said facetiously as he made a show of testing its durability with a shake. He gave me a crooked grin to make sure I knew he was only joking. “I think I can allow you to have the evening off to recuperate. I know you hate me and must think some pretty terrible things about me, but I’m not a monster. I am capable of showing a little compassion every now and then, you know.”
Double Agent Coochie was already strapping on her hooker heels to perform her table dance and was beyond disappointed when he took it all back. She was threatening a revolt, but I mentally stomped that slut in the face and told her to simmer down.
“Have you called anyone to let them know you’re okay?” he asked, cutting into his steak.
I wasn’t really sure how I was supposed to respond to that. If I told him the truth, it might piss him off enough that he would decide to take my phone away from me. But he hadn’t established any rules regarding having contact with family or friends, plus he knew I had my cell. I hated to lie, because one lie almost always led to another, which led to another, until you’d woven one heck of a web of deceit that was near impossible not to get caught up in. Plus I was still looking forward to watching his pretty, pretty face in one of his pissy tantrums. So, screw it, I told him the truth.
“I talked to my best friend, Dez, before I came down to dinner.”
“And your parent
s?” he asked, his face not showing any indication that he was upset by my admission.
I was disappointed, to say the least … and I also had to snatch Double Agent Coochie’s hooker heels from her and grind one into her sassy little mouth.
“They think I’m away at school. I’ll have to call them eventually, but they can’t know where I am or what I’m doing. It would kill them.”
Noah nodded and tented his fingers under his chin. “That’s understandable. But I want you to feel free to keep in touch with whomever you need to. As long as you’re holding up your end of the deal and not trying to break our contract, you’ll have most all the freedoms you enjoyed before you came to me.”
“Most?” I asked, arching a brow in question.
“All except for your body, of course. That belongs to me,” he clarified.
“So I can leave the house whenever I want?” I asked, testing the limitations.
“I expect you to be here when I am here, unless I have preauthorized an outing. I say preauthorized because I want to know where you are at all times. Plus, there may be times when I feel the need to come home during the day for a little stress relief,” he said with a crooked grin.
Let me clarify: that wasn’t just any crooked grin. My pussy was leaking at an abnormal rate and I feared for the safety of the expensive fabric that lined the chair I was sitting in. My nipples were at full attention and I pulled my shoulders forward, hoping my hussified reaction wouldn’t be noticeable. But it didn’t stop there. Oh, no, I was apparently on a roll with my newfound whorishness.
“And are you feeling stressed now?” I asked in a sultry voice.
Don’t ask me where that came from. I didn’t even recognize my own voice. Apparently I had let my guard down just enough to allow my hoochie of a coochie to get the drop on me, going straight for the verbal function of my brain and setting up camp. That was my story, and I was sticking to it.
Noah chuckled and licked his bottom lip, which really sort of pissed me off because I kind of wanted to do that. “Let’s see. I have an incredibly sexy woman in my house, whom I’ve paid some major dough to have my way with anytime I want, yet I can’t because I’ve brought a bit of discomfort to her. So, yeah, I guess you might say I’m a tad bit stressed.”
Double Agent Coochie found the part of my brain that controlled my motor skills and planted her flag. I had lost all control of my own body. I laid my napkin next to my plate and pushed away from the table. Noah kept his eyes trained on me the entire time. As I walked toward him, he sat back in his chair and tilted his head to the side with his eyebrows furrowed in question, waiting to see what I intended to do. I slid between him and the table and sank down to my knees.
“What are you doing, Delaine?” he asked, his voice deep and husky.
“Stress management.” I smiled, unfastening his belt with an unbelievable amount of confidence.
“I thought I told you that you have the night off,” he said, scooting his chair back a bit to give me more room.
“You did.” I unzipped his pants and laid the flaps open as I kissed along the bulge just under his Calvin Kleins.
Noah ran his fingers through my hair and then cupped my chin, lifting it so that I met his gaze. “If you keep that up much longer, I’m not going to be able to stop you.”
“Then don’t,” I said, dipping my head down to continue my previous actions.
He pushed his chair back further until he was out of my reach. “Not until I’ve had my dessert.”
Without warning, he lifted me up and sat me on the edge of the table, pushing the dinner dishes away. His hands were on both of my knees as he spread my legs and pulled himself closer. Then he moved up my thighs slowly, dipping under the hem of his shirt and pushing it up along the way.
We both watched as he revealed my nakedness beneath, and I gasped when I heard a feral growl from deep in his chest. I had always kept myself sufficiently groomed in that area because, well, you just never knew when you might end up in some sort of freak accident and someone might have the need to see something down there.
He licked his lips while ogling my cooch, and then he finally lifted his eyes to mine. “I’m sure you won’t mind if I kiss this and make it all better.”
Without waiting for my response, he spread me wider and began to suck the skin on the inside of my left thigh.
“Um, Noah?” I started in a shaky voice.
“Hmm?” he hummed as he continued to work his way up my thigh.
“Do you really think the dining room table is the best place to do this? I mean, it can’t be very sanitary.”
“I eat all my meals at the table,” he mumbled against my thigh.
I suppose he had a point, and I probably wasn’t going to win that argument, even if I really wanted to. Besides, it didn’t matter because by then, he’d reached my center and his nose was nuzzling my love nubbin. I felt his tongue run along my folds and I grabbed on to the hair of his head to hold on because it felt like the world was spinning way too fast.
“You smell so good, Delaine. And you taste even better.” He moaned against my pussy, and then his hand ran along the underside of my thigh to lift my leg, draping it over his shoulder. I watched as he lapped at my center, and then he captured my clit with his lips and sucked chastely before flicking it with purpose. He looked up at me and winked while his serpent-like tongue sped up, and a pleasure like I’d never known shot through my body and my head dropped back.
“Look at me,” his husky voice commanded. “I want you to watch me feed on you.”
“Oh, God,” I groaned, lifting my head to obey.
First one and then another finger disappeared inside me and began to move in and out while the fingers of his other hand spread my lips apart. He sucked my clit into his mouth, latching on and doing this unbelievable thing with his teeth and tongue that I couldn’t see, but I sure as hell felt. Then he pushed his fingers all the way in to the knuckles and curled them back and forth, and I couldn’t help the porn-star-like moan that came from somewhere in the back of my throat.
“Mmm, you like that, don’t you?” He flattened his tongue out, taking a long lick from my opening to my clit, where he resumed his suckling.
“That’s … sweet Jesus. So amazing,” I groaned through heavy pants.
My chest heaved and my grip on his hair tightened as I pulled him toward me with each grind of my hips into his face. He hummed in appreciation, apparently approving of the fact that I was showing him what I liked most. His fingers left my opening and I whined in protest, but then I saw that he had a spoon full of ice cream. He smirked before dropping a small dollop right on my clit. I gasped at the chilling sensation against my overheated nub and nearly lost all of the control I had. Noah bit down on his bottom lip as he watched my reaction and then surged forward, roughly devouring my pussy and licking it clean of the sweet cream.
A coil was beginning to tighten in the pit of my stomach, and I recognized it from the bath earlier. Every muscle in my body tensed and my thighs were involuntarily trapping his head between them. Seriously, it was like my pussy had morphed into a Venus flytrap, unwilling to let the awesomeness that was Noah Crawford’s face escape.
Noah sucked harder on my clit and then shook his head back and forth, which just about sent me over the edge, but then he buried his face as close as he could between my legs, licking, sucking, moaning, and humming. His fingers moved in and out, curling back and forth. I couldn’t take it anymore. Feeling him, seeing him, hearing him—it was too much. Like sensory overload or something equally mind-numbing.
My whole body shuddered as the coil finally sprang free and my eyes squeezed shut. Blue and black spots flickered behind my eyes as I bit my bottom lip and moaned out my orgasm. Wave after wave pulsated through my body as Noah continued to lick and suck. When the intense pleasure finally subsided and my body relaxed, he stopped and looked up at me while licking his lips.
“There. All better?” he chuckled with the sexiest
grin on his face.
“Mmm-hmm,” I barely eked out, nodding my head like only an idiot would.
He sat back in his chair, remnants of the ice cream and my juices glistening on his chin. I was so mortified that I actually blushed. I mean, that much wetness couldn’t be normal, could it?
“Pussy à la mode—my favorite.” He grabbed his napkin, wiping his mouth and chin.
I pulled the shirt down to cover myself and hopefully some of my embarrassment, and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
“You still haven’t had my cherry,” I said suggestively.
Noah let out a hearty belly laugh, rubbing his hands over that pretty, pretty face, which had been buried in my vajayjay just minutes before. I’d come down those stairs wanting to see him pissed, but this was so much better.
“Eager, are we?” he asked. “Well,” he shrugged his shoulders and then slapped his thighs as he stood and hooked his thumbs under the band of his fuck-her-wear. “If that’s what you really want …”
Realization smacked me like a Mack truck and my eyes widened as my legs instinctively snapped closed. “No!” I shouted, louder than I probably needed to. “I’m … I’m still sore.”
It was an outright lie. I knew it. Double Agent Coochie knew it. And, more important, he knew it.
“Is that right? Hmm, well I could always make you,” he said, using that husky voice that made my insides dissolve into a puddle of goo.
He took a step toward me and lifted my chin to give me a soft kiss, and then another, and one more. His hands roamed over my shoulders, down my arms, and around my waist as I fought to keep my whorish thighs from opening up to invite him in.
Noah broke away and trailed kisses along my jaw to the sensitive spot below my ear. “Soon,” he whispered as he cupped my face in his hands and took my bottom lip between his.
He pulled away and cleared his throat. “I have some work to do tonight if I’m going to be able to take you shopping tomorrow,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “You can do whatever you want in the meantime.”
