by N. K. Smith
“Now the right leg comes forward, knee to the ground. The left leg lifts to Sunbird. Bend your arms to Sunbird Bow.”
“Oh, God, help me,” Devon says.
“Shhh! This is supposed to be peaceful and meditative.”
“I’ll give you peaceful.”
Suddenly I’m lifted off the floor and I’m twisting in his arms.
His smile, coupled with his laugh, makes me feel a hundred times better. Slowly he spins us around. “I like all these mirrors in here. I wonder what I look like when we do it.”
“Like a fuck-hot guy.”
“Stickin’ it in his fuck-hot girlfriend,” he supplies the rest.
I like that Devon calls me his girlfriend, but the term reminds me of what just went down in my kitchen earlier. “Why didn’t you tell me about you and Julie? I could’ve handled the situation better.”
Devon puts me down. “No you couldn’t have. Julie decided as soon as I turned her down she was going to fuck with me, and I didn’t tell you because it wasn’t relevant to us. I mean, she seemed like she was staying away from me, and I didn’t want to drive a wedge between the two of you.” By the hips, he pulls me back to him. “Let’s not talk about Julie anymore, okay?”
“Well, you’re not letting me do any yoga, so what do you suggest?”
“Hmmm.” He makes a show of looking around the workout space. “Stay right here.” He grabs the stability ball from the corner and places it down in front of me. “I’ll make sure you get all stretched out and give you a workout worthy of this room. Sit.”
I try to comply, but he stops me to pull off my teal-colored shirt and my tight black yoga shorts. “Tell me the truth, you were doing some of those moves just to get me worked up, weren’t you?”
I feel heat rush to my cheeks. He is partially right. I would’ve done those postures with or without him here, but I placed him behind me for the exact reason he thinks.
“Bad girl,” he says with smack to my ass.
“No,” I say as I let him put gentle pressure on my shoulders to lower me down onto the ball.
“Good girl.”
I rub him through his mesh basketball shorts. When he gets completely hard, I wrap my fingers all the way around him and pull. “Say it,” I demand.
“Keep doing that. You’re a good girl.”
I pull his shorts down just past his hips and bring myself forward, using my abs to hold my body steady. Sitting on the ball puts me at the right height to bring his cock into my mouth without having to bend my neck or strain at all.
The head nudges the back of my throat, and I force myself to relax, to control the instinct to gag. When he moans, I look up at him. Devon stares into the mirror, getting a good show. He notices me looking, so he turns his eyes to me and smiles. With such a tender hand, he touches my face, then pulls his cock from between my lips.
“I want that,” I say.
He nods. “But I want your pussy rubbing on my face, and you need your workout, so shut up and give me what I want.” Devon is on his knees before I can protest.
Not that I want to. As he places my feet over his shoulders, the stability ball under my lower back, I let the sensations of his tongue and flesh wash over me.
Devon’s right. This is a workout. As I tighten my abs to hold myself steady, I know I’ll feel this tomorrow. I nearly fall when he inserts his finger into me. No, it can’t just be one. He has to be using two, maybe three, to stretch me out. He wiggles them inside of me. They bump and brush my G-spot; push and press against the walls of my vagina.
At just the faintest scrape of his teeth against my clit, my muscles clench tight, and I lose all reason and sense. “Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck,” I chant as I come. I don’t know how I’m held upright, but I don’t fall.
When I come back to myself, he tries to enter me, but I’m quick to roll off the ball onto my hands and knees, and suck his beautiful cock back into my mouth. I know he’s staring off into one of the mirrors, and I know that in this position, he can see my pussy, opened up for him. I want him to have a great show, so I stick my ass out more and move a hand to pull on the cheek to make sure more of me is exposed.
Devon moans, and his hips jerk. I want him to come like I just did. He is young and can get hard again.
But he withdraws after a minute and drapes me over the ball again, this time belly down. We watch ourselves in the mirror. Three of his fingers disappear inside of me. He doesn’t play with my clit and my arms are busy holding my body steady.
He pulls me up and shoves the ball closer to the mirror, then lays me back down as I was. “You’ve got the prettiest little pussy I’ve ever seen. And look at this ass,” he says into the mirror before smacking each cheek. He slips three fingers back inside, and he gathers saliva on the fingers of his other hand.
Our eyes connect in the mirror, but mine go out of focus when he starts rubbing my asshole.
Devon is slow and deliberate with his movements now. “Do you like that?”
“Uh-huh,” I answer. It’s not the first time I’ve experienced this. I know there is a lot of pleasure to be had fucking this way, and if he wants to give it a go, I’d be more than happy to let him.
But he doesn’t move to enter me like that. Instead, he keeps his finger in there as he guides the head of his swollen cock to my pussy with his other hand. He pushes in, and I can’t help but moan so loud it echoes.
I close my eyes because there is enough depth of sensation in just feeling him inside of me that the lights, the mirrors, and watching him fuck me would just be too much.
Devon uses a variety of speeds and movements to get me to come over and over, and finally, when he comes himself, we lie together on the hardwood floor, my head pillowed on his shoulder, his hand lazily trailing pictures over my back.
“I love making love to you,” he says.
It’s a beautiful statement, but it’s too similar to what Rodney Douglas said as he attacked me. I haven’t used the terms ‘lovemaking or making love since. I know Devon is sincere about his statement, so I try not to let my discomfort show.
“You know, I lost the best assistant I’ve ever had today.”
He bristles, almost to the point of sitting up. “I’m sorry,” he says in a voice that seems to say I need to get over it.
“No.” I sit up, looking down at him. “I don’t blame you for that, it’s just . . .”
“What?”
“I’m not sad she’s gone, so it must be that I . . . that I’m in love with you, too.”
“What?” he asks again, this time with a disbelieving tone.
I kiss him, and when it’s over, he whispers, “Say it again, please.”
“I love you,” I whisper back, both relishing it in delight and cringing at it in anxiety.
We both shift and without any effort, we come together again.
Chapter 9
Devon
“Well, here goes.” I flash a big smile at Liliana and I sign the contract that ties me to both the sequel and the third Tortured Desires films. I’m again struck with the fact my life has really changed, and it will never go back to the way it was. With the second film, my salary goes up, and because we’re signing for both films already, both Liliana and I have been given a bonus, plus the ability to renegotiate the salary for the final film.
Life has gotten a little expensive. I’ve hired a publicist like Cole suggested. Julie has no reason not to spill everything she knows about Cole and about me now that she has been fired. Martin came highly recommended. So far, he has proven to be good at what he does, so I feel great about having him by my side. Plus, I’m going to buy a car, pay off my sister’s college loan, and finish paying my parents’ mortgage.
I love this life.
Not only do I have money, but I’ve got the girl of my dreams. Never in a million years did I think I’d have Collette Stroud as a girlfriend. I used to lie in my bed at night and imagine flying around the world to go to premiers with her, and I used to
imagine all the sexy stuff that is now a reality too. How lucky am I?
The film is set to wrap in a few days. Cole has been busy as hell, so I decide to surprise her with something she will never expect. Xavier has agreed to help. He has already ensured her safety, so when Oscar drives her back to the hotel from the shoot, she won’t actually go to the hotel.
One of Cole’s security guards, Matthew, drives me to the rental house outside of the city. It cost a small fortune to get it for the night, but she’s totally worth it.
She usually pays for everything, and I really want to do something I could pay for. We haven’t had much time to be together, and while not having sex with her for the past week or so has taken a toll on me, what I find myself missing the most is just the simple feel of her in my arms as we relax together.
I’ve had to make do with texting thoughts to her. I’ve missed her voice, so I’ve been listening to Highland almost nonstop. While I have a full night planned filled with love making, food, and some general closeness, I can’t help but hope our evening or morning tomorrow includes some kind of music. I miss creating music with her.
As I wait for her, I double check all of the details: flowers, dinner, bed. They’re all as I want them to be.
“What are we doing Oscar? You know I don’t like sur—”
Cole’s voice trails off as she takes in the front room.
“Some surprises are nice, right?” I ask, a bit nervously.
Oscar stays out on the porch and closes the door behind him.
“What’s all this?” she asks.
When I’m next to her, I sweep her up into my arms and spin her around. “This is just something nice for the best woman I know.”
As I take her up the steps as a groom would carry his bride, I delight in how tight her arms are around my neck and shoulder. “I won’t drop you. I promise.”
“This probably costs a—”
“Don’t worry about. I just signed for the second and third movies and—”
“You did? But Anthony didn’t look at—”
“Never mind about all that. I just want to celebrate life with my girlfriend, is that okay?” My words are mixed with a laugh at the tail end.
“Yeah,” she whispers, and I set her down on the bed.
“So would you like your orgasms before or after dinner?” I’m rewarded with a laugh.
Cole’s chuckle stops when I cover her body with mine. Her legs bend, automatically allowing my hips to nestle comfortably between them.
I spend time sucking on her neck.
“Don’t mark me,” she says.
I switch to licking, then drop my attention down to her collarbone, pulling the collar of her shirt down. I know she won’t mind a little mark here, where it’s easy to cover up.
Cole lets out a little sigh as she rakes her nails over my scalp, fingers gliding through my hair. I deftly unbutton her gray button-down shirt with little pink pinstripes, then pull up the cups of her bra. The gray satin feels good against my fingertips. Mouth covering one nipple, fingers tweaking the other, I set to give her the best pre-dinner orgasm she has ever had. Then, after our bellies are full, I’m going to lay her out on the table and have my dessert.
The noises she makes are incredibly hot, and I wonder if she could come with just nipple-play. Her legs are clamped around me, and she uses the leverage to grind against me. I know Cole’s wet and wanting.
I pull back and undo her pants, then swoop down in to lick a line from between her breasts, down her torso, dip my tongue into her little navel, and then taste what skin is exposed between the zipper of her pants. Cole lifts her hips, and I tug her chinos off.
When she tries to grab my hard-on through my jeans, I back away and wag a finger at her. “Not yet.”
With a hand over her sternum, I press her back into the bed, then kneel down. Her feet rest on my shoulders and she drops her knees open to reveal the beautiful pink spot I dream about so often. As much as I want to, I don’t dive in right away; instead I lick her inner thighs.
Her muscles twitch.
I reach up as far as I can to suck on the cord of muscle that connects her thigh to her pelvis and grab a hold of her tits. She likes it and presses closer to me. I give her another squeeze, then slide my hold until her nipples are pinched between my thumbs and index fingers. Twist, pull, twist, pull. Cole moans as I play with her, but the pressure on my shoulders increase as she straightens her back to bring her pussy up.
She wants my mouth on her.
I look up, loving the way my eyes must travel the curves of her body to find her pale green eyes. They are eager and fiery. They want.
So I give my tongue to her. I flatten it out as I drag it over the little button between her legs. My cock jumps as she moans, our eyes never leaving each other. When I don’t make another pass at her clitoris, a crease forms on her brow. I give her another swipe and deliberately make her wait for the next one.
“Devon,” she whispers. “Devon, make me come.”
Without hesitation, I bring my whole mouth down on her sex as I suck, kiss, and lick her. Her hips won’t stay still. I have to bring one hand down to spread her open. It gives me better access, and she whimpers in need.
I abandon her breasts altogether, as I slowly insert a finger into her, then curl it upward. Her reaction is always the same: beautiful and glorious. I can feel her toes curl on my shoulders and her legs clamp around my head just for a moment.
When Collette releases me, I pump my finger into her and make sure I touch that sensitive spot inside each time. Her noises increase, as does the speed of the circle she makes with her hips. I want her coming against me. I want to taste the best part of her; the part I bring out.
I forget about my straining cock and how badly I want to sink it deep into her tight pussy. I forget about any other need beyond hers. She needs me to give her pleasure her until her muscles seize and she screams out, unable to keep her satisfaction inside.
I feel her moisture increase until it’s dripping off my chin. Her heels dig into the divots of my collarbone, and I hear her hands smacking down against the mattress. Her words are unintelligible, but I understand all I need to know.
Cole is coming. The gentle nudges of sensation have climbed the peak and now they’re rushing over her; her entire body and being floods with love, endorphins, and satisfaction.
I remove my mouth as she echoes through the orgasm because I know her clit will be sensitive now. I kiss the inside of her thigh, then her knee, then that hard calf muscle, then her ankle. After I place a kiss on the arch of her foot, I stand up, hover over her and kiss up her body. I trail her thigh, mound, navel, sternum, both breasts, hollow of her throat, behind her right ear, chin, nose, forehead, and then last of all, her mouth.
The kiss is lazy, the product of great fulfillment. I’ve given her all of the energy I can, and she has expended so much she can do nothing but lie there, blissful in contentment.
I pull away. “Dinner’s waiting.”
“What about you?” Cole pushes herself up and reaches for my groin again.
“I can wait.”
“But—”
“Pace yourself. I’m going to make love to you all night.”
“Jesus Christ, you weren’t kidding, were you?” Cole says later. She nods to the clock, and I laugh. It’s three in the morning, and finally I feel we’ve both had enough.
I roll onto my side and glide my fingers across her skin; it rises into gooseflesh, and she shivers. After I draw up the sheet and comforter, I ask, “Do you think you can sleep?”
Cole draws her hands up above her head, fingers dancing a little in the darkness, then lets her arms flop back down onto the bed. “You’re like a sedative.”
“So I’m boring? I put you to sleep?”
She smacks my arm, then presses in closer to me. Her head on my chest, I run my fingers through her fiery hair. “We should get a dog,” I say, expressing my thought as it occurs to me.
“A dog?”
“Yeah. I love dogs.”
“We should get a dog?”
I don’t know why she asks again, so with a grin, I repeat my answer. “Yeah.”
Cole rolls away, then scoots up the bed until she’s sitting with her back against the headboard. “The film’s wrapping in like a week, Devon.”
“I know.” I mirror her position.
“Things are going to change. You know that, right?”
“I get that. We’re not going to have the little safe bubble of the hotel and being removed from centers of celebrity like LA, but nothing else will change. I’ll still love you, and we’ll be filming together in New York soon.”
“I’ve told you, we have to be even more careful in New York. It’s not going to be—”
“Why do you always have to ruin things? Can’t we have just one night where you let me think we’re a normal couple?” Obviously, it’s the wrong thing to ask because I can see the anger etched on her face even through the darkness.
“Ruin things? I don’t always do anything. Our relationship is only a few months old; it’s a bit premature to say either of us are always doing anything.”
I touch her arm. “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean then?”
Digging my fingers into my eyes and rubbing briskly does not help me get on track. I’m always so confused with Cole. “You keep pointing out how things are going to be different; how there’s going to be all this pressure; how hard everything is going to be. I can never tell if you even want to be with me, or if those scare tactics are meant to drive me away.”
“What? Are you serious? The fact that I just spent hours fucking you doesn’t clue you into what I want?”
Nothing will be resolved tonight anyway, but as I swing my feet over the edge of the bed and bend down to retrieve my pants, I can’t help but say, “Even your words confuse me. Spent hours fucking? Because in my mind, we spent the night making love and—”
“We can call it whatever you like; it doesn’t change the—”
