by Pippa Grant
“Fuckin’ right,” Eloise says.
Sia wrinkles her nose. “You’re all disgusting.”
“Okay, pot,” Willow chimes in, and everyone cracks up.
But as much fun as this is, I’m about done for the night. I rise and pull Knox up with me. “We’re heading out. Catch you guys later.”
“Obvious much?” Sia teases.
I flip her off, much to the further amusement of everyone at the table, and follow it with a pointed glare at my brother. “Stay. Here.”
“He’s got reading to do,” Knox says, and look at that—the birds are flying tonight.
Knox ignores Gavin’s middle finger and slides a hand around my waist. “Let’s go get your guitar and get out of here.”
Sounds perfect to me.
24
Parker
I can hardly believe this is happening.
We’ve made it out the juice bar, across town on the subway, and now we’re stumbling down the hall to my apartment, kissing and stroking and melding our bodies together as much as all this damn fabric between us will allow. Knox has to take over unlocking my door, because I’m physically incapable of operating my thumbs.
We crash through the door, I slam it shut, he locks it and drops my guitar on the floor, and then we’re pawing each other’s clothes off on our way into the bedroom, tripping over my dirty laundry as we go. I tug his new shirt with my band’s picture on it over his head, peeling off his other shirt with it. He pushes my tank top up, buries his head between my breasts, and pushes them together, and licks the valley between them.
I gasp and grip his hair. “Ohmygod, more.”
His thumbs brush the satin of my bra over my nipples while he takes his tongue to my cleavage again, and I almost come on the spot.
“Delicious.” He blows on the damp skin between my breasts, and I clutch his hair tighter.
I need him to touch me. I need him to touch me between my legs and stroke me and fill me and I need him to do it now, because I just played a fucking amazing show and spent an eternity of a subway ride worried one of us would get bored with waiting and I’m so ready and so empty.
I’ve never been this turned on by a man before, and if we don’t get to the good stuff soon, I’m afraid I’m going to lose the rhythm and I’ll ruin this for both of us and—
He unhooks my bra one-handed, pushes it out of the way, sucks my nipple into his mouth, and I come unhinged.
“Ohmygod more ohmygod more ohmygod more.”
“That’s it, kitten,” he purrs against my breast. “You tell me what you want.”
“More,” I repeat.
In one swift move, he has me on the bed, thank god, because the only thing my legs are capable of doing is spreading so he can settle that hard, thick ridge between my thighs while I dry-hump him like an addict who hasn’t had her Knox fix. He rolls my right nipple between his finger and thumb while he worships my left with his tongue and his teeth and his whole mouth and— “Yes,” I cry, thrusting harder against him as he sucks on my breast and sends a shot of pure lust from the tip of my nipple to that throbbing, aching, tight, wet spiral inside me that’s getting tighter and heavier and my whole pussy is pulsing and there are too many layers of clothes between me and the most impressive erection I’ve ever had the pleasure of touching and holy mother of organic pancakes, he’s blowing on my wet nipple and I have goosebumps on my goosebumps. There are even goosebumps sprouting on my g-spot.
“Inside me,” I gasp. “Now.”
“Patience, kitten.”
“I don’t want patience, I want you to fuck me before I lose patience with you.”
He lifts his head, and I realize I’ve said the exact wrong thing. He’s got some challenge accepted in that smirk, which is also making me more hot and bothered.
“Lose patience?” He pinches both my nipples, and I almost arch off the bed. “Are you bored, Parker Parker Elliott?” He follows the question with another lick down the hollow between my breasts.
“Not yet,” I gasp. I’m writhing and thrusting and whimpering in his hands, desperately reaching for the snap on his jeans, which I can’t get to while he’s settled between my legs like this, but his skin is hot and smooth, and the hills and valleys of his ribs and muscles are textile aphrodisiacs. My fingers are leaking hormones and pheromones and probably one or two other scientifically improbable arousal vapors.
And he’s tracing a slow path down my belly with his tongue, making my skin quiver in the cool air and my pussy ache harder.
He swirls his tongue around my navel and my hips buck off the bed. “Bored now?” he asks.
“No,” I whimper while I offer him my stomach for his enjoyment. He dips the tip of his tongue into my belly button, and a desperate, moany gasp escapes my mouth.
“Hmm,” he murmurs, and he does it again.
“Need you to touch me,” I gasp.
“I am touching you,” he counters.
“Not there.”
“Where, kitten? Tell me where you want me to touch you.”
“There.”
“Your breasts? Your nipples? This delicious little spot of skin right here?” He presses an open-mouth kiss to the patch of skin between my belly button and the snap of my shorts, sucks gently, nips at me, and soothes the sting away with his tongue, and ohmygod, I’m so wet and my pussy feel so thick and heavy, if he’d just blow on my clit, I think I’d shatter.
“Under my panties,” I whisper.
“Oh, you want me to touch your pussy. I thought we talked about this.”
My inner walls clench. “Please.”
He shifts over me to unsnap the button my shorts. “Lot of work to get to your pussy,” he murmurs.
And then he pulls my zipper down.
With his teeth.
His chin brushes my clit through my pants. “Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod,” I chant.
“What have we here?” he murmurs, his face inches from the promised land, my body so very eager to demonstrate that we’re very good students. He traces the waist of my panties. “Cheetah print? I should leave you and run home for my loincloth.”
“I’ll fucking kill you.”
He chuckles softly and presses a kiss to my panties. “Mmm, delicious.”
I don’t know if he’s flattering me or if he means it, but he’s peeling the denim off, and then his finger slips under my panties between my legs, he touches my clit, and I buck my hips off the bed.
“So hot and wet and sweet,” Knox whispers. He traces the seam of my pussy, eyes lowered to his task. I grip his hair, watching his neck and shoulder muscles bunch and glide, because if I don’t hold on to something, if I don’t concentrate on something, I’m afraid I’ll never be able to find all the pieces to put myself back together, and there’s absolutely no question I’m about to come apart.
“More,” I pant.
He strokes me again, still watching the patch of fabric. “These might have to go,” he says thoughtfully.
“Might?”
“Might definitely.”
He traces the line of elastic around my leg, from my inner thigh around to my hips and down the swell of my butt cheek, leaving a trail of stimulated nerve endings on the path along my skin. I’m so fucking desperate for him to touch me, I squirm and yank my panties down myself.
“Am I driving you crazy, kitten?”
“Yes.”
“The scent of this pussy has been driving me crazy too,” he says as he dips his head between my legs and—
Ohyesyesyes. He strokes my pussy with his tongue, slides a finger into my desperate, aching channel, so close, closer, closer, deeper, higher, THERE, and when he sucks my clit into his mouth and pushes a second finger into my wet core, white hot lightning streaks through my body.
“Ohmygod there yes more more MORE YES!”
My ovaries explode. My pussy explodes. My inner walls spasm and clench and squeeze and explode. The point of impact is somewhere deeper inside me than I’ve ever found befor
e, and I keep coming, riding wave after wave of pleasure so intense my vision narrows to a single black dot, and I can’t breathe and I don’t want to and the only thing I can hear is the vague sound of my own voice moaning and gasping as my hips jerk and writhe out their own rhythm, and Knox is still there, still between my legs, his tongue coaxing me higher, longer, deeper, my toes curling, my back arching, until my body is spent and I collapse, arms drooping, legs limp, my belly and lungs burning.
“Ohmygod,” I gasp when I can talk again.
Knox kisses the side of my hip. It spasms and jerks, and he chuckles and kisses it again. “You,” he says reverently, with a husky catch in his voice, “are so beautiful.”
The tears catch me off guard.
So does the thick knot in my throat.
I don’t believe he’s just feeding me a line.
I believe he honestly thinks I’m beautiful. And for the first time in my life, I start to believe that I might be. In my own special way.
“Parker?”
I try to lift a dismissive hand, to wave off the worried note in his voice, but I can’t even get a finger to lift. I’m that much of a rag doll.
Physically.
Emotionally, the rag doll is way more put together.
“Allergies,” I force out. “I—I must be allergic to orgasms.”
He scoots up the bed and sweeps me into his arms. “Fucking beautiful,” he murmurs into my hair again.
He kisses my crown, I squeeze my eyes shut to try to block out the flow of tears, and I give in to the overwhelming urge to let him hold me.
Only for a minute. Just until I get my shit together.
Then I’m going to take advantage of having this amazing, sexy, generous man in my bed all night long.
25
Knox
I’m raging hard and desperate to bury myself inside Parker, my cock still trapped in my pants, but she’s shaking and quivering and if she’s not crying, she’s close. I want to fix this and I don’t know how. Thousands of romance novels, and I’m fucking helpless to give this woman what she needs.
And the fact that I want to says something.
This isn’t about being her date to her reunion or her buffering my reputation. It’s not about showing her how good sex can be. It’s something deep in my chest, something more profound than physical sensation and more terrifying than death.
I can’t squeeze her any tighter, I can’t take back tonight, and I wouldn’t even if I could. “Parker?” I say into her hair again.
She squirms, and I immediately let go.
Not because I want to, but because this is foreign territory, and she’s in charge.
“That was… Wow.” Her voice is shaky. “I didn’t know it could be so good.”
I pull back just far enough to study her face. Pink cheeks, swollen, well-kissed lips, those adorable freckles, and wide, shiny eyes blended with awe and vulnerability.
“It should always be that good. Or better.”
Her gaze lowers to my mouth. “It hasn’t been good for you yet.”
“Oh, fuck, yes, it has.”
She scrapes her fingers down my back, my lightning rod pulses against her soft curves, and her lips twitch upward. “You’re a good friend, Knox.”
Friend.
That’s always been my favorite word. Friend. Fuck buddy. Casual lover.
It’s a fucking awful word.
She shoves me back on the bed. We’re diagonal, legs dangling crooked, and when she leans up, I get a gorgeous view of her perfect breasts and peachy-rose nipples. I need to leave. Get a grip. Breathe.
Instead, I brush a thumb over one tip. Because she’s here. And I’m here. And I need to touch her like I need to breathe.
She shivers and bats my hand away. “My turn. You keep your hands to yourself.”
“Can’t help myself. You’re irresistible.”
“Don’t make me pull out my secret ninja moves.”
I picture her sneaking out of nowhere in a skimpy black ninja costume to give me a stealth hand job, and my joystick’s straining so hard against my jeans I’m probably going to be bruised tomorrow.
But she does me one better.
She straddles me, pushes my hands back against the bed, and licks my nipple.
I arch up into her. “Holy fuck, Parker.”
“Ohmygod, I’m sorry, I—”
“Do it again.”
She blinks at me once, then twice.
“I’ll tell you if I want you to stop.” I’m not going to fucking tell her to stop anything.
She lowers her head again, her braids coming undone but still dangling and tickling my chest, and she licks my nipple again. Her fingers trace my ribs, just the right touch to ignite my nerve endings, and I take advantage of having my hands free to grip her hips and press her down hard on my aching cock. I’m so hard I can feel my balls aching in the pit of my gut.
“Oh,” she whispers. “That’s really impressive.”
Just when I thought I couldn’t possibly get any harder.
Her fingers dance a trail down my abs, swirling and dipping, and she follows them with her tongue. She slides off my hips—fuck me, I need to feel her now—and she makes quick work of popping my button. As soon as she slides down the zipper, my cock springs almost free.
Fucking boxer briefs.
She traces the outline of my dick through the thin cotton.
“Christ, Parker,” I gasp.
But she’s not done. Oh, no.
The devious wench bends down and presses a kiss to my cock.
I jerk so hard I almost come in my shorts.
“Wow,” she whispers. “I mean, I saw your loincloth, but how did this fit in it?” She peels the fabric back, cool air hits my shaft, it springs up tall and proud and begs her to touch.
God bless her, she does.
She grips me at the base and strokes her fist up, igniting every single nerve ending in my body and a few cosmic nerve endings I didn’t know I had. I thrust into her grip, helpless to stop myself. I need to stop her. I need to stop her before I lose all control and blow my load. “Parker—”
She dips her head and swirls her tongue around my tip, and oh fuck fuck FUCK, I’m gonna come.
I grip her wrist. “You,” I rasp. “In you now.”
She licks me again—holy fuck, that tongue, sliding up the ridge under my cock to the tip and making me jerk hard against her mouth—and tilts a coy smile at me. “I just got started.”
“Parker, I fucking need to be in you now, or this is gonna be all over in two seconds.”
She eyes me. Then my dick. “Can I blow you later?”
“Fuck, yes.”
“Okay.”
Before I can move, she shimmies up my body, spreads her legs, and slides her pussy over my cock. She’s wet and hot and tight, so fucking tight, squeezing around me from the tip down, and— “Condom,” I gasp.
“Don’t—wanna—let—go,” she moans as she sinks all the way down, taking me fully in to her slick heat, and fuck me, I don’t want to let go either.
“Parker—”
With a groan, she lifts her hips. I twist to grab my wallet, my rocket brushes her pussy, and she groans again. “Hurry.”
I do my best, and she helps, the two of us tangling together to grab the protection, tear the packet, and roll it down me. Her fingers are nimble and quick and jerky, and finally, finally, I’m kissing her and pushing her onto her back and sliding home.
She moans into my mouth and jerks her hips against mine. I thrust into her hot, tight little channel, her inner walls squeezing and gripping me, and roll my pelvis against her clit. I don’t want the fucking condom. I want to feel her, skin on skin, her heat, her wetness, her silk. I want to leave a part of me inside her. I want to know that she’s mine, that she’ll always be mine, that no one else will ever touch her again.
That she’ll never be unhappy again.
Never be unsatisfied again.
She pumps her hips u
p into mine. “Oh, god, Knox, I’m coming, I’m coming!”
She clenches around my cock, hard and fast, while she tips her head back and screams my name. I drive into her, slide my hand between our bodies to flick her clit, and she pulses harder around me. My vision shatters, my heart swells, and I explode from somewhere deep, deep inside me, the orgasm rocking me to my core. Her sweet pussy spasms and grips me until I’ve come so hard I can’t remember my name. Or my home planet, anything but Parker Elliott and her cries and her fingers in my hair and that explosive release that I can feel all the way from my numb fingertips to my curled toes.
I collapse on top of her. “Holy fuck, Parker,” I pant.
“Ohmygod.” She’s still twitching around me, aftershocks that shoot my sensitive nerve endings into hyperdrive.
There’s no fucking way I can get it up again.
I’m not Superman.
But my cock has other ideas, and it’s already getting hard.
I blame Parker.
She’s too fucking sexy for her own good. I want her. I need her. Now. Tonight. Tomorrow. Under me. Over me. Doggie style. In the shower. Everything.
She’s still breathing heavy, her hands curling into my hair as she wraps her arms around me. “I thought it was a myth.”
I press a kiss to her collarbone, pull almost all the way out, and slide back in. “Myth this, kitten.”
She tips her head back and laughs, squeezing my dick with her core. She thrusts her hips against mine, and I go light-headed.
“And I thought my fantasies were pretty damn good,” she whispers.
“Fantasies?”
She goes utterly still.
I lift my head and catch the wide-eyed, whoops blush creeping over her cheeks. I give my over-sensitive cock another thrust into her too-tight pussy, and we both gasp.
“Tell me about your fantasies,” I say.
“I didn’t know it was you.”
I’m getting hard as granite here. “You touched yourself and thought about me?”
She doesn’t answer. Instead, she grips my hair and plants a hard, wet, desperate kiss on my mouth, and we set out to see just how many myths and fantasies we can bust tonight.
