by Ana Novak
When he didn’t object to the contact, I pressed myself against him fully, my breasts pushing up against his chest, my hips moving against his. The solid feel of his body against mine was intoxicating.
Shane made a strangled noise in his throat before shaking his head, as if to clear it, and taking a deep breath, his hands settling almost reluctantly on my waist. “Do you know how hard you’re making this for me?”
He was cracking. I was gaining ground.
“Not nearly as hard as I’d like to,” I purred, and slid my hands up his chest, feeling the rock-hard muscles beneath the thin knit of his shirt.
In the same move that had worked on him a year and a half ago, I tilted my head to the side, dropping my chin so that I could gaze up at him from beneath my eyelashes. “I want you,” I said, my voice low. “I wanted you earlier. A few drinks between then and now shouldn’t make a difference.” One hand drifted lower, moving to cup him through his jeans, and Shane’s head fell back, his lips parting as he groaned, his fingers digging into my hips.
Yes!
I wound my other arm around his neck and stood on tiptoe to whisper into his ear. “Let me take advantage of you tonight. Please.”
His hands slid around, fingers splayed across my ass, and I caught my breath at the rush of desire that ricocheted through my body. Then his voice rumbled in my ear.
“I can’t say no to you, Taylor.”
Shane surprised me by sliding his hands lower and grabbing my thighs, yanking my legs up and forcing me to wrap them around his waist. His lips found mine again, hungrily searching, his tongue clashing against mine.
He carried me toward the bedroom, kicking the door open so hard that it banged against the wall, and we both collapsed onto the bed, hands fumbling with each other’s clothes.
Shane tried to pull my dress over my head, but I grabbed his wrists and pushed him back, forcing him down on the bed. He went willingly, and I straddled his hips, grinding against him as my skirt rode up around my waist. He was hard beneath his jeans, the solidness of his erection straining against its denim prison.
I broke the kiss and pulled his shirt over his head impatiently, baring his torso to my hungry eyes.
Wow.
“You’re gorgeous,” I breathed, sitting up and surveying the muscular planes of his chest, the rippling hardness of his abdomen. “My god. You’re perfect.”
He didn’t answer. His fingers were on the hem of my dress, trying to pull it up, but I pushed his hands away and smiled down at him. Tonight I would be in control. I’d spent far too long deferring to Dave for his sexual desires. I wouldn’t make the same mistake this time around.
Shane looked up at me, a slight smile curving the corners of his lips, his eyes glittering in the faint light from the living room. He was a Greek god, come to life in my bed, and I was going to enjoy him in every way humanly possible.
I traced a finger down my chest, letting my hand trail into the valley between my breasts before drifting lower. “Tell me,” I said, and deliberately parted the surplice top, exposing the inner curves of my breasts. “Just how turned on are you right now?”
“It isn’t obvious?” he responded, and clearly understanding that I was in no hurry, he folded his hands behind his head, biceps flexing impressively as he moved.
I bit my lip and rolled my hips, grinding against him just enough to cause him to inhale sharply. “How turned on are you?” I asked again.
Our eyes met and held, and I searched his expression, trying to figure out what he was thinking. If he was confused by my questioning, he didn’t show it. There was a pause, and his eyes flicked down my body and up again before he responded, a playful lilt to his tone, “You’re driving me crazy, sweetheart. I could come right now, just looking at you.”
I felt my cheeks heat under the intensity of his gaze, and experienced a sudden rush of shyness- but he’d given me the answer I’d been looking for. He was willing to play along.
I slowly reached down, my fingers closing on the hem of my skirt. His eyes were hot on me, molten and hungry, and it took all my self-restraint to keep from rushing through the motions. I pulled the dress up and over my head, tossing it into the corner. I was biting my lip nervously, trying not to lose my confidence, when I reached down to grab Shane’s hand and lift it to my breast.
The moment his fingers made contact with my skin, however, all nervousness disappeared. His hand felt so good against my breast that my eyes rolled back in my head, and I moaned, throwing my head back and pushing further into the contact. I felt his hips rise slightly, heard his breath catch as his thumb flicked over my nipple.
“Touch me,” I breathed, not recognizing my own voice for its huskiness.
His other arm snaked around my back as he sat up, his fingers teasing my flesh mercilessly. When I felt his tongue against my other breast, I grabbed at his shoulders, looking to steady myself.
“Use your teeth,” I whispered, no longer caring if he thought my request was strange or not.
His tongue left my nipple and he moved up, biting down on my shoulder just hard enough to make me cry out before he rolled me over onto the bed, his hips settling between my legs. He didn’t stop there, biting down again at the junction of my neck and shoulder. The sharp pain of his teeth was good, almost better than the ecstasy that followed when he returned his attention to my breast, his tongue circling my nipple deliciously. Suddenly I was panting with the effort of my own restraint. I wanted to tear his clothes off and sink down on him, take every inch of him over and over again until he was begging me to stop.
“Let me taste you,” I said, and pushed at his shoulders, trying to get him off me.
Shane rolled onto his side, letting me wriggle out from under him, and he began to laugh when I started tugging at his jeans. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or insulted,” he said, digging into his pocket with one hand. He withdrew a small foil packet before lifting his hips to help me pull the jeans off. “Was I not-“ His last word ended in a sharp intake of breath, the desperate hiss of air between his teeth as I took him into my mouth.
He was big, much bigger than I remembered, but that certainly wasn’t a bad thing. I started out at the head of his cock, wrapping my lips around it and laving its tip with my tongue. With every stroke, I took him deeper into my mouth, bobbing my head slowly to set the pace. When Shane tried to put his hand on my shoulder, I pushed it away. I didn’t want him touching me while I was doing this. I wanted total control.
I swirled my tongue around the flared head before opening my throat and going down as far as I could manage, taking myself to within a fraction of my gag reflex before pulling back. Shane’s hands fisted in the sheets, his breathing fast and shallow. I took the opportunity to rake my teeth delicately up the shaft of his cock, and he moaned, his hips thrusting upwards.
I lifted my head, brushing my hair behind my shoulders to keep it out of my eyes. “Tell me how it feels,” I said, and again, the voice that spoke the words was one I didn’t recognize.
Shane’s eyes were closed, his lips parted. I saw his jaw clench as I licked up the length of his hardness before taking it in my mouth again.
“It…it feels…” He broke off, and raised one hand as if to cup it against the back of my head, but then he seemed to think better of it, and dropped his hand back to the sheets. “It feels incredible. Fuck, I can’t even…just...don’t stop, sweetheart. Please don’t stop.”
I sucked hard, feeling the head hit the back of my throat, and worked him with my tongue for another few minutes, knowing that I was very close to sending him over the edge.
He took several deep, shuddering breaths, but didn’t come. Finally I conceded and crawled up the bed, propping my head on one hand as I lay beside him.
“You are impressive,” I said, giving him a saucy smile.
He looked over at me, and without another word, reached out to tangle his hand in my hair and pull my mouth down to his. I kissed him, long and lingering, feel
ing a thrill rush through me at the knowledge that this stunning man wanted me.
Soon his hands closed around my waist and pulled me on top of him, spreading my legs so that I was straddling his naked cock. My panties were the only barrier between us, and when I felt Shane’s fingers sliding beneath the thin scrap of silk, I knew that those panties were no barrier at all.
I almost stopped him, wanting to let him know that I was the one who should decide when to go further, but when his finger stroked against the nub of my desire, all thoughts of control fled my mind, and I groaned, burying my face in his neck and pushing my hips into his fingers.
He moved his hand lower, dipping into my juices before returning to tease the tiny button of nerves. With the way my hips jerked every time he touched me, I knew I wouldn’t last long.
“I want…you…inside me,” I gasped into Shane’s ear, nearly undone as he caressed my folds.
He growled, and I felt him withdraw his hand before my panties were ripped away in one quick yank. He pressed his lips to the corner of my mouth, and whispered, “Let me…”
I felt his hands brush against me, heard the rip of foil and his sharp inhalation as he rolled the condom on. I reached down and grasped his cock, lining him up before lowering myself onto him, holding my breath as he entered me, stretching me, filling me up as I took him in.
At last he was fully inside me, and we lay there, motionless, each waiting for the other to give the go-ahead.
“Oh, fuck, Taylor…Taylor,” he breathed, and used one hand to lift my chin so that he could kiss me again. I kissed him back, slightly uncomfortable at the feeling of fullness. He was still much bigger than anyone else I’d ever been with, and it had been more than a year since we’d had sex. It was a tight fit, so tight that the discomfort bordered on pain.
He seemed to understand what I was feeling, and when the kiss ended, his eyes met mine in the semi-darkness. “Are you ready?” he asked softly.
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
He surprised me by rolling over again, pinning me beneath him as he began to thrust, gently at first to give me time to adjust. As he moved in and out, the friction built up inside me until I was moving with him, my arms around his shoulders, my legs wrapped around his hips. He began moving faster, pounding me harder, and finally I threw back my head and pleaded with him, “Please, Shane, oh, fuck me, please.”
He straightened up then, grabbing a knee in each of his hands and pushing my legs back and apart. His cock pounded into me like a piston, going even deeper than before, and I felt the familiar twist of an orgasm fluttering inside my belly.
Fuck, fuck. This couldn’t be happening.
I was coming.
Just from penetration.
“I’m there,” I gasped out, and then I was gone, spiraling out of control, tumbling over and over again down a slippery slope. Somewhere in the din of my weightless haze, I felt Shane thrust into me one last time and hold, his shoulders trembling, and I knew he was coming, too.
He rolled off of me, and I licked my lips, my legs shaking as I came down from the most amazing orgasm of my life. “Where did you learn to do that?” I whispered, closing my eyes and trying not to react to the pleasurable aftershocks running through my body. “That was incredible.”
“You, too,” he said, coming back to the bed. He gently removed one of my heels, kissing my ankle before moving on to the other foot. After dropping the shoes to the floor, he lay next to me and reached down to trace one hand from the vee at the apex of my thighs up to my stomach. His touch sent delightful shivers up my abdomen, and my back arched off the sheets.
“Mmm.” I touched his hand, linking our fingers, and turned, curling my body into his. “Round two later?” I asked, snuggling up against his chest like a cat looking for warmth.
“You want me to stay?” he asked, and I could hear the surprise in his tone.
“Friends with benefits,” I murmured. “Call it a slumber party.”
A chuckle rumbled through his chest, and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me flush against him. I drifted into slumber, lulled by the unexpected security of his embrace.
Chapter 8
When I opened my eyes the next morning, the first thing I saw was Shane.
He was sleeping peacefully, facing me. His hands were clasping mine between us, and our fingers were interlaced.
I allowed myself a moment to study him. I wanted to memorize every inch of his appearance, and his face was my favorite: the cut-glass line of his jaw, the regal sweep of his cheekbones above his beard. His hair was longer than it had been when we first met, and in the muted glow of the sunlight filtering through my curtains, I could see that the dark strands were starting to curl. His full lips were slightly parted and perfectly kissable, but I didn’t want to wake him yet, so I reluctantly pulled my hands free from his and rolled off the bed. He stirred, rolling over to his opposite side, and I smiled. Still a heavy sleeper.
My mouth was dry and my head was aching, so I went to the kitchen for water and ibuprofen. Surprisingly, even after all the alcohol last night, my hangover seemed pretty bearable. I was a little sore from the sex, but that wasn’t even close to painful enough to make me regret what had happened.
I checked my phone and rolled my eyes. Another text from Dave.
After collecting a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt, I locked myself in the bathroom and stepped under the hot spray of the shower, letting the water wet my face and soothe my headache. The feeling of the water sliding across my skin made me think of Shane’s hands, strong and capable, setting me on fire with a single touch. I washed my face, rubbing my tired eyes and thinking that there was no way I could walk away now. As I’d so aptly put it to Mistral, seducing a sex god in an attempt to clear my head and make a rational choice about our future relationship was completely futile. Whatever happened between Shane and I from here on out, there was no denying that our sexual chemistry was off the charts.
While I was rinsing conditioner out of my hair, I wondered what he was looking for. He was definitely interested- he’d more than proven that by not only chasing me down outside the cafe, but also showing up last night at the club- but was he looking for a relationship, or would he be satisfied with casual sex?
I was probably overthinking it. As a man, and not just any man but a bona fide rockstar, Shane’s attention span when it came to women probably maxed out around a week or two. I knew I was in no position to get my hopes up.
But you like him, came my obnoxious inner voice, nagging as usual.
I can like him all I want, I thought fiercely. That doesn’t mean he’s mine.
I remembered the way I’d felt about Dave, the all-consuming need to be with him every possible second, the intense desire for his approval and affection. I remembered the crushing blow of his betrayal when he told me about his affair with a woman he’d met on Tinder. I remembered the frustration when I’d seen him kissing his boss, the sudden realization that he would never be faithful and we would never be able to regain the level of trust and intimacy we’d had before his affair.
I didn’t want that kind of relationship again. I didn’t want to invest myself in something that would someday inevitably end. I definitely didn’t want to feel the emptiness inside that I’d felt when Dave had told me his boredom had driven him into another woman’s arms.
You’re definitely overthinking this, I told myself. Last night was just for fun. Shane doesn’t expect anything from you. One night- two nights- doesn’t mean he’s planning to propose. You’re freaking out over nothing. I turned off the water and grabbed my towel.
Even though I took my time getting dressed, brushing my teeth, and towel-drying my hair, Shane was still asleep when I opened the bathroom door. I stood at the foot of the bed for a few moments, watching him and wondering what the protocol was for waking a man sleeping in your bed. I recalled the morning that I’d left the hotel and he’d come running after me.
I crawled onto the bed
and lay behind him, curling my body against his. I drew a hand up his hip and leaned in so that my lips were against his ear.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” I whispered.
He stirred, but did not wake. I fought the urge to laugh.
“I was thinking about leaving another note,” I said softly, still molded against him, my arm draped over his side as I traced circles down his hard chest. “But I thought it might be more fun for you to wake up like this.”
His hand came up to cover mine, flattening my fingers against his rock-hard abs. “Morning,” he said, and his voice was rough with sleep.
“You’re a sound sleeper.” I moved back and he rolled over to face me, not releasing my hand.
The lazy grin that spread across his face made my breath catch in my throat. “Somebody woke me up twice last night,” he replied. “I’m a little tired now.”
“You loved it,” I said accusingly.
“I did.” He leaned over, dropping a kiss on my lips. “But you wore me out.”
“Something tells me you’ll bounce back.”
The smile lingered on his face. “You’re not running this time?”
“I thought about it,” I admitted. “But this is my apartment. Running away from my own place would be pretty stupid.”
“I’m glad you’re still here.” He leaned forward, his lips brushing mine again. I closed my eyes, savoring the chaste kiss that nonetheless had butterflies rioting in my stomach.
When he pulled away, he rolled onto his back, throwing his opposite arm up over his head. “Did I sleep late?”
“Um…” I looked at the alarm clock on my nightstand. “Not really. It’s just after nine.” After a pause, I added, “I had fun last night.”
His grin turned arrogant, and I tried very hard to control my breathing so he wouldn’t know how such a simple gesture accelerated my pulse. “I did too. I’m glad you didn’t give up.”
“I’m glad you didn’t write me off as some drunk groupie.”
