Iron Born (Iron Palace Book 1)

by Lisa Ferrari

  I grab him by the base and hover my open mouth over the head. I look up into Kellan’s eyes, drawing out the moment, letting him savor it.

  Let’s be real: I’m the one who’s about to savor something. A guy like Kellan. A body like this. A cock like this.

  I must be dreaming.

  Before I wake and find myself late for my crap catering job, I stick out my tongue and lick the underside of Kellan’s erection. That sensitive little stretch of skin I read about once a long, long time ago…the frenulum.

  It’s like a guy’s clit.

  I saw a video once where a woman made her husband orgasm just by licking and massaging that tiny little area with only the tip of her finger.

  I wonder if Kellan would come in my mouth if I did that long enough.

  He looks pretty excited. It probably wouldn’t take that long.

  I finally close my lips and take him into my mouth.

  Kellan is taking berserk to new heights.

  His hips are squirming. I can tell he wants to thrust up into my mouth but is trying to resist.

  What would happen if I let him?

  Would he shoot semen into my mouth right away? Would it taste bitter and make me cough and make my eyes water like what’s-his-name? What if it burned and I had to cough and spit it out in front of Kellan? That wouldn’t be sexy. That wouldn’t be hot. He’d probably be offended or feel rejected.

  I try to go lower, to take more of him in my mouth. Anastasia did it; so can I. Except they were in the tub and there was body wash everywhere. Did she eat the body wash? Because yuck.

  Claire…

  I want to show Kellan that I’m not lame when it comes to sex, especially compared to women like Stacy who probably screw a lot and read Cosmo while they’re riding their Sybians in order to get their sphincters tight and practice their multiple orgasm abilities.

  The head of Kellan’s penis touches the back of my throat. I’m not sure if I can go further, but I don’t feel the need to gag like I always have in the past. Maybe it’s because Kellan smells nice; the last guy I blew was Tommy and he always smelled like onions and dried pee.

  Kellan is making a lot of noise now that his cock is flexing and straining deep in my mouth. “Oh God Claire…oh my God yes…”

  That’s a good sign.

  I slide my mouth up and down the shaft. He becomes shiny with my saliva.

  Kellan’s hands grab the back of my head. Oh God he’s going to cram it deep down my throat and I’m going to puke lemon-stevia-marinated salmon and quinoa and sweet potato all over him.

  I wait.

  Kellan doesn’t shove my head down onto his erection. He merely caresses my hair. It turns me on.

  Kellan caresses my shoulders and my back through my white towel, which is still cinched around my chest.

  I pull the towel off and toss it on the sofa.

  We’re both completely naked now.

  I draw my cheeks in and make a good suction, especially each time I get to the head. Kellan’s hands feel nice in my hair. I feel how aroused he is, how much he wants me.

  He sits up and slides his hands all the way down my back, and back up again.

  “Oh my God, Claire…”

  And all of a sudden he’s pulling me up, off of him.

  “Stand up.”

  When I do, I have strands of lubrication draped from my vagina to the insides of my thighs. I am literally dripping wet. Wow. I’ve never had that before.

  Kellan sees it, too. He slides down the edge of the sofa and pulls me forward, until I’m kneeling on the cushion, straddling his face. He licks the strands of my wetness, tasting it, swallowing it, moaning, savoring it, then buries his face between my legs. His tongue slides between my labia, lapping. It’s hot and wet and firm and soft and feels sooo good.

  “Oh my God you taste good.”

  He resumes devouring me, burying his face in me, sliding his mouth up and down from my vagina to my clitoris over and over. His hands caress my buttocks, kneading gently but firmly.

  No one has ever gone down on me like this.

  With such…hunger.

  Kellan reaches up and caresses my breasts, cupping them and playing with my nipples, lightly pinching and twisting them.

  I can barely stand it.

  His tongue goes up inside me. It actually slides in, just like I’ve always wanted. It swirls around and around inside me, and I want to come for the thrill of it.

  But then his mouth moves to my clitoris, and I’m disappointed. Until be begins to suck, actually suck on my clit, again something I’ve always wanted that no one has ever done.

  How does Kellan know what I want? It’s uncanny.

  He squeezes my ass and my breasts, running his hands all over my body, moaning and breathing heavily and looking up at me as he eats me.

  I look over my shoulder. At his cock. It’s huge. It could be the firelight and the shadows and the contrast, but it looks even bigger than it did before. There is a wet strand of fluid dripping from it, stretching to his abdomen. Don’t they call that pre-cum? I’ve never actually seen any. I want to lick it off him and see what it tastes like.

  Kellan’s tongue is working my clitoris furiously, then plunging inside me at irregular intervals. My muscles are tightening. Everything down there is constricting, alive with need. I’m getting close.

  “Wait, let’s come together this time,” I gasp.

  I stand up and guide Kellan onto the sofa once more. I lean down and lick the pre-cum off him. It’s a little salty and a little sweet and perfectly pleasant. I grab the base of his erection and squeeze, sliding my hand up the shaft, milking him, and more clear fluid comes out. I make a show of gathering it up with my fingertip and slowly licking it with the tip of my tongue. Kellan’s wide eyes tell me he enjoys it.

  I straddle him. “No penetration tonight, right?”

  Kellan looks confused. He’s breathing heavily. His lips and mouth and chin are shiny with remnants of my fluids. “Um, right.”

  I press my soaking wet, very hot, very ready vulva against his impressive erection. I slide myself up and down against him, pressing my clit against the head each time.

  Kellan starts to go even more nuts.

  He pulls me close and kisses me, thrusting his tongue into my mouth. I smell and taste my own musk. Interesting. Kinda hot, actually. Especially the way he’s devouring me with his mouth, holding the sides of my face with his hands.

  I sit up and support myself by placing my hands on his massive, muscular chest and continue sliding up and down him.

  Kellan squeezes my ass, helping me rock my hips. He crunches up and sucks on my nipples, first one and then the other, sending electricity through my entire body.

  He lies back and our eyes meet. “You’re going to make me come, Claire…”

  I slide up and down half a dozen more times and it happens. Kellan’s erection gets really, REALLY hard and I look down just in time to see semen shoot out of it and all over his stomach.

  As soon as I see this, I come too. I do my best to continue the rhythm and pace, coming my brains out until I’m done. I collapse onto my forearms, exhausted.

  “Wow,” Kellan pants. “I can’t believe I came a second time.”

  “Why?”

  “I usually have one big one and that’s it, lights out. Where did you learn to do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “That thing you just did. Rubbing yourself on me like that.”

  “I don’t know…nowhere.”

  “You just invented it now?”

  “Yeah. Seemed like a good idea.”

  “It was. Wow.”

  I use one of the towels to wipe the semen off Kellan’s belly and chest, amazed at the quantity of it.

  Kellan pulls a fuzzy blue microfiber fleecy, super-soft blanket over us. He kisses me and strokes my hair. “You hungry?”

  I am, but I don’t want to seem like a pig. “A little.”

  “No, it’s okay. Sex burns calorie
s. The trick is to feed your body good calories. Six hundred calories worth of salmon and quinoa and broccoli is not the same as 600 calories worth of Jelly Bellies, even though they are delicious.”

  “Is there ever a good time to eat Jelly Bellies? It’s just sugar.”

  “Sure. Post-workout meal. Preferably during a bulk. Simple sugars with a protein shake with three or four scoops of protein. That’ll get the insulin flowing so your muscles suck up all those nutrients. Here, you stay here on the sofa under the blanket, and I’ll be right back.”

  Kellan goes to the kitchen and I watch as he makes two protein shakes in blender bottles and pops some popcorn in the microwave.

  We enjoy our snacks and resume watching Conan, curled up together under the blanket, naked. We talk about different parts we both like, oohing and awing at the bloody parts, enjoying the beautiful musical score and amazingly epic scenery. We geek out at the cool parts like when Arnold twirls the sword and when he kills the giant snake.

  During the palace orgy scene, I’m freaking out again just like I was the first time I saw it. Everyone is lying around having sex and eating some weird, green, aphrodisiac fermented-human stew?

  Kellan agrees that that’s what it is. Everyone looks like they’re high as kites. He tells me about when he was a kid and he watched this scene, it was never clear what they were doing or what they were eating, because the picture quality on the TV was so bad. But then he watched it several years ago, remastered in HD on his HD TV and he about freaked out because he saw the movie in a way he’d never seen it before, especially scenes like this one. He explains how he read recently that they are planning to make a sequel and Arnold has agreed to reprise his role.

  About 20 minutes later, I can’t take the heat anymore. I’m naked, sitting with my hair piled atop my head, starting to sweat. “I’m so hot.”

  Kellan surveys my naked body and breasts. “Yes you are. Your shoulders look amazing right now.”

  “No, I’m serious. I’m sweating.”

  “It’s your metabolism. All the exercise and good food and sex-cardio has it speeded up. You’re burning fat right now. And building muscle, too.”

  That’s good to hear. But I’m still sweating my ass off. Kellan gets a glass of iced tea for me, and it helps cool me down.

  After the movie has ended, it’s late. Kellan checks his phone. It’s 4:00 a.m. “So, do you want to head home or do you want to crash here?”

  Is he inviting me to stay? Does he want me to stay? “What would you prefer?”

  “Claire, I’m asking you what you want.”

  “I know. It’s just…. I don’t want to be one of those people who can’t take a hint when the other person wants them to leave. One time, in college, I went out drinking with a girlfriend and we crashed at her place because it was walking distance to the bar. The next day, we’re hanging out by the pool and stuff and we eventually go inside because there was some ice skating thing on TV she wanted to watch. Her phone rings and she goes into her bedroom to answer it but I could hear the conversation. And I hear her say, ‘She won’t leave.’ I was crushed. I was like, excuse me, I thought we were hanging out, you know? At that moment I realized that we weren’t actually friends. Not like I thought we were. Friends hang out and do nothing, watch TV and bake cookies and just…whatever.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I left. I got my ass up and grabbed my stuff and got the hell out of there. Never went back to her place again. After that, whenever a bunch of us went out, I always made sure I stayed sober enough to drive my ass home. Screw her. Bitch. It still makes me angry. I’m a kind and easygoing person. Live and let live and all that. But I hate being betrayed like that, finding out that I’m the asshole.”

  “Okay, well, let me assure you that I’m not hoping you’re going to leave. I do have a few things I have to do tomorrow, just a few hours I need to put in to check on some online training clients. But other than that I’m available. If you’d like to hang out, the way real friends do, I would like that. We can watch TV and eat and do nothing. Work out. Swim. Not have intercourse.”

  “But do other stuff?”

  “But definitely do other stuff.”

  “You said something about going to see a movie.”

  “That’s right. There’s a new sci-fi movie I want to see. Some friends of mine made it. Wait a minute, what am I thinking! You met Aaron and Rami at the club. It’s their movie. They co-wrote it, Rami produced and Aaron directed it. And Sheila executive produced, but you didn’t get to meet her yet. Do you want to come with me? Are you into science fiction or is it totally not your thing?”

  “No, I like science fiction.”

  “Great. It’s a date.”

  We decide to go to bed before the sun comes up and completely messes up our biorhythms. Kellan asks if I want to shower, but I decline. I’m too tired. Besides, I feel good. I’ve got him all over me, on my breasts, my belly, between my thighs. Thinking about it makes me horny again and I’m actually not sure if I’ll even be able to sleep.

  WE CLIMB INTO Kellan’s huge, amazing, ultra-luxurious bed. Cool white cotton sheets. Three, yes three, fluffy white down comforters. Eight fluffy white down pillows. It is the most comfortable bed I’ve ever tried.

  Kellan spoons me and cups one of my breasts in his hand. I feel him get hard again, his erection pressing against my butt, and I get wet again.

  But we drift off to sleep before we can do anything about it.

  Chapter 12

  I WAKE TO find daylight filling the bedroom.

  I’m face down, sleeping on my stomach, surrounded by pillows. It’s like sleeping among clouds.

  Kellan’s hand is gently stroking my hair. It feels so nice. What a way to wake up.

  Kellan is beside me, propped up on a mountain of white pillows. He has his copy of Chamber in his hand.

  He smiles at me. What a smile. And those eyes. “Morning.”

  “Morning. Were you petting my hair?”

  “Yes. Is that okay?”

  “Yes. It feels nice.”

  He leans down and kisses me.

  I sit up, realizing I’m still naked. Kellan is wearing a little red pair of shorts that make me think of a surfer from the 50s. He looks good. “What time is it?”

  “About 11:30.”

  I’ve been asleep seven hours. “How long have you been up?”

  “I got up around 9:00 and did an hour of cardio. But I just got a call from the transport company. The new car is going to be here in an hour. So we should probably not be naked when it gets here. Are you hungry? Do you want some coffee?”

  “Very. And yes, coffee would be great.”

  I’m foggy from having been up so late.

  And having had two orgasms.

  And having my sensitive lady parts devoured by a wild animal. Mmm! My stomach and insides quiver at the thought of it.

  But I feel great. I feel rested. I can tell I slept well. Having Kellan’s warm body pressed close to mine certainly helped. I can’t remember the last time a man held me while I slept. College, maybe?

  I lean back on the pillows and gaze through the big glass doors at the pool. The sun is shining and the water looks gorgeous. A morning swim would be nice.

  Kellan returns a couple minutes later with a tray bearing a lavish breakfast: scrambled eggs, cottage cheese, fresh blueberries and sliced mango, and a mug of steaming coffee.

  Kellan positions the tray table over my legs, supported on little feet, and I dig in. Everything is delicious.

  When I’ve finished, Kellan places the tray on the night stand and I sit back with my coffee. Wow. A night of amazing non-penetrative sex followed by breakfast in bed. Can it get any better than this?

  Kellan takes a deep breath and his brow crinkles as if something is bothering him. “So, listen…about last night….”

  Oh God.

  Here it comes.

  He’s dropping the hammer.

  Ending it.

  Ki
cking me out.

  Wham-bam, thank you, ma’am; now piss off and leave me alone, skank.

  Well…at least he had the decency to let me sleep over and pretend it was real for a few hours longer than most guys would’ve.

  At least he fed me breakfast before he kicked me out.

  I try to get ahold of myself, to stop letting my inner cynic fill my mind with all kinds of crap. Kellan hasn’t finished his sentence yet.

  “What about it?” I ask.

  “It was really incredible. More fun than I’ve had in…”

  “Days?”

  “More like a year.”

  “A year?!” I can’t believe that.

  “I quit all that meat market Friday night dating scene crap. I haven’t had sex in at least a year.”

  “With Stacy?”

  “Uh, no, actually she wasn’t the last one. There was one after her, but it turned out to be just another one-night stand. I woke up and she was gone and the phone number she gave me was for Home Depot.”

  “You got fake numbered?”

  “I totally god fake numbered. She was probably married for all I know. She wasn’t wearing a ring. I know because I checked. Whatever. Good riddance. The point is, I could go out any Friday or Saturday night and probably hook up with someone. Women just throw themselves at me. They always have. Guys, too. I don’t know why but people hit on me. Having a body like this doesn’t hurt, I guess. Besides, rolling up in a green Lamborghini pretty much seals the deal. You have no idea how many gold-digging gay dudes are out there. Needless to say I don’t go to Koo Koo Roo chicken, anymore.”

  “Why not?”

  “There’s always tons of gay dudes there. It’s fine, I just get tired of rebuffing them. Plus it doesn’t help when you Google Koo Koo Roo to get the address for Google Maps and you get pictures of people in Myanmar with their heads cut off.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah. Don’t Google it. It’s right up there with blue waffle. Anyway, sorry, I’m getting way off track. The point is…shoot, what was my point?”

  My inner cynic starts blabbing before I can stop her. “That you don’t want to be exclusive with me and you want to be able to go out in your green Lamborghini and get picked up by men and women alike anyplace besides Koo Koo Roo?”