by Rie Warren
I took what I wanted. I was selfish. And I didn’t want any of that for her.
I stepped forward, centering my palm on the delicate wings of her collarbone, my fingers reaching up her neck where her pulse hummed. “I wish this was more intimate. Romantic.”
Romantic. Jesus.
I’d never thought about that before. Never even fucking tried. Now it was impossible.
Something strange happened to my heart as my gaze roved over her face and a smile tipped the corners of her lips while her eyelashes floated down.
She pulled my hand to her lips and plied my knuckles with small kisses. “I’m greedy. I’ll take you any way I can get you.”
“But you could have more.”
“But not with you,” she stated without repercussions.
That weird noise from my heart—like a low-level hum—buzzed higher. I didn’t agree or disagree.
We both knew the truth.
Suddenly Tilly reared back. “Damn. If I thought you’d be the one acting like a virgin about to break his celibacy vows I’d have thought twice about propositionin’ you.”
All the blood in my body drained out. “Jesus Christ! You’re a virgin?”
Chapter Sixteen
Feelin’ Love
“WOULD THAT BE SO bad?” Tilly’s head tilted at a flirty angle.
My eyes narrowed, and I almost flailed backward. “What? Yes? Fuck.”
“Don’t worry, baby.” Her hands smoothed all the way down my thumping chest. Her fingers toyed with the button on my pants, pants I could’ve shredded wide open with my cock except for her not-so-little surprise. “I’ve used . . . things before.”
My ears perked up. My eyes widened. The blood flooded back in a dizzying rush, pulsating through my dick.
My voice dropped. “Things? What kind of things?”
Her hands drifted away. My hips bucked to regain her caress.
Her voice lilted as she counted off on her fingers, “Oh, you know. The old go-to, the Rabbit. The one with the beads.”
I choked on my breath.
“Hmm.” She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “The waterproof kind. Oh”—she pressed a fingertip against the corner of her mouth—“that would be the showerhead massager of course.”
My cock instantly took on a life of its own as I imagined Tilly naked, wet, soapy in a shower with a handheld what-the-fuck-ever pointed between her thighs. Wet spray, wet cunt, her hot quivering orgasm.
Her fingertip drew down the curves of her tits, dragging my eyes along with it.
“A bullet. Remote control, obviously. And then the 9-volt battery kind of pleasure-for-her.”
“Tilly.” My voice rasped.
My eyes bugged the fuck out of my head.
Holy shit. Talk about a wildcat. And I get to break her in?
“Justice?” She snapped her fingers in front of my face because I was too busy creating complete visuals of her playing with herself, locked in exquisite orgasm, crying out with her body convulsing . . .
“Huh?”
She laughed throatily. “I was teasing about being a virgin, but you should’ve seen your face!”
I stalked the last step to her. “What about the vibrators?” Because that image was forever ingrained in my head.
“You’ll just have to find out.”
“That so?” I dipped her head back and lavished her with the sort of tongue-lashing, full-body, voluptuous kiss that left her breathless.
When I straightened, the pink stain on her cheeks was just as mesmerizing as her tits heaving against my chest.
“I wanna see you, Tilly.” Standing behind her, I turned her to one of the mirrors.
“Do you now?” If my voice was hoarse, hers was strident.
I bent low, hurrying to unlace my boots and shuck them off along with my socks. Shoving them away, I lengthened behind her. The tops of my thighs brushed her ass, and my hard cock nestled at her lower back.
“Undress for me,” I ordered.
We faced a mirror, Tilly standing in front of me. Her breathing—harsh and fast—warped the thin material clinging to her breasts even more. My shoulders looked big as a house behind her slimmer form. Jesus, even my bare feet looked like a giant’s as they bracketed hers from behind.
With both hands, she reached for the bottom of her tank top that tucked mid-thigh around her legs. She pulled it up, slowly stripping it off, baring her upper thighs and a tiny triangle of black cloth covering her pussy.
I leaned back, and a thin strip of lace appeared between the firm globes of her ass cheeks.
“Fuck,” I grunted.
Wiggling, she slipped the top higher, over her hips, her belly, to the bottom of her breasts.
I kept my gaze fastened on the mirror. My hands itched to touch her. Her skin, appearing inch by inch, looked satin soft, healthy, and heat emanated from her.
With a final tug, she raised her arms and skimmed the top free. It fell in a soft whoosh from her fingertips. My eyes trained forward, meeting and colliding with hers before I dropped my gaze.
My heart pounded.
Full up-tilted tits bounced on her chest.
My cock almost drove me forward.
Her nipples pebbled like pretty, pale pink strawberries.
I lifted a hand. I started to say something. My voice was too gruff and too low to make work.
“Ready to see the rest, sir?” Tilly reached to her waist, and my stare aimed even lower than its zoomed-in location on her breasts.
Yes yes yes fuck yes.
Nod, nod, nod, nod, nod.
Her ass butted my groin when she bent over. I stepped away because fuck yes again.
Tilly wound the material from her ass, from her pussy, down her thighs. She lowered her upper body, and from where I stood the apples of her bottom rose high in the air. She kept her legs together until the last moment when she plucked the thong from beneath her feet.
She slung the G-string away. Christ. I wanted those as keepsakes. A goddamn memento. A shrine.
Every part of her remained hidden as she rose in front of me. She clasped one arm across her breasts and a hand at the juncture of her legs.
With a flirty glance and a hot smile, she asked, “Ready, Justice?”
I could’ve hammered a huge hole through plaster with my cock by that point. And my mouth was dry as the desert.
Nod, nod.
I struggled to find my voice. “Show me.”
She lowered her arms.
Rubbing my mouth, I took my fill of her. “Ahhh, fuck, Tilly.”
Jesus.
Dainty feet. Strong, well-turned legs. That buttery skin. Her . . . oh God . . . her pussy. Hidden between her thighs, I couldn’t see anything but the beginning of her slit and the soft pouting of her lips and a thin triangle of summer-red colored curls I wanted to lick.
I rubbed my mouth again.
I balled my fists beside me, too close to bending her over, ripping my pants open, slamming inside her.
Up, and up her body . . . a constellation of freckles crossed her left hipbone and formed a pattern inside the bowl of her pelvis. Her tits, they swelled. The tips pointed upward. They’d fill my hands, overflow them. And the last of her freckles dotted across the tops of her breasts as if painted there.
I was instantly in love with each and every one of them.
Her hands foraying from her waist to the swell of her tits, Tilly arched her back.
“Mmm.” She moaned. “Do you want to touch me, Justice?”
Groaning, I dropped my forehead to her shoulder. “Fuck, girl. You love making me sweat, don’t you?”
“Girl?” She cupped herself, fanning her fingers over the high pink crests I wanted in my mouth, pronto.
Gone was the girl-next-door look. Tilly was wanton. Wicked. Stealing across my senses.
My head snapped up, and my eyes almost pinged out of my head. “Woman.” My voice gravel, I wound her hair around my wrist. “Gonna touch you everywhere.”
Slanting
her head with a sharp tug, I kissed her with proprietary, pounding rawness. Her tongue coiled with mine, and my hands took over plumping and playing with her tits.
With her nipples rolled between my thumbs and palms, I released her mouth to suck hard bites along her neck. Her head drifted to rest on my shoulder as a long moan stuttered out of her.
“Tilly, Tilly, Tilly,” I whispered, wallowing in her flesh and her warmth.
Delirious eyes struggled to open and find mine. I plucked her nipples again, watching the shock of my touch travel in shivers along her body.
Pressing me back, Tilly swept her hair forward over her shoulders so the tight pink buds played hide and seek from within the clouds of her tresses. “I get to undress you now.”
“Have at me.” I winked, spreading my arms wide.
At the rate my cock was pounding, she’d need a frigging knife to get me out of my pants.
But if she went at it with her lips and tongue instead I wouldn’t complain.
She stood so close her bare feet overlaid mine, and even her fucking feet were sexy. Her breasts brushed against my shirt, and I couldn’t help myself from running the backs of my knuckles up and down, backward and forward over the soft mounds.
She leaned forward, her elbows braced on my chest for a moment, catching her breath with each slow gentle caress.
My hands fell to my buckle, but she pulled herself together and slapped them out of the way.
“Mine,” she said.
I bit back a chuckle that soon grew into a groan when her fingers twisted the metal open. Her wrist casually connected with the thick rod in my pants, and when I hissed a breath she got a naughty look on her face. Tracing her fingers down the inseam of my night camos, she skimmed the tightly packed roll of my cock.
The shock of her touch hit me deep in my overcrowded balls.
“Hmm. Might need a crowbar to get you out of these.”
My thoughts exactly.
“If you keep going in that direction I’m not gonna last very long.” I gave a shaky, broken laugh.
“Is that so?”
Nod, nod.
My dick nodded, too.
She slung the belt from the loops, sailed it aside with a metallic clang then yanked my shirt free of the pants. Her warm hands traveled beneath the hem, and every small move she made sent her tits swaying and my pulse hammering harder.
“Maybe I should start here first then.” She bit her lip, peering up at me with a combo of fresh innocence and age-old womanliness.
Tackling the tight shirt, she slid it up my abs, her palms skating along my muscles that contracted and released. I provided no help at all aside from lifting my arms after she rolled the black shirt up to my pits.
She puffed hair from her eyes, grumbling, “How the hell do you get into this thing?”
I shrugged my shoulders, which tangled her fingers even more in the clinging material.
My low laughter died when she leaned against me, rising on her tiptoes to pull the shirt over my bowed head. Her tits swashed across my pecs, her hardened nipples colliding with the flat brown discs of mine.
With a triumphant shout she flung the shirt away, too.
Then her gaze narrowed. Her hands lifted.
My breath drew in raggedly. My muscles bulged out.
“Oooh, Justice. Look at you.” Her hands, her fingertips traveled over me as if memorizing the ripped muscles, the rippling dents between them, the mountains of my biceps, and the thickness of my forearms.
My head cranked back.
I had a little chest hair—not enough to be a gorilla, but definitely a full-blown male—which she appreciated by sliding her cheek against my torso. Her hands forayed up and down, discovering each divot, each sculpted slab, every one of my most sensitive spots until my thighs trembled and I’d never been so turned on in my entire life.
“Tilly,” I groaned.
“Turn around, Jus.”
With my arms lowered to my sides and my fists tightened, I did as asked.
“Oh yessss,” she hissed. “So hot.”
My skin was on fire for her as she delineated the lines of my mashed-up back piece. She kissed the words again. Semper Fi. Live or Die. She licked along the array of helmets decorating my skin from shoulder to shoulder. All the way down my spine, she made love to my scarred, inked, imperfect flesh.
I shifted my feet, wanting more. The waiting as hard as my cock straining in my pants, staining them with spreading precome with every touch she bestowed on me.
I knocked my head aside, looking back at her. “Tilly . . . please . . .”
From behind, while she littered me with more moist kisses, she snapped open my pants and tugged down the zipper. Every metallic bite collided with the harsh rush of my grunting breaths.
With my stomach concave and my thighs built of hard knots of muscle, I stood my ground when she tugged, pulled, stroked, and kneeled behind me. Her hot breaths pelted my ass, the backs of my thighs, my knees while she worked the camos all the way off my feet.
She kissed her way back up, her hands running up above her mouth. With two grips, she squeezed my ass, rimming the bottom crescents with her tongue.
“Hell of a butt, Justice.”
“I do a lot of squats,” I croaked.
“I noticed.”
Tilly bit my ass, reaching around to fist my cock.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Jesus. Jesus Christ!
I was already so fired up I couldn’t handle much more. Spinning around, I lifted her in my arms and carried her to the bedding.
She was golden and creamy and peachy and stretched out for me. Just for me. I wanted to own her, body and soul.
Sealing my lips over hers, I lay half over her. I paid attention to her body in all the right ways, none of them practiced or thought out in advance or rehearsed. Just her.
With Tilly everything was easy, and more meaningful than the whole collection of one-night encounters I’d filled my free time with before her.
Listening to her moan my name, I circled my tongue over her nipples again and again.
Watching her twist her hips, I smiled at the lush swollen softness of her pussy I spread open between two fingers.
I first wet those apricot curls that guided me lower before pulling up her thighs and licking her slit. Her juices gathered on my tongue, and I delved inside, mouthing her, kissing her.
Every part of my body inflamed while she pushed her heels into my shoulders, sliding her pelvis up for each thrust of my tongue in her cunt. I bit at her, nuzzled her, held her ass in my hands, and drank from her. Her fingers slipped to her clit, but I was right there, lightly rotating my thumb around the tiny nub before I drew it into my mouth and kissed it repeatedly, hotly.
When Tilly’s legs scissored and her back arched, I couldn’t wait any longer. Reaching for my pants, I pulled out a condom, ripped into the wrapper, and quickly sheathed myself.
My body heated to such a degree I could’ve humped the air twice and come like a fucking fresh-faced virgin.
She came down from the throes of a second orgasm, damp hair sticking to her temples, her skin flushed and glowing. Sitting in front of her, I pulled her onto my lap.
I wanted to hear her voice.
See her face.
Hold her tight.
Framing her face in my hands, my huge palms nearly eclipsed her sated, sensual expression. “You are so beautiful. Do you realize how beautiful you are?”
“Justice . . .” she purred.
Between us, my cock jumped and thumped. It brushed a path across my belly then along her inner thighs when I gripped it and pushed the broad head closer to her cunt. Her hand followed, and she curled her fingers around me.
Her other hand coiled behind my neck, and she murmured against my mouth, “You’re going to feel so good.”
My fingers swept down from her face. I cupped her tits, drawing the tips back to aching arousal. Pulling her closer with an arm running around her back, I skimmed a palm ov
er the small swell of her tummy. And lower. She kept stroking me, my cock now a thick mast standing upright between us.
Blood roared in my ears and filled me to bursting. I nudged her clit. Farther, I opened her, winding two strong fingers inside.
My new beard abraded the side of her face with a rasp. Our cheeks met, then our lips, searching, searing, sucking.
“If this were any other life, I’d—” My voice dropped, the muscles in my forearm flexed as I turned my fingers inside her and ran them in and out with lazy pulls.
Tilly lifted drugged eyes. Her hips orbited in sensual undulations when I stroked her in circles, her wetness guiding my fingers deeper and her hand on my wrist keeping me gloved inside her.
“You’d what?” she breathed out.
I’d fall in love with her. But I knew the truth as surely as I knew making love to her was going to destroy me.
I already loved her. It was impossible not to. Her fight and her fire. Her gorgeousness and her grit. Her beauty and her balls.
“I already want you more than I should, Tilly.”
She bowed her back, released my wrist, and dipped the head of my cock inside her. “Then take me. Have me. Fuck me, Justice.”
“God. Woman.” My face felt carved from stone when I grasped her waist and pulled her onto my cock.
The entry was delicious, wicked, slow. It slicked sweat along my shoulders. Every inch inside Tilly was another bad memory let go.
This woman breathed life into my very being.
She was warmth. Heat.
She is life.
“Justice!” She gasped, folding her arms around my back, her legs around my waist.
We met, and there was nothing else between us. Everything between us. Her breasts crashed to my chest. Her mouth hit my neck. Her cunt took me, shook me, rippled over me in waves.
“So good. You’re so good, Tilly.” I grunted, doubling my arms around her—keeping her locked tight.
Every vibration inside her stretched my skin. Inhaling with her scent in my nostrils, I leaned back, disengaging from her. Her wetness made my cock shiny. Her lushness made it hard as a spike.
I pulled her onto me again, and she tossed her head back. Bending down, I cushioned her ass on my thighs, her hips in my hands, and her nipples on my tongue. Pink and aroused, they were perfect. Tilly was perfect.
