by Kate Stacy
His eyes bore into me, as my eyes roam his body.
Down his neck, covered with colorful ink.
Across his broad chest, surprisingly bare.
Over the defined muscles of his abdomen.
I pull my bottom lip between my teeth as my eyes venture down the thin trail of hair below his navel. I watch raptly as his hands move to the button on his jeans, drawing attention to the huge bulge behind the zipper.
My heart races, breath becoming shallow.
My mouth waters, heat unfurling in my belly.
He pulls the zipper down and stops.
My eyes flash to his and he grins. It’s dark, devious, and downright fucking dirty.
“Strip.”
Following his order, I shift to my knees and draw my shirt over my head. Dropping it on the floor beside the bed, I hook my thumbs into the band of my leggings and draw them down, stopping when they reach my knees. Leaving them in place, I reach behind me, unhooking my bra to let the straps slide free from my arms. Closing my eyes, I keep myself covered with one arm across my chest and toss the bra to the side.
My eyelids flutter open and I meet his stare, looking up at him from beneath my lashes.
It’s a challenge, a dare.
One he accepts with a quirk of his lips.
He pushes down his jeans and underwear in one fell swoop, leaving him fully bare before my eyes.
My jaw drops as I take in his physique. I knew his body would be impressive, but I never imagined something so perfect. Taut, muscular thighs and calves, the goddamn Adonis belt that makes him look like a Greek god, and his cock. Oh. My. God. It’s hard and thick, jutting up to just below his belly button. I salivate thinking of how much it’s going to stretch and fill me.
Nothing could have prepared me for this.
When my eyes meet his again, he lifts a brow, issuing a challenge of his own.
Straightening my spine, I let my arm fall to my side.
The unobstructed view I give him earns me a delicious growl.
A breath later, my legs are swept out from under me and his weight settles on top of me, pressing me into the mattress. He flicks his tongue against my bottom lip. A simple tease. A little taste of what’s to come.
Another ragged breath and he’s gone, yanking my leggings and panties down my legs, settling between them.
I’m so primed, so fucking ready, I come with a single swipe from his tongue.
Adam doesn’t stop.
My orgasm only urges him on, his tongue working my clit at an almost punishing pace.
Overwhelmed with sensation, my body twists and writhes, trying to get closer and pulling away simultaneously. Adam grabs hold of my hips, holding me down as he plays my body. It’s like he instinctively knows what it needs, and he gives it to me in exactly the right way. One orgasm turns to two as another climax barrels through me, exploding so violently, my vision goes dim.
I scream his name, practically strangling him when my thighs clamp together around his head.
Adam continues his ministrations until the last tremors ripple through my body.
Lifting his head, he watches me with dark, hooded eyes as I try to catch my breath.
“You’ve never had it like this, have you, Princess?”
All I can do is whimper. Words don’t exist in my world right now.
Chuckling, he lowers his head and licks me in a slow, teasing rhythm, his tongue fluttering against me sinfully. It’s the most magnificent torture I’ve ever felt, but it’s not enough.
I push myself toward his face, begging for more. He moves a hand to my lower belly, palm holding me steady as he adds his fingers to my torment, building me up until I’m desperate and teetering near the edge. His fingers discover the perfect spot as his tongue works my raw flesh.
Licking and sucking.
Nibbling and biting.
Drawing me higher and higher into oblivion.
Pulses of pure pleasure build, my entire body flushes with heat.
Lost in a haze of intense sensations, not enough suddenly becomes far too much.
“It’s too much,” I cry out as my hips jerk against him. “I can’t take it.”
His fingers don’t stop moving, but he chuckles and looks up at me, shaking his head.
“You can take it, Princess. Relax and give in. Let the feeling take over your entire fucking body.”
With that, he lowers his mouth back to my pussy, his tongue vibrating as he hums.
Seconds later, stars explode behind my eyes and I fly into the atmosphere as Adam wrenches another orgasm from my body. He growls, devouring me as gush after gush of fluid leaves my body. It washes over me in waves, rolling and crashing, leaving me wrung out and feeling more alive than ever.
TWENTY
Adam
One taste.
A single taste is all it took for me to understand the urge to put your mouth on something you know is bad for you.
A single taste to know that one taste will never be enough.
A single fucking taste to wreck and ruin me.
Pressing a wet, open-mouth kiss to the inside of her thigh, I rake my teeth over the skin. Biting down, I suck firmly on her flesh, making certain to leave my mark behind. I kiss, nibble, and suck my way up her body until I hover above her, desperate to feel more.
With her sweet flavor still on my lips, I capture her mouth, teasing her lips open with my tongue. As her tongue tangles with mine, I groan, sucking on her bottom lip before pulling away.
“Fuck, Presley. You taste so fucking good. I want to bury myself in you.”
I lower my body to hers, grinding my throbbing cock against her core.
She locks her legs around my hips and pulls me closer.
“What are you waiting for?”
I bite back a curse as my cock twitches at her words alone.
“Condom?” I ask, hoping she has one handy.
I hate to admit it, but I didn’t come prepared for this. I didn’t expect to find myself here with her.
In her bed. Between her sexy as fuck thighs.
Biting her bottom lip, she shakes her head.
“I’m clean, and protected.”
“Fuuuucckkk. Are you sure, baby?”
She arches her back, pressing us closer together. Body to body. Skin to skin.
It’s all the permission I need.
Giving my dick a long, hard stroke, I notch the head against her entrance and fill her up in one smooth thrust. A shudder racks my body as she gasps my name, eyes rolling back in ecstasy as my cock stretches her open.
I don’t pause. I don’t hesitate.
I fuck her with uncontrolled force, unleashing every bit of lust and arousal that’s built up inside me every day since I first met her.
I ease out, thrusting right back in. Over and over. Again, and again.
I lose myself in her body.
Soft. Tight. Warm. Wanting.
Hands grip flesh. Nails bite into skin. Mouths meet in wet, messy kisses.
It’s chaos in the best of ways.
Raw, primal, unbridled passion.
Savage fucking at its finest.
I fuck her until the world blurs.
All I know is the taste of her lips.
The sound of her pleasure.
The feel of her tight little cunt clenching around my cock.
I offer no mercy, punishing her body with pleasure for all the times she made me want her when I couldn’t stand her. My pretty little fucking princess. She whimpers into my mouth, the sound sending a shock of pleasure straight down my spine. I reach up and grab a fistful of her soft pink hair, tugging her head back, forcing her to look at me.
“You like how I fuck you, Princess?”
Her lips part on a moan and her glittering green eyes turn three shades darker.
She’s breathless, unable to speak.
Her fingernails dig harder into my back and I
can feel them breaking skin. I don’t give a single fuck. Presley could bleed me dry and I wouldn’t care, not as long as she lets me keep fucking her like this.
My spine starts to tingle, but I’ll be damned if I come before I get her off one last time.
I lower my head, drawing her nipple into my mouth. Biting down, I tug with my teeth until she moans. Grinning against her flesh, I release the tight little bud, I do the same to the other. Back and forth, Teeth and tongue. Ravishing her. Driving her out of her mind.
“Are you gonna come for me?”
She doesn’t answer me, but she doesn’t need to.
I can feel it.
In the way her body trembles, her legs shake, her tight, silky heat contracts all around my cock.
Knowing she’s right there on the edge sends me into overdrive.
Sitting back on my heels, I lift her ass from the bed, never breaking stride. The new angle gets me deeper and I hit that magic spot inside on every thrust.
Seconds later, she’s screaming my name for the entire building to hear.
My hands tighten on her hips, fingers digging into her supple flesh and I fuck her hard and fast until electric tingles shoot down my spine and my body locks up tight.
With an animalistic growl, I throw my head back as I exhale hard and come even harder.
Body giving out on me, I drop forward, careful not to put all my weight on her and bury my face in her neck. She doesn’t move, doesn’t push me away.
We lie there together, a tangled mess of trembling limbs and panting breaths.
I’m still inside of her minutes later when I realize her breath has evened out and she’s fallen asleep.
She doesn’t wake when I slip out of her and out of bed.
Nor when I come back from her bathroom with a wet cloth to clean her up.
I toss the cloth in her hamper and climb back into bed next to her, lying flat on my back with my arms crossed underneath my head. Presley rolls over, curling her body against mine. I wrap an arm around her and hold her close, tipping my head down to watch her sleep.
She’s so fucking beautiful like this.
This connection we share...it’s intense.
No one has ever made me feel the way she does.
Truthfully? It scares the shit out of me.
But I’ll be damned if I don’t want more.
More of her.
More of this.
More of us.
I think that might be what scares me the most.
I wake in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar place.
Opening my eyes to a shock of silky pink hair sends the memories of last night flooding back.
Holy fucking hell.
Not wanting to wake Presley, I slip out of her bed and snag my boxer briefs from the floor before heading into the bathroom to take care of business. After taking a leak and washing my hands, my search for a spare toothbrush comes up empty, so I use hers.
She hasn’t stirred by the time I come out, so with one last look through bleary eyes, I leave her bedroom and make my way to the kitchen. Trudging down the hall, I scratch my stomach, thinking about the three things I want the most this morning.
Coffee. Breakfast. Morning sex.
Not necessarily in that order, but coffee first for sure.
Popping a pod into the coffee maker, I lean against the counter and wait for it to brew. My stomach grumbles, my hunger making me grin as I think about the way I burned all those extra calories last night. I'm sure I'm not the only one who worked up an appetite.
Opening Presley’s fridge, any thoughts of making her breakfast die a quick death when I find it practically bare.
Caramel flavored coffee creamer. An open bottle of wine. A bag of Kit-Kat minis. And the typical bottles of condiments lining the door.
What the hell does this girl eat?
Closing the refrigerator door with a sigh, I turn to grab my coffee and bump right into Presley. She jumps back with a startled little yelp, blinking up at me with wide eyes.
"I...sorry—"
I cut her off with a kiss.
"Morning, Princess," I murmur against her lips.
My actions surprise both of us, but I hide my reaction and reach around her for my coffee.
"Want some?" I ask, looking at her from the corner of my eye.
She stands motionless for a second, fingertips against her lips where I kissed her, before shaking it off.
"Yeah...um...sure."
I hum a noise of acknowledgement and pop another pod into the machine.
She’s acting a little strange, more than usual. Something tells me she’s surprised by more than my actions. If I had to guess, I’d say she didn’t expect to see me here this morning. What I can’t figure out is why. Did the guys she’s been with in the past not stick around? Is this morning after as unusual for her as it is for me?
I don’t do mornings.
I don’t even do nights.
Last night was the first night I’ve ever shared a bed with a woman. The first night I’ve ever slept with the warmth of a woman’s body pressed against mine. Holding her in my arms all night was comfortable, intimate. I wouldn’t mind doing it again. Especially if it follows another night of incredible sex.
If I were more awake, I’d probably be questioning my thoughts. Wanting something so personal and intimate with a woman is unlike me, but I’m still blissed out, riding the high from last night.
It’s the Presley effect.
I don’t know what this thing is between the two of us, but I’m done trying to pretend it doesn’t exist. Despite my incorrect assumptions about the type of person she is, there’s always been this pull, something tugging me closer to her. It strengthens the more I’m around her.
It’s a foreign feeling, but it’s one I want to explore.
The loud beep from the coffee maker pulls me from my thoughts and I stand back, watching as Presley adds more than a healthy amount of sugar and creamer to her mug. She stirs, takes a sip, and scrunches up her nose in the most adorable way before adding more creamer. Tasting it again, she closes her eyes and breathes a satisfied hum.
Taking a large gulp of my black coffee, I lean back against the counter and observe.
On a regular day, Presley is undeniably beautiful.
I’ve seen her dressed down in leggings and a hoodie. I’ve seen her dressed up in a sexy as sin dress.
No matter what she wears, how she fixes her hair, or how much makeup she puts on her face, Presley is always gorgeous.
But seeing her like this?
Wearing nothing more than a tiny pair of booty shorts and an oversized tee. Face clean and free of makeup. Hair wild and mussed from a combination of sleep and my rough hands.
She’s fucking perfect.
This look? It’s my favorite.
She takes another sip of coffee and her eyes flutter open, widening when they land on me.
Chuckling, I set my mug down on the counter and grab her by her waist, pulling her into me.
“Forget I was here?”
She smiles and my morning gets even brighter.
“Yeah, I kinda did.” She innocently lifts her shoulder. “Not used to having company first thing in the morning...or overnight for that matter.”
“That mean I’m the first?” I ask, needing the confirmation that no other man has enjoyed her like this.
She gives me a little roll of her eyes, but nods.
“Good. Was gonna make breakfast…” I let it hang there and steal a brief kiss.
She laughs against my lips. “I rarely eat at home. I usually stop by my sister’s bakery on the way to work and grab something there.”
“Makes sense. Maybe next time.”
I didn’t expect those words to come out of my mouth, but I don’t regret them.
Presley and I may not be putting a label on whatever this is, but I’m nowhere near finished with her.
&nbs
p; There’s definitely going to be a next time.
TWENTY-ONE
Adam
The tip of the pencil glides swiftly across the page as I finish the shading on the roses and darken the outline of the stopwatches to make them stand out. Moving on to the details of the clock faces, my eyes flit from the drawing, to my notes, and back again. I work meticulously, adding the intricate details and times to the design, making sure it’s flawless.
I can’t get this wrong because it’s a beautiful tribute to her sisters. Each watch represents one of the triplets, the hands of the clocks set on the time each was born.
When I’m done, I tilt my head to the side, inspecting it from different angles. It looks good, but something is still missing. Something that makes it uniquely her.
Leaning back, I close my eyes and picture her in my mind.
The slopes of her body, the curve of her hips, the fullness of her thighs.
Biting back a groan as my dick begins to harden, I try to focus.
Think of her body as a canvas, Adam. Not a toy.
But fuck if I don’t wanna play with her again.
My eyes pop open as the voice of my best friend cuts through my thoughts.
“Am I interrupting something?”
Chuckling, he gives me a knowing look.
“Dick,” I mutter. “Just tryin’ to finish up this design. What’s up, Ry?”
He crosses the small space of my office and leans over, looking at the drawing. “Hmm. Add a little lace and that looks like something Presley would love.”
Jerking my head back, I raise a brow.
Lace is perfect. Why the hell didn’t I think of that?
Maybe because I’m too busy picturing her luscious curves beneath me.
“Oh, shit,” he laughs, shaking his head. “It’s for her, isn’t it? Yeah...it’s for her. What the hell is going on between the two of you anyway?”
I don’t answer him right away. Instead, I go back to the sketchbook in front of me and start adding in some lace detailing along the bottom rose. It’s not that I don’t want to answer him. I don’t fucking know how.
