My moans are music to his ears; he turns restless and hungry and growly. His hands tug and pull at my nightshirt, trying to get it off but instead, straining the fabric against my flesh, like he can’t imagine letting my mouth go to rid my body of clothes. Like the kiss is too important and my clothes can go fuck themselves. I would have laughed if I didn’t think the same.
My barely-there nails drag across the expanse of his back. Now I get why girls are crazy for manicures and long, sexy nails. I could’ve decorated his back with scratches. Love-wounds.
When the lack of air becomes a problem, his lips slide down, wet and warm. He’s sucking on my neck, taking the skin in between his teeth, vacuuming it inside his mouth. It stings and all my blood rushes to the spot, making it throb. I open my mouth to tell him to stop. My mom will see it.
But then I realize that I’m not back home anymore. I’m here. I keep forgetting that I’m free. Despite the pain in my neck, I smile at the water-stained ceiling, baring my throat to his teeth. He sucks and sucks until my thighs quiver around his waist, then he lets go before licking the skin with his hot tongue.
“You’re wearing my mark now, Pixie. Now the whole world will know you belong to me,” he rasps.
“Abel…” My hips come off the bed and grind into his erection, making him shudder. “Now.”
He lifts his head and looks at me with drowsy, lust-filled eyes. “So bossy.”
I clutch his hair, whining his name.
Amused, he shakes off my puny hold and crawls down my body. He reaches my stomach and my thighs have to part even more to fit the breadth of his shoulders. It’s a wonder I’m not ashamed of this position, spread thighs, hitched-up clothes, panties — wet panties — on display. A week ago I would’ve been, but after that night, after witnessing his longing on paper, after realizing my own desires and posing for him naked, I’m not. I can never be. Not with my Abel.
His rough hands bunch my nightdress even more, sliding it up until I’m naked from the waist down save for the very wet, very white panties. His eyes are pinned to them and his lips quirk up. He brings one hand away from my thighs and flicks the seam of my underwear around my waist, stopping at the tiny flower in the middle. “You’ve got a daisy on your pussy.”
I have a thing for flowered underwear; he knows that. He’s seen a few back in school and he never fails to remind me how adorable he finds it. I wish I wasn’t so aroused so I could narrow my eyes at his smiling ones, like I usually do. As it is, I settle for a muttered shut up, which makes him smile even more. He leans over and presses a kiss on the flower.
That… he hasn’t done before and I jump a little.
Then, he tugs the elastic of my panties down, down and down, until they are gone and my sex is bared. Air brushes against my wet curls and even wetter core, making it clench, and he witnesses all of that as the sun climbs up the sky.
Hungry and horny, Abel kneels in between my thighs and forces them even farther away, until I’m almost doing a split, feeling the pressure in my muscles and gripping the sheets. He stares at my core like he’ll never get to see it again, and I stare up at him.
The other night, things happened too fast. I didn’t take the time to study him. But now I do. I’ll use my entire lifetime to study him, commit his body to memory so when I die, I’ll see him flash before my eyes.
I start at his neck, graceful and stubbly with tight veins and an Adam’s apple. One of these days, I’m going to lick it, learn its taste. His shoulders are made of bulging muscles, tight waves of strength that go down to his biceps and his forearms.
His silver necklace reaches down to his chest, sitting warm and sexy, swaying slightly with his breaths. The arches of his pecs are tight and sculpted with bronzed skin that I want to track and map with my nails. Just like the ridges of his abs. The slight sprinkle of his chest hair makes me want to nuzzle my nose in it, before tucking it in the triangle of his throat.
I swallow when my eyes reach down to the slightly darker curls that trail and disappear down his boxer shorts. Holy cow, his dick is tenting that fabric something fierce. There’s a whole mountain down there. I’m probably not the only girl to think this but… how is it ever going to fit inside me?
“I need to taste your cherry before I take it,” he murmurs, bending down, his silver cross oscillating from his movements and hitting my cleft.
“Oh, God…” I moan, jerking as if electrocuted.
That was so sacrilegious. So sinful and wrong but so fucking right.
But I have no time to think about it because Abel takes a whiff. A long whiff of my slit and my brain freezes. He hums at the smell and I swear I feel those vibrations right up in my stomach.
“Abel, stop. That’s gross.”
He nuzzles his nose on the outside of my hole, making my butt grind against the bed. “You should’ve thought of that before, Pixie.” He smells my pussy again and looks up at me, rubbing his stubbled chin across my swollen lips. “I’m not stopping now, not until I have you gushing on my tongue. Let’s see if I can put my theoretical skills to good use.”
I gulp at the clear lust in his eyes. He’s gone all dark and flushed. Even though he’s lying down on his chest, his face almost buried between my legs, he looks larger than me, this bed, this room even.
His first lick is hot and it almost sends me off to the roof. It’s a good thing I can’t even move because Abel is holding me down. My hands go to his shoulders and I hold on to his rippling muscles. The flat of his tongue sweeps from bottom to top as he tastes my juices. He’s greedy in his licks. They are big and wide and span my entire core, and every time my taste hits his tongue he grunts.
God, those sounds make me as wild as his lapping tongue. He’s really eating me up, like I’m a delicacy or a food he’s tasting for the first time. But he isn’t shy about it. He isn’t taking short, unsure licks. He’s ravenous. Starving. A man walking in the desert for so long that every atom inside his body craves water. You can’t ask him to go slow. You can’t torture him by giving him one sip at a time, even if drinking it all in one go will make him sick. So I open my legs even more, the unused muscles in my thighs, my butt even, string up tight. And I press my core into his mouth.
Abel goes crazy then. He licks, almost slaps my pussy with his tongue, as if he’s mad at her. His thumbs press on both sides of my lips, plumping them up until he fits them in his mouth.
“Oh God… I…”
That’s so dirty and rude and obscene. I don’t have any more words for this. Who does this? Cramming my entire pussy inside his mouth, sucking it up?
Even as I think that, my tummy is tightening, the buzzing inside me morphing into something big. I loll my head back and forth on the pillow, tugging on his hair or scratching his shoulders, whatever I can get my hands on.
I think I can’t take it anymore. I think that I’ll be dead in the next five seconds. But no. What I’ve been feeling is nothing compared to what I feel right now, this second when Abel turns his attention to that little button at the top. My clit. He bites it and I scream. His short laugh echoes in the room.
Abel soothes the sting with his tongue before doing it again. This time I muffle my scream in the pillow and when I open my eyes, I’m looking at myself.
Oh shit.
I forgot about the mirror. It stands adjacent to the bed, all tall and big and I can see myself and Abel’s golden head in it. I can see my hair tangled up and snarly, fanned around. My nightshirt is half open, revealing the tops of my breasts, flushed red and heaving. I watch my hands in his hair, pushing him away, pulling him close. My thighs are spread open and shaking, one flung over his naked shoulder, the other going right to the end of the mattress.
Abel’s head is moving, up and down, side to side. It’s filthy. It’s how I’ve seen animals eat their food, with abandon, or maybe people in ancient times. The very first man might have eaten his food this way. He must have found it on the ground and fallen on it. Then he must have licked and lapped and
swallowed it whole, without using his hands.
But did he grind his pelvis on the earth? Did he fuck the ground in rapture at finally tasting something so good?
No. I don’t think so. I don’t think anyone has done what Abel is doing right now. He’s so aroused, so into it that he’s humping the bed. I can see his tight butt moving, grinding into the mattress.
The image drives me crazy. So crazy that I’m on the verge of an orgasm. Only this one is going to be big, explosive.
“Abel…” I moan high, probably sounding like the couple next door.
Then, I feel a pinch and a curse. “Fuck yeah.”
The pinch grows and I realize Abel is cramming his finger – two fingers, three – inside my wet, steaming core and that’s it. That’s when the game is over and I fall. And what a glorious fall it is. My thighs are quaking while my stomach is all taut and tight, and I’m arched toward the roof. My breasts point heavenward, while he curses into my rippling channel and I chant his name over and over. If this isn’t religion, then I don’t know what is. If this isn’t the purest thing, then I don’t want to live in this world.
I come back down to earth and feel the mattress on my sweaty back when Abel emerges. His mouth is all wet, lips shining with my arousal. He’s panting. Every breath releases a growl. His eyes are all dark now. Black and void of every emotion but lust. Kind of like the eyes of a demon. A shiver runs through me at the state he’s in right now.
He stands over me and strips his shorts off. All I can do is watch him and writhe on the bed when his dick comes into view.
Oh, sweet baby Jesus.
It’s big. I knew it would be. I knew it. But still. It’s crowned with an angry color and there’s a vein running on the underside of it. The entire shade of his cock is dusky and angry and painful-looking. Abel grips the base, pumps it up and down, then pinches the top, groaning with his head thrown back.
When he opens his eyes, he whispers, “I have to do this. Or I’ll die, Pixie.”
He falls to his knees again, and my hand goes out to touch his chest. Oh God, he’s burning up, his heart beating wildly. I soothe it with my hand, run my palm in circles, and he shudders. The hand gripping his cock begins to move, jerk up and down, rapidly, until all I see is a blur.
“You’re right in front of me and I’m so fucking sick that I can’t wait,” he pants.
Why is this so arousing? His need for me, his desperation.
I get up then and take my useless nightshirt off before lying back down. All I want is for him to come and I want to help him, maybe offer my body for his cum to land on. I press my hands where I’m needy the most, where I know he’ll love seeing them the most, like the pictures he drew and the photos he took: my still-pulsing sex and my boobs. With one hand, I cup my pussy and with the other, I palm one creamy mound. I moan at how good it feels. My breasts are so sore, all swollen and heavy and sensitive, and my core is still shooting out tiny waves of orgasm.
It’s too much for my Abel. The shameful picture I make. With one last pump of his dick, he comes. A string of curses escapes his lips as frothy cum shoots out of his shaft, splashing over my naked body: my breasts, my throat, my stomach. It’s hot and sticky, and it has a distinct musky smell.
He comes and comes until he sags, as much as he can with that hard body. He opens his eyes and looks at me. I give him a tiny smile and run my fingers along the trails of the cream he lashed on me. I want to taste it, and I do. I swirl my finger in it and pop it in my mouth. Spicy flavor explodes on my tongue and I moan, closing my eyes, feeling sleepy and satisfied.
Now I’m complete. Now I can maybe rest a little before giving myself to him.
“Fuck me, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he says in awe and I have to laugh. I’m not that beautiful. It’s Abel who makes me that.
I hold my arms open and he fits himself over my body before kissing me. We kiss for a long time, languid and lazy kisses. Open-mouthed and wet. I feel like this is how people kiss on Sundays, taking their time, on a bed, not in any hurry to go to church and confess their sins. Because the kisses have already absolved them of all the sins they’ve committed. Wet kisses have baptized them all, somehow.
That’s how I drift off to sleep this Sunday morning. Baptized and absolved of all my sins.
The next day, Abel’s gone before I’m up.
I can’t believe I slept on and off for about a day. No, actually I can’t believe I passed out just before we were going to have sex.
After that intense orgasm, I could barely keep my eyes open for Abel’s kisses. We both crashed and before I knew it, a grumbling stomach was waking me up. We had pizza. Again. Then he fed me Toblerones and I promised him that I’d stay awake. I was determined to lose my virginity — our virginities. Alas, I fell asleep on his chest. I remember his body shaking with chuckles and him pressing a kiss in my hair, before falling asleep wrapped around me.
On the pillow, I find a note from him. It makes me smile, reminding me of the little love notes he’d leave for me in my locker, until I read it.
Going with Ethan to his studio. Stay put. I’ll be back soon.
PS: You snore in your sleep, Pixie.
“I do not,” I tell the empty room, frowning. Jerk.
Oh well. I can’t be mad when I’m so excited for him. I know he’ll get the job. There isn’t any other option with how talented he is. Though I feel a little sad that when I’m finally awake he’s gone.
I stumble out of bed, my body sore and tight from all the sleeping. I do my business in the bathroom. My tummy grumbles telling me I need to eat something before I figure out my plan for today. I go into the kitchen and then jump out of my skin, shrieking. Someone’s already in there – a girl. She’s wearing a bathrobe, while eating a cookie and drinking beer.
For a fraction of a second, I think the worst. She’s a burglar who’s here to rob us, or rather Ethan, since this is his apartment. Damn it. Sky would be so great in a situation like this. I make fun of her slingshots but that girl has excellent aim. God, I miss her.
Focus!
I try to look intimidating but the girl simply smiles at me, taking a bite of her cookie and washing it down with her beer. “Hey. I’m Blu. I’m just waiting for Ethan. Are you new?”
She takes it in stride, my sudden appearance. I don’t know what to think. “Oh. Um, kinda.” She raises a curious, non-threatening eyebrow and for some reason, I’m compelled to explain, “I mean, to the city.”
“Really? You just moved?” At my nod, she looks me up and down and I feel self-conscious. “Wow. I love your hair. Is that the real color? All yellow?”
I flick fingers through the strands of my yellow hair, fidgeting. “Uh, yeah. Yes, it is.”
“No way. Gosh, blondes are so freaking popular. People love’em. Like, I can’t even tell you how much. So where’d he find you?”
“Where’d who find me?”
She smiles at me, all calm-like. “Ethan.”
Either this girl is super weird or I have no idea how people talk in the big city. “I’m here with Abel. Ethan’s friend. He’s letting us crash in his apartment until we find our own place. Um, I’m E… You can call me Pixie.”
“Cute name.” She grins. “Cookie?”
“Yeah.” I gratefully reach for her offering and wolf it down in exactly zero point five seconds.
“So you just moved here? With your boyfriend, you said?”
Putting something in my stomach is already starting to make me feel better. “He’s my fiancé and yes. Just.”
“Huh. I’m sorry. Ethan didn’t say anything.”
“Yeah, it was sort of sudden. We weren’t planning on moving.” Or eloping. When she looks curious again, I sort of change the subject. “In fact, they’re out together right now. They’ve gone to Ethan’s studio. Abel’s a photographer too, and Ethan said he could try to get him a job.”
Despite my wariness, I smile. I can’t stop smiling. I probably never will. Who
can when they are in love with a guy like Abel? The mark on my neck throbs. I clench my thighs thinking about the intense way he ate me out. So intense that I passed out. Great move, that.
“No kidding. A photographer?”
Well, there goes my smile. I don’t like her expression, surprised and sort of condescending. Does she think Abel’s less in any way or something?
“Yes, he is,” I bristle. “In fact, he’s one of the best photographers I know.” Honestly, Abel’s the only photographer I know but I speak the truth. He is the best, or if he’s not, he will be.
After studying me for a beat, she holds her hands up in surrender. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m sure Abel’s great. I just…” She searches for words and I narrow my eyes at her. “Got a little surprised when you said Ethan was gonna hook him up with a job. That’s all.”
“Why?” I’m suspicious. “Do you think he’s lying? Ethan?”
She chuckles. “No. No. Ethan’s cool. I just… I wasn’t expecting to see you here and find Ethan gone. I was supposed to meet with him.”
I make a non-committal sound. I don’t like her. I feel like she’s hiding something. Is she here to steal from Ethan, after all? Because who the hell goes to meet someone in a bathrobe? I’m about to ask her that when her phone chimes and her focus shifts. I take the moment to study her made-up face, smoky hazel eyes, red lipstick and wavy dark hair. She’s pretty, I guess, and tall and athletic, like a model and unlike me. I think she’s a bit older than me too. Maybe in her mid-twenties.
At last, she looks up from her phone and gives me a calm smile. “It was Ethan. He forgot to tell me that our appointment was canceled.” She finishes off the last of her cookie. “Well, anyway. I’m gonna go now. It was nice to meet you. I hope you enjoy the city. It’s a great place to live.”
She gets up and grabs her bag from where it was sitting on the counter, telling me she needs to use the bathroom for a second. I can’t exactly stop her; it’s not my house. While she’s gone, I hunt for coffee and some toast. I’m trying to work the coffee machine, and wondering about the girl’s strange presence, when I hear footsteps and I find Blu in the living room, dressed in a maroon dress.
Gods & Monsters Page 14
