My hand clenched around my cock when she reached down and feathered her fingers over the inside of her thighs.
“Was it just one finger that I was allowed?” She asked, holding up a single finger in front of her entrance, circling it around, and then pointing it at me.
“Just one,” I croaked out.
She glided one finger around her opening before slowly pushing it inside of herself. I sped my pace up, sweat building up around the back of my neck, and I tore my shirt off with one hand. Multi-tasking at its fucking finest. She used one finger like she’d been instructed and dipped it in and out of her core. I struggled to breath when I noticed her juices dripping from between her legs and onto the armrest of the couch.
Our eyes were locked, the tempo of our hands in synchronization. I was on fire; surprised I could even stand up when she added another finger. Her hand was slick and steady. In and out. I pumped my cock. Up and down.
I lost all of my power when she twisted a nipple with her free hand. I dropped my hand and her skin burned against my touch when I reached her. I slipped my fingers inside her wet pussy, feeling them rub against hers, as we pleased her together. Her back arched, her ass almost falling off the edge of the couch, and I pulled her fingers out.
She groaned when I grabbed her hips and slowly lowered us down onto the couch. I propped a foot onto the floor, settled a knee to her side to balance myself, giving me the perfect angle to play with her pussy.
I salivated, watching her squirm beneath me, her breasts jiggling with every drum of my finger, begging for my attention. Her hand went to my neck, holding me tight, when my mouth wrapped around her hard, pink nipple. My tongue swirled around the tiny peak and I lightly flicked it with the tip of my tongue. Her nails bit into my hand working her, I allowed her to set the speed on how she wanted me to give it to her.
“You have the body of an angel,” I said, tearing my mouth away. She shivered as I dragged my hand down her body, in between her breast, and slowly stroked her clit. Her hair was tangled up underneath her neck, tendrils falling from her ponytail and over her eyes.
“Just fuck me already,” she hissed, her hand hot against mine as she pushed it down, urging me to move faster.
“And the mouth of a sailor,” I said, chuckling.
“Trust me,” she breathed out, lifting her chin. “This mouth is much more advanced than a sailor’s.” She gripped my neck to slam our lips back together. “Let me show you.”
Her hand splayed out onto my stomach and I grunted when she pushed me back. She fell forward on her knees. My hips rocked forward, my mouth shooting open, when she took me in her mouth and sucked me. I lost all of my focus, not hearing a word she was muttering against my cock while she worked me in and out.
I pulled her ponytail loose, snatching up a handful of her soft hair, and pumped my hips. I was close, so close, but I wasn’t doing it without her.
She yelped when I pulled away from her, grabbed her hips to hoist her up, and quickly sunk her down onto my cock. I kissed her hot mouth and held her gaze as she slowly started to ride me. I felt every inch of her as we rocked against each other.
I growled, grabbing her tits in my hand and squeezing them, while she impaled me over and over again. Her pussy took my cock, her ass smacking into my thighs, and our bodies worked together to pleasure each other.
Her head fell back, her skin shivering, as our bodies slapped together. We lost all of our inhibitions. I wanted to move us off the couch. I wanted to pick her up and plant her in my bed, but I was giving her what she wanted. I was handing over my body and letting her do it her way. And she loved it.
She shuddered around me, her moans growing louder, as she fell down on my cock over and over again. I grunted with each thrust, looking down and watching her slide up and down my cock.
“Close,” she whispered, her dark eyes staring down at me with fire, picking up the pace. I snatched her hips, pushing her down onto me roughly and I exploded inside of her while we both let out our release.
CHAPTER TWENTY- SIX
ELISE
All of my energy was drained from me as I slouched down, my chests smacking his while I gave him all of my weight.
His lips hit my forehead. “I’ll be right back,” he said, carefully lifting me up from his body. He gently settled me onto the couch and then headed into the bedroom. My legs shook as I focused to level my tempered breathing.
“Let’s go,” he said, coming back into the living room, still naked, his limp cock bouncing with every step. I let out a whimper when he picked me up from the couch and pulled me into his arms. The bathroom light was turned off and what little light we had was brought on by the flicker of candles. “Is this okay? He glanced down at me, steam circling around us.
I gave him a small smile. “This is perfect,” I said, running my hands up his chest, and I leaning up to kiss him. “This is absolutely perfect.”
His hold loosened on me to carefully place me into the bathtub. My legs were a little wobbly and sore, and the water helped ease my muscles. I played with the bubbles in my hand, my eyes on him as he climbed in and settled down facing me.
“Question,” I said. He tilted his head to the side, waiting for me to continue. “How did you learn to use your tongue like that?”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “I hope you’re not really expecting me to answer that.”
“Oh, I really am.”
He stretched his arms out and rested his hands on my legs. “It’s not necessary learning to do it, it’s being attentive. I want to make sure you enjoy yourself as much as I’m enjoying you. It’s harder for women to get off, and unfair to think of only yourself in bed, so I make it a goal to be the last to get off.”
I bit the edge of my lip. “So the whole nice guys finish last is true?”
“Damn straight.” He wrapped his hands around my waist to bring me in closer.
I wiggled my ass against the bottom of the tub to pull away. “Now answer me, you’re trying that psychological bullshit on me to take my mind away from the question at hand. I know you’ve had plenty of practice. It’s not basic instinct to be able to use your tongue like that. So spill.”
Other guys had attempted to eat me out and I fucking hated it. Their droopy, soggy lips felt awkward on me for the few seconds they actually tried.
Wet lips smacked into mine, and he dragged a handful of bubbles across my cheek. “My first serious girlfriend wanted to wait until she was a senior before we had sex, but she’d let me do other things to her.”
“Ahhh …” I grinned a sly smile. “So you ate her out as much as you could?”
He nodded, rolling his eyes. “Pretty much, yes.”
I ran my hands up his arms. “Well, if you ever talk to her again, tell her I said thank you.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “If I talk to her again, I don’t think it would be appropriate for me to talk to her about how I used to eat her pussy. She’s married to a friend.”
I puckered my lips up. “Oh. Then I guess that’s not a good idea.”
“My turn – Did you really sleep with your other therapists?”
I shrunk down. I liked to ask him personal questions, but I hated when he did the same to me. “Just one, but it wasn’t technically sleeping with him. He fingered me twice and that’s it. He ended up feeling guilty about it and told on himself. I only told you that because I was pissed that they’d replaced Patterson with you.”
He dragged his hand along his forehead. “Not sure if I like that.”
I gave him a weak smile. “Have you lived here your entire life?” I asked, in need for a new subject. He nodded. “Had you heard about me before we met?”
His brows arched, curious on where I was going with this. “Vaguely. When I met you at Sun Gate, I had no idea. I went to college on the east coast and I don’t really follow gossip. I’m also eight years older than you. Your name might’ve been mentioned, but I never paid attention.” He paused. “Why do you car
e?”
My hands froze in the water. “Huh?”
“Those people, the gossipers who don’t know shit, fuck them. Quit caring.” He dragged me back to him. “You know, you can always open up about your story. It’s not too late.”
I played with his wet hair. “As weird as it sounds, it would put me through more pain to do that. I just want to let it go and move on.”
He nodded. “I understand. If you ever change your mind, I’ll be there for you. I’ll always be here for you.”
“You’re the only one I’ve told everything to.” I fumbled for my words, suddenly going nervous, and looked down at the water.
His face went soft. “I know, and thank you for trusting me. You have no idea how much that means to me.”
“I’m letting you in,” I whispered. “So please, don’t break me.”
He grabbed my hand and kissed it. “You don’t have to worry about that ever.”
CHAPTER TWENTY- SEVEN
ELISE
“You answer that, you die,” I threatened, hearing the doorbell ring. I swiftly circled my arms around his back, nuzzling my face in the heat of his soft chest to stop him from leaving me.
He chuckled, his head bending down to kiss the top of my head. “Love, do you ignore people who ring your doorbell?”
I pulled away to rest my chin on his chest, looking up at him. I stroked my fingers along the ridge of his muscles. “I never really had anyone over, other than Holly, and she’d just barge right in,” I said. “I’d always left to meet …” I slammed my stupid mouth shut when I realized what I was about to reveal. His hooded eyes darkened. “Uh people?” I finished.
The honest answer was men. I’d always left to go meet men. I’d never had them over because that ran the risk of my father barging in and running them off. So I met them, took what I wanted, and then I went back home.
“To meet guys?” He asked.
I threw my head back and nervousness blossomed in my chest. “Look, you know my history,” I rushed out.
Was this when he figured out who I truly was? Was it now just dawning on him that I’d used men for my own personal pleasure because that’s how I’d been used? Did he finally realize how filthy and contaminated I was?
“Whoa, whoa,” he said, stopping me from my impeding freak out. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. You have a past.” His tone went gentle. “And so do I. I’m not mad, nor do I look down on you for the choices you’ve made. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re you, and I wouldn’t want you any other way, you got that? I love every thing about you.”
Pinpricks trickled down my throat. “You have a past? What? A holy saint one?” I asked. He was going to need a baptism after he was done with me.
“Believe me, darling. I’ve regretted plenty of shit that I’ve done. I’m definitely no saint.”
“Like what? What could you have possibly regretted?” Or who?
He shrugged. “Just things. Not important,” he said, sharply, clearly not in the mood for this discussion.
The doorbell rang again.
“Fucking Christ,” Weston muttered at the same time I spewed out a string of other curses. “Looks like whoever it is, they aren’t planning on going away.”
“Whoever it is, if they come in, don’t get mad if I punch them in the face,” I whined. “Or kill them.”
His lips hit my hair before climbing out of bed and giving me the best view ever. My mouth watered watching him collect his clothes in all of his glory. I kept my eyes glued to his naked body when he bent down, putting every muscle of his toned ass on display, then whirled around to give me one of his cock.
“Come back to bed and I promise you won’t regret it,” I told him, licking my lips and tapping the empty space next to me.
He glanced down at his cock and then to me. “Quit talking like that or whoever is on the other end side of that door is going to be graced with my hard on.” I groaned in desperation, and he chuckled. “Just keep on eye fucking me, sweetheart, and I’ll be back to give it to you,” he told me, adding a wink.
I fell back against the bed. “Then hurry up and get them the hell out of here.” He shook his head, still laughing. He dragged a t-shirt over his head and slipped into a pair of basketball shorts. The doorbell fired off again, and I jumped at the ear-splitting sound of his phone going off next to the bed. “Somebody better be dead,” I muttered, picking up a pillow and tossing it on top of the phone.
“I’ll be right back,” he said, ignoring his phone and shutting the bedroom door behind him as he left.
I jumped out of bed and headed towards the bathroom. I grabbed my toothbrush and swiped a line of toothpaste against the stiff bristles. I did a breath check before heading back to bed, but stopped mid-step at the sound of the voices outside the door. There were three of them, but my head focused on one and a heavy numbness infiltrated up my stomach.
No. No. No.
“Go get her,” the burning voice demanded.
My hands trembled as I settled them against the wall, trying to figure out my next move.
“Hell no,” Weston spat, angrily, while trying to keep his voice low. “You’re lucky I’m not kicking your ass right now or calling the cops after what you did to her. After everything you’ve done to her. You don’t deserve to speak to her.”
This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening.
“Just do what he says,” a grating, masculine voice chimed in that I didn’t recognize. “Whatever you have going on with this girl, it’s inappropriate and you know it. The last thing you need is for your reputation and our name to be contaminated because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants. There are plenty of women out there.”
“Bring her out here!” The other insisted again.
“No, I think it’s better she stays in there,” grating voice argued. “Tell her to get her things together and Weston will drop her off at home.”
The floor creaked as footsteps came closer. “Is this where she’s at? Is this your bedroom? You son of a bitch!”
I sprinted away from the door and rifled through my bag. I stepped into a pair of panties hurriedly, got dressed, and stormed out into the living room. I wasn’t going to give him the chance to barge in on me and drag me out of the bedroom. I was going to confront him face to face. I was going to stand my ground and let him know I wasn’t going anywhere.
“You listen here, “ I screeched, erupting through the door.
All of the air punched from my lungs in a painful rush when I caught sight of the three men arguing in front of me. I held my chest, trying to control my breathing while I shut my eyes, praying I was in a dream. I hadn’t seen one of the men in a week. The other in years, but I’d never forget his face. Never.
I stumbled back a few steps, my body beginning to shake uncontrollably, and I finally forced myself to speak.
“No,” I muttered, repeatedly. The high I’d been feeling from this morning had been completely shattered and I was getting shredded with the pieces, cutting me at my bones.
Weston looked at both men and then rushed over to my side. “It’s okay,” he told me softly, grabbing my arm to stabilize me before I fell down onto my knees. “I’ll get your dad out of here. Go back to the bedroom and I’ll be right there.”
He didn’t get it. I wanted both of them out of there.
“It’s you,” I shrieked, pointing a finger to the man standing next to my father. Everyone watched me in shock, nobody saying anything, as they waited for my next move. “Why are you here?” I asked, my other hand locking into a fist.
The man’s face paled and hardened, his jaw ticking while he refused to look at me. “Look at me you goddamned coward!” I shouted, surprised I wasn’t foaming at the mouth with all of my built-up resentment towards him. Everybody else in the room dissipated as I fixed my eyes on him.
He’d aged since the day I’d met him seven years ago. His eyes were still cold and predatory, reminding me of the day he’d come wanderi
ng into my bedroom. He’d put on weight, and thick wrinkles expanded across his forehead and underneath his eyes. But there was no disputing on who he was.
And he was well aware I knew.
“Huh?” Weston asked confused, while the others stayed silent. “What’s going on?”
No one dared to make a move or sputter a word. Even my dad was smart enough to keep his mouth shut while he contemplated his next action. If I answered Weston’s question, it could never be undone. I shook my head in confusion. Why would my dad bring him there? Was this all part of his ploy to get me to come back home? My dad was always one step ahead of me, and I was terrified of what he had up his sleeve for me today.
“Take the girl back to your room so she can put some clothes on,” the man said, his voice practically squeaking with each syllable. His eyes roamed my body, taking in my pajama shorts and tank top. “I have a meeting to attend.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll call you later.”
He didn’t dare look me in the face once. He couldn’t. He had no fucking backbone. A man that abuses a woman is like a jellyfish. He has no spine, he does nothing but sting his prey, inflicting them with pain and then scurries away like a pussy.
The man wasn’t looking at me. He wasn’t looking at my dad. He was looking directly at Weston.
My gaze flickered away from him to Weston. “How do you know him?” I asked.
A cold, malicious laugh bellowed from my dad’s throat as he eyed everyone with amusement. We were his entertainment for the day. He’d been waiting on the perfect moment and this was it. He was going to destroy every block lifting me up and away from him so I’d fall helplessly back into his lap.
“Oh Mickey,” he said, mockingly. “I think we all need to stay right here.” His eyes flew over to Weston. “It seems as though my daughter has been aquatinted with every man in this room at some point in her life.”
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