Then he pulled back and looked into my eyes, his own dark with the throbbing lust I could feel pulsing between us. His hands were restless, on my arms, caressing my breasts and sliding down over my stomach, as if he was greedy and wanted it all now. But instead, he looked into my eyes and said, “I don’t want to ask this. I just want to make you come. But are you planning to ditch me? Is that why you’ve agreed to have sex with me?”
He looked haunted by the idea and that shocked me. I’d been so busy worrying about my own prospective pain, I’d forgotten his. And actually, I might ditch him. I didn’t want to lie. “What if I say yes? Will you fuck me anyway?”
He swallowed hard and shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m worried you’ll imprint me, and then I won’t want to have sex with anyone else. But…I can’t not. I have to have some part of you. And dammit, I know you want me.” He kissed me hard again, as if reassuring himself that I did want him, and I was just as greedy as he was, squeezing his shoulders and his arms and running my fingers over his hard chest.
When he pulled back, I said breathlessly, “I’m not planning to ditch you. I just want to try you on, to see if you fit me.”
“Like a shoe?”
“If bigfoot had shoes,” I shot him a smirk.
He smiled back with that look a guy gets when you compliment his junk. “Saucy.”
“Minx,” I agreed.
“So is this ‘one strike and I’m out’? Or do I have ‘right of reply’ if you think I don’t fit?”
I opened my mouth to speak but he cut over me.
“And remember I’ve been honest with you. I haven’t played games. I’ve told you I’m crazy for you and you can pretty much kick me around and I’ll come back.”
I hadn’t acknowledged how vulnerable he’d made himself, and that wasn’t fair. I could never have done that, and I respected his sacrifice enough to nod. “You get kudos for that.”
“But points? Do I get points?” His eyes were narrowed, as if this was a negotiation, and I had to smile.
“Alright. You do. One right of reply.”
“That means you promise you won’t disappear if I do the wrong thing, because I’m a work in progress, liable to fuck up at any point.”
I wanted to say I’m not that touchy but I had a sneaking suspicion that I was. So instead, I said, “I promise I won’t disappear if—”
But that was as far as I got before Finn started kissing me again, pulling the hair band from my damp hair and running his fingers through it.
“God, I love the smell of your shampoo.” He kissed me behind my ear.
I loved everything about him, but I didn’t want to talk any more so I concentrated on unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants.
He stopped kissing me to say, “Did you know you left it in my bathroom when you went?”
“Yuh.” It was hard to concentrate as he kissed his way down my neck to my cleavage, stroking each nipple with a thumb through the fabric of my sundress.
“I kept taking the top off it so I could smell that strawberries and cream, but it turned me on too much. I had to stop.”
“You don’t have to stop now.” I pulled his polo shirt up.
He took it out of my hands and wrenched it over his head, then he reached behind my dress for the zipper and when that was down, he slid the straps over my shoulders and the soft blue fabric pooled at my feet, leaving me naked.
He didn’t say anything then, just stared at me, and I felt like his gaze was touching me where it slid over my breasts and down my belly to the downy triangle between my legs.
When he’d stopped staring at my pussy, he met my gaze again and said, “I have to start there. I’ve dreamed of this for so long.”
I nodded. I’d been giving it some fantasy time myself.
He swept me up into his arms and laid me across the crisp white sheets of his king sized bed. Then he slid my sandals off, opened my legs and sighed.
Sighed!
As if he’d been waiting so long he could scarcely believe it was happening. I felt bad then, like a teaser girl. And I hadn’t meant to be. I’m just so messed up.
He ran a finger lightly through the dark brown curls. “I thought I’d be nervous,” he said, and then shook his head. “But I’m too excited to worry about performance. I just want to taste you.”
“I want you to,” I said. “But can you be naked too?”
“Oh, sure.” He stood back and peeled off his clothes, kicking off shoes until he was as naked as I was, with that glorious great penis wavering around in front of him.
“Gigantor,” I said, and pointed.
He grinned. “Are you just saying that to make me feel good?”
Kinda. But I shook my head. “Voice of experience. That’s a biggun’.”
“It’s all yours,” he said and grinned.
Something unexpected clutched in my throat, a bittersweet sadness that felt like it didn’t belong to me. But I clung onto it anyway.
Then he crawled over me and, while the head of his cock nestled happily against my clit, he kissed me so gently and so sweetly I was scared I might cry. To make matters worse, he pulled back, looked into my eyes and said, “Jillian Brooke Wilson, I’m deeply in love with you.”
“Ditto,” was all I managed before I felt the ache of tears coming and I pulled him back for a kiss, wondering what other secrets Fritha had told him while she’d been telling him my full name.
But that didn’t last long. The kissing got serious and then he surprised me by rolling me over and kissing the back of my neck. That made me shudder all over with delicious sensations which only built as he worked his way down my back, kissing my ass cheeks, which made me squirm and blush. Then he was working his way down one leg with feather-light kisses that tickled and tingled, especially when he reached that sensitive spot behind my knees.
A part of me couldn’t wait for those lips to land on my clit, but most of me wanted to wait, because it was turning me on so much. When he reached my feet and started kissing the soles of them I squirmed some more, then his hot, wet tongue slid between my toes and I felt the heat of it shoot up to my pussy, making it ache.
“Fuck.”
I couldn’t say anything else. I was too busy melting onto the bed. At last, I couldn’t stand the slippery teasing anymore and I rolled onto my back. He got the idea and licked his way up the inside of my leg, opening it as he went. By the time he reached my pussy I was starting to pant.
“This is where you beg me,” he said.
Gladly!
“Please Finn, I’m begging you to make me come.”
“Slow or fast?”
I threw an arm over my eyes. “What? I don’t know.” For some reason I was embarrassed, which was crazy considering the sexual exploration I’d been doing with other men. But it felt so different with Finn—more intense, as if I wasn’t sure whether I’d laugh or cry. And definitely more aroused. When that first tentative nuzzle brushed my pussy I felt it all the way down to my toes and I couldn’t help curling them up.
“Relax,” he whispered against me, and even that made me tremble.
Then I distinctly felt his tongue slide down over my clit and circle around it, and my hand fell backwards off my eyes onto the bed as I sighed. Fuck. He was good. In that moment I couldn’t remember anyone else, so I couldn’t compare. There was just Finn and I and the soft hum of the air-conditioner sliding cool air over my naked body as he licked me, slow and lingering at times, and then more firmly.
And I was lost.
It felt so good I just wanted to live there, with his mouth permanently fixed where it could create those incredible sensations. But the hot, worming pleasure was building and behind closed eyelids, I completely abandoned myself to it, not caring about anything, not even when my panting turned into little moans of pleasure, or my fingers started clutching the sheet above my head.
I wanted to say Don’t stop but the white-noise in my brain got in the way and knew I had to trust him to kno
w what to do. And he did, keeping on with the same gliding movements of his tongue, growing firmer as I pushed my pussy up at him. Then his large hands cupped my ass, holding me still so he could finish me off, and the pressure of those fingers so close to my backdoor tingled up my spine and spread across my breasts, tightening my nipples so much they ached.
It all got too much for me to cope with and I was right on the edge, but he held me there, his tongue big and slow, laving at times before he circled and probed and teased. It was so intense, my world narrowed down to that tiny patch of skin and the mind-blowing sensations he was creating there. I was lost inside my own world of pleasure until his tongue suddenly went from firm to hard and a mind-blowing slap of pleasure exploded inside me. I bucked up against him, and then incredibly, it went on and on as he suckled on my clit. I moaned and shuddered, feeling as though I was hollow and pleasure was being shaken around my insides. It was the most insane feeling I’d ever experienced.
At last I had to gasp, “Stop! Stop it.” And he did. But even then I kept trembling and when he crawled over me to lie at my side and pull me into his arms, I shuddered at the sensation of my thighs being pressed together. I shook my head, pressing my cheek into his chest, not able to cope with whatever was overwhelming me.
He didn’t talk. He just held me, and I just breathed until finally several minutes later I felt human enough to open my eyes. My body was settling down, but I felt strangely vulnerable, as if my skin had been turned inside out and the slightest touch might make me cry. I had to lick my lips several times before I could get my dry mouth working. Even then, I wasn’t sure my brain would work properly.
“Fuck, Finn. Fucking hell.”
It wasn’t my most articulate statement, but it covered what I needed to say.
He wasn’t smug. He just let me snuggle against him again and I lay there listening to his heart beating. I could feel his cock hard against my stomach, but he made no move to do anything about his own pleasure.
Several minutes later I managed to say, “What about you?”
“Plenty of time,” he replied. “I’m enjoying this.”
I might have dozed—I do that sometimes after an orgasm—but I woke with a start when he was moving away and my hands instinctively clutched at him to keep him closer.
He settled back down beside me, and when I could make my mouth work I said, “You’re not going anywhere, mister. I’m not finished with you.”
“Good.” I heard the smile in his voice.
When I could wake myself up properly I raised myself on an elbow to look at him, and everything about him, from his golden muscles and bed hair to his sexy bedroom eyes turned me on. I was lucky in triplicate to have such a gorgeous hunk of man in love with me. But romance wasn’t my forte, so I said, “Forget about a certificate. You can have a PhD for that piece of prac. I’ll be calling you Dr Cunnilingus from now on.”
“Not in front of my staff, okay?”
“Dr C?”
He shook his head smiling. “Sieu probably thinks I’m weird enough already.”
“Then that makes two of us.”
His smile got lopsided. “But…your kind of weird, right?”
He was fishing for a compliment and I…just wasn’t good with them. I was more of a blurter. So I said, “Let’s have sex.”
His smile widened. “Definitely my kind of weird.” He reached over and pulled a condom out of the bedside drawer, slipped it on, then grabbed my waist and slid me across on top of him. “All aboard…”
That made me giggle as I positioned myself over him and grabbed his cock to guide it, getting a surprise when I realized my finger and thumb didn’t meet. Talk about a stalk! I couldn’t help saying, “Can you deflate this a setting or two? It’s too big.”
“Pardon?” He grinned. “Can you say that again? Several times?”
“Your love muscle is over-pumped, mister.” I wriggled it. “That’ll happen if you use steroids. What sort of exercises have you been doing in that gym?”
He took his cock out of my hand and nudged it against my pussy, accidentally brushing my clit and making me twitch in reaction. “You are seriously slippery there, Missy.”
I pointed at him. “Your fault.”
He smirked, and a second later I felt that big cock head pop inside, stretching me despite the relaxation and the aforementioned slipperiness.
I held myself still. “Seriously. It’s bigger than it was.”
“Then that would be your fault. You shouldn’t taste so sexy. Not to mention your scent, or the way you wiggle when you’re excited.”
“Do not.”
He grabbed my hips and eased me down gently until I gasped, “Whoa! That’s docked.” It had to be pressing against my rib cage, it was so far in. But dear God, the sensations. I closed my eyes to capture them all, feeling the tingles and clutches behind my nipples and across my whole lower body. My pussy was stretched into what I imagined was a happy smile.
He laughed at my delight and took his hands off me to put them back over his head, the way I had while he’d been licking me. “Just do what you’re comfortable with, honey.”
I stared at him then, taking in that impressive upper torso all stretched out so beautifully I just wanted to smear myself over it. But I was also thinking about how much I loved it when he called me honey in that slightly rough voice. It was so tender. He was so tender. And yet, he couldn’t have been more masculine. The way he gazed up at me reeked of testosterone held back, just waiting to be unleashed. Yet he was letting me do what I wanted.
That made me feel safe. It also made me feel sexy and a little bit dominant as I raised my haunches, feeling his cock slide down halfway before I lowered myself, working him like a piston. Despite the recent orgasm, or perhaps because of it, I felt tendrils of a new build-up tickling around inside me.
Finn just watched me, his breath growing more ragged, his eyes growing darker and sexier as he stared up at me, then his lips fell open and he shook his head, as if he didn’t want it to stop.
One of his hands came down and his thumb started stroking my clit as I rose and fell. The slippery pressure on my already sensitized flesh brought it all back fast, until I was gasping and panting and pumping and shuddering and crying out like the blaspheming bitch that I am, “Oh, God. Oh, God. Yes! Oh…” before I collapsed onto him in a puddle of limp, orgasmic bliss.
But Finn wasn’t done. He rolled me onto my back and pushed up my knees so he could have at me, and the pressure of him pushing into me so deep made my orgasm go on for so long I thought I’d faint! Then finally, I felt him swell even fuller, and my eyes widened as he slammed into me one last time and mashed his lips against mine, muffling the groan that reverberated in his chest from somewhere deep inside.
I instinctively wrapped my arms around him and slid my legs down his hips, but I could tell he was holding himself up so he wouldn’t crush the breath from me.
“Relax,” I whispered in his ear.
“Okay.” He rolled, pulling me with him until I was lying sprawled across his chest with his cock still inside me. “Now you relax.”
I was feeling particularly limp, but lifted my head to kiss him, and then I looked down into his eyes. They were worried.
“What?”
“Did I hurt you?”
“Since when does an orgasm hurt?” Well, maybe if you’re having your ass whipped at the same time…
“I wasn’t particularly…gentle. At the end.”
I grinned. “Yeah, you had a whole jackhammer thing going…” But I trailed off when I saw his frown deepen, “Teasing.” I kissed him again, more persuasively this time, and he threaded his fingers into my damp hair and cupped my head, tilting it so he could deepen the kiss and leave me in no doubt that there was a whole lot of lust behind that love he kept professing.
When I could pry myself away I said, “I’m okay with it.”
That brought his frown back, and I cursed myself for making him think about other men I
’d fucked.
In the end, he nodded. “I know. I just don’t want you getting the wrong idea about me.” He rolled me onto my back so he could loom over me. “I’m not normally so…fierce about it.”
“Does it matter?”
“To me, it does. I don’t want you thinking I’m rough with you because other men have been.”
I shook my head. “Seriously, this isn’t an issue. As long as no one gets hurt—permanently,” I amended, “…then it’s all good.”
“Is it?” He looked distinctly uncomfortable now.
I rolled out from under him and sat on the side of the bed with my back to him, pissed with him now that he was spoiling such awesome lovemaking. Behind me, I heard him grab tissues and I assumed he was cleaning up the condom situation. Then he sat behind me with my butt cradled between his legs. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and rested his cheek against the back of my head.
“I’m jealous,” he said, and that put a whole different slant on the situation.
“Of what? Who?”
“These men. Jealous that they’ve had such memorable sex with you.”
“And that wasn’t memorable? In what possible reality was that not memorable?”
He was silent, and I realized that comparisons wouldn’t solve the issue. I shouldn’t have told him that stuff in the first place. But there was no taking it back. All I could do was be honest.
“I’m in love with you Finn,” I said softly. “Albeit that I wish I wasn’t. And it makes everything different. It makes sex different.”
“I know that,” he said, and I wished he wasn’t behind me. I wished I could see his face.
I shook my head. “It isn’t about measuring the Richter scale of an orgasm or the kinkiness of the props. It’s about how it makes me feel.”
“And how does it make you feel?” he asked. “With me.”
“Good.” Come on Jill. You can do better than that. “Amazing. Liberated. As if I could howl down the house and you wouldn’t care. Also, as if I wouldn’t care what I did, as if there was nothing I could ever be embarrassed about with you.”
Husband Sit (Husband #1) Page 23
