Badd Kitty

by Jasinda Wilder

  She moaned, a drawn-out whimper of need. “Me too—that’s exactly what I need.”

  “Touch yourself, Kitty. Make it feel as good for you as it will for me.”

  “I am.”

  I flexed my hips, teasing her seam, feeling with my fingers to find her opening. “It won’t be gentle, and I won’t last long.”

  “I can take everything you can give me, Roman. I can handle it.” She reached between her thighs and grasped me, guided me to her entrance and sank against me without warning, taking me inside her. “Go, Roman. Show me.”

  “Ohhh fuck, Kitty. God, you’re perfect.”

  “I’m not perfect.”

  “You are to me.” I pushed against her, the generous mounds of her ass taking my thrust. “You’re perfect. To me, and for me.”

  “I’m perfect for you?” She gasped.

  I slicked out of her, paused, and then thrust in, harder, rocking her forward. “Yes, Kitty. You are.”

  She let me rock her forward, and then on my next thrust she sank back against me, taking my thrust with a slapping of my hips against her ass. “Ohhhh god—oh god oh god oh god, Roman—”

  Each emphasized word was ripped out of her as I thrust in. She clawed one hand into the duvet, letting her upper body sink against the bed while keeping her ass high in the air, her other hand thrust between her thighs, fingers moving against her clit. I cupped her ass as I thrust into her, palming it, caressing it, still trying to hold back just a little longer.

  I couldn’t. When I felt her pussy start to clamp around me with the precursor of her climax, I growled as I gave in to the need to just fuck her to my own orgasm. But it wasn’t fucking—I knew that. It was the act of fucking—hard and rough and primal—but it was fraught with a complex tangle of intensity and emotion I knew the name of but didn’t dare speak out loud, or even admit in my own head. It was so much more.

  I let myself go, then. “Kitty, Kitty, Jesus—you feel so incredible…god, I can’t stop myself.”

  “Don’t stop! Just like that, Roman, please, god, please don’t stop.”

  “Never, I’ll never stop, Kitty.”

  She was grinding into my thrusts, her fingers flying against her clit—her ass slapped against my hips, her core taking my cock in slick, loud slurps, our voices raised in unison, in wordless cries of abandon. I spanked her again as I thrust, and she screamed, ground against me harder, so I spanked her harder, one side and then the other until her ass was pink all over and she was screaming nonstop and I was fucking with everything I was, my voice roaring, my body clenching, clamping, spasming. Heat blasted through me and pressure subsumed me, dizziness washed over me and I lost myself in a white wave as I emptied myself into her.

  “Roman!” Her sweet musical voice crying my name was what brought me back.

  I was still moving, still thrusting against her lovely round ass, now pink from being spanked. I smoothed my hands over it, bent, kissed it here and there and everywhere, soothing the pink as I finally stopped moving. And still I kissed the curves of her ass, and then to her hips, which sank down against the bed as she collapsed onto her belly. I knelt above her, overcome by emotion I couldn’t fight anymore—it had me in its raw, possessive intense grip.

  This woman was mine.

  I kissed her from her ass to the small of her back, up the center of her spine, over her shoulders. I rolled her, gently this time, to her back. Kissed her clavicle. Her forehead. Her breastbone. Her belly. Each hip, where my fingers had left bruises on the pale skin.

  I saw those bruises and winced. “Shit.” I kissed them again, as if I could erase them. “I didn’t mean to grip you that hard. I’m sorry, Kitty.”

  Kitty lifted, curling to look, and then met my eyes with a tender smile that shot straight to my heart. “Don’t be. I bruise easily, for one thing, and I really like how I got them, for another.” She curled her hand around the back of my neck, drawing me back down to her body. “Keep kissing me. That’ll make it all better.”

  So, I kept kissing. Not erotically, this time, but…something else. A drive to show her how I felt in a way I could never encapsulate with words. I knew what it was, and I couldn’t say it. Not even to myself. But I could try to show her—I was desperate to show her, so she would understand it, so she wouldn’t let me go. So we could do this, what we just did—what we were still doing—again and again, and again, until we’d erased every memory of everyone else, every other experience. Until this, with us, was all there was.

  Kissing her beautiful body over every inch of creamy flesh was all I could think of to show her all of this.

  She was ticklish on her sides, giggling as I kissed there.

  And on the backs of her knees, too.

  Her toes weren’t ticklish at all, which I discovered when I kissed them, each one in turn. The bottoms of her feet were, though.

  I ended my kissing exploration of her body with my face framed between the V of her thighs, intending to continue by making her scream all over again.

  She caught me, stopped me. “No, no. I can’t. Not again, not yet.”

  Instead, she pushed me to my back. “My turn.”

  “For what?”

  She shrugged, a movement which left her gorgeous tits swaying in a way that had my cock throbbing in the condom I hadn’t discarded yet. “To do something for you.”

  “You’ve already done everything,” I said.

  She only smiled, and left the bed. She found the bathroom, and I heard water running; she returned with a washcloth, which she lay across my belly. Her eyes soft and warm and full of that same complex tangle of emotion and intensity I still didn’t dare name, she held my limp cock by the base and tugged the condom off of me. She knotted the end of it and tossed it into the nearby waste can. With exquisite tenderness and gentility, she used the warm washcloth to wipe me clean, handling me this way and that, wiping, dabbing, wrapping the warm wet cloth around me, cleaning me until I showed no trace of anything. She tossed the washcloth aside and sat on the bed next to me. Her eyes were on mine, and I know we were both thinking similar thoughts.

  “What we just shared, Roman—” Her voice and eyes were both hesitant, but still open. Determined, intentionally vulnerable. “That was more than just sex.”

  “I know.”

  “A lot more.”

  “I know, Kitty.”

  Her eyes searched me, and I let everything I was feeling show through—the confusion at the intensity of it all, the fear the feelings engendered in me.

  “Do you trust me, Roman?” she asked.

  I nodded without hesitation. “Yes.”

  “If I tell you I think I’m falling in love—what will you do?” She bit her lip, hard, fear in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to, honestly. But I am.”

  I wanted to tense up, to shut down. I wanted to walk out—Love; she’d said it. “We just met. We barely know each other.”

  She just shrugged again. “I know what I need to know. And I knew it was happening before I came onto this boat. I knew doing this with you would end up like this. I felt it happening and I still came.”

  “What if I can’t do that?”

  “Fall in love?” She pierced me with her eyes, those brown orbs now fierce and strong and confident. “Or admit that you already are?”

  I swallowed hard. “The second one.”

  She twisted to sit cross-legged, facing me, resting her hands on my stomach. Her smile was gentle but contained a hint of teasing. “You big sissy. You can’t even say that much?”

  I just shook my head, lying on my back, staring at the woman on the bed with me, amazed at her confidence, at her strength, the way she knew who she was and what she wanted and was willing to risk getting hurt to get it.

  “Well, that’s okay. You will.”

  I smirked. “You think so?”

  She nodded, grinning. “I know so. It won’t take long and I’ll have you wrapped around my little finger.”

  “Don’t count
on it, babe.”

  She traced my abs. “Roman, look—this doesn’t have to be complicated or scary. You just have to keep showing me how you feel. I don’t need you to be able to verbalize it all the time—you’re not like that, and I get it. But if you can show me, that’ll be enough.”

  “How did this happen?” I asked, shaking my head.

  She just laughed. “Love happens, Roman. Even to guys like you.” She smirked. “Look at your cousins. I don’t think any of them expected to find the partners they have.”

  “Yeah, you’re right about that. I talked to Bax a little bit a few days ago.”

  “And? What’d he say?”

  I shook my head. “A lot of stuff. I was kind of hammered when we talked, but the upshot of it was that I think he knew this would happen, and was warning me to not be an asshole if and when it did.” I sighed. “So here it is, happening. And I’m trying not to be an asshole about it.”

  “So you admit you’re falling for me?” Her eyes danced with humor, but the question wasn’t a joke.

  I clenched my fists, arms crossed behind my head, chest rising and falling with deep, fast, panic-laced breaths. I forced my eyes to hers. “I can admit I have feelings I’m sure as fuck not familiar with.”

  “It’s a start.” Her eyes roamed my body, tracing and dancing down from my eyes to my chest to my abs, to my cock. “I have an idea.”

  “Uh-oh,” I laughed. “Why do I have a feeling this is going to get tricky?”

  She ran her palms over my abs, caressing them in a slow exploration that dared lower inch by inch. “It’s a reward system, Roman.”

  “Reward?” I sucked in a breath, eyes narrowing at her as she teased her touch lower. “What do I have to do for the reward, and what is the reward?”

  She bit her lip, her eyes sultry, a smirk curving her mouth even as she gnawed on that lip. “Well, you put your feelings for me and this whole situation into words, and I’ll do things you’ll enjoy.”

  “I enjoy a lot of things, Kitty.”

  She licked her lips. “Um…things to your—your cock. With my hands…and mouth.”

  “I could probably play this game.”

  “I thought you might.” She traced the length of my cock with a fingertip, and it twitched on its way to hardness. “Let’s start with a question.”

  “Okay—shoot.”

  She stared at me, thinking hard. “Would you consider a monogamous, committed, long-term relationship with me?”

  “Can I just give you a yes or no answer, or do I have to elaborate?”

  She shrugged. “The better your answer, the better the reward.”

  Maybe I should explore this a little. “Short answer, then: yes.”

  She slid her fingers under my hardening cock, lifting it away from my body, leaned over me so her breasts brushed against me and draped onto my belly. Then she wrapped her lips around the head, suckling once, a brief pop of her lips around me and a flick of her tongue. And then she backed away, releasing me.

  “And the long answer?” she queried, tracing the lines of my abs with her finger again.

  “The long answer? You specified three elements to a relationship: monogamous, committed, and long-term. The monogamy part isn’t hard for me—I’ve never cheated because I’ve never been in a real relationship, and never been the other guy, either. The one time a girl tried to hook up with me and I found out she had a boyfriend, I left before it could go anywhere. I told her I’d never want to be cheated on, so I won’t be the other guy. I’m nothing if not loyal.”

  I realized this game was dangerous—I was giving her truths I’d barely thought about myself in so many words…and I wasn’t just doing it for the reward, either. Which was the most dangerous part of it all.

  “Committed? I guess I don’t think I have a problem with that—it goes with monogamy, right? It just means I’d be dedicated to making sure the relationship works and is healthy and whatever. So, why would I get into a relationship if I wasn’t committed to it? I’ve gone my whole life without bothering with a relationship—if I’m going to start one, I’m sure as fuck going to commit to it. I finish what I start, Kitty. Goes hand in hand with I said about being loyal.”

  She nodded, her eyes serious on mine. “So what about the long-term part? Is that an issue?”

  “That’s the variable. Just giving you the truth, Kitty.” I let out a breath. “I don’t know what this is or how it happened or why it’s happening, or why to me, but it is, and I can’t deny it. I won’t make any promises about a length of time. I just know I could see myself committing, and being loyal for as long as it works between us.”

  “That’s a really good answer, Roman.” Her eyes twinkled, sparkling with humor and with lust.

  She lifted my cock again—it was rock hard now, and burgeoning to its full length. I kept my fists clenched behind my head, watching in rapture as she took me into her mouth, more of me now. Her fist was wrapped around my base, pumping gently, and her lips slid down past the rim of the head, and then she backed away slowly, extending her tongue to lick the tip as I left her mouth.

  “Holy fuck, Kitty,” I snarled. “Playin’ a dangerous game, honey.”

  She shrugged. “I told you—the better the answer, the better the reward.”

  “So you liked that answer even though I can’t make any promises about it being long-term?”

  She nodded. “Yes, because you were honest. I appreciate honesty over you saying something just to sound good, or what you think I want to hear.”

  “You’d have seen right through me if I’d tried to make up some bullshit about promising you forever.”

  “Exactly. I have a really sensitive BS detector, you should know.” She cupped my balls in one hand, massaging them. “Next question—and this one isn’t a yes or no, so it won’t be quite as simple to answer…when you consider a relationship with me, how do you feel about that?”

  I took a moment to think—which was tricky considering the euphoria of her touch. “Hmmm. That’s complicated. I feel nervous, because I’ve never been anyone’s boyfriend. I’m a selfish dick, Kitty. I feel like I’d be a shitty boyfriend because I’d only ever be thinking about how I can get you to have sex with me. I just don’t know how to not be selfish. I’m not saying I can’t learn or that I won’t try, but that’s my concern. I’m also concerned you’ll try to change me. Emasculate me or some shit. Make me carry your purse or watch those bullshit reality shows or have conversations about our feelings all the time, or try to get me to stop swearing or be less macho or whatever you want to call it. I watched my buddy Peterson get into a relationship with a girl—she was hot, but high-maintenance. Before he broke up with her, she had him dressing like some preppy Ivy League twerp, never let him go out with us, wanted him to quit jumping and get a safer job—which was what prompted him to break up with her.” I met her gaze steadily. “So, if this turns into a thing between us, don’t think that just because we’re dating that I’ll suddenly become someone I’m not. I’ll try to be less of a self-centered asshole, but don’t think you can change me.” I thought some more. “But on the other hand, I also feel like getting into a relationship with you could be really cool. I like who you are as a person, which I honestly can’t say about many people. I like being around you. It’s easy to talk to you, to spend time around you. And again, just being honest, here, I like the idea of trying a long-term relationship with you, because the idea of getting to have sex with you every day makes me feel a little giddy. I’ve never wanted that with anyone, but I do with you.”

  Kitty just stared at me for a moment, considering her response. “Okay, first of all, I don’t want to change you. At least, not in a way that would take away from who you are. Add to, maybe, but not change the fundamental nature of who Roman Badd is as a person. I would want you to learn to think about me, put me first in the way I’d put you first, consider how your actions and decisions will affect me, how your words might make me feel. But I’d never ask you to l
eave a job or abandon your friends or be some guy you’re not. And second, when you talk about getting into a relationship with me for the sex, is that the only reason you’re interested in it? Or in me?”

  “Is this another question, or a follow-up to the first?”

  “A little of both, I guess.”

  I knew this was a make it or break it question. But fortunately, I also knew my answer would make her happy. “No, Kitty. It’s not just about sex. It’s about the idea of a sexual relationship. Developing a complex and deep relationship sexually as we develop a relationship emotionally.” I watched her melt a little, and knew I’d gotten that one right. “It’s also about just getting to have someone around day in and day out that’s not my brothers. I love them, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes a guy just gets lonely, you know? I never realized that until I met you and started feeling it when I wasn’t with you.”

  “Ohhhh, Roman, you really got that one right.”

  “Do I get a really good reward?” I grinned at her, one eyebrow quirked.

  “Oh, do you ever.”

  She wrapped both hands around my cock, sliding them down and then up, slicking one palm over the head and then the other. She did this for a few seconds, enough to make me suck in a deep breath and hold it, letting it out slowly as Kitty bent over me, her eyes on mine as she filled her mouth with me, slowly, her tongue fluttering against my shaft as I entered her warm wet mouth. I couldn’t help a groan, and felt myself already rising—I prided myself on nearly endless restraint, being able to hold off almost at will, indefinitely. But something about Kitty, her touch, her mouth, her body, those wide, brown, innocent, sultry eyes just stripped away all my self-control. Instead of backing away and asking another question, she fucked me with her mouth again, and again, each slow slide of her lips around my cock taking me higher, closer to release. My belly tightened and my cock throbbed and my jaw clenched, and her eyes watched me all the while, through every sensuous glide of her mouth around me.

  “Kitty—god…” I groaned, eyes shutting involuntarily. “Careful.”