The New Rule: (The Casual Rule 2)

by AC Netzel

  I smile back. “Now take me already.”

  “Okay. Do you want it fast and hard… or do you want to take our time?”

  “Yes,” I breathe.

  He leans down and laughs against my neck. “Okay, the combo special it is. No floor tonight. Let’s take this party to the bedroom.”

  He rolls off me and stands, holding his hand out to me. I grab his hand and he pulls me up off the floor. Lacing his fingers in mine, he leads me to his bedroom. He stops midway in the hall and in one fluid motion, pins me against the wall holding me in place with his hip. He cups my face with both hands and gazes deeply into my eyes.

  “I love you, Julia Conti,” he says quietly.

  I smile at him. “I love you too. So much.”

  He wraps his arms around me, holding me so tight I could feel his heart beating fast in his chest.

  “God, I missed you,” he whispers into my neck. His words muffled against my skin and damn if that didn't fuel a fire between my legs.

  “Please, Ben. I need you.”

  He takes my hand and we silently stroll to his bedroom. Once we reach the foot of his bed, I turn and face him. He twirls a few strands of my hair around his finger then caresses my cheek. I smile at him and he returns the smile, playfully pushing me down on the bed. I crawl back on my elbows until I reach the pillows.

  He walks to the edge of the bed, gazing at me. Normally after we’ve been apart for a few days, he fucks me like a whore. Not complaining. Not complaining at all. I’ve been looking forward to it all day.

  “I’m not going to fuck you tonight,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head and dropping it on the floor. My gaze focuses directly to his ‘V’ and happy trail… that sexy pathway that leads me straight to the Promised Land.

  “No sex?” I frown, confused. Geez, are we back to this again?

  “Tonight, I’m going to worship you. I’m going to make love to you. I want to show you how much you mean to me. How much I love you.”

  I tilt my head and gaze at him lovingly, my eyes brimming with tears. “That was beautiful.”

  “You are beautiful. Come over here,” he says in a low seductive tone, crooking his index finger.

  I make my way to the edge of the bed on my knees. His pupils are dilated, his sultry gaze traveling up and down my body. I know his eyes have undressed me before he has. He exhales a long breath, running his index finger under his bottom lip. I feel wanted, desired… and wickedly dirty in all the right ways.

  Gathering the fabric from the hem of my dress, he lifts it over my head. He reaches around me, unhooks my pale pink lace bra and slides the straps slowly down my arms until it’s lying on the floor next to his discarded shirt. My face heats up as he inhales a deep breath, admiring me with a salacious gaze so hot it just may set this bed on fire.

  “I still make you blush?” he asks.

  I smile shyly and nod.

  “Good.” He smiles back. “Lie down.”

  I lie down with my head on the pillow. He unzips his jeans. Just the sound of his zipper gives me a quick thrill. It’s the promise of things to come. Ben slips off his jeans and boxer briefs, standing at the edge of the bed—naked, gorgeous, and mine. I inhale deeply and soak him in.

  “You’re still blushing,” he says with a hint of humor in his voice.

  “Hot naked men do that to me,” I murmur.

  “Hot naked men?” he asks, arching a brow.

  “I’ll rephrase that. The hot naked man standing in front of me does that to me.”

  “Much better.” He climbs on the end of the bed, his arousal obvious by the rock hard erection he’s sporting. I lick my lips and stare at it, thick and stiff. I want that inside me so fucking bad.

  "Silk panties. Very nice. I don’t know why you bothered to wear them,” he mutters. Hooking a finger on either side of my panties, he slides them down my legs slowly and drops it to the floor.

  I lie on the bed naked, above the sheets. Ben likes to look at me and I love to let him.

  “Christ, you’re stunning,” he says in wonder. “I swear to God, every time I see you, I fall in love with you all over again.”

  “I’m glad when you fall, I’m where you land.”

  “Always,” he says sincerely. It never ceases to amaze me how he still looks at me like it’s the first time he’s seen me. It’s carnal and raw yet romantic at the same time. Incredible.

  I feel the same way. Every time we’re together, for as often as we’ve done this and for as well as we know each other’s bodies, there’s always a feeling of newness… of discovery. I’ve never felt this way before. I don’t think he has either.

  He lingers at the end of the bed, between my feet, taking hold of one foot and kisses the pad to each toe, lightly nipping at a few. I close my eyes and whimper softly. I know this is just the beginning of something extraordinary.

  The tip of his tongue trails up my calf. He works his way back down with feather-light kisses. Each time his soft lips touch my skin, I quiver. He takes my other foot, running his hand up and down that calf, before kissing each toe.

  He’s seducing me, a slow sensual seduction. And I’ve fallen completely under his spell yet again. I’m dying to touch him, to pull him on top of me and feel him inside me. But he’s in charge tonight. He sits up on his knees and looks at me with sin written all over his face.

  “Fuck,” he says, shaking his head. I know that’s a compliment, he likes what he sees. Slowly, he crawls in-between my legs and kisses my inner thighs. My skin is super-sensitive here and he knows it. He takes his time with light kisses, small nips on my skin, delicately caressing my thighs with his hand.

  He positions himself between my legs, his lips nearly touching my sex, but not quite. I feel his warm breath on my sex and his beard’s stubble rubbing against my skin. The friction is driving me wild. A thrill runs through me in anticipation of what I know is coming. My breathing is getting harsher, ragged.

  He reaches up to the side of me and grabs a pillow, then takes it, lifts me slightly and places the pillow under my pelvis.

  “Look how wet you are,” he murmurs, gazing at my throbbing sex, dripping in its arousal, then he looks up at me. “I’m going to get you wetter.”

  His tongue teases me, tracing the outer edges of my swollen folds, slowly gliding it up and down, up and down. I whimper and squirm. This is torture, the best possible kind of torture.

  “Ohhh,” I moan softly. I wriggle on the bed; my fingers slowly curl into a fist and my nails dig into my palms.

  He spreads my folds open with his fingers and flicks his tongue on my clit. Four days away from Ben and his magical mouth were far too long… I’m already on the brink of letting go.

  I gasp, closing my eyes tight, trying to hold out a little longer. He senses I’m close, he can read my body well, and he changes to long, slow, luscious, flat licks. His tongue strokes my clit and inside walls repeatedly, up and down, big and broad.

  Holy fucking shit. This particular move is always a winner—The Lick of Champions. Ben certainly knows how to use his tongue and he uses it well.

  Very well.

  My body begins to tremble, as the build up becomes too much. I can’t hold back anymore. My muscles tighten; my need for a release is now beyond my control. Attempting to keep still is futile; I’m squirming all over the place.

  He knows I’m there. His tongue concentrates just on my clit, licking it, sucking it, owning it. My pelvis arches up to his mouth as I orgasm, my muscles clenching and relaxing, confused and ecstatic at the same time. My muscles are pulsing, pulsing, pulsing. I’ve lost all self-control, free-falling.

  “Ohhh,” I cry out, panting ragged and hard.

  Ben looks up at me with a satisfied smile, wiping my arousal from the sides of his mouth with the back of his hand. Pulling the pillow out from under me, he throws it to the top of the bed and crawls over my body.

  “What do you think tastes better… that hot dog you were licking? Or what I was just licki
ng?” He swoops in, sliding his tongue into my mouth, kissing me hard and passionately. I moan.

  A cocky smile plays on his lips. That smile is his personal pat on the back. He knows I’m too spent and wrapped up floating back down to earth to give him a coherent answer.

  He lies on his side, nibbling on my earlobe that sends electric currents straight down to my already throbbing sex. Nuzzling my neck, he presses delicate kisses slowly down my neck and shoulder then traces my collarbone with his fingertip, gliding it lazily to my breast. I shutter when his fingertip traces my nipple and skims across my chest to my other nipple.

  My hunger for him is building again as his hands freely roam my body, caressing my warm skin, my breasts, my stomach, my hips… sensually exploring what’s his.

  I try to stay still but my body has a mind of its own, squirming and wriggling to his touch. My nerve endings are oversensitive, frantic with need.

  In effort to cool myself down, I roll over and kneel on the bed. Ben watches me with a slow sexy smile. He knows where this is going.

  I position myself to his side and grab his throbbing erection, curling my fingers around his impressive girth, circling my thumb on his wet tip. I lick my lips and lean down, licking his tip, his erection twitching in my hand. I feel sexy and powerful as I listen to him blow out a long breath.

  My tongue swirls around his tip and I press a few soft kisses on it. Then I go for it, wrapping my moistened lips around him and sucking hard as I glide my mouth up and down. My hand is still wrapped around his shaft, moving up and down in tandem with my mouth. Occasionally, I let go and caress his balls, inciting a low, sexy groan from him.

  That groan fuels my fire. I push my hair to the side, assuring that nothing is blocking his view. I know watching me do this to him drives him wild.

  “You like watching me suck you, don’t you?” My voice is breathy and mischievous.

  He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to, the carnal glint in his eyes answers for him.

  I make long flat licks up and down his shaft, the knowledge that he’s watching and getting off on it, is turning me on. I swirl my tongue around his tip again then take him in, as deep as I can, sucking hard up and down, up and down. My nipples occasionally brush up against his thigh. I don’t know who’s turned on more right now—the sucker or the suckee.

  His hand reaches down, fisting my hair. He wants me to stop. I knew he would, the promise of condom-free sex trumps a blowjob. Today, anyway.

  I stop, sliding back up at the top of the bed and kiss him hard. He rolls on his side and in one swift motion manages to flip me over.

  “This way good for you,” he whispers.

  Any way is good for me.

  I nod, breathing heavy with anticipation.

  He moves behind me, sliding his hand under my waist and pulling me up until I’m on all fours.

  His hands skim down my naked back, caressing the round curve of my ass.

  “When I see you bent over like this, it’s so fucking sexy. All I want to do is lick you.”

  “Then lick me,” I murmur.

  I can’t see him, but I know he’s grinning wickedly. His wet tongue glides up my spine, his body pressed against mine. Fuck, that’s hot. He reaches around my hips, his fingers brushing lightly over my wet swollen folds. He spreads open my folds and caresses my clit with his thumb as he sinks a finger inside me. His erection is rubbing up against my ass. God, he’s so fucking hard.

  “Oh Julia, you’re so ready for me.” His voice is raw, sexy.

  He removes his fingers and grabs hold of my hips. I brace myself for him.

  He teases my entrance with his tip, rubbing it against my swollen clit, building the anticipation even more. My body is silently begging for him not to stop.

  He thrusts hard into me, stretching me, filling me, and forcing the air from my lungs. He stills, holding himself inside me. Holy shit, I knew no condom would feel good, but I had no idea it would be like this. We’re a perfect fit.

  “Christ, you feel so fucking good. Oh Christ,” he murmurs. “Are you ready for me?”

  “Yes,” I breathe.

  He slams into me again, pounding hard, thrusting powerfully inside me over and over. I move my hips, meeting his thrusts. He holds my hips tighter, pulling closer to him as he slams inside me, increasing the pace.

  One of his hands travels up my body, fondling my breast.

  “You are so wet for me. You feel so fucking incredible,” he moans as he tilts his hips slightly.

  “Ahh,” I cry out, my muscles clenching around him, greedily holding on to him.

  “Fuck, Julia. Fuck,” he hisses, his breathing labored, and with one final hard thrust, he explodes violently inside me. He holds my hips in place, still pulsating inside me, my muscles clenching in spasms around him.

  He leans down, kisses my back and exhales a long breath. Slowly, he eases out of me and we lay down on the bed, facing each other.

  Sated.

  He takes my hand and kisses the back of it. Then leans to me and sweetly kisses my lips.

  “I need a cigarette,” I say.

  “You don’t smoke.”

  “After that, I may need to start.”

  He chuckles. “You are amazing,” he says. “Just amazing.”

  “You’re not so bad yourself. So, no condom… works for you?”

  “We’re not getting out of this bed for the rest of the year.”

  I laugh. “So I guess that’s a yes?”

  “Sex with you is always incredible, but that was intense.”

  “I thought so too.” I smile. “You know, you said you were going to worship and make love to me.”

  “Yes.”

  “I think you may have accidentally fucked me too.” I laugh.

  He nods and laughs with me. “You’re right. Got a little carried away in the moment.”

  “I like when you get carried away.”

  “You do that to me.”

  “There are worse things to get blamed for.”

  He smiles, reaching his finger across and tracing my lips. “I love you.”

  I smile back. “I love you too.”

  “I wasn’t kidding when I said I’m not letting you out of this bed.”

  “Good. I have no intention of leaving it.”

  “Come over here. I want to hold you.”

  I scoot over, turning around so my back is to his front.

  “Get some rest, you’re going to need it,” he whispers in my ear.

  “Before we rest, do you think we can eat the red velvet cake I brought first?”

  He laughs. “Sure. I’ll get it.”

  Chapter 3

  “Come on Al, it’s almost eight. The guys will be arriving soon,” I yell out.

  Allie joins me in the kitchen. “Relax. I’m here. What the hell are you so anxious about?”

  “It’s our first couples’ dinner. I want everything perfect.”

  “It’s dinner with friends. It’s not a couples’ dinner,” Allie insists.

  “Marcello and Peter. Ben and I. You and Vince. Couples.”

  “Vince and I are not a couple. We’re two individuals who occasionally enjoy giving orgasms to each other.”

  “Occasionally? You practically live in each other’s apartments.”

  She stares at me blankly. “They’re orgasms, Jules. Why wouldn’t I want as many of those as I can get?”

  “You’re delusional. You like him more than you’re willing to admit.”

  She flushes. “Well, I like the things he does to me. I’ll give you that.”

  “First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes,” I sing.

  She cuts me off and scowls. “If you say that next word, I will murder you, chop you up into little pieces, and serve you as pâté on crackers to our guests tonight.”

  I laugh. “Okay, okay. I’ll leave you alone. Can you grab your grandmother’s silver platter? It’s in the cabinet above you. I’m going to serve the chicken, vegetables, and roa
sted potatoes on it.”

  “Why the fancy platter?”

  “It’s our first real dinner party. I want it to look elegant and sophisticated.”

  “I don’t know how elegant you’re going to get eating off a folding table in the middle of our living room.”

  “Oh, that reminds me. When Mrs. Harrison lent you her folding table and chairs, did she give you a tablecloth?”

  “Nope.”

  “Did you ask for one?”

  “Nope.”

  “What are we supposed to use?”

  “How the hell should I know? Use a sheet.” She shrugs.

  “Crap, Allie. I only gave you one assignment.”

  “You didn’t ask for a tablecloth. You asked for a table. You got a table. Loosen up, Jules. Nobody is going to care.”

  “I just want everything perfect.”

  “Give them enough wine and everything will be perfect.” She stretches her arm up, straining to reach the silver platter from the cabinet above her. “Damn, I think I pulled something in my shoulder.”

  “Oh, sorry. Are you okay?”

  “I’ll live,” she says, rubbing her shoulder. “I’ll get a sheet or something.”

  Allie leaves the kitchen while I open the oven and check on dinner. I spent hours and hours on the internet researching the perfect recipe. After a week of reading hundreds of ways to roast a chicken, I ended up calling my mother for instructions.

  Luckily, she said it was okay to cheat on the gravy. I bought a jar of ready-made gravy. I’ll spoon some of the chicken drippings into it, so the fat floats on top and voila… it’s homemade-ish.

  Grabbing the wooden salad bowl, I open a pre-cut bag of salad mix and dump it in. The one thing I have a massive amount of confidence in is my balsamic vinaigrette. My grandmother taught me the secret: salt. Lots and lots of salt. Blood pressure soaring amounts of it. I whip together my vinaigrette in a small bowl and put it to the side.

  Allie walks back in with a cotton sheet full of cartoon dinosaurs in her hand.

  “Dinosaurs? That’s what comes to mind when you think sophisticated dinner party?”

  “It’s all I could find that’s clean. And it’s the only twin size sheet we own. Anything bigger would look ridiculous.”