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What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG)

Page 61

by CJ Roberts


  His blue eyes burned bright against the darkness and when he unclasped his belt, those chiseled stomach muscles flexed even more.

  “You’re staring, Katelyn.” He removed his pants and finally, he stood, gloriously naked in all his masculine perfection.

  A flare of alarm skated through me. He was big. I knew this. I’d had an up-close encounter with his cock at his office, but seeing him like this, all hard and naked, that erection jutting past his navel, demanding attention—I groaned at the sight.

  He reached forward and his hands dove beneath my dress and snagged my panties. He yanked them down and off. Holding my black thong in his fist, he peered down at me. “Spread those creamy thighs and show me.”

  His words hit me hard. Nervousness didn’t begin to grasp what was flowing through me. Heading into territory where I had no idea what I was doing weighed heavily on my confidence. But if I didn’t get a grip, he’d know I was less than experienced. I didn’t want to face that kind of awkward conversation. I would pretend that I had done this several times—with several men. As though I were a healthy, normal twenty-three-year-old woman who’d had lovers, and heartbreaks, and meaningful connections.

  “Don’t get shy on me now, Katelyn.” He palmed one knee and jerked it open. My dress gathered at my hips and I was completely exposed from the waist down.

  Adam hissed in a breath, and the grip he had on my panties tightened. “Touch yourself. Show me how wet you are.”

  I swallowed hard and trailed my hand to my sex. I dipped my middle finger to my opening. Wow, I was damp.

  “Make use of your hands now, because soon you won’t be able to.”

  I stroked a tentative circle around my clit, then paused.

  “Again,” he bit out.

  I obeyed, but this time, didn’t stop.

  “Good girl.” His gaze was riveted on my movements. “Dip your finger lower, inside.”

  My breathing sped up. Adam’s eyes fixed on my face. When I pressed my fingertip inside, my lips parted on a strangled breath. For Adam to watch me masturbate was too much. I was about to come just from his words and his eyes on me.

  “All the way in, Katelyn,” he grated. He was running a fist up and down his length. I sat there dazed and awestruck. He was gorgeous. His muscles tightened, his biceps flexed as he stroked himself.

  “I want you.” The words left my mouth before I could think better of them.

  “Then do as I say.” He lifted his chin. “Sink your finger all the way inside that sweet pussy of yours.”

  I swallowed hard and did as he said.

  “Good. Are you ready for me?”

  I nodded eagerly.

  “Let me see.”

  I withdrew my finger and showed him. Adam’s grip on his cock stilled.

  “No. You’re not nearly wet enough.”

  He reached forward and gathered my hands in front of me. He took my panties and stretched them around my wrists, binding them together. “Now put them over your head.”

  I did.

  He pulled the top of my dress down and wedged it beneath my full breasts. I usually wore a bra, but the backless dress wouldn’t allow it.

  “Fuck,” Adam hissed.

  I trembled, causing my breasts to rise and fall on a deep inhale. He latched on to my nipple, but levered his body so no other part of him touched me. Connected only by his mouth on my breast, I nearly went insane from the incredible torture. I craved more. Wanted to feel the pressure of his weight, his skin against mine.

  “These taste like little berries in a bowl of cream.” He gently bit my nipple, then swirled his tongue around the tight point before sucking on it again. I had never felt anything more amazing in my life. He paid the same attention to the other and I was about ready to beg.

  But when he pushed himself down my body and began kissing my inner thighs, I pleaded. “Please…”

  “Please what, Katelyn?”

  My hips bucked up. I didn’t know what I needed, only that it was him.

  “Greedy little thing, aren’t you?”

  He sucked my inner thigh. With no other warning or preparation, his tongue delved inside me. I cried out and fisted his hair with my bound hands.

  And I had thought his mouth on my breasts was amazing? This was mind-blowing. He thrust his tongue deep. I arched my hips, seeking more of him.

  “You taste like honey.” He flattened his tongue and covered my clit. Licking, sucking, biting. I went wild. Though I was on the brink of coming, I felt empty. I wanted something to connect us. His fingers, his dick. Anything.

  “You’re going to come like this, Katelyn.” He flicked his tongue over me again. “And then you’ll feel my cock inside you.”

  His words were my undoing. My orgasm flushed over me. Hot and wild. He kept going. Devouring me like I was some kind of treat. I couldn’t hold on to the earth. Couldn’t think of anything but this man and his mouth and the way he made me shudder every time he looked at me.

  My nails dug into his scalp as I rode out the best orgasm of my life. The panties around my wrists held and the lace dug into my skin. I loved it—every wicked feeling of his power over me.

  He drew away and with closed eyes and hectic breathing, I tried to find gravity again. I heard a wrapper being torn. Then the sound of latex unfolding.

  His weight was on me. Hard muscle surrounded by tight, soft skin.

  “Look at me,” he whispered. The mattress dipped by my head. I knew he was holding himself on straightened arms.

  I shook my head.

  “Open. Your. Eyes.” He kicked apart my thighs with his knees so he could settle between them.

  I didn’t want to look at him. Not because of what I’d see, but because of what I’d feel. I’d thought I could handle the repercussions of this, the idea that Adam would leave and this might all be over after one night.

  Now, I wasn’t so sure I could bear it.

  I drew in my strength, determined not to let this man have that much power over me. I had made my decision and wanted to stick with it. I wanted him.

  I slowly opened my eyes. His face was hovering over mine. He hadn’t even come into focus when he plunged inside of me.

  I gasped and my eyes shot wide. A burn cracked though me. He must have split me in half.

  He was still staring down at me when he frowned. “Fuck, you’re tight…you okay?”

  I nodded, forcing the water back behind my eyes. “You’re just big. Give me a minute?”

  He remained still inside me. He bent and kissed my lips, slow, soft. When I arched into him, I felt his cock slide against a tender spot deep inside me. A ping of pleasure raced through me.

  “Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  He withdrew, and pounded again.

  “Adam!” He hit the end of my sex—that spot—again. A shiver started deep in my chest, rose to the surface, and broke over my skin.

  He gripped my hips and tilted them up, sinking even deeper. I threw my bound hands over his head and gripped the back of his neck. I didn’t know what else to do. I just wanted him as close as I could get him, so I locked my legs around his back and rocked against him. He stirred his hips, the crown of his cock sliding against my sensitive flesh inside over and over. He didn’t withdraw. Didn’t thrust. He ground against me, and I against him.

  This was incredible. Adrenaline soared and emotions fired. The need to cry rushed through me, misting my eyes. It was everything I could do to keep the tears at bay. The power of the moment, of Adam inside me, was overwhelming.

  We were connected. I felt safe, like nothing could touch me or hurt me, as long as he was a part of me. Still, I wanted more. I couldn’t get close enough. Couldn’t get him deep enough. He bent his head and sucked my nipple. I came instantly. Fire raced over my skin and my blood turned to magma, slowly burning me from the inside out. My sheath flexed and released around his cock.

  “I feel you.” He kissed my lips hard. “Feel your sweet pussy milking me.”

>   He rolled over to his back and took me with him. With my legs straddling his hips, he sat up.

  He tangled one hand in my hair while his other arm secured me tightly around the top of my ass. Then he thrust upward. With my recent orgasm wetting me further, he slid in and out without discomfort.

  All of his cut abdominal muscles rubbed against my torso. I loved feeling his body tighten with his movements. My bound hands were still locked behind his head. Our bodies slickened with sweat as he continued to piston in and out of me. I looked down at his handsome face. His eyes were blazing. So icy hot they almost looked crystalline. I rested my forehead against his and my whole body relaxed. Another orgasm crept up on me. I gave myself up to it.

  Adam groaned and his arms tightened around me, as if understanding I was giving up. Giving in. To him.

  I came again. The slow blaze of pleasure consumed me like liquid flames drowning my bloodstream. His body tensed and I felt the large cock inside me twitch.

  “Fuck, Katelyn,” he grated. Though he had a condom on, I felt his release. The force of it made his whole body shake around mine.

  We were both breathing hard. My head lolled and rested on his shoulder while my arms hung limply, still bound behind his neck. Exhaustion overwhelmed me. I hadn’t known it could be like this. This kind of intensity was what I’d seen in Adam’s eyes the moment I met him. I wanted to latch on to it—to him—and never let go.

  He had shattered me. Any plan or idea I had about controlling myself, or my emotions, was gone. I could only hope that he’d catch all the pieces he’d broken and put me back together.

  8

  I woke up to the sun piercing though the window, blinding me. My body was sore in places that I didn’t know existed. But it was a good kind of sore.

  My dress was still bunched around my waist, my breasts and thighs exposed. I ran my fingers over my eyes and sat up in bed. My wrists weren’t tied anymore, but there was a light red mark left from where I’d pulled against the panties that bound me.

  A small smile flickered when I thought of last night. I looked around my room and it struck me how clean it was.

  Just as it had been…had always been.

  No clothes were strung around the room. My panties were nowhere to be seen. It was still. Quiet. Cold.

  As if nothing had ever happened and no one had ever been there.

  I threw the blankets back and—

  “Oh, God.” There in the middle of my sheets was a bloodstain. Evidence of my virginity lost. Evidence Adam must have seen. I felt the color drain from my face as embarrassment set in.

  Anxiety climbed up my spine, and my hands began shaking. Terror dug between every vertebra like sharp claws sinking into cold butter. Panic was rising—soon it would flare out of control. I tried to breathe, attempting to keep the icy grip of reality away.

  I rushed to the living room.

  Adam’s coat was gone.

  That breath I was trying to take caught in my throat. I hadn’t expected breakfast in bed or a declaration of feelings, but…

  Nothing. There was nothing.

  Horror snared me. Hating myself and knowing better, I still searched for a note. When there wasn’t one, I checked my phone. No missed calls or messages. My heart beat a heavy boom inside my skull. Pressure rose. I choked on my own inhalations, struggling to get enough air, but it came out as tortured hiccups.

  The cold from my room followed me and settled all the way to my bones. He was gone. I looked down at my soiled dress and felt a barrage of fresh emotions I hadn’t had to deal with in a long time. Panic. Stupidity. Self-loathing.

  I had to get hold of myself and calm down. I walked to the bathroom, turned on the shower and let the steam and heat envelop me. Still, I was freezing. I looked in the mirror and for the first time in several years, that old feeling of disgust crept over me.

  I felt used.

  Useless.

  Empty.

  I shed my wrinkled dress and stepped beneath the water. But no amount of cleansing could wash away my conscience. Sitting down, I clutched my knees to my chest, willing the panic to subside. I had known better than to let Adam Kinkade in. Let him affect my judgment and play with my unstable feelings.

  The worst part was…I already missed him.

  It had been four days, and all I thought about was how Adam’s mouth had felt. My lips were no longer swollen. My aches and pains were gone. Each day that passed, I was losing more of him. He had left a small hickey on my inner thigh, but that, too, was fading. The blood would continue to leave the surface, and as Adam himself had gone, so would any evidence of his presence in or around my body.

  I got through the week. Focusing and prepping for the lectures I taught, I used any excuse to submerge myself in sociology. I graded quizzes and papers. Held extended office hours. Picked up every extra evening shift I could. Waitressing at a small café wasn’t rocket science and did little to keep my mind busy. I was going through the motions, but concentration was difficult.

  “This is horseshit,” Megan said as I popped a Lean Cuisine tray into the microwave. “You are not staying in the house one more night eating that crap. We’re going out.”

  “I really don’t want to.”

  “He’s one man.” She threw her hands up. “One douchey man. He doesn’t get to have this power over you. Remember?”

  That was the problem. I had given it to him. I’d wanted to. For the first time, I had felt like I had something exciting to look forward to. Something beyond.

  Adam was that beyond.

  I had gotten a taste and had hoped he would keep me, but he hadn’t. For a brief time, I’d felt wanted, and it was that feeling I couldn’t battle. Because I didn’t know how.

  The only good part about this whole thing was that I seemed to be able to cope decently well. When my mother hit a depressive state, she didn’t get out of bed or even shower.

  I hurt. Life sucked. Poor Megan was right there with me, upset and looking about ready to cry, but I still functioned. I went to work, school, and bathed every day. That was a decent sign that I wasn’t totally losing it, right?

  “I hate seeing you like this. I hate him for doing this to you.”

  “He didn’t do anything to me.” Nothing I hadn’t allowed. I hadn’t told Megan the whole story, opting instead for a vague recount—Adam and I had sex, he left in the morning, and I haven’t heard from him since.

  Despite losing my virginity and Adam leaving, he’d never lied to me. He hadn’t filled my head with false promises. I’d done that all on my own.

  “He hasn’t called you in days. What kind of man does that?”

  “Lots of them, I’m told.”

  “Not to you!” Megan snapped. I couldn’t ask for a better friend. She was always on the front line with me, battling whatever problem I was having. This time, I had to deal with it on my own.

  I pulled Megan into a hug. She tensed, obviously surprised by my actions. I didn’t care about the contact. Right now, a hug from my best friend was all I needed. She wrapped her arms around me.

  “You’re doing so good, Kate. Don’t let this set you back. Keep reaching out.”

  I nodded, knowing she wasn’t talking about just reaching out for hugs, but reaching out for life. Adam had awakened me. Claimed me. Excited me. Giving that up—everything he made me feel—broke my heart. But I didn’t have a choice.

  Megan gently pulled away. Her eyes were watery, just as mine were. “I know what you need,” she said, smiling. Ducking into her room quickly, she returned with a handful of clothes.

  “Here.” She tossed me a pair of leather pants and an animal print top that was held together by a few strings.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know we were working the corner tonight.”

  “That’s my ‘I’m fucking sexy and I know it’ outfit. Now get that perfect ass of yours into those pants and let’s go.” Megan’s smiled widened and I found it a little contagious.

  “All right. But o
nly because bar food and beer sounds pretty good tonight.”

  Megan wound her hair up and fastened it with a tie. “That’s because it’s the universal medicine for Douche Bag Syndrome, and tonight, we’re gonna get you cured.”

  9

  I was on my fourth drink. The numbness and slow brain function were a godsend. I was tired of thinking. Tired of feeling.

  “Hey, baby.” A blond frat boy with a goatee and popped collar placed his hand on the bar, caging me in. “Why don’t I buy you another and you can tell me if the carpet matches the drapes.”

  I rolled my eyes. Like I hadn’t heard that before. “Run along.” I waved my hand, dismissing him. I didn’t need a lot of words to convey a message. Something I had picked up from Adam.

  Adam…

  I placed my now-empty glass on the bar, pushed past the prick, and walked out front where Megan had said she’d be.

  As soon as I walked into the chilly Chicago night, the fall breeze blew over me, pricking my skin. Thank God the alcohol was warming me from the inside out.

  “Hey, Brian will be here to meet us in a few minutes,” Megan said as she looked down the street.

  “I think I’m going to go home.”

  “What? You sure?”

  I nodded.

  “Okay, just let me call Brian.” Megan pulled her cell out.

  “No, you two stay out and have fun.”

  “There’s no way I’m leaving you, Kate.”

  “Our apartment is right there.” I pointed, because we could literally see it two blocks down the street. “I’m just going to walk back. Tell Brian I said hi.”

  Megan opened her mouth to argue further, but I cut her off. “I love you, Meg. But I just…I need some time to myself. To gather my thoughts. It’s a short walk. I’ll be fine.”

  She looked me over. “I understand needing space,” she sighed. “I just worry about you. I don’t mean to be smothering.”

  “I know.”

  She squeezed my hand. “I may go home with Brian and stay at his place tonight, so don’t wait up.”

 

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