Too Hard to Resist

by Robin Bielman

  I kiss the top of her head. “Believe it, baby.” I get to my feet.

  “Where are we going?” she asks.

  “My bedroom. You’re due one more orgasm.”

  She raises her head. “What?”

  “It’s time for number three, only this time I’m coming with you.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Madison

  Elliot slowly sets me down inside his bedroom, my back to his front. The hardwood floor is cool underneath my feet, offering a welcome reprieve for my warm body. The left side of his bed is untouched. The right side is rumpled, and I know where I’ll be sleeping this weekend.

  I feel my cheeks flame. I’m sleeping with Elliot! Having sex with Elliot. Experiencing multiple orgasms with Elliot.

  This is the biggest mistake of my life, but right now I don’t care.

  His hands gently untie the bun on top of my head. My hair spills down my bare back, his fingers combing through the strands before sweeping them to the side to expose my neck and shoulder.

  I roll my lips tightly together in anticipation of his next move. Electricity hums between us. His breath is hot on my prickling skin. I’ve never felt more alive.

  He places a soft kiss on my shoulder and a current of unforgettable pleasure coasts down my spine. “You have the prettiest skin,” he whispers. His warm, wet lips trace every inch of my shoulder. He kisses me there for a long time before moving to the curve of my neck.

  It’s sweet, wonderful torture. That he’s taking so much time with me and my body is so entirely new for me, I’m about to turn into a puddle at his feet. Sensing my jellylike state, he puts one hand on my waist and the other on my upper arm to steady me.

  His full lips are like velvet as they smooth over my sensitive flesh.

  “And you smell unbelievably good,” he murmurs. The tip of his tongue joins his lips in the simple, but amazing pressure to my neck. My head tilts to the side without thought.

  My breasts feel full and my nipples are hard. Once again my body begins to strain for more, to go higher and higher. I can’t believe it’s possible to have these sensations again so quickly.

  Elliot’s hand slides over my hip down to the curve where my butt meets my thigh. He palms my bottom, squeezes, then gives a little push as he whispers in my ear, “Monte sur le lit. Get on the bed.”

  God, his voice. I do as I’m instructed, adding a little extra wiggle in my hips. I told him I couldn’t believe I was naked in his arms, but not because I’m shy about my body. I’m comfortable naked, and am dying to find out if Elliot is, too. I toss him a look over my shoulder. His eyes jump from my bottom to my face. He licks his bottom lip.

  “I’m going to leave bite marks on that ass,” he growls.

  I quickly turn my head back to hide my smile. That sounds…thrilling. My spine quivers thinking about it. I climb onto the bed, turn, and kneel in the center. He’s still standing by the door, watching me. His eyes travel all over my body, while mine zero in on the huge outline of his hard cock underneath his shorts. I want to make him even harder. Do something sexy and unexpected. So for the first time ever, I touch myself in front of another person.

  “Fuck,” he says huskily.

  I tweak the nipple on my left breast while my right hand slides down my stomach to rub between my legs. My fingers slide easily through my wet folds.

  Elliot’s expression goes taut, like he’s waging a battle with himself. Then he reaches behind his neck and yanks his shirt over his head, tosses it aside. The move is hot, his body a thing of beauty. I swallow hard at the smooth muscle outlining his chest, abs, and arms. The clearly defined indentations at his hips that disappear into his low-riding shorts halt my movements.

  “Are you for real?” I ask.

  He smiles. “One hundred percent pure grade Sax.” His palm glides down his torso. “Want to see the rest?”

  I nod vigorously.

  “Don’t stop touching yourself.” He waits until my hands are in motion again before pulling down his shorts and boxer briefs in one fluid move.

  Thank goodness I’m already on my knees. I’ve seen one guy naked in person. Harper and Teague had me watch porn with them one night. An emergency “your ex is a dick and a small dick at that” tequila and cupcake night with pornographic visuals, so I have viewed more than one penis.

  But this one is perfect. It’s large, thick, and seeing it inside Elliot’s hand, his long fingers wrapped around the base, then stroking up to the darker tip where it’s shining, puts me in immediate need for him all over again.

  He stands there, gliding his hand up and down his cock. I kneel back, massaging both my breasts now, because I want him to quell the ache at my core. Need him buried inside me more than I need my next breath.

  “Elliot.” My voice is ragged. Pleading.

  “I’m going to fuck you now. Is that okay?” He stalks toward me, blue eyes piercing and powerful.

  I love that he hasn’t taken anything for granted with me, but he can stop. I’m his for the taking. I trust him more than I’ve ever trusted anyone. My heart flips over at the thought. “Yes, please.”

  He stops at the foot of the bed. I reach out to put my palm on his chest. His heart is beating as fast as mine.

  “You are disarmingly beautiful, Pink Cheeks.” He covers my hand with his, pressing our linked fingers against his skin.

  I feel myself flush further. Probably all the way down to my toes. “No one has ever made me blush as much as you do.”

  “Then he was doing things wrong.”

  I nod. I think everything I’ve done up until today has been all wrong.

  “One more question, and you can absolutely say no. I want to feel inside you. Skin to skin. I’m clean and I’ve never had sex without a condom before, but I’ve got this intense need to make what we’re about to do different. So, if you’re already using protection and are okay with what I’m proposing…”

  My breath hitches.

  “Shit. I’m an idiot for even asking. Forget I—”

  “No, I’d like that.” I cup his cheek with my free hand. “I’m on the pill and clean, too.” I had myself tested a couple of times after I left Henry and more truths were revealed than I realized. He and I didn’t use condoms. I’ve been on the pill since I was eighteen and only with him. I shudder at my stupidity. Thankfully he swore to me he wore condoms with everyone else. Still, I had to make sure I was healthy.

  Elliot has me on my back two seconds later. I giggle.

  He quiets me by crashing his mouth to mine. Every kiss from him is better than the last. He explores with his lips, tongue, and teeth, giving more than he’s taking, lighting me up inside with nothing more than his passion for kissing me.

  I run my nails over his scalp, through the soft black strands of his hair, and kiss him back. The scruff on his chin feels better than I imagined.

  Elbows braced on the sides of my head, he lowers his hips over mine and glides his cock against my folds. Holy foot long, this is really happening. I stiffen, excited for him to fill me, but nervous, too. Will he fit without hurting me?

  He lifts his head, kisses the shell of my ear. “Don’t worry,” he whispers. “We’ll go slow.” Then he kisses up and down my body until I’m writhing and wet and going out of my mind with eagerness.

  What happens next is nothing short of amazing. He straddles me, his cock fully extended and glistening, and lifts my hand to wrap around his shaft. He hisses when I grip him. “Guide my cock inside your hot, wet pussy,” he says. I love when he talks dirty.

  Everything inside me tightens as I bring the tip of him to my opening.

  “Breathe,” he says, and as I do, he slides inside me, stretches me, fills me. I close my eyes at how good it feels.

  Then he’s moving, bracing himself on his elbows again. “Straighten and press your legs together,” he says. As I do so, he lays his legs outside mine and buries his cock deeper. “Fuck, you feel better than I imagined.” He rolls his hips slowly, watches me
. “You good?”

  “Uh-huh,” is all I can muster in response. I’m some place else, weightless, every nerve in my body lit up like the brightest star in the universe.

  Our eyes stay glued as he rocks against me. His strokes are slow, a caress rather than a full-on thrust. He brushes a strand of hair off my face, then plants a kiss on my jaw.

  “You’re gorgeous, Mads. So fucking beautiful like this. I hope you know I plan to thoroughly take advantage of you this weekend.”

  I run my fingers over his shoulders and down his arms, feeling his muscles as he keeps me pinned beneath him. “Then we’re even, because there are things I want to do to you, too.”

  He lazily strokes his hips against mine. I stroke back. “Yeah? What kinds of things?”

  “Naked things,” I mumble. He knows exactly what he’s doing here, circling and pressing his hips to hit my clit just right.

  “Excellent,” he says in a raspy voice. All of a sudden, he’s deeper, filling me to the extreme.

  I move my hands to his lower back to help keep him right there. And he stops.

  “What are you doing?” I hiss out.

  “Patience, gorgeous.” He starts up again. Moves inside me slowly, like we have all day.

  Then stops.

  Starts.

  It’s maddening in the best possible way. I’m so turned on I’m about to come no matter what. “Elliot,” I whisper, “please.”

  His lips claim mine and we’re kissing. The kiss is deep, intense, s-l-o-w. Our mouths move in time with our lower bodies. It’s amazing, special, pulls on every fiber inside me, and I’m falling over the edge of bliss. Elliot pulls his mouth away, rolls his hips once, twice, and the two of us let go at the same time. I scream his name. He grunts, groans, and whispers mine.

  He stays seated inside me until we’re both completely still, then he rolls over so he’s flat on his back. Despite our slow lovemaking, we’re both out of breath. “That was amazing,” he says to the ceiling.

  “It was.” I stare up, too.

  “On a scale of one to ten, ten being best”—he rolls to his side and props his head in his hand to look at me—“would you say an eleven?” He traces a finger around my belly button.

  I turn my head. “No.”

  “No?” He is ridiculously cute with his eyebrows scrunched up.

  I smile at him. “I’d say a twelve.”

  That earns me a blinding grin in return. “Come on.” He scoots off the bed and gives me a hand.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To get cleaned up in the shower.”

  “Together?”

  He jerks to a stop. His eyes search mine for a moment before he says, “This weekend we do everything together.”

  …

  “No!” I almost choke on the pizza Elliot ordered in for our “dinner date.” We’re sitting on the rug in front of the couch. I’m wearing one of his shirts since he refused to let me go home to get any clothes (stating clothing was not required this weekend), and he’s got on navy sleep pants. He decorated the coffee table with a cloth and candles, and we’re drinking sparkling apple cider from wineglasses. It’s the most romantic date I’ve ever had.

  “Yep. No one noticed I’d wandered off to use the bathroom when my dad went to pay the check at the register, and then they walked out the door, got back in the car, and left the diner without me,” Elliot continues.

  “I can’t believe your parents didn’t notice you were missing.”

  He shrugs. “I handled it well. When I got back to the register and realized I was all alone, I climbed up onto a barstool at the counter and ordered a piece of apple pie.”

  “You didn’t!”

  “I did.”

  “You didn’t cry or tell someone what happened? You were six. Weren’t you scared?” I wipe the corner of my mouth with a napkin. “I would have freaked out.”

  “I had five dollars in my pocket, so I wasn’t too worried.” He takes a casual bite of his mushroom-and-olive slice.

  “What?” I ask, confused.

  “I figured that would get me two slices of pie and by the time I finished the second one, someone would notice I was alone or my parents would be back.” He says this with ease, but sitting next to the flickering candlelight, I catch a hint of pain on his handsome face.

  I lean over and kiss his pec. “Which was it?”

  “The waitress was on to me the second I sat down.”

  “Of course she was. I bet you were the cutest six-year-old. Kind of hard to miss.”

  “True.” He flashes his white teeth. “But she let me think I was cool and grown-up until my mom came flying back into the diner looking for me.”

  “How long were you there?”

  “I don’t remember. Honestly, it was probably only a few minutes, but it seemed like a really long time to me.”

  “I bet.”

  “I did get a new baseball glove out of it.”

  “Like you ever wanted for anything anyway,” I tease.

  Once again a flash of discomfort mars his expression, and I feel terrible for saying that. I’ve met his family and he’s said things here and there to imply he’s always felt disconnected from his parents and siblings.

  I crawl onto his lap, drape my arms around his neck. “Whatever upbringing you had, you turned into an amazing man.”

  He palms my bottom. I’m not wearing any underwear, but as soon as I find where Elliot hid them, I’ll be slipping them back on. Maybe. Quick, easy access has its benefits. Like right now. I wiggle and feel him grow underneath his thin pajama pants.

  When I’m close to him like this, our noses almost touching, I can’t help but fall deeper into the fire held in his vivid blue eyes. “You’re smart, ambitious, super sexy.”

  “Go on,” he says, inching his fingers toward my cleft.

  Just like that, my pulse speeds up. I gently grind my hips against his. “Kind, giving, good with your hands.”

  “How good?” He dips his fingers farther, reaching between our bodies. I grip his shoulders and lift up to give him better access.

  “I’ll let you know in a minute.”

  “A minute?” Not a chance, Pink Cheeks, his tone says. He likes to prolong my pleasure.

  “Okay, five.” I’m kind of over the slow and steady and am ready for fast and furious.

  He easily slips a finger inside me. No surprise there. I’m turned on just looking at him. It’s a crazy sensation I both love and hate. What happens on Monday when we’re back at the office? I can’t get turned on when I see him. Don’t think about that. Focus on right now.

  “I can work with that,” he says, working me.

  “I think I should run the show this time.” We’re staring so hard at each other neither one of us has blinked.

  His fingers stop moving. He moves his hands back to my bottom. “Go for it.”

  “You might want to hang on for this.”

  He laughs. It’s a really great sound. “Don’t worry about me, beautiful.”

  I push down his pants until his length springs free. Then without preamble I guide his tip to my entrance and sink down. I’m so ready he slides all the way in in one fluid motion, filling me so fully my bones tingle.

  “God, Mads. You’re so tight and wet. It feels so good.” He catches his breath. His fingers dig into my waist, not too hard, but not soft, either. I like it.

  I release my own pent-up breath. “I know. And you’re so big and warm.” The pressure he creates inside my body is exquisite. I want to freeze time and feel this for hours. I put my hands back on his muscled shoulders and shift, seeking the ideal position. He lets me control the tempo, so I start slow, because experiencing every inch of him is high on my list of pleasures. Unhurried drag up. Steady drag down. Then I speed up. He chuckles softly. I never knew sex could be so much fun, too. That two people could connect mind, body, and funny bone. For as serious as Elliot is at work, away from the office he’s irresistibly playful.

  He also
likes me naked. He grabs the hem of my shirt and pulls it up and off to toss over the couch. His hands are on my breasts a second later. He knows my nipples are my trigger and he cups, kneads, tweaks. I grind, press, and push, angling to hit just the right spot between my thighs.

  “Imagine there’s a knock at the door,” he says.

  I swallow thickly.

  “The pizza guy came back for something.”

  I start to pant, clench around Elliot’s cock.

  “When no one answers the door, he steps to the window to peek inside.”

  Everything inside me tightens. I grow wetter. Elliot’s eyes are locked on mine. I dart a quick glance to the window. Oh my God. How did I not notice the curtains are open?

  “He presses his nose to the window and sees us. He sees you riding my cock.”

  Crazy good vibrations, hot, intense, uncontrollable, steal over me. My body temperature rises.

  “He sees your tits in my hands, the sexy slope of your back, and his dick gets hard watching us.”

  I thrust my chest out, lift my chin, and quicken my pace.

  Elliot moves one hand to my waist and the other to my clit, leaving my boobs exposed.

  “When he gets to see your firm, round tits and pretty pink nipples, he grips his cock and starts to jerk off.”

  My entire body shakes, and the pulses where Elliot and I are joined together intensify. We talked earlier about what thoughts turned us on, and I told him while I didn’t want it to ever really happen, the idea of getting caught—of having someone watch me—got me majorly aroused.

  “His eyes are glued to you, Madison, and your naked body, as we fuck in the candlelight. As I ram my cock into your pussy and you milk me until I’m dry.”

  Elliot’s words and the visual are too much and I cry out as I come. He pumps into me, strokes my clit with the pad of his thumb, and even knowing no one is at the window, the fact that there could be someone there peeking in, has me rolling right into a second orgasm. Elliot bucks, surges into me one more time, and groans through his own release.