Sin With Me (Bad Habit)

by J. T. Geissinger

  Into my hair he murmurs, “Look on the bright side. You’ll finally find out if you snore.”

  “I don’t snore,” I whisper, smiling.

  He snuggles into me, burrowing his face deeper into my hair, and makes a low, masculine sound in his throat. He finds my hand and threads his fingers through mine. Then he sighs, deeply and quietly, his body warm and heavy, relaxing against me.

  Just as I’m about to drift off into sleep, Brody whispers, “Thank you.”

  “For what?” I ask groggily.

  A gentle kiss on the back of my neck, the barest brush of his lips against my skin. “I wasn’t talking to you, baby. Go to sleep.”

  And so, lulled by the deep, even sound of his breathing, I do.

  Waking up the next morning feels like being reborn.

  It’s early. So early the birds aren’t even up yet. The barest wash of color is lifting the sky beyond the windows from deep sapphire to pearl gray. I inhale, smelling the warm, pleasant musk of sleepy male.

  Brody is lying on his back beside me, his arm under my neck. I’m draped over him like another blanket, one leg thrown over his body, my arm across his chest.

  His bare, beautiful chest.

  In sleep he’s somehow even more gorgeous, all tousled hair and golden skin, his square jaw shadowed with stubble. When I touch my fingertip to the cursive letters tattooed across his chest he shifts drowsily, mumbles something unintelligible, and then with a soft exhalation falls still.

  Beneath his boxer briefs, he’s hard.

  Looking at his erection, I bite my lip. It’s just sitting there like a dare, bold and beautiful, taunting me.

  I have to touch it. I literally cannot not touch it, my fingers are already creeping downward over his chest of their own will.

  Using the barest possible pressure, I trace the outline of the head.

  Brody makes a soft sound, but doesn’t stir. His breathing doesn’t change.

  Is this wrong? I think, stroking the head of his cock through the cotton. When his cock reacts with a welcoming jerk against my fingers I decide his penis has a mind of its own, rights of its own, and if Brody is too busy sleeping, Mr. Throbby and I are going to take this opportunity to become better acquainted.

  I lightly wrap my hand around his erection. Eager to become friends, it pulses against my palm. Sleeping Beauty doesn’t move. Emboldened, I slowly stroke my hand down the length of him, all the way to the base, careful not to make any sudden moves.

  His cock is thick, and as hard as steel. He could knock over a building with it. At least a multiunit apartment complex anyway. And it’s frisky—no sooner have I gently moved my hand to cup his balls than I get another pulse from it, this one stronger.

  You want my mouth, don’t you, big boy?

  Slowly, with minute movements of my body, I lift my leg from over Brody’s. Then I inch down the mattress, holding my breath and keeping an eye on Brody’s face.

  He’s still blissfully in la-la land, so I keep heading south.

  When I’m eye-to-eye with his crotch, I lean over and softly kiss his cock through the cotton. Straining against the fabric, the vein on the underside throbs. I kiss the head, the shaft, nuzzling my nose along the length of him.

  “Mmm.”

  Brody turns his head on the pillow. I freeze.

  After a moment when nothing happens, I slip my fingers through the opening in the front of his briefs.

  Warm skin, the softest anywhere on his body. With tiny movements and light pressure, I stroke my fingers over it.

  Brody shifts his legs, but doesn’t wake.

  His cock insistently pulses against my fingers, begging for my tongue.

  So I have to oblige. It’s the polite thing to do.

  I lean over again, spread the opening in his briefs farther apart, and close my lips over the throbbing vein just beneath the head of his cock.

  Brody makes a sound, something like a moan or a plea. Whatever it is, it makes my heart take off at a gallop.

  I want to hear that sound again.

  I slip the engorged head into my mouth. Reflexively Brody’s hips move, pushing him deeper.

  The moan I’m rewarded with this time is lower in register, longer, and so fucking sexy my nipples harden. I’m getting wet between my legs.

  I slide his cock farther into my mouth, sucking on the shaft. He’s hot against my tongue. He tastes like the ocean.

  Then a hand fists into my hair.

  “Grace.”

  Brody’s voice is thick with sleep and desire. I glance up. He’s staring down at me, his head lifted off the pillow, a flush creeping up his neck.

  Slowly and deliberately, I swirl my tongue around the head of his cock.

  His eyes flare. His lips part, but no sound comes out. His hand tightens in my hair.

  I close my fingers around the thickness of his shaft at the base, and then, looking up at him, take his cock all the way down my throat.

  “Oh fuck,” he whispers, shuddering.

  Good morning, Mr. Scott.

  When I slide my mouth up toward the head again, he fists his other hand in my hair and makes a noise like a growl.

  It’s a fine morning, isn’t it?

  Sucking on the head of his cock, I stroke my hand up and down the shaft. Wet from my mouth, hard and pulsing, it slips through my fingers.

  He sucks in a sharp breath. All the muscles in his abdomen stand out. He says my name again, this time followed by a husky command.

  “Faster.”

  I’m nothing if not accommodating, so as I continue to suck and lick the head of his cock, I stroke my hand faster up and down, squeezing, my fingers curled tight.

  Brody starts to fuck my mouth, flexing his pelvis in time with my strokes, watching me. Watching my mouth. The movements of my tongue.

  “Yes, baby,” he whispers, straining against my lips. “Exactly like that. That’s so fucking good. Your mouth feels amazing.”

  When I moan around his cock because I’m so turned on, he demands harshly, “Let me see that beautiful pussy.”

  Using my free hand, I shove the covers off me, exposing my naked breasts and body. He hisses in a breath.

  “Show me how wet you are, baby. Touch yourself. Let me taste you.”

  I’ve officially died and gone to heaven.

  I slip my fingers between my legs. I’m soaked. My clit is swollen, so exquisitely sensitive I whine when my fingers brush over it.

  “Give it to me,” Brody demands.

  When I lift my hand from between my legs, Brody grabs my wrist, sits up a few inches, and hungrily sucks my wet fingers into his mouth.

  We both moan.

  He licks my fingers, greedy for my taste, which is so erotic I moan again. When he’s finished licking my fingers clean, he puts his hand around my throat.

  His other hand still fisted in my hair, rhythmically fucking my mouth, he lightly squeezes my neck.

  “So beautiful,” he whispers when I shiver, aroused out of my mind by that small gesture of dominance. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. Look at you. Look how perfect you are.” His expression is fierce, concentrated, hard. His hand tightens around my throat.

  I slip my fingers back between my legs and frantically stroke my throbbing clit.

  “Don’t you dare come yet,” he says softly. “If you come before me I’ll punish you.”

  Oh god yes please yes punish me I’m very bad you should punish me NOW.

  Brody’s husky chuckle sends a thrill through my body. “You want that, don’t you?”

  I close my eyes and moan around his cock, building fast toward climax.

  His voice gets gruffer. Lower. Darker. “You want me to restrain you, Grace? You want me to tie you up?”

  My nipples are so hard, so sensitive. My pulse is a wild, thundering roar in my ears.

  In one sudden move, Brody sits up, flips me onto my back, and straddles my chest. Hard and wet from my mouth, his cock rests between my breasts. He wraps his hands
around my wrists and stares down at me with a look of lust so unleashed it steals my breath.

  “Answer me.”

  I whisper, “Yes.”

  “Stay here.”

  I swallow, nod, and stay perfectly still as he crawls off me and goes into the other room.

  Not daring to even lift my head from the pillow, I lie there and breathe through the waves of heat washing over me. It seems as if I can feel every nerve in my body, all my muscles and bones, the air being sucked from my lungs to feed all the tiny capillaries.

  Brody returns. He stands in the doorway looking at me. He’s removed his briefs. A length of rope dangles from one hand.

  When he hears my soft moan, he smiles.

  Dragging the rope through his hands, he walks slowly to the edge of the bed, never taking his gaze from mine. “What are we gonna do with you?” he muses. “Waking me up like that when you knew you were supposed to behave?”

  My chest rises and falls in quick, uneven bursts. He strolls toward the bed, watching my face, gauging my reaction to his approach. Then he stops beside the bed, his erection jutting out, straining toward me.

  “Up and on your knees, facing me.”

  In one whip-crack motion, I do exactly as he commands and kneel on the mattress in front of him.

  “So eager,” he whispers, brushing my hair over my shoulder. His hand lingers a moment, steadying me. The pause is excruciating. My heartbeat is like a hummingbird’s.

  Brody leans down and kisses my neck. “Are you gonna be quiet?”

  I nod vigorously.

  He kisses the wildly fluttering pulse at the base of my throat. “Good. Because your little noises will make me come too fast.” He reaches around me, bends my arms so they’re crossed over my back at my waist, and winds the rope around my wrists. He gives the rope a little tug to tighten the knot, and I gasp.

  He tilts his head and looks at me in warning from the corner of his eye.

  Biting my lip, I look down.

  Moving agonizingly slowly, he winds the rope back around my torso, just under my breasts, looping it around his hands. It’s a soft rope, the color of straw, about a quarter inch thick, perfectly suited to the task. He passes it around my body and crisscrosses it between my breasts, so they’re lifted and separated, blatantly on display. Then he ties another knot just above my belly button, and I’m bound.

  His expression is intensely focused. I can tell he loves what he sees, and also notice his concern that he hasn’t bound me too tightly as he runs his finger under the rope, testing the tautness against my skin.

  “Okay?” he asks, whisper soft.

  I moisten my lips and nod.

  “If it gets uncomfortable, tell me right away.”

  I nod again, my pulse flying, tension rising and rising under my skin. Brody pushes me gently down against the mattress and stares down at me with this incredible combination of passion, possession, and protectiveness in his eyes, and it’s all I can do not to groan aloud.

  No one has ever looked at me the way he does. No one has ever made me feel the way he does. I know we’re crossing over into new territory, that this kind of emotional intimacy never goes hand in hand with physical intimacy for either of us, and it scares the shit out of me but also makes me so elated I feel drugged. Adrenaline crashes through me until I’m trembling all over, quaking with need and emotion.

  “It’s all right,” says Brody, watching me with soft eyes. “I’m here. You’re safe. Just breathe.” He settles a hand low on my belly. “Spread your legs for me, baby.”

  I part my knees. He runs his hands slowly up my thighs, and nudges my legs wider apart. Then he stands there looking down at the most private part of me, his cock twitching.

  He gently pinches my folds between two fingers.

  I close my eyes, arching into his hand.

  “Sweet, beautiful girl,” he rasps, stroking the rough pad of his thumb over my clit, dipping it down lower to press inside me. “You’re so pink and sweet here. So soft. So wet.”

  I’m starting to sweat. The combination of his words, the husky tone of his voice, the rope chafing my skin, and how gentle he’s being all combine to make me desperately hot. I’m burning up.

  He drags me by my hips to the edge of the bed so my bottom is hanging over by a few inches. He kneels between my legs, digs his hands into the flesh of my ass, and licks my pussy.

  My sucked-in breath is loud, but it must not count because Brody ignores it.

  He kisses me there as he would my mouth, a gently swirling motion and constant suction, a deliberate sweep of his tongue over the swollen bud of my clit. I strain against my bindings, panting, my head thrown back, my trembling legs thrown over his shoulders, listening to all the noises he’s making, the wet sucking sounds and deep, pleased grumbles, trying to hold back the scream building inside my chest.

  Then he presses two fingers inside me and lightly scrapes his teeth against my clit.

  I jerk. A ragged moan tears from my lips before I can stop it.

  Brody reaches up and pinches my nipple—hard.

  “Please,” I whisper, desperate for release.

  His fingers gentler, he strokes his thumb back and forth over my throbbing nipple. Suckling my clit, he presses his fingers deeper inside me.

  I helplessly rock against his mouth. He grabs on to the knot above my belly button and uses the rope to pull me even closer. He reaches up with both hands and squeezes my breasts, rhythmically pinching my nipples. Losing it, I begin to buck against his mouth.

  “I’ll spank this pussy so hard if you come before you’re told!”

  He goes right back to eating me as soon as those words are spoken, but it’s too late. I’m there.

  With a loud, wavering scream, I come.

  Brody rears up and shoves his hard cock deep inside me.

  I convulse around it, thrashing and moaning like a madwoman, my thighs drawn up around his waist. I hear him cursing, feel his hands on my neck and breasts, holding me down, but I’m barely aware of anything else because he feels so goddamn good it’s unreal.

  “That’s your cock, baby,” he growls into my ear. “Come on it.”

  I do, over and over, crying out his name, until my legs are jelly and the pulsing in my core finally slows, and then stops.

  I float for a while, almost disconnected from my body, somewhere peaceful inside my head. When I come back to myself, Brody is still on top of me—still in me—his arms tensed and his heart pounding hard against mine. I blink up at him.

  He mutters, “Oops.”

  I turn my head to his arm and weakly start to laugh.

  “You’re gonna need to give me a mulligan here, Slick. That was an accident.”

  I laugh harder.

  “It’s kinda funny how every time we do this you end up laughing.”

  I kiss his arm. “Funny ha-ha, or funny strange?”

  He starts to withdraw from my body, and I groan. “No!”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s too late! The thirty-day thing is toast! You already screwed the pooch!”

  “You should never refer to yourself as a pooch, beautiful. You’re anything but.”

  With a regretful grunt, he pulls out of me.

  “Oh God, I hate you right now.”

  He tsks. “Careful, Slick. I still haven’t punished you for coming yet.”

  I freeze. “What?”

  He stands, beautiful and naked, legs spread, at the edge of the bed. Gazing down at me with heated eyes and a mysterious smile, he pulls me up by the knot on my stomach. “We’ll get to that later. Open your mouth.”

  With one hand on his erection and the other around my jaw, Brody guides my lips to his cock, still wet from being inside me.

  “Clean me off,” he whispers. “Every drop.”

  I lap at him like an obedient puppy as he watches me, his breathing erratic. I lick him base to tip, swallowing every so often, tasting myself.

  “The rope still okay, sweetheart?” />
  “Yes.”

  He digs his hands into my hair. “Good. Now suck.”

  When the head of his cock nudges the back of my throat, I make a little noise that sends a shiver through Brody’s body. His eyes drift halfway shut.

  “I want to come in your mouth. If you don’t want that tell me now so we can do something else.”

  I suck harder.

  “That’s my girl,” he whispers, flexing his hips.

  My toes dig into the carpet as he starts a slow, repetitive thrusting, slightly deeper with each push. I love how he holds my head motionless, how helpless I am to use my hands or even move. All I can do is submit to him as he sets the pace and uses my mouth for his own pleasure.

  “I’m close,” he says, breathing hard. “God, sweetheart, you’re so fucking—”

  He cuts off with a fractured groan. He pumps hard into my mouth several more times, his fingers digging into my scalp, and then, with a shout, throws his head back and comes.

  And comes.

  And comes.

  He starts to lose his balance or the strength in his legs, because his knees buckle. He curses. Without releasing my head, he takes a knee on the mattress so he’s supporting all the weight of my upper body with his hands behind my head. He stares down at me, his face red, his lips parted, his eyes dazed.

  I swallow, breathing through my nose. Brody moans as the muscles in my throat contract around him.

  “Grace,” he gasps, shuddering. “Grace.”

  I swallow again.

  He plants a hand on the mattress and eases me down, keeping his cock in my mouth and a hand under my neck, until finally I’m flat on my back and he’s balanced over me, stroking my throat and softly groaning as I continue to suck and swallow everything he’s giving me.

  I’m bound, helpless, completely at his mercy, yet, because of what I see in his eyes, I’ve never felt more powerful in my life.

  When his body is no longer racked with tremors and his breathing has slowed, he carefully pulls out of my mouth. He releases the knot on my stomach, unwinds the rope from around my body, rolls me to my side so he can untie the knot at my wrists, and then tosses the rope to the floor.

  “Come here, baby.” He gathers me in his arms. He rolls us around so I’m on top of him, my head resting on his chest, and then starts to massage my neck, shoulders, and arms. “Are you okay?”