by Demi Alex
“Ha! You should appreciate that one. Six points for me. Pass complete.”
I threw my hands in the air and did a manic end-zone dance all the way to his bureau. Pulling out his Hard Rock Cancun t-shirt, an Aerosmith shirt, and his favorite threadbare sweater from ten Christmases ago, I walked back to the window and dropped them straight down this time. Watching the colorful garments flutter to the white ground sent a thrill of victory to my gut. It unclenched and started to do a dance of its own.
The smell of burnt popcorn reached my nose and my moment of triumph collapsed with the same intensity it had set on. The stench spread, and gray smoke infused every nook in the house. I walked through the rest of the apartment, opening windows as I made my way to the kitchen in order to throw out the offensive snack.
Adrenaline drummed through my body. I felt so tightly strung, that I knew I would snap if I didn’t calm down. So, as soon as all the windows were open, and the thirty degree air-out was under way, I made some coffee, passed on the popcorn in favor of some store bought brownies, and plopped down in front of the television set to watch a marathon of holiday movies in my lace teddy, all alone.
I needed the sanity that came with veging for a few hours and staring numbly at the screen. George Clooney had always proved to be good medicine, so he was my first choice. Once George had me back in the mood, I would splurge the twenty bucks needed for my harem of well hung men and bring out my B.O.B. to get off on my own.
I was adventurous. And, I could prove it. I didn’t need him. For all I cared, Christian could take a hike and not come back.
My clit didn’t agree. It gave a protesting throb, missing Christian, as my mind replayed the way he’d woken me up in the morning.
His tongue circled the tip of my nipple which was jutting through the lace of the bustier. His fingers splayed over the lower part of my ass and moving in a definite path to my wet folds. I was so hot for him that I ached. An erotic haze settled around us. I placed my hands on his shoulders for balance as he dropped his head and moved the lace panty to the side, exposing my bare skin. His thumb settled on my clit and his tongue slid between my aching pussy. I was about to come, one more flick and I would have been over the edge, but the phone rang.
The moment was temporarily lost as his family confirmed the time for breakfast. I was on the phone, as he slyly licked his lips and lowered himself between my legs. I tried to push him away, but he held me tight and refused to let me close my legs. Trying to finish the conversation, I dropped the phone as his tongue caressed my clit and his fingers filled me. Thankfully, he pulled the cord from the jack and disconnected the call.
“Merry Christmas,” I’d said as my orgasm hit.
I smiled and had a wonderful day, up until the moment he’d pushed me too far. It was his fault, not mine. So, where did he get the idea that I was hormonal? How dare he accuse me of being hard to live with?
I told him I didn’t need his shit, and he flipped. He was the hormonal one, not me. The yelling which followed left my throat sore. It had been brutal, and I didn’t want to think of it.
Turning up the volume on the television, I focused on George, but George wasn’t helping. The image of Christian’s face between my thighs was stuck in my mind. In a frustrated search for some delayed gratification, I rubbed my clit. Round and round, the friction and heat burned, but I couldn’t come. I ground my hips up to my hand, tweaked my nipple through the lace, and nothing. Nada. Couldn’t do it alone.
Tears filled my eyes, and I grew angrier with each one that spilt. There was no doubt that I was crying over him. I was crying because I wasn’t enough. I didn’t have the guts to make him happy. Anyway, he was asking for way too much. I couldn’t let him eat me on the hood of my new car. It just wasn’t right. I was not an exhibitionist. Even the way he’d said ‘eat’ was crude.
Moisture pooled between my thighs. My mind might be a prude, but my body liked it.
Throwing my head back on the couch in frustration, I spied the candles I’d set up for my night of seduction. Unfortunately, burnt popcorn had settled into my skin, in my hair, and on the cushions of the couch. It turned my stomach a little bit more with each breath I took. I’d be stuck with the revolting smell for days. I needed to light those freaking-fourteen-dollar-candles to get rid of the odor that was inhibiting my orgasm and enabling my sour mood.
Striking the matches, I stood and lit each of the candles. Seventy dollars worth of candles for me to enjoy on my own. Then it hit me. Christian’s favorite clothes were spared the clinging stench!
Damn, I got the short end of the stick again.
I hurried to the kitchen trash like a crazed woman. Fishing through the coffee grinds and paper towels I’d intentionally stuffed the can with only moments earlier, I pulled out the singed popcorn that was sealed in two plastic supermarket bags and a gallon-sized baggie. Carrying my weapon at arm’s length, I hurried back to the bedroom and emptied Christian’s t-shirt drawer on the floor. Then I unzipped the baggie, poured out the popcorn, and set it in the center of the pile. I jumped on it and rolled my body from one end to the other, making sure the smell was evenly distributed. I gathered the mess in my arms, walked to the window, and simply dropped it.
There! Now, his clothes stank as bad as mine did and had the added benefit of being wet.
Maybe I was just a little hormonal.
Maybe.
But, who cared?
The shivering got too great for my body to handle and I wondered what would get me first: the icy cold or my nerves? I slammed the window shut. Grabbing the throw at the foot of the bed, I tried to return to George on my forty-two inch plasma, but there was ‘some sort of something’ at the door. Not a knock, not a pounding… it sounded again. Louder the second time.
“Open the door,” a muffled voice called. “Kat, open the door before I kick it in.”
It was Christian. But why wasn’t he using his key?
I contemplated letting him stay out there, but I simply couldn’t do it. Hearing his voice melted my resolve, and I wanted to give him a chance. Still shivering from the cold, I stretched up and slid the chain off its latch. “You’d better not have anyone with you,” I warned.
I cracked the door open and leaned to the side to peek at him. There he stood, grinning at me like he’d just gone out to the corner store and forgot his key on a regular night. His damp hair was covered with fresh snow, his cheeks stung with red cold dots, and his stinky clothes were snug in his arms.
At the sight of him, my traitorous heart beat faster and was about to explode when he dropped his bundle and gathered me into his arms, holding me to him like a long lost treasure. I sank into him, inhaling the fresh woodsy scent so different than the one that had engulfed me in the apartment. My hands snaked under his jacket and around his back. My fingers clenched onto his sweater and I buried my sobbing face into his chest.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come back,” I said.
“I’m here. I could never leave. No matter what,” he breathed against the top of my head, rocking me in his embrace. His broad hand cupped the back of my head and held it against the melting snow just beneath his shoulder. I could feel the erratic beat of his heart, and I could hear the air pushing through his lungs. “Let me kiss it and make it all better,” he said, using his thumb to raise my chin, and then lowered his head and captured my lips.
I thought I tried to refuse, which looking back on, I must admit wasn’t much, I couldn’t. I knew the double meaning of those words, but I couldn’t push him away again. I couldn’t risk losing him. I wrapped my arms around his neck, intertwined my fingers in his hair, and ensured that his lips wouldn’t leave mine. I’d make him understand.
Christian’s hands sprawled down my back, settling on the curves of my bottom, and he pulled me tightly so that my body was flush with his. He kicked the clothing through the apartment’s threshold, and placing my bare feet on his boots, walked me backwards through the tiny hallway.
I needed
him. In spite of the cold he brought in from outside, the heat of his body soothed my trembling and chased away the shivers. The taste of bitter ale lingering on his lips urged my mind into a state of instant intoxication. And lastly, it was his groans of strained control that fed my battered ego.
He wanted me.
He needed me more than I needed him because I could stop at any time.
Couldn’t I?
Propping me against the wall, he shrugged out of his jacket and let it fall to the floor. He stepped out of his boots and threw them to the rubber mat. Then he shook the melting snow from his hair and turned to me with a sheepish grin. “Sorry, Kat.”
I waited, but he didn’t elaborate. What the hell was he sorry for?
He unbuckled his belt and pulled it through the loops, then dropped it over his jacket. “Don’t look so concerned. I’m not going to punish you for acting out. Not with the belt.”
I hated him. Hated his high-handed arrogance, but I couldn’t stop myself from gawking at his crotch. I swear, if I didn’t know better, I’d think he stuffed his shorts with knee-high socks. I fisted my hands and pushed them against the side of my thighs to prevent myself from reaching for him, but I couldn’t stop from wetting my lips and displaying how anxious I was to stroke the soft steel that I adored.
He caught my tongue between his thumb and forefinger, and encircled it slowly, sensually, until a moan slipped between my lips. Then he fit those same fingers inside my bustier and rolled my aching nipple, sending ripples of pleasure to my core.
“What are you sorry for?” I breathed as he lowered his head and scraped his teeth down the side of my neck. Thoughts evaded my mind. All I could do was feel his lips, his tongue, and his teeth brand my neck and mark me as his.
“Please,” I whimpered, but I had no clue what I was begging for.
“You don’t have to know,” he answered my unasked question. “You just have to be good, Kat.” He unzipped his pants and released his erection.
The way I gasped at his wide length, you’d think I never saw his cock before. But I had, and at that moment, all I wanted was to straddle his narrow hips and lower myself onto it.
He shook his head. Again an answer to my non-verbal desire.
Lowering his pants, he stepped out of them with that gleam in his eyes that made my stomach flip. He bent and cupped my ass, lifting my toes off the floor with the mere strength of his fingers on my bottom. I wiggled and spread my thighs, clasping my calves around his hips and hoping that his hand would slip- slip right into my pulsing hole.
“You said I was impossible to live with,” I complained.
“That is what I’m sorry for,” he said, bypassing the thong and sliding along my aching folds. “You’re not impossible to live with, rather you’re impossible to live without. And, I’m sorry for walking out on your sexy little arrangement. We could do that soon. But now, you need to trust me. I know what is going to make you nuts. I’m going to make your eyes glaze over and your mouth scream my name while you beg me for more.”
“Bastard,” I said, lowering myself onto his hand and grinding my hips so that my clit rubbed against the heel of his palm.
“I’m a bastard.” He pushed a long, thick finger into me and reached for my special spot. “Tell me how you don’t ever want to see me again.” He found the mark, and I groaned as my inner muscles clamped on his finger and pulled it deeper.
“Tell me,” he repeated. “I like it when you’re pissed and demanding, baby. I want a reason to tame you. To bend you to my way, so that you beg me to take you any way I want.” He smirked, waiting for me to come back with something smart so he could reprimand me. “Come on, baby. You know you’re frustrated. I see where the mascara trickled down your face.”
I bit my lower lip, shook my head side to side, and climbed further up his body. Digging my nails into his shoulder, I felt him shudder. He was going to break first. His finger was deep inside me and his palm pressed on my silky smooth mound. It would drive him nuts that I wasn’t letting him run his tongue over my naked pussy.
I wasn’t going to tell him a thing he wanted to hear. I wasn’t going to give him the words that would make him more excited than I was. I wanted him to finger me till the lights went out. The pleasure was going to be all mine. He didn’t deserve it.
I thrust my breasts in his face. My nipples strained for his attention, but he didn’t notice. He raised his chin in defiance and his stubble chafed my heavy flesh.
“You’re so hot, so ready,” he whispered. “One finger won’t be enough.”
I was determined to make it enough. I arched my back and cupped my breasts. Playing with my nipples, I moved my hips in the same rhythm against his hand and looked directly into his eyes. My clit was getting the attention it needed, and I’d take an orgasm any way I could. Just to rouse him further, I opened my mouth as if to speak, but ran the tip of my tongue over my lips instead. His cock jerked.
“Mmmm,” was all I said.
Pay back is a bitch. And maybe I wasn’t playing by his rules, but his body liked it. His nipples puckered under his shirt, and judging be the reaction of his glistening cock, he more than liked it. He wanted to stake his claim, to prove he could make me do what he wanted in the place and time of his choosing. The intensity of his gaze burned, and I could no longer feel the cold air blowing through the apartment.
“Give me a reason,” he growled.
Again, I shook my head.
He pulled his finger out, grasped my hips, forcing my legs to unwrap from him, and lowered my feet to the floor. “You’re being a bad girl, Kat. Bad girls don’t come unless-”
“Bastard!” I yelled. “I hate you.”
“There is a fine line between hate and love,” he breathed, tearing the teddy in half and running his hand down my middle, making remarks about the smoothness of my skin and the appeal of my fresh wax.
“You stay pink for days. I like that.” He placed me on the table and spread my thighs wide. “It’s like kissing a sweet treat that I’m not worthy of,” he said, lowering his head and tasting the evidence of what he was doing to me. He flicked his tongue up my trembling folds and suckled my nub till my hips rose to meet him.
“You’re not worthy,” I confirmed. “I can’t stand you.”
He laughed as I conceded and played by his rules. I’d given in first.
“Now, do we really need this?” He pulled on the strings of lingerie tucked between my legs.
I shook my head.
“Good. I have no craving for the taste of lace.” He tugged at the lace strap, scraping over my sensitive folds and managing to smack my ass as he pulled it up.
Dipping his head, he gave me what I deserved and devoured me like a starved man eating a fresh piece of fruit. Using first one, then two fingers, he fucked me, sucking my clit until sparks shot from my core to every cell of my body. Then he pulled me down the table to the very edge, removed his fingers and plunged his cock into my desperate pussy. I locked my ankles behind his ass and begged for more.
“Will you do it?” he asked, pulling out and holding the smooth tip of his cock at my entrance.
“I can’t,” I cried, feeling the tears scorching my cheeks.
“Why?” Christian dipped into me and pulled right back out. His thumb encircled my clit with enough pressure to keep me on the edge, but not allowing my release. “It’s dark out now.”
“I’m too shy,” I admitted in defeat.
He pumped into me again. Once, twice, three times, and then a long, heavenly grind had me willing to do anything for my climax. His eyes glittered with the knowledge, and I finally nodded my acceptance.
“Please, Christian, please.”
“I’ll get your coat,” he said, smiling ear to ear.
When he turned his back, my hand settled between my legs, and I played with myself, envisioning what was about to happen. Butterflies danced in my stomach, and I hoped for what I’d always feared, but I couldn’t admit to it.
&nbs
p; Christian was back in less than a minute. He wrapped my coat around my naked body and carried me out the door.
“I’ve had wet dreams about tasting your delicious honey as you’re body is spread on the hood of that car,” he said, pushing the elevator button with his elbow.
His hand burrowed under my coat and between my legs. Spreading my folds, he pushed his thumb into me as his fingers rounded my ass and held my weight. I clung to his neck and buried my head in his shoulder.
I refused to look up. What if the door opened and someone was there? What if they saw?
At the very thought, my climax hit and the world started to spin. “More, Christian, I want more,” I called out.
He righted me against the stainless steel wall and thrust his cock into me in a swift move as my body drowned in wave after wave of sweet release. As I came up for air, I realized that the elevator had long reached its destination, and Christian still pumped into me, making me claw at his bare ass to take more of him as the doors opened and closed again.
Bare ass! Shit. He was nude from the waist down!
We were fucking in a public elevator, an elevator in which the doors opened to the night air.
The thrill of getting caught pulsed straight to my clit. I opened my eyes to look up at the mirrored ceiling and was mesmerized, watching his tight ass thrust me up against the wall. My fingers entwined in the tail of his shirt and pulled him closer.
He banged me with such force that the whole elevator shook. The railing pushed against my bottom, and I squirmed an inch higher to rest on it. His hand snaked between us and his thumb flicked my clit as my next climax set. It was surreal. The earth spun, and as he exploded deep inside me, my world shattered in a colorful prism of erotic bliss and the most extreme orgasm of my life took over my body.
Christian kept me from falling, literally screwing me upright. I concentrated on breathing, and when my heart beat returned to steady, I dared to lift my head from his neck and look into his face.
“I love you, Kat.”
