I knew that. I felt it.
Wanted it.
All of it.
Wanted him to lose his mind. Lose all control.
“Don’t hold back,” I whispered.
“I…I don’t think I’m capable of it,” he growled, his voice hoarse and ragged.
I kept doing what I was doing, alternating speed and the way I used my mouth, keeping it slow. I made love to his cock with my mouth, is what I did. Kissed it, tongued it, made it mine.
I would never have anticipated liking this. I’d always sort of assumed I wouldn’t, that I’d probably do it if asked, but that was about it.
No.
This was…power. He was mine. His pleasure was mine.
I loved every second of it. Especially as his hips lifted, and began to pump.
“Mmm,” I hummed, as he started involuntarily flexing, pumping his cock into my throat. “Mmmhmmm,” I moaned, and then gulped around him.
“Oh fuck, Torie, oh fuck, holy fuck…what are you doing to me?” he gasped.
I moaned again, and he snarled as my throat humming tightened around him, and now he was thrusting, helpless and wild, and I let him, pulled away far enough that his thrusting brought the head of his cock to the back of my throat and no farther. I moved my hands around him in time with his manic pumping, stroking him hard now, with one hand around his root and the other cupping and squeezing his balls the way I knew he liked so much.
“I’m gonna come ohgodTorieohFUCKohgod…”
I felt the way his sac tensed, throbbed, felt the vein running under his balls and up the back of his length as it pulsed. I knew the explosion was imminent.
His hands jerked in my hair, twice. “I’m gonna come, Torie,” he gasped, warning me at the last possible moment.
“Mmmm,” I hummed, eager for him to let go.
He was writhing, hips pivoted as far up as they would go, heels braced on the floor, lying back on the bed, not really thrusting so much as trying to push deeper into my mouth, into my plunging fist.
Another ragged groan, and then Rhys broke.
I tasted a flood of tangy, smoky salt on the back of my tongue and then I had to gulp. I pulled away so only the plump head of him was in my mouth and I squeezed his balls and stroked him fast, and tasted his orgasm in rush after rush.
He was arched, hands in my hair and on the back of my head, holding me against his cock, pushing me deeper, so I went deeper. His cum filled my mouth and I swallowed, but not fast enough, and it trickled out of the corners of my lips around his massive throbbing shaft, down my chin.
Again, he spasmed, and dear God how much cum did the man have? More of it filled my mouth, overloading me, and I swallowed some but couldn’t take it all at once and he was still groaning, gasping, ragged and raw, and the wild bliss on his face and in his voice and in every line of his body was beautiful, the desperate ecstasy was glorious, the fact that I’d brought this man to this state of helplessness and powerlessness was…intoxicating.
Finally, it felt like he was done coming, and I backed away, let him out of my mouth, kept my lips sealed against the hot thick mouthful of his essence I hadn’t swallowed yet. I kept stroking him, milking his climax for all he had, and was rewarded with another tiny pulse of liquid seeping out of him, a broken gasp from Rhys accompanying it.
He was panting raggedly, as if he’d just done a hundred-yard dash, uphill, carrying weights. Sweating. Eyes closed, his face somewhere between heaven and earth.
I was regaining my breath.
His eyes opened, fixed on me. “Holy shit, Torie.” He blinked. Let out a breath. “Holy shit, I think I love you.”
I gulped, coughed, and wiped at my lips and chin. Coughed again. “Wh—what?”
He struggled to sit up, weak as a kitten. He latched onto my wrist, pulled me toward him—it was a weak tug, and I climbed up onto the bed. He pulled me closer, onto his lap. I hadn’t meant to engage emotional intimacy, only to alleviate my own physical desire for Rhys and his god body.
He held me close, my head tucked against his chest, under his chin. His arms around me. Holding me tight, as if to never let go.
My eyes stung and I told myself it was just because of the coughing fit I’d just gotten over.
“I don’t take it back,” he murmured.
“It was just heat of the moment, right?” I asked. “Like, holy shit I think I love you for doing that.”
He shook his head. “I mean, sure, that’s one meaning.”
“Rhys.”
“Not taking it back. Not apologizing. Not pretending I don’t know what I meant.”
“It was a blowjob, Rhys. Just a blowjob. You’ve gotten blowjobs before.”
“Sure. Never like that, though.” He let out a sharp, disbelieving breath. “Whenever you touch me, it’s always just…more. More intense, more pleasurable, more…meaningful.”
“You’re just using that word because I used it.”
“No.”
“Rhys. You can’t tell me you love me because I sucked you off.”
“I didn’t tell you I loved you. I told you I think I love you. And not because you sucked me off. It was an admission of the truth, and it happened because you made me lose control over my filter.” He pulled me away, held my face in both hands, stared me down so I wanted to look away from his intense gaze, but couldn’t. “It may have been an involuntary verbal ejaculation, but I meant it and I don’t take it back. Do with it what you will.”
I was trembling. My heart was pounding. My brain was spinning. “I…”
He sighed, long and slow. Held my face. Kissed me, tenderly, briefly. Pushed me off of him, off the bed. “Go. Take a shower.”
I went, not bothering to close the bathroom door. I turned on the shower, letting it get hot while I rummaged in the drawer of the vanity—as long as I’d been alive, Mom kept a stash of new toothbrushes and tubes of toothpaste in the drawer of each bathroom. And, sure enough, there they were. I brushed my teeth. Rinsed. Brushed again.
Still tasted Rhys’s cum.
Salty, musky. Smoky, pungent. Felt it in my mouth, coating my lips and tongue, teeth and inside of my cheeks.
I liked the taste.
Liked the feel of it.
Liked knowing I’d done something to him that no one ever had. Liked thinking maybe I’d done it to him so well that no one, in the future, would ever be able to compare. But that thought was gross—the idea of another woman, after me, putting her mouth on his cock. Touching him. Kissing him. Another woman’s hands where mine had been?
NO.
He was mine.
Fuck, that thought was potent, like lightning striking my gut, lancing through my soul, piercing my heart.
I felt his eyes on me as I brushed my teeth a third time and then washed my hands.
It wasn’t that I wanted the taste of him out of my mouth. On the contrary. I wanted more of him. I wanted him more than ever. I wanted to sit on his lap and play with his limp cock until it got hard again so I could suck it dry all over again. See if I could make him even crazier.
I wanted to climb on his lap and take that big hard pulsing cock inside me.
That’s what I really wanted, more than anything I’d ever wanted.
I wanted to know what that felt like. Needed it. Needed to be filled by him. Taken by him. Owned, possessed, penetrated.
Fucked.
Loved.
Holy shit, Torie. I think I love you.
I got in the shower and scrubbed obsessively, as if I could scrub away the feel of his hands on my skin, and yet I couldn’t scrub away the fantasy that filled my suddenly sex-obsessed mind: him, kneeling over me as I lie on my back on the bed, him with his cock in my hands, jerking him hard and fast, him, exploding with a shout to let loose a thick flood of hot wet cum all over my belly and breasts and face.
I shook my head to clear it of the image.
Too much porn, clearly.
Gross, right?
No, no way.
I put it out of my head, or tried. Shut off the water, toweled off, wrapped the towel around my torso and knotted it at my chest. I flipped my sopping wet hair upside down and wrapped a towel around it in a turban, glanced back into the bedroom at Rhys.
“It’ll take for freaking ever for my hair to dry. You should jump in now.”
“I can wait till you’re done.”
I laughed. “You don’t understand. I only wash my hair a couple times a week because it’s so long and thick it takes literally hours for it to dry. Go ahead and shower. At this point, we may as well just share the space, right?”
He nodded. Troubled, I think. His eyes were conflicted. “Tor, I…”
He was standing in front of me. Naked. Limp cock hanging down to the floor. Hard body tense and lined with conflict.
I touched his lips with my tongue. Gazed up at him. “It’s okay, Rhys. I just…I need to process what you said and how I feel about it.”
His eyes burned. “I want to return the favor.” He made to drop to his knees.
I grabbed his elbows to stop him. “You have no fucking clue how much I want to let you. But…” I let out a breath. “One, I want what I did to stand alone. To not be part of more. To be something I did for you, because I wanted to. Two, if I let you do that, go down on me, we won’t stop. And it’s not the right time. We don’t have the time or the privacy for what that will be, when it happens.”
He nodded, and then tilted his head. “Okay, I get it. I’ll wait. But you said to surprise you with it—and I’m going to. When you least expect it.”
I felt a frisson of excitement. “That’s exactly what I’m hoping for.”
He sighed heavily. “I better get in the shower before I decide to ignore what you want and take what I want.”
I shivered. I kind of wanted that. Like, a lot.
He reached into the shower, twisted on the water, held his hand under the spray to test the temperature.
Still breathing hard, it seemed as if holding back his desires was taking all of his effort.
“Fuck it,” he breathed.
And turned on me, erotic ferocity burning in his eyes.
Rhys
I had no power to hold back. She’d drained it out of me.
I slammed my body against hers, ripped the towel off her and let it drop to the floor. We stood skin to skin with her breasts smashed against my chest, her taut, soft core nestled against my cock, our bodies lined up perfectly. I tilted my face down, took her lips and devoured her. Demanded more. Tongues on tongues, lips moving, tangling, sliding wet and slick and warm. Her skin was so soft, so hot. I palmed her shoulders, ran my hands down her waist. Cupped her beautiful round ass in my hands.
I lifted her up and held her around my waist. Her legs scissored around my hips, her responses natural and immediate. With one arm under her ass I held her up, and I caressed her breasts with the other, kissing, kissing.
I left the water running, but I didn’t care.
I carried her to the bed.
Hard already, I could move just so, tilt, thrust, and I’d inside her.
Fuck, I needed to be there. To sink home into the woman I was falling for.
I let her fall onto the bed and hovered over her, our bodies lined up, centimeters separating my erection from her slit.
She saw the need, the impulse.
“Rhys,” she breathed.
“I know,” I whispered.
I’d heard the plea. To do it, to not do it.
She didn’t know.
She was lost in desire, but desperately trying to hold to her decision.
I slid lower. Kissing as I went, I moved down her body. Belly, hip, slit. I took her clit into my mouth and did all the things she liked the most, all at once, no mercy, no drawing it out, no letting her down and bringing her back up.
Hard and fast, I took her there.
She fell over the edge, whimpering my name, slapping a palm over her mouth, and then biting down on the edge of her hand to muffle the scream as she came.
I left her orgasming, stood up as she twisted and writhed, knees sliding against each other, rolling to the side and curling up as it shook her.
“Just a tease of what I’m going to do to you,” I told her. “Had to. Couldn’t stop myself. I’ve been dying to taste you again since we left Ohio.”
She just whimpered, nodded, trembling all over and occasionally twitching as the climax continued to shiver through her.
“Was that all the way, or a partial?” I asked.
She gulped for air, rolled to her back, flopping to sprawl out wide as I perched on the edge of the bed. “I…I don’t even know.”
“You mad?”
She lolled her head to one side. “I got a miracle of an orgasm. So…no. But one of these days, I’m gonna surprise you with a BJ at a time when you can’t give it back to me.”
“Why is that important to you?” I asked, sliding a palm over her belly, touching her just to feel her skin, her body.
A lazy shrug of a shoulder. “I dunno. It just is. I don’t want everything between us to always be a back and forth. I want to give you things, do things just because I enjoy doing it, just because I like making you feel good. Not because I know you’re going to do something to me in return.”
“Well the problem with that premise—if you can call it a problem—is that I feel the same way. I want to do…everything to you, for you. All the time. Whether I’ve gotten anything from you or not, whether I will or not.” I traced a fingertip around the darker flesh of her areola. “Just because.”
She rested a hand over mine, where it lay on her breast. “That’s what scares me about this, Rhys—that sounds an awful lot like love to me.”
“I said it, didn’t I?”
“You said you think you do.”
I nodded. Held her eyes. “Well, where’s the line between I think, and I do?”
She closed her eyes, turned her head away to face the ceiling. Inhaled slowly, deeply—let it out shakily between pursed lips. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“No shit,” I said, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “But it did.”
Another shaky breath. “Rhys…I…” She turned to look at me again, this time with tear-hazed eyes. “I’m way past I think.”
“Dammit,” I hissed. “You couldn’t just not feel the same way? You couldn’t just not give a shit? Just break my heart, Torie. It’d be easier than this.”
A long silence. “I know. I feel the same way,” she said. “If you just wanted to screw me and go your way, I’d be better off. I could give you my V-card, have some great memories, and then just get over my feelings and move on with my life.”
“Yet, here we both are.”
“In Alaska,” she said. She rubbed her face; she still had the towel around her hair, but it was coming loose, exposing a hint of black underneath. “The place I’m staying, and you’re not.”
I swallowed hard. “You’re staying, huh?”
She seemed barely able to summon a whisper. “The moment I hugged my mama, I knew.” Her eyes met mine. “Part of me would rather go back with you after the wedding.”
I held down my turbulent emotions. “Nah. Your family is here, Tor. This is where you belong.”
“I’d…I’d rather belong with you.”
My eyes stung. “You say that, but…I’ve never belonged to anyone, never had anyone belong to me. Not even a dog. I was more of a roommate with my parents once I got to middle school. I’d…selfishly, I’d love nothin’ more than to belong to you, and you to me. But I don’t…I don’t know if I could uproot myself from New Haven and start over here. And I sure as shit ain’t gonna ask you to come back to New Haven—you said it yourself, that place is a de
ad end for you.”
“So where does that leave us?” she whispered, barely audible.
“With amazing memories and broken hearts, I guess.”
“It’s been, what, six or seven days? How the hell can I feel this strongly for you after less than a week? It’s stupid. That shit only happens in movies and cheesy romance novels, not in real life.”
“I don’t know,” I said.
She was quiet a while, and I let the silence breathe. After a minute or two, she pushed at me. “Go. Get cleaned up. We gotta meet my enormous new family.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Let’s get ready.”
I stood up, and she held on to my wrist, stopping me before I walked away. “Rhys? You…you can go. Like, leave. If it’s easier. For…you. You don’t have to stay for the wedding. Or at all. You can, you’re invited, and selfishly I’d love more time with you. But if you feel like it’s best to just rip the Band-Aid off, I understand.” She blinked hard. “I just…you have the out. If you want it.”
“Let me shower and think about that.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Truthfully, that does have a certain appeal. But so does more time with you.”
I got into the shower, and when I got out, Torie was gone, and I heard a hair dryer going in her mother’s bathroom, and both towels were on the bed. Me being me, I threw them over the towel rack.
I hadn’t figured out if I should leave or not. Meeting her whole family sounded like fun, but maybe it would just end up being a different version of falling in love with Torie and then having to leave. Maybe it would be better if I just left.
I toweled off, dressed in clean underwear, jeans, and a T-shirt, ran my hand through my hair to get it to lie down as much as it ever would, which wasn’t much. It was thick and unruly, and I rarely had patience to do anything special with it.
I couldn’t just leave. I was burnt out on driving.
I’d leave tomorrow.
Early. Tell her goodbye tonight, and leave at first light.
It’d be best.
It meant not getting to sleep with her, but that was safest. If we did that, I’d fall all the way, and fixing the break in my heart would be…more than I could handle.
A Real Goode Time Page 24
