Impressions of You (The Impressions Series Book 1)

by Christopher Harlan

  “Oh, yeah,” he says sarcastically. “I’m doing so well that I nearly had the woman I’m falling in love with literally run out of my home because I’m such a secretive, closed up, anxious mess.” Wait, wait, wait, what did he just say—that he’s falling in love with me! Did I hear that right? I know that there were other words in there, some laughter I think, but did he just say that he’s falling in love with me. Does he realize that he said that? “But I love that you’re such a positive person, Mia, you always try to find the good in situations, and in people. I love that about you.” There it is again, that word! Love!

  “I don’t want to hear any more about you blaming yourself for all this,” I implored, knowing full well that it’s not nearly that easy, but there’s no other way for me to say what I mean at that moment.

  “I’ll try,” he says. “But when I think back on what happened, I can’t help but blame myself, even though I know it isn’t rational.”

  “But there’s something that you’re not even considering when you blame yourself.”

  “Which is what, exactly?” he asks.

  “You’re assuming that you could have done anything to stop it. For all you know you both could have been kidnapped.” He looks at me as though he’d never considered what I was saying.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Ok, let me say it a different way. How many times have you played back that day in your mind since it happened?”

  “About a million times, at least, why?”

  “And when you think back on it, how does the scenario play out differently than it actually happened?”

  “Mia, please . . .”

  “No, Wesley,” I contend, forcing my point, “Just humor me. When you go back to that moment, how does it play out differently than it did in actuality?”

  “Well, I obviously don’t pass out, or even have a panic attack. I just hold Annabelle’s hand like I was supposed to, and we walk around a little more, find my parents, and then we all go home. Just a normal day, you know.” His words are exactly what I expected.

  “Wesley, think about that for a minute. Two grown men, at least you think it was just two, who knows, it may have been more. It was broad daylight on a nice Saturday afternoon, in front of a crowd of other people.”

  “Right.”

  “So what makes you think they wouldn’t have taken both of you if you had resisted?” He looks puzzled when I ask. “You’re obviously a big, strong, protective man now, and the thought of someone abducting you is silly, but I’m pretty sure thirteen-year-old Wesley wasn’t the muscular, confident man standing in front of me now, right?” He smiles and nods.

  “Hardly.”

  “Exactly. So who’s to say that if you hadn’t passed out, that they wouldn’t have taken both of you and done God-only-knows what? Maybe you would have tried to fight back because you were the older brother and that’s what older brothers do, and maybe you both would have ended up dead. It’s a horrible thought, but the truth of the matter is that you don’t know what may have happened in any given scenario, Wesley, so please stop torturing yourself about what you could have done different. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Bad things just happen sometimes, and as unsettling a thought as that is, it’s the truth.” He’s very still when I finish talking, as though he needs time to process all of the new information that I’ve given him.

  “Thank you, Mia.”

  “For what?” I ask.

  “For trying to make me look at it differently and for being you.”

  I have this overwhelming need to kiss him. My words only had so much power, but I knew that I could make him feel better with my body. I lean in, grabbing his face with my hands and pressing my lips to his, and before I know it the sadness he was feeling seems to melt away, and it’s only us in that moment. Our kiss deepens, and I know that we both want more.

  I never would have imagined this moment playing out at the end of such a dramatic conversation. But all I want to do is be with him; all I want is to touch his naked body, and feel it pressed against mine. The time for words is over now, and when we pull away from each other he takes my hand and leads me up to his bedroom.

  It’s late, and outside the blackness of night is illuminated only by the glow of the moon, which sits full in the corner of his bedroom window. The desire between us is palpable, and it’s something that simply can’t be denied any longer. Wesley looks at me with burning passion in his eyes, and there’s no mistaking that look. He wants me and I want him too.

  We stand at the end of his bed facing each other; I unbutton his shirt and pull it off, exposing his strong broad shoulders and smooth muscled stomach. He is gorgeous and I can’t tear my eyes away. Suddenly he reaches down to the hem of my dress and pulls it over my head exposing my black lacey bra. He takes me in his arms and kisses me, next thing I know my bra is on the floor and his mouth has moved down to place soft kisses on my breasts. He begins to explore my body with his strong hands, and without his shirt I can see the full colors of his tattoos, they run the length of his arm, past his shoulders, and end on his hard pecs. He leans in and kisses my neck, the feeling makes me shiver and I rake my fingers down the back of his head. He pulls back and puts both hands on my cheeks, which are red and flushed with the same intense blood flow that’s coursing through my entire body. The sensations when he touches me are like electricity, and he pulls my face into his and our lips meet again, pressing hard against each other. I can feel the tip of his tongue dance around the edge of my mouth, begging to be let inside. I open my mouth, and he thrusts his tongue deep inside.

  I let my hands run over his chest, following the hard ridges of his abs, farther downwards, stopping at his belt to tease him. I can feel him pressing into me, and he begins to kiss me even harder as his breath gets more and more shallow. My heart speeds up, and I’m so turned on that I don’t know how much of this I can take, but he’s making me wait; building up my desire and making me feel as though I’m going to explode.

  His hands leave my face as our tongues continue to intertwine, and he cups my naked breast, and I cry out as he runs his thumb in small circles, gently over my nipple. I can’t stop the moaning; I’m so uncontrollably turned on that all I want is for him to be inside me, to feel the deep thrust of his throbbing cock pushing into me again and again, bringing me forcibly to the brink of climax. I’m done with the tease, and I quickly unbuckle his belt.

  My hands crawl downwards to the impressive erection that waits below. My fingers clasp around him like a vice, and he’s so big and hard that he barely fits in my grip. When I squeeze him he can’t help but moan loudly, as though it were the greatest sensation that he’s ever known. The sound of his excitement makes me squeeze even harder, and I begin to massage his long thick shaft, up and down, over and over. Touching him and hearing his groans is making me wet, he lowers his hand between my legs. His fingers don’t need any guidance, they move in and out of me while his thumb circles my clit, brining me to the brink of coming several times. Each time he stops just before I climax; his touch is perfect, like he knows the limitations of my body, and each time he pulls away from me I feel an emptiness waiting to be filled again.

  He scoops me up with no effort at all, making me feel weightless, and presses me hard against the wall. The feeling of my back hitting the wall takes my breath away, breath I barely have to spare, and I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist and tightly squeeze my thighs together. He holds me there, pressed against the wall, as he kisses me more deeply.

  I can feel the tip of his cock pressing into me, teasing my pussy with every movement. I want him inside me right now. He has me against the wall, but I still have some control. I whisper to him, “I want you to fuck me now, Wesley. I want to feel your huge cock inside of me.” I claw at his back and he reacts. Spinning me around, my legs still wrapped tightly around him, he bends at the waist and throws me back onto his bed. Standing over me he’s an absolute giant, his chest
is all muscle, and I run my hands over it again. Our eyes meet as he lays me down, and his eyes don’t speak of pain anymore, only the greatest adoration that a man can feel for a woman.

  The waiting is over now. It’s time. He reaches into the drawer next to his bed to get a condom, I hear the wrapper open next to me and look down just in time to see him rolling the condom on and stroking himself. It’s so amazingly hot that I think I might come before he’s even inside me. I reach between us to grab his cock and guide him inside me. I cry out and arch my back when he penetrates me, my hips shooting upwards to meet his body. Grabbing a hold of both my hips as I continue to arch, he begins thrusting in and out slowly at first and then picking up speed. When I lay flat again, allowing my body to surrender and be taken by the intensity of his rhythm, he sucks on my breasts as he presses deeper inside me.

  Moving with total fluidity, he hugs underneath both of my outstretched knees and scoops my legs straight up in the air, resting them against his chest. I can feel him so deeply inside me now, the wetness of my pussy allowing his huge cock to move seamlessly in and out. When he pushes into me I squeeze, gripping around him and making his eyes roll. He spreads my legs wide apart and positions his hands on either side of my head and leans down next to my ear. “If you don’t stop squeezing I’m going to come right now.” And with that statement he pulls out of me, sits back on his knees, and commands me to, “Turn over.”

  Before I turn around I get on both knees, facing him, and bend so that my mouth is perfectly aligned with his gigantic erection. Grabbing him with my left hand I put him in my mouth. He leaves his arms to his side at first, giving me all the control over what’s happening. I slowly lick around the plump head of his penis and then run my tongue up and down his lengthy erection. I take him all the way in my mouth and suck him so deep that I can feel him hit the back of my throat. I can hear the uncontrollable pleasure in his moaning and feel the tension building, and I look up directly into his eyes. He puts his hands on my head and I feel him pull me back, gently. He can’t contain his pleasure.

  He reaches down and turns me around, and I angle my ass up towards him as my face hits the pillow. He grabs onto me, and I can feel how strong he is. As he spreads me apart I wait to feel him inside me again, but it doesn’t happen right away. Instead I feel the slow, warm strength of his tongue between my legs. His head is buried completely between my spread legs, and I can feel his tongue hitting my clit over and over again. Then I hear him quietly growl, “You taste even better than I dreamed you would. This will never be anyone else’s. Mine.”

  I ride his mouth, moving back and forth with more and more determination, his hands guiding my body as his tongue bathes my clit. I start to scream out because I can’t take any more. I finally come, convulsing and moaning with such an intense orgasm that I think I might pass out. My arms can no longer hold up my body and I fall flat onto my stomach.. Now I feel him on me, the ridges of his abs pressed firmly into my back, his legs sandwiched between mine, forcing them apart. He reaches down and puts himself back inside, his cock slipping into me with ease.

  I’m not in control any more, and I don’t want to be. He’s in the driver’s seat, as I’m helpless to move, my body captured under his weight. I scream out his name as he penetrates and wastes no time sliding in and out of me with all his strength. I continue to yell; louder and louder as I get close to climaxing for a second time . . . Oh my God, I’m so close! He leans into me again, pulling my face back from the pillow by my hair. “Not yet,” he whispers in his deep voice. “I’m not ready for this to end.” He pulls out and I roll over and I bury myself back into the softness of the pillow.

  He enters me again and thrusts, faster and faster, with incredible stamina and force. He’s pressing his body against mine so that there’s no space between us. He grabs my face and kisses me deeply as the speed of his thrusts incredibly picks up.

  He moves down and takes my nipple into his mouth and sucks so hard that a jolt of pleasure shoots through me. It’s too much, I can’t take it, and my face strains uncontrollably as his mouth and cock do their dance. Pressing his lips against my ear, he softly whispers, “I want you to come for me right now.” That’s all it takes for me to let go, and I convulse uncontrollably. My body shakes with pleasure and my eyes roll back in my head as I feel him still and with a loud growl he shudders with his own release. I sink into the bed in complete exhaustion. We’ve both waited for this moment for so long, and it didn’t disappoint at all.

  Twice. No man has ever made me come that hard in my life, let alone two times in one night. We lie together, completely satisfied in each other’s arms. I never expected the night to take a turn like it did, but as I lay on his chest wrapped in his arms we fall asleep, with dreams of one another sure to come.

  “SO, WHO EXACTLY are you, blonde girl?” I wake up startled by a voice that definitely isn’t Wesley’s. I’m groggy, and so worn out from the sex with Wesley last night that I don’t realize that I’m lying on top of the sheets, naked. I’m too tired to be embarrassed, and as I rub my eyes I see a blurry, unmistakably large figure of a man standing at the foot of the bed looking down at me.

  “I’m sorry, who the hell are you, tall guy, because you sure as hell aren’t Wesley.” I let the full venom of my sarcasm go.

  “Well, thank God for small miracles,” he shoots back at me. I start to wake up a little more, and my eyes focus more clearly as I start to take a clearer assessment of the situation. I wrap Wesley’s sheets around my naked body and rub my eyes again to take in a better view of this guy. I missed the details before, but the outline I saw was accurate: he’s really tall—shorter than Wesley but not by much.

  “So,” I retort, deciding to continue our little banter, “you still haven’t said who you are, or what your creepy ass is doing hovering over a naked, sleeping woman in another man’s bedroom.” My angry wit gets a grin out of him. He’s undeniably handsome, but he is not my Wesley. He won’t give me the satisfaction of a full smile, but I can tell he likes me being feisty with him.

  “Well, someone’s got a mouth on her, doesn’t she,” he says with an aloof cockiness in his voice. “My brother sure knows how to pick them.” This is the brother? There are two tall, handsome and muscular brothers in one family, God their parents won the genetic lottery. Before I can get a word out I hear the bathroom door open, and out walks Wesley, followed by a big steam cloud from the shower he was taking. Even though this situation is about as bizarre as any I’ve ever been in, the sight of him, wrapped in a towel and dripping wet makes me want to pull him down on top of me again, brother or no brother in the room.

  “Kane,” he yells in an angry tone that only older siblings have when they’re mad. I used to sound that way when I’d yell at Jenna. Kane turns his gaze from me and looks right at Wesley and I can feel the awkward tension fill the room. For a minute I really think these two giant men are going to throw down right in front of me, and I scoot myself towards the side of the bed where Wesley is standing. If there were a fight I know he’d win.

  I’ve never seen him do anything physical except screw me like there was an Olympic gold medal to be had at the end of it, but something very primal in me just knew that he was a killer if he needed to be, especially if it came to protecting me. “What are you doing in my bedroom? You shouldn’t be in here.” Wesley sounds serious; this is his bedroom, his house, and yes, his woman, and if Kane is smart he’ll relent before things get ugly. He looks at me and I can see the resemblance between the two of them more, the Marsden brothers are quite handsome. Kane’s jaw is well defined, and unlike Wesley his hair is longer. He has the same dark, Mediterranean olive tone to his skin, like he’s spent more than his fair share of time in the sun. And, unlike his brother, his eyes are green, starkly green.

  “Well, girl, he must really like you. He looks like a vein in his head is about to burst” He laughs. “And you’re the only woman I ever remember him bringing home to his bed; you must be special.” He
grins again, a different grin than his brother’s; more like that handsome, smart ass, I-know-how-gorgeous-I-am kind of grin.

  Wesley has no idea how attractive he is, even though he must have been told as much by countless women. He’s humble, and so in his own head all the time, that he doesn’t always realize how he appears to the world. Kane is cocky, very aware of the fact that he’s handsome, and seems like self-reflective journal writing isn’t his late night activity of choice. “Kane,” Wesley says to his brother, “let’s talk outside, just you and me.”

  “Fine,” he says. “But you’ll need to put some pants on. I’ll be in the living room.” He turns and walks away.

  When Kane leaves, Wesley’s body language relaxes, and his face softens. He lets go of the towel that’s only being held together by the angry pinch of his fingers, and it drops to the floor in a heap. He walks to the bed, completely naked, and sits on the edge by me. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m good, don’t worry,” I say, placing my hand gently on his face, as he leans down to take my mouth in a sweet kiss. “We were just talking.”

  “Talking,” he repeats sarcastically, “with you naked and lying on my bed while I’m in the shower?”

  “I didn’t start the conversation, don’t be mad at me.”

  “I’m not mad at you,” he says, “I can’t imagine getting mad at you. But it’s still weird as hell.”

  “More for me than you, I think.”

  “I’d agree with that. But Kane can be really . . . odd.”

  “You seem really different from him,” I say. “And if that little thing that just happened is any indication, different is a good thing.”

  “Kane’s three years younger than me, and he’s every bit the younger brother,” he explains. “He’s impulsive, and very full of himself.”