by Shaye Marlow
Then he crawled in under the netting next to me. He lifted me further up the bed, and then sat me up and pulled my shirt off over my head, undressing me as if I were a child.
Er—not so much like a child. As soon as he revealed my breasts in their lacy cups, he was cupping me with his callused hands, his thumbs caressing the upper slopes. Then he bent and brushed his stubbled cheek along the same path, making me shiver. He dragged down one cup and laid a long, wet lick across my hardened nipple.
I could feel my womb tightening. I knew if I let him continue on this course, I’d be a blubbering, pleasure-drunk idiot within a matter of minutes. And that’s not what I wanted. So I pushed him away.
He fell back onto his ass on the bed, leaning back on one hand, blinking at me in a way that said he’d been into what he’d been doing just as much as I had. “Wha—?” he started.
I pushed him again, leaning into it. He resisted at first—and I resolved to trace each and every one of those abs with my tongue, later—but he finally let me push him onto his back.
He started to speak again, and I held out a hand like a traffic cop. “Stay,” I commanded.
His brows climbed, and he looked to be right on the edge of disobeying, but I think my reaching back for my bra clasp was the magic ingredient. He watched my breasts bob free with a hungry expression. When he reached for them, I slapped his hand, and I knew that’d done it. His eyes flared, and those abs tensed up—
But then I leaned down, and licked across the head of his cock. Yeah, he rethought fighting me real fast. Now, I could have played with him, could have teased him, but I’m not a real patient person. So after a few experimental licks in which I tasted myself and sampled the flavor of his precum, I jumped right in, feet-first, just like I do everything else.
I slid my mouth and tongue up and down on him, taking as much as I could handle. I tilted my head a bit to watch him as I did so, and if I’d been able to smile with a cock in my mouth, I would have.
He looked absolutely ragged, his face flushed, his eyes dark. His chest heaved, and he had two big handfuls of the comforter. His hips nudged upward to meet each of my mouth’s downward slides. The sight of him being driven wild, and the taste of him—the combined taste of us, really—and the thick intrusion of him bumping my throat, made my pussy burn.
He reached for me again, and I didn’t know what he was gonna do—play with my breasts or pull me around so he could do naughty things to my backside again, maybe—but I did know that if I let him, I’d be distracted from my course. Remember the pleasure-drunk idiot? Yeah, I didn’t really multitask in bed.
My current ‘task’ was to make him cum. I wanted him to cum in my mouth, and I wanted to watch the expression on his face as he did so.
So I resisted as he wrapped a hand around my thigh and tugged.
“Helly,” he said.
I pulled up off him and said, “Just…let me.” Then I licked my way down his shaft and sucked one of his balls into my mouth.
He grabbed the comforter again, his thighs flexing under my forearm. “Fuck,” he gasped.
Cussing, though: Cussing was allowed.
His balls were drawing up fast, and the other refused to be coaxed into my mouth. I licked across his puckered flesh, and up his rampant cock to engulf the angry head again. I sucked him hard, sliding the flat of my tongue along the underside, watching him fall apart under me.
I’d always found it hard to study someone else’s pleasure when they were driving me out of my mind—or, hell, maybe I just hadn’t wanted to—but I loved watching Gary climb toward that peak. His erection got even thicker and heavier in my mouth, the little tastes of salty precum coming more frequently. His muscles were doing this breathtaking rippling thing, and he was watching my mouth on his dick with rapt attention.
I pulled back enough to show him a flash of pink tongue flicking around his head, and his low moan seemed to resonate somewhere deep inside me. I didn’t really know what was going on. Honestly, sucking cock wasn’t my favorite thing. It’d been a chore with my previous boyfriends, but with Gary? It seemed to be its own reward. Sucking him was making me hotter, and wetter, than my previous boyfriends ever had with their best efforts.
“Helly,” he rasped. It was the same word, but the tone was different again. This one was warning, and desperation, hope, and maybe even a teensy bit of gentle fondness.
“Go ahead,” I whispered, concentrating on the tip of his dick. I cupped his balls, stroking those, too.
“I’m gonna—”
“I know,” I said, meeting his eyes so he knew that I knew exactly what he was saying. “Go ahead,” I repeated. Then, still meeting his gaze, I plunged down on him, taking as much of him as I could, feeling him nudge into my throat.
“Fuck!” he said again.
I sucked him hard, loving the way he gasped. He was quivering—yeah, I’d reduced Gary to quivering—and he groaned as his hips bucked up, pushing him into me. His cock jerked, and I felt the first warm gush in the back of my mouth. I swallowed him down, and the next, and the next, watching him do the Gary version of the drooling idiot.
I loved it. I think I was finally ready to admit that to myself. I loved being with him, loved every moment of it. It was better than any of my sex scenes, by far. It was more even than the details; more than the salty taste of him on my tongue, more than his ragged little sounds of pleasure—which I also loved.
There was something that went beyond pure physical lust here. There was a warmth, a connection. Some something that felt light and bright and happy in my chest, a sense of utter completion when I looked into his gorgeous green eyes.
I was in so much trouble here.
Gary surged upward suddenly, and pulled me up off his cock. He bore me backward even as his mouth covered mine. His kiss was hard, passionate. I wrapped my arms around his neck, welcoming him, loving that he didn’t seem to mind the taste of himself.
He was moving slightly in my hold, his shoulders flexing against my arms, and then he was yanking at my skirt. I wanted to laugh, because the stubborn thing had stayed on through two bouts of mind-numbing sex, but his tongue was a pretty effective gag. I moaned instead, and lifted my butt up to help him as much as I could. Then I bent my knees so he could slide it off without pulling away.
He pushed me flat again, and then nudged his way between my legs. His hips pushed down against mine, and he lowered his upper body until my breasts were squashed beneath his chest. Then, as if having me pinned beneath him soothed his urgency, his kiss gentled somewhat.
His tongue became playful, flicking against mine, tracing my lower lip. His hands roamed down my sides as if trying to memorize the feel of my ribcage, my waist. One tucked under me to squeeze my ass in a way that had me hooking my leg over his hip, whimpering into his mouth. He’d gotten me all hot and bothered with that blowjob, and now it looked like he was going to tease me.
But of course he was. This was Gary. The only way this could be more like him was if he teased me loudly.
He finally pulled his mouth away entirely, chuckling when I lifted up to try to recapture it. His eyes gleamed in the low light, his fingers doing a little dance across the side of my breast. “Where are your brothers?” he asked.
Uggghh. I didn’t want to talk about my brothers. I had a hot, naked man on top of me, and who knew how much time we had left before the terrible trio got back from their macho mission. What I wanted was to start stuffing some of my empty holes… raunchy, I know.
But that hot, naked man wasn’t giving in to my tugging, and he had a brow raised in question. He even took the hand that’d been toying with my breast away, telling me clear as day that if I didn’t answer, I wouldn’t be getting any more.
“They went hunting,” I said. I sighed with pleasure when he started petting me again.
“Hunting?”
“They went after a bear. It got into my freezer this morning. And it sorta, kinda charged me the other day.”
His
hand stopped. “What?”
I explained about the damn bear as I wiggled under him. I would have even settled for a thigh to grind up against. I just needed…a little bit more. I massaged his shoulders, trying to disguise the fact that I was trying to push him downward.
“So you sent your brothers after a rogue bear, and took the opportunity to run over here and jump me, hmm?” He nudged his mouth in near my ear, kissing and nibbling in a way that made me shiver.
I’d never felt such a sustained burn of arousal with my few other lovers. All Gary had to do was look at me, just blow a warm gust of breath across my neck… If he’d been upright, I would have climbed him like a tree. But he still had me pinned, and I think he was being willfully oblivious to my plight.
It was almost painful, this teasing. All he had to do was slide his hand down; just a couple touches of his fingers against my clit, and my suffering would be ended. But of course he didn’t.
“So tell me about you,” he said as he kissed his way down my neck. When I didn’t answer after a few moments, he stopped.
I groaned. I was finding out pleasure deprivation was a helluva interrogation technique.
“What do you want to know?” I managed to ask. My body was alive with tingles, making it hard to think.
“Are your parents still alive?”
He had me pinned under him and he wanted to talk about my parents? This was even worse than talking about my brothers. But he stopped his kisses again—this time he was tracing them along my collarbones—and I was forced to answer.
“Yes,” I gasped.
He still didn’t kiss me. I assumed he was waiting for more. “They’re alive and well, they live in Palmer,” I said, tugging his head back down.
He laughed against my skin, and his hand found my breast again.
“Oh…God,” I said, arching up into that wonderful touch.
“Is that where you grew up?” he asked between trailing kisses down my chest.
“Yessss,” I hissed as his stubble brushed the inner curves of my breasts. My skin broke out in gooseflesh, and I pressed my heels into his lower back.
He pinched my nipple, increasing the pressure until I dug my nails into him. “Why’d they name you Helly?” he asked.
“They didn’t. It’s Haley.” His thumb started to do these little nipple circles, side-tracking me. It was only when he quit and looked up at me expectantly that I realized he wanted more. “It got perverted when the brothers couldn’t pronounce it,” I said. And it was fitting, so it stuck.
“Middle name?”
I groaned. “I hate my middle name.”
“Everybody hates their middle name,” he said. “Spit it out.”
“Jolene,” I growled.
He chuckled. “Helly-Jo,” he mused.
“Only if you want to die.”
“Age?” he asked, somehow managing to get even nosier. He had licked a spot close to my areola and was blowing a cool stream of air across it.
“Twenty-five.”
“Did you go to college?” he asked. I barely heard him past the shockwaves he was generating with his soft-then-hard touches. He kept smoothing his hand around, barely touching me, almost tickling, and then he’d deliver a firm squeeze or rub or pinch that told me exactly what he could be doing.
“Two years,” I said. “I didn’t want to leave state, and U of A didn’t have a lot I was interested in.”
“Because you’re interested in fishing. And sex,” he said.
More or less. The way that word sounded issuing from between his scrumptious lips made my eyes nearly roll back in my head.
He took my nipple in his mouth, and I almost came off the bed. He sucked it and licked it, and flicked with his hot, wet tongue, making me practically cry with need. I had big handfuls of his thick black hair, and my legs moved restlessly along the outsides of his. My pussy was dripping; I could feel myself making a wet spot on his blanket. I needed him inside me, pretty damn urgently.
“Please,” I moaned.
His mouth popped free. “What’s your favorite color?” he asked.
“Fucking hell!” I panted. “Red!” This man was going to drive me to an early grave.
“Favorite movie?”
I groaned. “What is this, a date?”
He pulled his mouth free again, and I glanced down to find him looking at me. His lips were wet and reddened, and he had one brow raised in a look that said ‘What? You want me to stop?’
“Son-of-a-bitch.” I hadn’t been calling him one, but he nipped me anyway, making me jump. “Kill Bill,” I said.
His laughter shook the bed. Which was irritating, because every moment he was laughing, his lips and tongue weren’t at work. I wished I had a whip.
“How can you expect me to give you all this info when you won’t give any yourself?” I groused.
“Hmm.” His hand was drifting lower, making me oh-so-hopeful. “Parents are alive. Missoula, Montana. Thirty-one. Didn’t go to college. Green—”
“Your middle name,” I said. “You skipped your middle name, you cheat. And why don’t you give me your last, while you’re at it.” Was it irresponsible of me not to have gathered the last name of my lover? Probably.
He grimaced. “Middle’s Gabriel. First is actually Gareth. Last is,” he sighed, “Sweet.”
I waited for it, this sweet last name of his. I raised my brows.
“Sweet. My last name is Sweet. Gareth Gabriel Sweet.”
Oh, this was good. This was better than Jolene. “Sweet? I bet that was a fun name to have in the military. ‘Get down and gimme fifty, Sweet’,” I mocked.
He nipped me again. “And for the movie,” he said, “Full Metal Jacket.”
I didn’t know what that was, but it sounded like a guy flick.
His hand paused. “You haven’t watched it?”
Was I really so transparent? I shook my head, desperately hoping he’d put his mouth to better use than talking about movies.
“You’ll like it. There’s lots of cussing. And you’re gonna watch it with me someday; that’s a date.”
I swallowed hard, looking into his eyes. Did that mean this was more than just sex to him, too?
He put his mouth back on me, running his tongue over my hardened nipples until I was blowing hard, my hips undulating under him. “I wonder if I can make you cum just from this,” he said. Yeah, he’d probably caught on to the fact that every time he put his mouth on my breasts, I detonated.
And yeah, that’d be fun…but I didn’t want to go that way. I wanted him inside me, wanted him to relieve that empty ache that seemed to grow the longer he was away.
“I need you,” I said, my voice pleading, trying to express this raging mountain of need in three little words, willing him to understand.
He was hard again; I felt him pressing into my thigh.
“You need me?” He sounded kinda surprised, kinda pleased, kinda amused.
I nodded. “Inside me. Please.”
“‘Please’? You must want it bad.”
I was nodding hard before he even finished speaking.
“You know, that word sounds real pretty coming from you,” he said. “Can I hear it one more time?”
He was doing it again, pulling that power play crap. And maybe usually I would have told him to eat shit and die. But not right now. Right now, he had me by the short hairs. I was so far gone, I didn’t give a damn. I wanted what he could give me, and I’d beg, if that’s what he wanted.
“Please,” I repeated.
“Since you asked so nicely.” He pushed up onto his knees, and groped around on the bed until he found the condom packet. My heart was thudding as I met his gaze, as I watched him tear it open, and roll the condom down over himself.
And the bastard knew exactly how much I wanted him—damn my transparent face—because he did it all so slowly. And smugly. Watching me spread my legs for him with half-lidded eyes. He was all suited up and ready to go—and then he paused.
&
nbsp; “How do you want it?” he asked.
“Inside me,” I said with deadly sweetness. My sass definitely came and went.
“I’ll let you try that again,” he said. “How do you want it? And say please.”
I don’t know why this poured out of my mouth. After all, what I wanted was for him to fuck the hell out of me until I didn’t even know my own name. Maybe I thought it’d be a challenge for him; maybe I thought it was the opposite of what he wanted.
I don’t know, but what I said was: “Slow. Please.”
Why did I say that? Because do you know what he did?
The fucker made love to me.
Chapte
r Eighteen
I don’t think this had ever happened to me before. I had sex. I fucked. I even screwed and got laid and…well, you get the idea. But slow? Gentle? In a way I actually liked? As a man held my gaze, and held me so close I could tell he only wanted me closer, and kissed me softly, with a lingering sweetness I’d probably be grinning about for days?
That shit didn’t happen to Helly. But today…this morning—or it might have been afternoon by now—it surely did.
Have you ever had one of those epiphanies that sort of redefines things for you? Of course you have. Like the moment you realize your own mortality, or that demand determines price; something big.
Well, this was like that, except what I realized was that maybe there was somebody out there for me; somebody that got me, somebody that spoke my language, somebody that jived with my particular brand of crazy. And maybe, just maybe, that somebody was my loud-ass neighbor.
Suddenly I was thinking really, really hard about Suzy’s suggestion. Keep him.
It was in the aftermath of this colossal revelation, as I lay there under him wondering what the hell I was supposed to say after someone so totally rocked my world, that he lifted his head.
I talk about getting lost in Gary’s eyes a lot, but that’s exactly what happens. I get utterly sidetracked, I lose track of time. I forget to breathe.
His hand came up to cradle my cheek as his eyes searched mine. His mouth opened, and I knew he was about to say something earth-shattering.
