by Jane Radford
“James,” I try again, his finger still sliding in and out of me. “Fuck me.”
“Mmm,” he purrs, “as you wish.”
He snatches me off the table and flips me over his shoulder. I squeal as he heads to the stairs, springing up them two at a time and practically sprinting down to his bedroom. He throws me on the bed and snatches a condom from his nightstand.
I'm giggling as I hit the soft bedding. He bites and spits the torn foil from his mouth.
“Allow me,” I try to look serious as I scoot back toward him. He hands the condom over, expecting me to slip it on for him, but I toss it aside on the bed instead, going for his jeans without it. I pop the button and unzip his pants, pulling them down past his thighs. I grin, pleased with the girth and length of his cock.
“What are you up to, Miss Henton?” James gazes down at me, hopeful.
“Trouble,” and I wrap my hand around his shaft and my lips around the head of his penis. His sharp intake of air is all I need to get me to glide him the rest of the way into my mouth, taking in as much as I can fit. Forcing him in to the back of my throat.
“Alex,” his voice is reverent. His hands come to the back of my head to guide my mouth along his length. He tastes so good. He is so smooth.
One of my hands moves to rest against his thigh, the other comes up to fondle his balls. He breathes harder as my tongue strokes him, wrapping around his head and then swirling back downward.
“If you keep this up I won't get the chance to fuck you.”
When I look up from my task, his lips are parted, his eyes are closed as he enjoys my work. I want to feel him come in my mouth, I really want to taste him, but I want him inside of me even more.
I reach back for the condom without breaking contact with my tongue. He slides against me, I'm reaching, he slides out and I break contact to slip the rubber over him. I gaze up into his adoring expression as I roll it over his shaft.
His eyes flash open and he blinks down at me. He takes my chin in one hand. “What would you like, Alex?”
I bite my lower lip. “Fuck me, please.”
He grins. “I have no idea what I did to deserve you.”
He bends to lay me back onto the bed. He throws my legs over one shoulder and slides into the slick warmth between.
My eyes drift closed and I'm lost in the glorious sensation.
Chapter 12
I've never felt such post-coital anxiety before. I was more than satisfied, I made certain Alex was satisfied. But I pull her close, facing me, pulling the comforter around both of us. I feel terrified. This pixy, this imp, she does not belong to me. I found her in my woods, and I can feel her need to return to them.
Alex's head nuzzles into my chest. “Thank you,” she breathes into my skin.
I squeeze her tighter against me, pressing my lips into her hair. I want so badly for her to be mine, but I think of her last boyfriend, of the extents he must have gone to terrorize her. My expression hardens.
“Tell me about your ex,” I regret the request the moment I make it. I would do anything to hold on to this moment, and I more than likely just broke it.
Alex, my goddess, she turns onto her stomach and stretches her arms lazily above her head. All limbs, like a cat. She turns her head at me when she is finished, a slight quirk to her lips. “I have a number of exes, you will have to be more specific.”
“I'd like to hear about them all,” I run my fingers through her soft hair. “At least, the ones that retain any importance to you.” I'm fighting the urge to make love to her again instead of carrying on with the conversation.
Alex gives me a look that tells me she could stay. That I could convince her to remain here forever and says, “None retain any importance to me.”
“I see,” this warms my heart and I can't help myself as I move the comforter down, exposing her beautiful back. Her skin is pale silk that I can't seem to keep my hands off of. “I guess what I am really after is the man who attempted to harm you.” I think kill, I think murder, I think of the flames of a small home and my blood boils, but all I can utter in reference to Alex is 'harm,' because anything beyond that is unspeakable.
Alex frowns, and I trail my fingertips over her bare back. My touch seems to sooth her, and her eyes close a moment as she phrases her reply.
“Jaren was the type who was always the life of the party. He could be funny, but his jokes were usually crude or at someone else's expense. He liked sports and cars.” Alex rolls her eyes. I smile, that's pretty typical for a guy. “A few months ago I caught him with his pants around his ankles and his best friend on her knees in front of him.”
“That reminds me of Catherine,” I say. My fingers never stop their steady path up and down Alex's spine.
“We should set them up, I think they would be perfect for each other.”
“I'll go grab her number,” I move to leave, and Alex stops me from my feigned exit.
She clamps a hand on my wrist before I can go and I come right back to her. I love that she is assertive. I snuggle right back up against her body.
“Tell me,” my hand returns to Alex's back, where it belongs. “How did this guy progress from adulterous fellatio to arson?”
Alex stiffens again, and I wait for her to relax beneath my fingers. I don't goad her into confession, I wait for her to come to me, I wait until she is ready. After a minute of silence, she speaks.
“He kept hounding me, he was so persistent. He had to get back together with me.” She shifts away from my touch, and I let her go. “He began breaking into my home, sneaking into my room at night, following me to both of my jobs. I started sleeping at my friend's place to get away from him.”
I exhale warily. I want to reach out for her, I want to touch and comfort her, but even more so, I want to hunt this man down. My thoughts have grown dark and my mind ventures down the homicidal path I'd rather not have exist inside me.
“I was so tired of him, I was so tired of being afraid to go home, I lied to Jaren.” Alex shrugs helplessly. “I told him I had found someone new in hopes that he would finally leave me alone.”
From here I can see where her story is leading. I reach for her, against my better judgment, and she shies away from my touch.
“That night I had switched shifts at the diner, and by the time I got home that morning, my house was in flames.” Alex no longer looks at me. Her eyes have glazed over, remembering the pain and the fear that her ex had dragged her through.
I've never despised someone while feeling so eternally indebted to them in my life. If it weren't for this garbage of a man, Alex wouldn't have gone through this trauma, but if it hadn't been for him, she wouldn't have been driven to my home. To me.
“I can live without that house,” Alex fights through a strangled voice, “but the worst part is the thought of his hands on me, as though he has corrupted me—tainted me to the point that I am ruined for anyone else.”
She turns her head from me, and I've heard enough. When I reach out for her this time, I don't let her turn me away. I pull her to me and I squeeze her tight. My enchantress has been wounded, and I want only to fix her.
“I see none of him on this skin,” I lift her chin to press my lips to hers. I turn her onto her back and roll on top of her. “Where is this ex you speak of?” I lean back, my knees between her legs while she remains laying. I look down at her, my eyes trail down her chest, over her perfect breasts and flat stomach. “I see only perfection.”
My hands move from her ankles and up to her thighs. “Show me where you claim to house this corruption.” I spread her legs apart and she can't help a soft laugh. She is everything I have ever wanted. I bend down to kiss up her inner thigh. I stop just over her perfect vee. At my expression, her smile fades into something more serious.
“The only thing I can find is flawless skin over an immaculate body.”
I'm rewarded by her gasp as my tongue strokes along her vagina. Her marvelous vagina. How dare she label herself as
sullied—as marred and imperfect. My tongue finds its way deeper inside of her, and she moans. Her taste alone is enough to drive me over the edge. I detach myself just long enough to suck onto her clit, teasing her with the tip of my tongue. She arches into me, panting, wanting more.
I breathe into her. “Beautiful Alexandria, perfect Alexandria, don't ever believe that you are anything less than perfect.”
Her body quivers against my mouth. I can feel her nearing the edge, and I am to sweep her over it. “Come for me.” Right as I command it, she calls out my name, she comes.
Her body tremors as my mouth is flooded with her exquisite taste. I pull her pelvis tightly into me, striving to reach as deep into her as I can possibly manage. She is divine, the way she pulses over my tongue, tightening and sucking me deeper. My cock longs for the sensation of her.
“James,” Alex summons me. I lift myself back, tearing myself away from the heaven nestled within her succulent thighs. She gazes at me longingly. I want her so badly, I can't bury myself inside of her fast enough.
“I'll do anything,” I confess. We have only just met, but she owns me. She owns every bit of me. I am hers to control. I run the back of my fingertips along her cheek. “Tell me what you want.”
“I just want you,” she whispers.
I groan. I just want her. I just want to keep her. I snatch a condom from my nightstand and don't bother letting her slip it on for me. At this point, any contact from her would send me over the edge. Like a teenage boy, I would be lost the moment her hands found me.
I unfurl the condom over my cock and position myself at her opening. Alex is biting her lip again, staring at me, ready for me to penetrate her.
“Is this what you want?” I tease her with the head of my erection.
“Yes,” she pants.
“What was that, Alex?” I press the head of my penis into her.
“Y-YES!” she stammers just as I slam home, from head to hilt, as deep as she will allow.
She cries out, arching her back, her breasts perfect points, her arms out. I can already feel my orgasm coming, rearing up. It starts to build. My balls tighten. It builds. My cock slides in and then out of her tight, little slit. It builds and then, I break. My release crashes over me and I'm lost. I'm lost in her.
I am lost in my woodland goddess.
Chapter 13
“Have dinner with me.” James issues his request with his face lost in my hair.
I slide my hand over his six-pack, up his chest, his neck, his stubbled jaw. “I can't stay.”
My heart breaks as his arms squeeze tighter around me. He inhales me, inhales every last bit of me. Pulling me tighter he pleads, “Just tonight.” His teeth find my earlobe. “Just give me tonight.”
I just want him. I want to keep him. I want him to keep me. Why did I have to find him the moment I was trying to find myself?
I placed my dreams on hold when my grandparents died, giving me my home. I spent years there because of Kara, because I love her and I wanted to live near her. And I stayed permanently because of Jaren, because he wouldn't hear about me exploring the world and seizing my future.
I have always been a pushover, I've always let myself be ruled by someone else. But I want this too. My thumb grazes James' lower lip. I want just a little bit more. “You have tonight.”
His pleasure is self-evident. I can feel him grow hard against me once more, he squeezes me so tight it's almost painful. I can feel his grin against my neck.
“You have made me the happiest man alive,” James pushes up from the bed. His erection ignored. “What do you want for dinner?”
I shrug. I'm just pleased to see him so happy.
“No,” James regards me, looks me up and down. He grabs my face in both of his large hands. “I know what I'll do, I'll make you pizza.” He presses his mouth to mine, fast. “I've got to fatten you up before you leave.” And then he turns to go.
He swiftly turns back to grab my face again, however, mushing his lips against mine. My mouth parts to allow him entry and his tongue surges into mine. His full erection taps against my arm.
“Mmm,” he groans against my lips. “You will not deter me, temptress.” He detaches himself from me. I'm so cold without his warmth.
He fishes out another one of his t-shirts for me from one of his drawers, and I hold my arms up for him to roll it over me.
“Come,” he grins. He is still gloriously naked, fully erect, gorgeous. “I want your company.”
He grabs some loose-fitting, drawstring linen pants from the second drawer down. His pants, my shirt—together we almost complete an outfit. He pulls the slacks on and takes my hand. I want to go wherever this amazing man leads me.
James guides me down the walkway, then the stairs, into the kitchen. “I hope you like pizza.”
“I love pizza.”
He grins and his hand slips from mine to start preparing our meal. “Good, I make the best.”
I take a seat at the island, watching this mastodon traipse through the kitchen like a god. Pulling things from his cupboards and tossing them onto the counter. He is so graceful and confident. He knows exactly what he is doing to me. I could never get enough of watching him cook. I never knew something so mundane could be so damn sexy.
“Can I help?” Though I enjoy the show, I suddenly realize he is doing all the work.
“Absolutely not,” James scoops some flour from a bag, “But if you care to tell me more about yourself...”
“What would you like to know?” I'll tell you anything.
James tosses some salt in with the flour then heads for the fridge. “Tell me more about your job. You know, before your piece of shit ex-boyfriend burned down your home and you decided to trek across the country.” He stops what he is doing to grab a couple glasses and a fresh bottle of wine. He opens a drawer and withdraws a corkscrew. He opens the bottle and pours a glass. “Wine?”
“Yes, please.” Alcohol is always appreciated when I'm forced to speak about myself.
He hands me the glass and says, “So?”
I take a sip of my wine first. “Well,” as the taste of my drink bursts over my tongue I stop to look at the bottle. Lafite Rothschild. The last wine I'd purchased was blackberry flavored at six dollars a bottle.
I take another sip. This is exquisite. I notice the date on the label reads 1976 and I almost spit out a darkly colored bouquet of cedarwood, spices and ripe fruit that are over a decade older than I am. “How much is this wine!?”
James only shrugs, “It's one of my favorites.”
I point to the open bottle, “That is probably worth more than my car.” I take another tentative sip. I hate that it tastes so good. “I no longer want to give you details about what I did for a living.”
“Please,” James grabs the wine with a flour covered hand and pours himself a glass. “I'll hide the bottle if it makes you feel better.”
That doesn't make me feel better, nothing will help, I know the wine is still cycling through my digestive system, all delicious and unfathomably expensive.
“No, sir,” I can't stop myself, I take another sip from my glass, “the damage is done. My past will remain a mystery until you care to explain to me how you can afford wasting this deliciously expensive wine on a girl like me.”
“Wasting?” James stops his kneading to look up at me. He arches an eyebrow and I fight the urge to down the rest of my glass. “Miss Henton, anything you accept from me could never be considered a waste.”
I'm about to say something that, I hope, would come off as snarky and intelligent, but my phone lights up and I realize that I'd forgotten all about calling Kara.
“Oh, bugger.” I hop up from my bar stool and go after the device.
“Sorry,” I say when I notice James' attention, “my best friend was adamant about our constant contact, I really should call her.” I make a move to leave out the back door.
“Of course,” but instead of letting me go, James abandons his dough, com
es to me and grabs a fistful of my shirt. I hold my breath, this close to me, there is only one line of thinking that can surface in my mind. I place the palm of my hand on his abdomen, as he leans into me his flesh is unyielding. “Take your time,” his lips graze mine. “but come back to me.” His lips meld with mine and I am devoured. He pulls me into his embrace and I sink farther into him. I can feel his growing arousal against my hip.
“I will return, sir,” I murmur against his mouth, “I swear.”
James holds me tighter, squeezing me to him. His flour covered hands leave ghostly hand prints all along his dark t-shirt. Nothing but my shirt and his slacks separate us from each other. Behind us the pizza dough is ready to rise.
“I'm holding you to that,” James nips at my lower lip before releasing me. “Besides, I'll hold your backpack hostage until tomorrow morning.”
He pinches my bottom as I turn to head out the door. When I narrow my eyes back at him, biting my lip, he wears a mischievous grin. The look makes me want to jump him all over again, but first things first. I force my feet to continue forward, every step bringing me farther from James. I need to call Kara.
I open the double-doors and I'm greeted by warm, mountain air. I glance behind me and James is still staring at me hungrily. “One moment,” I mouth at him as I hold up a singular finger. It takes all my willpower to close the door behind me instead of running back and jumping into James' waiting arms.
I locate Kara's information out of my contacts and press 'call.'
She answers on the first ring, “Where the hell have you been?!”
“I'm fine!” I reassure her.
“I have been worried sick about you, young lady.” I can imagine the terse expression Kara is making on the other end of our conversation. “Leaving out the mad-man that burned your house down, there are natural disasters, wolves, serial killers...” she pauses to think, “broken ankles, bears, and poisonous spiders!”
“I miss you too, my phone died.” I stare back into James' giant mansion. It's warm and inviting. It beckons me to return to him. “Listen, I'm going to get something to eat.” As I say this, I'm thinking of James, not food.
