And then, abruptly, he pulls out, leaving me fighting for balance and for breath. “Fuck…Adam, why’d you stop?”
“Because I’m not ready to come yet.” He growls this, and I can tell whatever game he’s playing is costing him in terms of control. He wants to come, and I know he was getting close, but he stopped anyway.
He steps into the tub, helps me in, and then he’s lowering himself down and settling me between his thighs, and I’m relaxing against his chest. The hot water swirls around us, bubbles popping and tickling. The sudden heat is relaxing, an abrupt about-face from the frenetic urgency of my climax, which still shudders through me.
But Adam isn’t done with me, it seems. We sit in stillness and silence for a few minutes, just long enough for the aftershocks of my orgasm to fade and his erection to subside a bit, and then his hand cradles my stomach just above my pussy, his other hand smearing soapy water across my torso, cupping my boobs and caressing them and fondling them, pinching and rolling my nipples until I’m biting my lip and squirming. And then his hand slips between my thighs, covers my pussy, and his long middle finger slides in.
He massages my clit slowly, so slowly, god, so slowly. Maddeningly slowly. It takes him several minutes to bring me to quivering completion, writhing against his middle finger, just that one inside me, circling my clit and then fucking my entrance, alternating in an arrhythmic pattern.
I come with a sigh, and then he’s lifting me by the ass and I’m impaled on him, sitting on him. His knees are spread apart to bear my weight, the water sloshing around us, spilling out. His hands find mine, guide my fingers to my clit, and urge me to touch myself. So I do, and aftershocks become the precursors to something else, something bigger, and his hands are at my tits, holding on and kneading and caressing, and all I can do is ride his thrusts and let him fuck me however he wants.
“Come again, Destiny. Right now.” His command works like a trigger.
I come again, hard. And this time, I scream.
As soon as the initial wave of climax leaves me, he’s lifting me and sliding out of me, groaning and moving shakily, as if the effort to withhold his own orgasm is nearly too much.
“Adam, what game are you playing? Just come, baby,” I tell him, watching from my place in tub as he turns on the shower.
He shakes his head. “Not yet.”
He hands me up and out of the tub, leads me to the shower, and washes me. He wets my hair, lathers shampoo from scalp to tip, rinses, works conditioner in, and then his hands are scrubbing a bar of soap across my skin. I can’t not touch him, so my hands roam his shoulders, slip over the hard muscles sheathed in smooth dark skin, down to his erection, which I caress until he forces my hand away. He washes every inch of me, and then lets me do the same to him.
I run the bar of soap over his stomach, down his hips, then fall to my knees and wash his legs, and take his cock in my mouth. He lets me fondle him with my lips and tongue for a few moments, and then he’s pulling me away and pressing me against the shower wall, kissing me until I’m breathless. He kisses me beneath the spray of hot water as if I’m oxygen and he’s drowning.
“Jesus, Adam. I’m here, baby. I’m here.” I hold his cheek, water splattering off his scalp and onto my face.
He just smiles at me and shuts off the water. “Are you ready for phase two?”
I grip his cock. “So ready.”
He grin turns lust-hot. “That’s not phase two. You remember what phase two is?”
I pretend to think. “Something about eating me out, right?”
He pulls me out of the shower and wraps a towel around me, scrubs me dry as if I’m helpless to do so myself. “Until you can’t breathe, yeah.”
I return the favor, drying him off. And then I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and kiss him the way he kissed me, as if I can’t exist without his mouth on mine. “I already can’t breathe, Adam. Being with you is so…intense…so much…that it’s hard to breathe with wanting it to never end.”
His expression turns serious, thoughtful, as he leads me to the bedroom, lifts me in his arms as if I’m nothing, and lays me on the bed. “It doesn’t have to, Destiny.”
I never thought I’d say this, but I love the way my name sounds when he says it.
Shit. I just thought the “L” word.
And, somehow, it’s not as scary as it used to be.
Chapter 16
I see something in her eyes, some thought she doesn’t share. It’s not a look of fear, or nerves, or anything I recognize. It seems more like a realization.
I don’t ask, I just slide my face across her stomach, rub my cheek against her inner thigh, bury my face in her core, inhale the scent of her arousal, flick my tongue out and taste her essence. She groans, lets her knees fall open, and writhes her hips. I take my time, wiggling my tongue in slow circles around her clit until she’s gasping, her stomach tensing and relaxing with each scrape of my tongue tip against her hardened nub. And when I think she’s starting to get close, I suction my lips around her clit and work my tongue back and forth until she’s moaning and breathless.
“Yes, yes…” she groans, lifting her hips to grind against my mouth. “I’m there, I’m so close, Adam…”
And that’s my cue. I slide up her body, kissing her skin as I go, stomach, ribs, tits, neck, then lips. I align myself with her, nestle my cock against her soft folds, and slide in. She inhales as I slide home, and her heels go around my ass. I give her a slow stroke, two, a third, and then I pause, buried deep, and take a moment to lave her nipples with my tongue until she urges me to move by digging her heels into my ass.
I thrust and thrust and thrust, and she’s whimpering and gasping and shrieking in the back of her throat.
“Tell me when you’re coming, Des. Say my name when you come.” I whisper this in her ear, and she nods.
I’m close myself, but I clamp down and force it away, force my thrusts to go slow and even.
And then she’s arching her back. “Adam, god…Jesus, oh fuck I’m coming, Adam!”
I wrench myself out of her and go to my knees between her thighs and suck her clit into my mouth and work it with my tongue until she’s thrashing and I have to wrap my arms around her thighs hold her still. She grabs my head in both hands and crushes me against her pussy as I suck and lick her, her hips moving wildly to fuck my face.
And then she’s slowing and her breathless screams turn to relieved sighs.
Which is my next cue.
I slide back up and enter her, and now she forces her eyes open and watches me. “Holy shit, Adam. Are you trying to kill me? I’m not sure I can take another orgasm.”
“I think you can,” I tell her.
She shakes her head. “No. I can’t.”
I thrust slowly, levered over her. “You can.” I touch my lips to hers, briefly. “Touch your tits. Grab ’em, baby. Let me see you play with those big titties of yours.”
She cups her tits in both hands and pinches her nipples between finger and thumb. Her mouth falls open and her eyes go wide. “Like this?”
I groan. “Yeah, baby. Lick one for me.”
She lifts one of her tits to her mouth and extends her tongue, flicks it across an erect pink nipple, a sigh escaping as she does so. “That turn you on, Tory? Watching me touch myself and lick myself?”
“Yeah it does,” I murmur.
She starts to move with me, now, meeting me thrust for thrust. “I like watching you, too. Will you let me watch you jerk off?”
I grin at her. “Maybe.”
“What if I let you jerk off onto my tits?”
I feel my balls clench as I imagine that. “Fuck yeah.” I dip down to kiss her, slipping my tongue between her lips.
She sweeps her tongue across my lips. “You taste like my pussy.”
“So does my cock,” I tell her.
She pushes me off her, hooks a leg around mine and twists so I’m on my back. I let her, and then I’m breathless as she bends ove
r me and runs her tongue up the length of my cock from balls to tip. “Mmmmm. Yeah, you do.” She licks me again, and then twists her head sideways to slide her lips up my length, and then gets to my head and licks that too, swiping her tongue over it and swirling and licking until her essence is gone and only her saliva remains.
And then she’s off me, lying back down on her back with her heels drawn up against the backs of her thighs to spread her pussy apart for me. “Eat me, baby. Lick me until I scream.” She drags her finger through her slit and it comes away coated.
Jesus. I’m not sure I can wait any longer. I’ve been on the verge of coming for so long now it hurts, my balls ache from the come boiling inside me.
She holds her finger out to me, and I close my lips around it, tasting her essence, and then I lower myself between her sweet plump soft muscular thighs once more, taste her juices on my tongue and lap at her relentlessly until she’s gripping my hair in her fists and fucking my face with desperate thrusts of her hips, coming, coming.
And I’m in her.
And this time, there’ll be no stopping. God no. The games are over.
She hooks her heels together around my back, snakes her arms around my neck, and grinds her hips against me, her lips at my ear. “Don’t stop this time, baby. Come for me. Come in me. Let me feel you shoot your load inside me.” Her voice is a constant whisper of exhortation in my ear as I feel her pussy clench around me. “Yes, god yes…you feel so good, Adam. Keep fucking me.”
I’m grunting and groaning and thrusting with slow, hard movements, trying to make it last. I don’t want this to end, this feeling of perfection, this feeling of completion. She’s wrapped around me, tangled up in me, and nothing has ever felt so right as her body clamping down on mine, her words in my ear, her hands clawed into my shoulders.
This woman, she is my Destiny.
Fuck, that’s cheesy, but it’s so true.
“You’re my Destiny.” I can’t help saying it out loud.
She buries her head against my neck and laughs. “Jesus. That was so bad it was good.” She lets herself fall back to the bed and my thrusts slow to almost nothing as I fight the urge to unleash. “But I loved it. Because…I am.”
My eyes lock on hers, and I know I’m done for, then and there.
This is love.
I won’t say it yet, though. I’ll save that for a better moment. If I say it now, she’ll think it’s just the intimacy of sex making me say it. And that’s not it at all. Or at least, not entirely.
My movements go shuddery and stuttering. I’m gasping, sweating, and I don’t dare look away from her molten brown gaze.
“Now, Adam. Now.” She grinds against me hard, and I feel her squeeze with her inner muscles as she writhes against me, fucking me.
And somehow, despite being beneath me, she’s in control now. She grips my ass and hooks her heels around the back of my knees and her pussy clamps down, and I have no choice but to bury my face in the generous silken heaven of her tits and let myself go. It’s not letting go, though, because I have no control over this. She’s demanding my orgasm, taking it from me. Drawing it out of me.
I’m wild, suddenly, manic and feral and rough. And she just shouts “YES, YES, YES!” and fucks me back and growls with me.
“Destiny…I’m coming, Des.” My forehead rests on her cheekbone, her breath in my ear, her hands gentling on my ass now but still pulling me and pulling me, urging me. “Oh…fuck…fuck…”
“Yes, Tory, give it to me, give it to me, Adam.” It should be weird hearing her call me ‘Tory’ since only my immediate family uses that name, but it’s not. Nor is it weird hearing her use both names in one sentence.
It just reinforces how completely we’re intertwined.
And then my cock explodes inside her, heat shooting out of me, wrenching my entire being so I can only drive into her hard and fast and explode again, and she’s smoothing both hands from ass to shoulders, her hips grinding against mine, and she’s moaning in my ear, clamping down around me and everything is gone, nothing exists but this moment, this breathless unity.
“Holy shit, Adam.” She kisses my cheek, my jaw, her hands still roaming all over my back.
I collapse on her, and she takes my weight and holds me until I slide off her, but she won’t let me go far, cradles my head against her breast and strokes my hair. “It gets more intense every time, Des,” I murmur.
“No kidding,” she agrees. “I didn’t know it was possible to come that many times.”
I just laugh against her skin. “I lost count.”
“Five,” she answers.
“So that last time, when I came?”
She laughs, her tits shaking. “I’m not sure, honestly. I don’t know what that was. I felt you coming inside me, and even though I’d just come and I don’t think I could have again even if I tried, I was…coming with you. Feeling you come that hard just…did something to me. Not sure what it was.” I roll to my back and take her with me, so now she’s nooked into my arm. She nuzzles against me, sighing. After a moment she rests a palm on my stomach, flips my still-recovering cock back and forth. “Gonna need this again soon.”
“I love how horny you are, baby.” I didn’t mean to use that word, but she doesn’t freak out.
I feel her smile against my chest. “What can I say? I love the way you fuck me, and I can’t get enough of it.”
“It’s not just fucking, Destiny.”
She tilts her head to look at me, her eyes deep and knowing. “I know. It’s a lot more than that.” She touches my lips with her finger. “But let’s save that for later. For now, focus on getting ready for me again.”
Holy shit am I in deep with this girl.
Chapter 17
“Quit fidgeting, Des,” Adam says to me. “You look breathtaking.”
But I can’t stop fidgeting. It’s the premiere, which means it’s my first public event with Adam as his girlfriend. My heart is in my throat and refusing to beat properly. And I can’t breathe.
He’s effortlessly sexy in a custom Brooks Brothers suit, black slacks, white button-down with a bowtie the same shade as his eyes, and a black jacket with the sleeves pushed up past his elbows, the cuffs of the button-down tugged out and wrapped around the edge of the jacket cuffs. His hair is a little longer than usual, per my request, swept back and loosely gelled. He’s got two days worth of beard scruff going, which gets me all hot and bothered every time I look at him—roughly every six seconds, since my nerves are on high-alert.
I’m wearing a Betsey Johnson dress in the same pastel green as his bowtie and his eyes. It’s strapless, showing off the tattoo between my shoulder blades. It’s chiffon, flowing to floor length with a slit up my right thigh, sweetheart waistline. It’s been sized and tailored to fit me, donated to me by the designer for the premiere.
Hair and makeup? Rose lent me her stylist, which was…surreal. Having my hair and makeup done for professional reasons was fun the first few times, but it became routine. Sitting in Rose’s elegant loft apartment, having my hair fussed over, sipping something sweet and fruity and stiffly alcoholic to soothe my nerves? That was incredible.
But now we’re in a rented Bentley, sliding to a stop outside the theater, and I can’t breathe. The two drinks I had are roiling in my stomach.
The vehicle halts, and a body appears on the other side of the window—it’s a guy in a tuxedo who is preparing to open the car door. Adam is curbside, so he’ll get out first. Flashes pop and pop and pop, blinding. Even through the acoustically soundproofed interior, the noise beyond the car is loud.
Adam grabs my hand, squeezes. “Destiny. Look at me.”
God. He’s got a thing for using my full name when he wants my attention. It’s effective, though.
I glance up at him and crush his hand with mine. “What?” My voice is shaky.
“You can do this. We can do this. You’ve done this before, okay?”
“Not…not like this. This is different.”
My voice falls to a whisper. “What if I embarrass you somehow?”
He shakes his head. “You won’t. I’ll be right beside you. Now just breathe, smile, and stay calm.”
And then he’s tapping on the window with a knuckle, the door is opening, the chatter of voices and click of camera shutters washes over me. Adam unfolds from the Bentley with easy, enviable grace, pivots away and extends a hand to me. I slide across the seat, place one wedge heel on the red carpet, and pull on Adam’s hand to stand up. A brief glance down to make sure everything is in the right place, the black Prada clutch purse Adam gave me as part of my twenty-third birthday gift in my hand, and I move into Adam’s waiting arm. He wraps his hand around my waist, tucks me to his side, and then we’re facing the crowd of photographers.
My smile is automatic. I relax, and move with Adam naturally as we pivot slightly to give the photographers a different angle. And then he’s twining my fingers in his and we’re moving down the carpet toward the backdrop where Rose and Dylan are posing. They move off toward the theater, and it’s Adam’s and my turn. He has my hand in his, and we stand side by side, hands down and clasped, smiling, turning this way and that, more smiling. I ignore the fact that the flashes have blinded me so I’m seeing spots in front of my eyes.
And then Adam is stepping away from me, gesturing to me with a wave of his hand, smiling at me reassuringly. Oh god. Oh god. I’m standing alone, now, facing what feels like a firing squad of photographers. This is nothing like modeling. That was arranged, composed, one guy and a camera, directing me. I have to do this on my own. I stand with one hand on my hip, a knee popped, lift a shoulder, turn my head this way and smile. Look into one lens, change the tilt of my lips and look into a different camera, adjust my pose, turn and give them a look at the back of the gown, and my tattoo, which is scary. The ache for home lives in all of us…
It’s a statement, and I chose it to make one, but having it be public, photographed and talked about? Oh god. Panic is bubbling up. The tattoo was always ’shopped out in the shots that went to the clients. That’s out of the question now, obviously. It’s out there and the conjecture will begin, the questions, the requests for interviews. They’ve already come, starting when Adam announced me as his date for the premiere.
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