Crash: While He Sleeps

by Lucy Lick

  He was so warm and solid!

  Casey slid an arm around his waist, still shocked by how carved the muscles in his stomach felt under her hands. He was like a rock. And it wasn’t just his stomach. Her hand had drifted down, all by itself, to the tent pole under the sheet. His erection throbbed in her fist. She had small hands, and had always loved the way his cock filled it, filled every part of her, once.

  Her pulse quickened, feeling his length, stroking it slowly, almost idly, remembering him. Oh Chris, why didn’t you just stay with me? She knew, of course, why he couldn’t stay, the same reason she couldn’t just pick up and go. He had to go out to California and follow his calling, just like she had to stay in school and follow hers.

  If it had been anything else but fighting. Even just wrestling, or plain boxing, but there were no rules in ultimate fighting. They only thing they banned was eye gouging and biting. Everything else was fair game, even the things they frowned on like hair pulling and groin strikes, for God’s sake. She couldn’t live with that. She couldn’t watch him get beaten to a pulp every night, knowing very intimately the medical repercussions of his choice, that he could end up blind, deaf or… in a coma.

  But here he was. And she wanted him, in spite of it all.

  And if she didn’t know better, she could have sworn, in spite of his current state, he wanted her too. He was responding quite favorably to her attention. She heard the monitor, his heart rate increasing, feeling it thudding against her ear, his breath coming faster. Glancing at his face, Casey watched for a reaction, deciding to use a trick she’d learned he could never resist.

  She licked her thumb and forefinger, making it nice and wet, and then slid the tight circle down around the head, twisting gently, as if she were trying to slide a too-snug turtleneck over the tip, rocking her hand back and forth, twisting around and around, his pre-cum adding to the slipperiness of her saliva. Casey never took her eyes off his face, her breath held, and gasped when she saw his eyelids flutter.

  “Crash!” she exclaimed, grabbing his shoulders, shaking gently. “Crash! Can you hear me? Baby, it’s Casey! It’s really me! Can you hear me?”

  She repeated her words excitedly, getting as close to his ear as she could, but there was nothing. His heart rate leveled out again, his breathing back to normal. Disappointed, she sighed, tucking her head under his chin. She knew it took time, knew she shouldn’t get discouraged. It could be months. Why did she have to be so impatient? He always said she was as impatient five-year-old boy, to which she would respond, do I look like a five year old boy? That was usually accompanied by Casey lifting her shirt and sticking out her tongue, and him lunging after her like a cat pouncing on a mouse.

  She smiled at the memory, and damned if her hand hadn’t found him again, his erection waning slightly but responding again at her touch. He was so beautiful, even with the cut over his eye, butterflied closed, the bruised ribs and split-open knuckles, it was no wonder there were girls, even now three days later, sitting in their waiting room to catch a glimpse of him.

  So why hadn’t he chosen one?

  Why didn’t you? Well, that was a good question, one her roommate Aaron often ribbed her about. Her lack of a love life was a constant source of amusement for him, while he paraded guy after guy past her bedroom door, bringing home a new one every week it seemed. He’d even coyly once offered to share, to which she just laughed and blushed and told him he couldn’t handle her in bed.

  Casey froze, feeling a soft puff of air against the top of her head, moving her hair, like a sigh or a snort or… there it was again! She lifted her face, watching his mouth, lips slightly parted. Oh she wanted to kiss him, even with that horribly split lip. He had the most perfect mouth. Her lips seemed to have a mind of their own, just like her hand, and she found herself pressing her mouth to his, ever so slightly, the lightest, sweetest of kisses.

  Her own body responded instantly, a heat flooding her chest, sticky honey seeping between her thighs, the hard cock in her hand and the taste of him, coppery blood and salty sweat and him, just him, a taste like no other against her tongue. She couldn’t help reaching for more, a hummingbird seeking sweetness, licking, tasting, exploring him while he slept. Oh this was wrong, so very wrong.

  His cock pulsed, hard as a steel bar in her hand. The monitor behind her beeped louder, faster, matching her own racing heart. Their breath and saliva mingled, creating a wet heat Casey couldn’t resist. She kissed him and stroked him and snugged her pussy right up against his hip, because if she didn’t, she thought she would die.

  If anyone found them, she would get fired in an instant. She should stop. Right now.

  And then he groaned.

  He groaned!

  Casey stiffened, pulling back to look into his face, waiting. Her hand stopped moving on him momentarily, but when she squeezed him, he responded with that puff of air on her cheek, his breath hitching slightly. She stroked him a little faster, the monitor behind her beeping faster too, so excited she could barely breathe herself.

  “Crash,” she whispered in his ear, remembering how she had discovered his penchant for dirty talk one wild, drunk night. Talking dirty had turned him into an animal, a fact she had used on more than one occasion to her advantage later, she remembered with a smile. She added that to the mix, her hand still moving on him, keeping time with his breathing. “Oh baby, I want you so much. I’m so wet for you. I want you inside of me. Do you want to fuck me? Do you want this wet little pussy all over your cock, baby? Because I want you so much I can’t stand it…”

  Oh fuck. That was so true she could hardly stand the tightness in her chest, the increasing throb between her legs. She nuzzled his ear, the smell of the no-rinse shampoo she had used on him making her dizzy, the cock in her hand sticky wet with pre-cum.

  “Crash, tell me, baby,” she murmured, pulling his foreskin down and thumbing the tip, just the way she knew he liked it. “Tell me you want it and I’ll fuck you right here, right now. I swear I will. Just tell me. Tell me. Tell me.”

  He groaned again, and she saw the pink flash of his tongue, like he was trying to speak, trying to tell her something, but his eyes didn’t open, although his lids fluttered like a promise. Come back to me, she thought, pressing her forehead to his neck, feeling his pulse there too. Please, baby, come back to me.

  “Gem.”

  She lifted her head in a dream, sure she was dreaming. Had he called her? Had he really? It was a name only he would know. Casey was already short for Catherine, but he had started by calling her his own little secret when they first started dating and she’d been down on herself for her weight, telling him no one ever wanted to date her because she was too chubby. Chris had laughed and shook his head and told her it was their loss. He called her his diamond in the rough, which had morphed into Jewel, and then had been shortened to “Gem.”

  Had he really said it? Or was it just an attempt at a word? Oh hell, it was something! She would take it!

  “Yes,” she whispered eagerly, not making the same mistake this time and keeping her hand on him, connected, his cock responding delightfully to her touch. “It’s me. It’s me. Oh god, I missed you.”

  She felt tears threatening and swallowed them. Then his hand was on her hip. The lightest of touches, barely a movement, but he had moved. He was slowly waking. As long as she kept his heart rate up, his breath coming like this, his body seemed to respond. And there was clearly one very good way to do that, as wrong as it was.

  “I want you,” she told him, hearing his glorious, guttural groan again when she thumbed the head of his cock. “Oh god, I want you so much.”

  Her own whispered words thrilled her. Her panties stuck to her mound, the moist heat between her legs spreading to her inner thighs. She found herself practically straddling him, his cock in her fist, her body protesting the amount of clothing acting as a barrier between them.

  “Fuck,” she swore, looking at the monitor, where his heart rate continued to climb, to hi
s face, where his eyes moved in response to her touch behind their lids.

  She made the decision in an instant, the same way she always did, doing something so spontaneously stupid without thinking it through first, it was like her brain wasn’t connected to her body. Casey got undressed faster than she ever had in her life. She was naked in an instant, between heartbeats, and then she was in bed with him, skin to skin, straddling his hips, his cock rising up like a fleshy arrow, pointed at her navel.

  There was no going back now. If someone walked in, there would be no question about what she was doing, no making excuses or trying to explain, but she didn’t care. It’s for his own good, she told herself, but that wasn’t it either. He was here, he was warm and solid and breathing, and for the moment, he was hers again. She knew she could bring him back to her this way, knew it the way she knew the intimate details of his skin, knew it in the way she understood how his mind worked, how the animal instinct part of his brain was serving to wake up his body.

  Sitting up like this, she was dizzied by the glorious sight of him, the most beautiful man she had ever seen trapped between her aching thighs, and he had once been hers. The thought made her want him even more, knowing they might only ever have this, one sweet moment, but if she could bring him around somehow, it would be enough to last her a lifetime.

  Casey reached down and grabbed his slick length, satisfied with the soft exhale that elicited from his sweet lips, unable to help herself as she slipped the head of his cock between her swollen labia. Oh god, that was good. So good it made her feel faint. How long had it been? Three years? A one-night stand after a very drunk night at the bar with Aaron, and she still wasn’t sure if the guy had been straight.

  Crash had more masculinity in his little finger than her date had managed to exude, but she pitied any man who ended up being compared to the god she was about to fuck. There was no comparison. He had left a hole in her heart shaped just like him when he’d crashed out of her life, and had just filled it again when he’d been thrust back into it.

  Casey slid down onto his length with a shiver, her nipples hardening almost painfully, and she couldn’t help the moan that escaped her lips. She almost didn’t hear him, she was so lost in the overwhelming sensation, the first push into her flesh, taking him deep into her belly. It was soft, something between a groan and a whisper, but it was his name for her. Gem. He was calling her, he knew it was her, he knew it, she was sure of it.

  “Yes,” she urged, rolling her hips, a slow circular grind. “It’s me, baby. I promised you could have me. I’m right here.”

  Leaning in close, her heavy breasts flattened against his chest, she kissed him as she rocked, feeling his hot breath mingling with hers, the temperature in the room rising. It felt like a hundred degrees. Her body responded, beading with sweat as she squeezed him with all her strength, riding him slow, telling herself she wanted to gauge his reaction, but the truth was she just wanted it to last.

  His hands rested, still at his sides, and Casey caught them in hers, lacing her fingers with his and bringing his arms over his head. He was trapped beneath her grinding hips, in the slow push and pull of her sex, and she felt him coming to her, slowly but surely, like he was rising out of deep water.

  “Oh, Crash, you feel so good,” she gasped, cheek pressed to his. “I love your cock in me. It’s been so long. I missed you so much.”

  That soft exhale, his cock twitching inside her, swollen to impossible proportions, everything wet. She didn’t know where she began and he ended.

  “Come back to me,” she moaned, moving faster now, driven by her own lust. He did feel good, too good. She couldn’t concentrate on anything but the heat spreading through her pelvis. “Ohhhh fuck, Crash! Oh god! Yes! That’s so fucking good!”

  She moaned, feeling his hands moving, still laced with hers, his grip weak, but it was there, it was real. Casey leaned back enough so she could see his face, not stopping—she couldn’t stop, not now—seeing the fast flutter of his eyelids, his lips parted, his brow no longer relaxed but knitted in what might be mistaken for pain, but she knew better. She felt the way his cock responded and knew just what he was feeling. She was feeling it too.

  He was close. He was closer than he’d been in years, and he was surfacing. He was coming, coming back to her. She felt it like she was witnessing a miracle, was so taken by the sight and feel of him she could hardly breathe, let alone form any semblance of thought or words, but she knew in an instant what would bring him fully back, although she hadn’t known it before that moment.

  “I love you, Crash,” she cried, her pussy beginning the first tell-tale spasms, the torture of the moment breaking open in hot waves of pleasure. “Ohhhh fuck! Ohhh!”

  She was coming, her orgasm so forceful it arched her back and thrust her hips against his, forcing him painfully deep, her pussy clamping around him with the hot force of a wet vise. Casey bit her lip to keep from screaming, feeling his big hands coming alive in hers, gripping her little ones with such force she gasped.

  His eyes opened, looking at her in momentary confusion, but that disappeared a moment later as he thrust up to meet her still spasming pussy, burying himself into her. His moan thrilled her, but it was her name, his name for her on his lips, that sent her flying.

  “Gem!” he managed, his eyes raking her body bent over him, still riding him, and she laughed, she couldn’t help it, pulling his hands to her hips and leaning in to kiss him fully on the mouth.

  “You came back to me,” she whispered, cupping his battered, bruised face in her hands. “Now come for me, baby. Fill me. Do it. Now.”

  He groaned, his grip tightening on her wide, curvy hips, his hands pulling her in hard and deep and tight, not even fucking her now, just riding the wave, so close she felt him trembling between her thighs. She knew this moment, knew it so well it was like breathing. Crash had always fucked like he fought, with a distant, cool smile, a careful, guarded stance, until all at once, in one animal burst of lust, he was hers.

  She kissed him fully on the mouth, her tongue thrusting between his split lips, fucking him with her sweet pink tongue until the motion took him over the edge with a sudden, animal roar of a lust, a sound so unexpected it startled them both, but his climax was imminent, and that distracted them.

  Casey felt every sweet, alive pulse of his cock as he came up inside her, thrusting up so hard he threatened to split her in half, and the strength of him thrilled her beyond words. He rolled and roared like thunder beneath her, and they crashed together in one final moment of final release.

  She smiled, cupping his face and kissing him, salty tears wetting his cuts and bruises. His eyes never left her, looking like he was sure she was a dream and if he looked away she might disappear. If he slipped away again now, she might never get him back, and she kept eye contact, kept touching him, in an attempt to keep him here.

  He opened his mouth to speak and looked utterly confused when no words came out. Then he said it again, his name for her, “Gem.”

  She nodded. “It’s okay. Speech is often the last thing to come back. You’ve been in a coma, Chr—Crash. It’s been three days.”

  He tried speech again and failed, but the way he looked at her told her everything—more than everything—he could have attempted to say with his mouth. That sweet mouth. She kissed him again, not thinking about anything. She didn’t think about what would happen if someone walked in and discovered them. There was no thought of how he had left, why he had left, the fights and the blood and the pain. She didn’t think about the past or the future. There was nothing but that moment.

  Until the door opened and she heard Broom Hilda’s gasp. “What in the name of all that’s holy is going on in here?”

  And the world rushed back in for them both.

  The End

  Want more CRASH?

  Find out what happens when Crash wakes up from his coma and what repercussions there might be for Casey’s unconventional “treatment” methods in
CRASH: When He Wakes.

  Blurb and excerpt below!

  ABOUT LUCY LICK

  Lucy Lick spends her working hours shelving books in the local library and her free time reading, writing, and taking and developing pictures (on actual film!) Lucy leads two lives, the one everyone knows about, and the other one, the one almost no one knows about, where she can let her stories run as wild as her imagination.

  She can be reached on her website at www.lucylick.com

  CRASH: When He Wakes

  By Lucy Lick

  Casey’s undivided attention to her comatose patient has brought him back to the land of the living, but Chris “Crash” Savage isn’t sure he wants to be in it when he’s diagnosed with a condition that may end his career in the “Ultimate Fighting” ring. Casey’s unorthodox methods in bringing her ex-boyfriend out of his coma come with serious consequences for her own career, and now that Crash is Earth-side again, he’s just as difficult and stubborn as she remembered him, even if he hasn’t quite regained all his faculties yet. Can Casey convince him that life itself is worth fighting for?

  EXCERPT from CRASH: When He Wakes

  “Crash, you have to eat something.” Casey lifted the plastic spoon, trying to make the applesauce more appealing by taking a bite of it herself. It made her stomach rumble and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had something to eat. “Mmm! See? It’s yummy! Here… come on… please?”

  She refilled the spoon, approaching his mouth with it, and he glared at her, pressing his lips together and turning his head away like a toddler. Casey rolled her eyes, tossing the cup of applesauce on the table beside the bed, glaring back at him.

  “Do you want a tube down your throat? They’ll do it. You can’t starve yourself to death. You can’t wish it away. You can’t go back to sleep.”