The fury I felt told me everything I needed to know, when it came to Lola.
Little secret about soldiering: we’re bored a fucking lot. So I’ve read a shit-load of books, and the fact that I was the first guy in my unit to get an e-reader meant no one was ever the wiser about what I read. I discovered sort of by accident the secret, almost illicit high that comes with those girly erotica books. I’d never admit it, even under torture, but I used to read the hell out of that shit. Long weeks and months surrounded by dudes, yeah, it gets a little lonely. Sure I had magazines, but I like variety. And because I liked to read, it seemed only natural that I’d read the steamy shit to help me alleviate the ache in my poor, neglected balls.
Point here is that I’d read about this, about what I was feeling: Alpha male falls for the girl, gets scared of his own feelings, which he’d always dismissed as being for pussies and weaklings, and when he finally admits he’s gone for the chick, gets all growly and protective and sappy and shit.
Yep, that was me:
Big, ripped, alpha male? Check.
Fought my feelings until it was futile to pretend anymore? Check.
Über-protective, and ready to take on Satan with a steak knife if my girl was threatened? Check.
Wait, ‘my girl?’ See? Fucked.
I was in trouble. Big fucking trouble.
“And this time, Thresh…don’t stop.”
So fucked. And I wasn’t even fighting it anymore. I was gonna run with this as far as it would go, because once I commit to something, I’m all in, come hell or high water, with every particle of my being.
Her palm was on my cheek, her other hand was stealing under my polo to caress my chest, her big lush tits were pushed out, busting out of her bra, on beautiful display just for me, and her ass was on my thighs, and…fuck. I couldn’t kiss her fast enough, hard enough, thoroughly enough. I wanted to smash my mouth against hers and crush her with my kiss. But I didn’t. I felt like she might even want that, a hard brutal mouth-fuck of a kiss, but it’d be a dodge for both of us. Hard and fast would push us way too fast past the difficult and intense emotions involved in all this.
We had to go slow. Let ourselves really experience everything, moment by moment.
So instead of slamming my lips on hers and devouring her mouth like a starving beast, I dug my hand in her hair, gathered a fistful of her long, thick black locks, twisted until my grip in that unbelievably long and shimmery, luscious black mass was firm and unbreakable, and I pulled her face closer to mine, bending over her so she was staring up at me, enveloping her with my frame. Drown out the world, block everything out, surround her with myself.
I kissed her slow, sliding my lips gingerly over hers, teasing at first, dodging away when she tried to close in too hard and fast. Softly, tenderly, I kissed her, just lips at first. I kissed her like I’d never kissed anyone, letting my heart lead. Usually my cock was in control of the kiss, but she deserved more than that. I was kissing her—and in that moment I was kissing her only for the sake of the kiss, needing nothing more, wanting nothing more, delirious just to kiss her soft, sweet, wet, warm lips and never stop.
God, it was like drowning and coming alive at the same time. Her breath mingling with mine, her lips gliding across mine, fighting for purchase and dominance, the kiss descending into frantic hunger, her tongue finding mine first, seeking my mouth, slashing and tangling with mine. Both of her hands were on my face now, holding me in place so I couldn’t escape this kiss, as if I could, as if I would, as if I wanted to.
And I didn’t.
I wanted the kiss to last forever; I wanted to live in this kiss, because it felt like I was finally, for the first time, discovering what a kiss was really meant to be, what it could be. Every other time I’d kissed anyone else was a shadow, a precursor, a pale imitation of this.
Lola broke the kiss first, but she did it with a lost whimper, lips parted, big liquid brown eyes wide and impassioned and frenzied. “Thresh—” Her voice broke.
She was feeling the intensity of it, feeling, like I was, that she’d never be the same, because that kiss had…
Well, it had meant something.
I’m no good with words, never have been, never will be.
But I am good at physical things. Like showing her what I had trouble formulating into words. I flung the sling off and tossed it aside, grazed her cheek with those fingers, rubbed my thumb over her kiss-swollen lips. Let myself feel it all, because I knew it’d shine out through my eyes.
She saw it. Oh, she saw it. No mistake there.
“More,” she said, curling her hand around the back of my head, pulling me back to her mouth.
More, indeed. I lost track of time, kissing her there by the fire. Holding her, roaming her body with my hands, not caring about the occasional twinge of pain if I jostled or moved my injured arm wrong. Didn’t matter. Touching her was all that mattered. Feeling her skin, her curves.
I let her dictate the pace, though, let her decide what came next.
She was the one to pull my shirt off, and then she guided my hand around her back to the clasp of her bra. I did the honors with extreme pleasure, pinching and releasing the clasps, then pulling the undergarment free and tossing it back into the dwelling—the fale. And then, my god, the silver light of night bathed her skin and melded with the orange glow of the fire, her huge beautiful tits pushed up toward me, begging for my touch, my kiss, her dark skin glowing. She sighed against my lips, a sigh that was equal part whimper, and god, that sound, it slayed me. Just tore me up, made me crazy. It was such a tiny, fragile, needy sound. Just a breath, a gasp, a whisper of sound past her vocal chords. And it made me absolutely crazy.
I laid her backward across my knees, her legs hanging off the side of the chair, her head cradled in my good arm, index finger and thumb of my cast-wrapped hand pinching her nipples, my mouth descending to devour the soft tender flesh of her exposed throat, kissing down that elegant column to her clavicle, to her breastbone, each kiss of my lips eliciting a gasp from her. Finally, fuck, finally I had my lips around her nipples again, licking and lapping at the impossibly silken skin of her breasts, taking her hard dark nipples into my mouth and suckling one and then the other back and forth, and back and forth, until they were taut and erect, and then flicking each of them in turn with my tongue. She writhed on my lap, arching her spine up, bowing, thrusting her tits against my face.
“God, I could come just from the way your mouth feels on my tits, Thresh.”
I had something else in mind. I helped her sit up. “Arms around my neck, babe, and hold on.” She clung to my neck, burying her nose into my throat and inhaling, shuddering. I stood up with her, hooked my one good arm under her, getting a good grip on her ass.
“You’re holding me up with one arm?”
I curled, lifting her higher. “You’re light as a feather, sweetheart.”
She laughed and buried her nose in my neck again. “Show-off.”
I tucked my own nose into her hair, inhaled her scent. “Yeah I’m gonna show off. If this isn’t the time to show you what I can do, I don’t know what is.”
I stepped around the chair, brought her to the edge of the fale, set her on the platform. And wouldn’t you know, considering how tall I was, the three-foot height of the raised platform—a stylistic element from the Seminole dwelling design—put her perfectly in position for all sorts of beautiful and dirty things.
She kicked her legs and stared up at me, a nervous smile on her lips. “Show me all your tricks, Thresh.”
I dragged my palm over her tits, and then cupped her waist. “I plan to, Lola. Every single one.”
She bit her lip, brows furrowing as I hooked my fingers in the waistband of her yoga pants. “I bet you know a lot of tricks.”
“A few, yeah.” Hauled one side of the stretchy cotton down past her hip, then the other side, using my one good hand. One side, then the other, until the pants were at her ankles, and then I yanked them off and tossed
them over her shoulder into the fale along with her bra and my sling. “You got one of my tricks earlier, a demonstration of my manual dexterity and facility with the female orgasm.”
“I award you full marks for that effort,” she breathed, and suddenly we were playing a little game. Good idea, make this fun, keep her mind off the nerves. “What is the next demonstration?”
“Oral skills.” I cupped the back of her neck, kissed her mouth, and this time I didn’t hold back, this time I gave her the full mouth-fuck, tonguing her and scouring her lips with mine relentlessly until she was gasping into my mouth and sagging against me.
“Jesus, Thresh. Where the hell’d you learn to kiss like that?”
I shrugged. “Dunno. You just…bring it out of me.”
“Well it’s bringing something out of me,” she murmured, and then couldn’t speak because she was gasping again as I laid her back onto the platform and leaned over her, taking her breast in my mouth, then the other, giving her tits the same thorough attention I’d given to her mouth.
“Good,” I said, around a mouthful of lush Samoan tit. “Let it all out.”
“I plan to. The way you use that mouth of yours, I don’t think I’ll have much choice.”
I kissed downward then, and felt my heartbeat ratchet up, because although I’d had my fingers in her pussy, I hadn’t seen it yet, hadn’t really gotten the full experience of it, and I was so fucking excited to see her bare for me, to feel her naked body, to get my mouth on her…I felt like a teenager, I was so giddy.
Fortunately I hadn’t lost my adult self-control or stamina, because as a teenager I’d not really had much of either. Now, though, I had both in spades. Men can and should do Kegels, let me tell you. Works wonders for holding off. That plus counting sheep? I could hold off almost at will, until I was ready to let go. Although I’d never been with anyone like Lola, a woman who turned me on this much, got me this hard without even touching me. So I might not be as in control as I usually was.
She was wearing a thong. Blue as the Caribbean Sea, nothing but an inch-wide strip of lace around her hips and a minuscule triangle over her pussy, and even then, the lace only barely disguised her sex, showed it in tantalizing glimpses and hints. I was already hard as a fucking rock, but when I saw that, I reared back, left her lying on the platform, tits bulging up and swaying to each side, hips wide, bell-shaped, perfect, and those thighs, my god, those thighs, muscular and thick and soft, framing her pussy in a tight wedge…
I immediately began aching. I went so hard I bent in half as the top of my straightening cock hit the ceiling of my waistband.
“Fuck, Lola,” I growled.
She lifted her head and glanced at me, perplexed by the fact that I’d stopped touching, and by the tone in my voice.
“What’s wrong, Thresh?”
“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong, honey.” I slid both hands up her shins to her thighs. “Everything’s perfect. You’re perfect. I swear to god, I’ve never seen a more perfect woman in my whole life.”
She shut her eyes and let her head thump down on the wood platform. “Oh stop.”
I growled. “I’m serious. You are so fucking sexy I can’t even handle it.”
She lifted up to rest on her elbows. Her hair framed her face and partially obscured her breasts, and her expression was…I wasn’t sure. So happy, so grateful she was near tears? Let’s go with that.
“Thank you, Thresh.”
“No, Lola, thank you.” I ran my hands up her thighs to her waist, hooked my fingers in the strap of lace around her hips. “Thank you for trusting me. Thank you for giving me this gift.”
She frowned, puzzled. “What gift?”
I hauled that ridiculously, incredibly erotic thong down, and she lifted her ass to let me take it off; I tossed it on our growing pile of clothing. I knelt, and now she was at perfect face-height.
I met her gaze, leaving my hands on her thighs, then gripped her, shook gently. “This. You.” I tugged my hands apart, and she slowly, reluctantly let me open her thighs. “You’re the gift, Lola. I’ve unwrapped you, now let me enjoy you.”
“I’m a little scared, Thresh.” Her voice was small.
I kept my eyes on hers. “Watch me. Look at me. Don’t close your eyes.”
“I’ll try.”
I put my lips to the inside of her knee, then the other. Laved kisses up the insides of her thighs, one side and the other, pushing her legs farther apart with each kiss as I went. Every once in a while I’d look up at her, make sure she was looking at me. And she was, the whole time. Eyes wide but brows drawn, lower lip caught between her teeth. The closer I got to her pussy, the harder she breathed; by the time my breath was soughing over her pussy, she was almost hyperventilating.
“Keep breathing, babe. Slow breaths in and out. And if you want me to stop, all you have to do is say so. I’ll stop immediately.”
“I’m totally panicking right now, but don’t you dare stop. I might strangle you with my thighs, though.”
I shifted a little closer to her, nudged her thighs farther apart, pushed her feet closer to her buttocks, and now she was spread wide for me, opened for me. And god, what a gorgeous pussy. Tight, a thin, trimmed scrim of curly black hairs…god. I wanted it. I needed to taste it. I glanced back up at Lola.
“Keep going, Thresh. Just…go slow.”
I just touched her at first. One finger, my index finger, trailing from the top of her pussy downward. She shivered as I traced her opening, feathered my touch over the tight firm lips. I gently flicked the beautiful little hard button of her prominent clit and she gasped, and then I circled my fingertip against it, barely touching, and her head fell back on her neck, whimpering.
“Look at me, Lola,” I commanded. “Watch me as I finger your pussy.”
She lifted up a little more, watching as I ran my finger around her clit. “That feels too good—oh god…”
I moved my finger down, to the entrance of her channel, and slid my finger into her wet tight warmth. Dragged her wetness out of her and smeared it against her clit. “You’re wet for me, Lola.” I slid two fingers in, then drew them out of her and showed her my slick, glistening fingers. “See how wet you are?”
“It’s you, the way you touch me. You make me so wet. You make me ache.”
“You’re aching?” I asked, sliding my fingers back in, pulling them out and then pushing back in, then going to her clit again, slow circles around the now-lubricated nerve center of her sex. “Aching for what?”
“Oh….mmmmm…” She moved her hips, head lolling back again. “More.”
I circled faster, until her hips were gyrating. “More of what?”
“You.”
“You can have anything you want, Lola.”
She jerked her head up to glare at me. “This again?” She sounded as riled up and turned on as she did frustrated. “You’re gonna make me ask, aren’t you?”
“Damn right I am,” I said. “I like to hear you talk dirty. It’s so fucking sexy.”
I slowed my touch, ran my tongue along her inner thigh, right along the crease where inner thigh met labia, and she gasped, a breathy, whining sharp intake of air.
“That, Thresh. Your mouth.” She shoved her hips at me, seeking more of my lips. “Put your mouth on me.”
I kissed around her pussy, over the top, just barely missing her clit, then down the other side. “My mouth is on you.”
She huffed. “Damn you…” She flopped down, scooted her ass to the edge of the platform, and reached her hands to clutch my head. “Lick my cunt, Thresh. Make me come with your mouth. Don’t stop, no matter what I say or do.”
I nearly came in my pants, then, but managed to hold it back. “Play with your tits while I lick your cunt, Lola.”
I watched as she ran her hands over her breasts, and that too was so erotic I could barely contain myself. I slid my two fingers deep inside her, curled them to finger her G-spot, and when she bucked her hips off the platform, I knew I’d
found it, and that’s when I dove in, flicking my tongue over her clit, a questing first taste. She gasped, and her grip on my head tightened. I licked again, from the bottom of her pussy to the top, pressing in at the apex to flatten my tongue against her clit, and then I began circling, alternating with side-to-side flicks, changing at random, glancing up now and then to watch her roll her nipples between her fingertips, then squeeze her breasts hard and knead them, then return to flicking and pinching and rolling her nipples.
The more I licked her clit, the breathier and more frantic her breathing became, until she was almost hyperventilating again, each breath in a sob, panicked, frenzied.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck—Thresh, Jesus—” she bit out, and then her head jerked up and she stopped toying with her breasts to lean on her elbows, just watching now. Her eyes darted around, and I realized she was feeling the panic then, feeling the eyes on her.
Time to amp it up. I slid my fingers in and out, curling as I slid them in to brush her G-spot, then sliding out, faster and faster, increasing the pace of my tongue against her clit. She fell back to the platform, and her fingernails dug into my scalp and she was jerking me against her pussy, riding my face, grinding against me, legs around my shoulders and clinging tight. All the while, she was sobbing, gasping, periodically jerking her eyes open to meet my gaze.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she screamed. “Oh god, please, please—”
I didn’t know what she was begging for, who she was begging to, but I didn’t stop, even as her sobs took over, replacing the gasps and the whimpers. Tears streamed down her face, but she was writhing against me and had my head in a death-grip, holding me so hard against her pussy that I couldn’t have stopped even if I’d tried. She was levered up on her elbows, staring at me, watching me, and I saw the fear, the panic, but I also saw that she was working through it, letting herself feel it.
Thresh: Alpha One Security: Book 2 Page 17
