by Cassie James
I don’t immediately move to comply, instead I watch as the pink in his cheeks and neck recedes a little as he focuses his energy on breathing steadily. When his head falls forward and his eyes pop open on a slight glare, I ask, “It’s good, right?”
“Get. A. Condom.”
I roll to the left as the mattress dips and shifts, fingers barely snagging a condom from the bedside table before his hands are on my hips in a bruising grip. He jerks me further down the bed, and I bite back a groan at the rough handling I wasn’t aware I was even into until I started messing around with the Storms.
I’ve always liked being in control, but something about being with men I truly trust has made giving some of that control away not so scary. And honestly… it’s been really freaking sexy, too.
Total turn on.
He snatches the condom from my fingers, and I’m rewarded with the sight of him somehow hissing through a moan as he tears the package open and rolls the condom over his straining cock. Lee’s hands settle on my knees, and our eyes lock. There’s a wild sort of savagery hiding in the depths of his eyes, and I know that this is going to be fast and dirty.
My legs fall open for him on instinct, but I whimper when he runs his hands toward the inside of my thighs before pushing me further open for him. Lee shuffles forward until his cock is pressing insistently against my thigh.
He starts to line himself up at my entrance, but I reach out and place my palm flat against his twitching abs, stilling his movement before he can bury himself to the hilt inside of me. “Wait, give me the balm.”
“Gemma, I can’t handle any more of it. It’s too much.”
I roll my hips a fraction, biting back a groan at the feel of him pressing against me in such an intimate way. From the way his fingers bite into my thighs, I know this isn’t going to last long, and I’m okay with that. The Storms have ruined me for sex, though, and I know I won’t be satisfied if I don’t get off again.
“It’s for me,” I say, and he twists around immediately, cock never moving from my entrance as he feels around the bed for the balm.
It’s in my hand in about five seconds flat.
I squirm at the way his eyes hood as he watches me squeeze a much smaller amount onto the tips of my fingers than he did on his dick. I’ve barely circled my clit once before he pushes into me.
“Fuuuuuck,” he groans, and yeah.
Yeah.
The tingling of my clit is almost as intense as the tingles in my belly as he looks at me with nothing short of total adoration in his eyes. I rock my hips up to meet his, desperate for relief as I circle my clit with shaky fingers. He groans before pushing the rest of the way into me.
And holy shit.
The tingles are moving all the way through my body as he pounds into me with bruising intensity. My head lolls to the side as he works his body over mine expertly. The pace is punishing, but so, so good, and I’m pretty sure I just found my quickie partner for the rest of my life.
I find my way to the edge of pleasure within minutes, and I’m ready to just fucking dive over when Lee surprises me by rolling us over. My entire body trembles, and my clit’s completely forgotten as I focus all my energy on digging my nails into his pecs as I ride him like I’m racing toward the finish line in first place.
Lee’s fingers dig into my thighs as I grind and drag my hips over him. Everything’s tingly and burning and aching, and all I want is to get mine and give him his. Stars explode behind my eyes, leaving me blinded and breathless, when he runs a hand up my thigh before delving a thumb in between my legs to circle my clit.
And that’s it.
I’m done.
I’m a hot, quivering mess as my orgasm explodes through my body. I collapse against his chest and ride out the wave of pleasure, muscles clenching and spasming around him as he braces his feet against the bed and hammers into me. Lee follows me over the edge a minute later, jerking and stilling as he groans his pleasure in my ear.
We lay there for what seems like forever. And it’s not until the tingles have receded completely that I manage to exert the energy required to roll off of him and collapse panting onto the bed next to him.
I hold my hand up, expecting him to wrap our fingers together, but he surprises me with a high five first.
“Good call on making me use it, too, Gemma. We’re never fucking without it again.”
I bite my lip before rolling my head to the side to grin at him. Again. Warmth floods my entire body at the word.
Yeah, he’s stuck with me now.
Just like the rest of the Storms.
It’s a weird arrangement—no doubt about that—but it’s working, and it’s ours. And I’m never, ever giving any of them up for as long as I can help it.
Twenty-One
Ryan
December 08
Relaxing and having fun are two things I’ve never been particularly good at, which might be the reason I thought the Christmas carnival would be a fun date idea for me and Gemma. It’s odd, for sure, to have a carnival in the middle of winter, but it comes to Strudford every year, decorated in hues of reds, greens, silver, and gold.
By the way Gemma’s eyes light up when we start playing games at the booths, I know I made the right choice.
She smiles every time we try something new, from playing games for prizes to sharing cups of eggnog and hot chocolate. By the time we’ve gone through the hokey tunnel of love and eaten an entire bag of cotton candy, I legit feel like I might be a little sick.
It’s all just a little too much sugary-sweetness for me.
I do what I can to fight the nausea down as we walk through the tent she’s excitedly dragging me through. Eventually we step out of the tent where Santa’s reindeer are being kept, and Gemma gasps at the sight of the ferris wheel spinning a few hundred feet ahead of us.
Well, shit.
There’s not much in life that makes me squeamish, but heights are one of those things. And this rickety-ass looking ferris wheel might be another. I glance at her from the corner of my eye, and even though the wheel looks rather of the antique variety, she looks thrilled at the idea of sitting in the tiny seat while dangling hundreds of feet in the air.
I swallow my groan and snatch her hand up. In for a penny, in for a pound, or whatever, right? By the time we make it to the line, she’s bouncing on her toes and grasping my arm in a tight grip. Her clear excitement almost makes up for the fact I actually have to go on it with her.
But, let’s be real, I’d do pretty much anything to put a smile on her face.
“Come on, let’s get this over with,” I mutter when we finally step onto the wildly swinging cart. She throws her head back and laughs, and I pass a narrow-eyed glance in her direction.
Gemma drops like a rock, smiling as she yanks me down despite the lurching cart. My stomach drops, but I play it cool because the asshole lowering the antique metal bar over our laps is spending just a little too much time looking at my girl. “We’re safe,” I mutter as I push up on the metal bar.
It creaks, and I try not to grimace. The kid passes Gemma another long stare, and I swear if looks could kill, this idiot would have about a thousand daggers sticking out of his body.
“Shove off, bud.”
He scampers off, and I smile in a self-satisfied sort of way as I drop my arm behind her on the cart. My stomach goes all wonky again when she leans against my side, snuggling her head on my shoulder as she sighs. I let the sound of her breathing wash over me as our cart rotates up once for the next couple to claim their cart.
“God, the view’s amazing isn’t it?” she breathes out as she takes in the sights. “The carnival looks so alive from up here with all the colors and flashing lights. I normally drag my dad to this thing every year. I somehow don’t think he’s going to be too bummed he missed out. He doesn’t like the cold, like at all.”
“You know, I don’t usually come to things like this. Carnivals and fairs always just sort of felt like a waste of tim
e and money to me.” She tenses next to me, and I swing my head around to look at her. I nudge my finger under her chin and raise her face up so she can see the sincerity in my eyes as I add, “I’d definitely come back with you, though. Any day of the week.”
“You really don’t like these things?” she asks with a pout, and I can’t help but roll my eyes as I reach up to tweak her nose.
“This one is better than most,” I admit, and she smiles up at me again. “You’ll have to forgive me if I seem preoccupied, though. I gotta admit that all I can really think about right now are all things I’m going to do to you when we get back to my place.”
She swallows hard and I know she’s trying to work out what exactly I have planned for her back at my place. All I can hope is that this ridiculous ride will be over soon so we can head back to my apartment.
The thing about Gemma is I’ve seen her sad, annoyed, excited, and even a little pissed off.
Now, I’m one ferris wheel ride away from seeing what her face looks like when I’m bringing her a world of pleasure. Best Christmas present ever if you ask me.
We’ve made it to the very top of the wheel before the chill in the air seems to penetrate Gemma’s excitement. She’s shivering, just enough for me to notice, and I’d be a fool to miss the chance to pull her even closer and wrap both my arms around her. She curls against my side I drop my head to lean my cheek against hers.
Maybe these ferris wheels aren’t as bad as I thought—I’m definitely starting to see the appeal.
By the time it circles around again and we climb off, the carnival crowd has grown thicker and more insistent as they jostle us while passing. I grit my teeth and wrap my arm around her shoulders. I know she’s having fun, but I’m ready to get the hell out of dodge and show her what real fun looks like.
She laughs as I steer her toward the thinning crowd nearer the exits. “I’ll take this as your not-so-subtle hint that you’re ready to go?”
“Not quite,” I answer as I turn her toward a baseball toss booth that’s just at the edge of the festivities. “First, we’re going to go win you a prize at this ball toss booth. That’s what people do at these things, right?”
Truth be told, there’s an oversized Rudolph plush that she squealed at when we were at another booth hanging from the rafters of this one. Even though I know I could easily go to a store and buy one, it just feels more genuine to buy some damned balls and try to win this one instead.
I miss the first two shots, only managing to knock off a single bottle. I growl at the guy manning the booth when he smirks about it.
I play rugby—give me one of those balls and all these damn bottles would be littering the ground. I grit my teeth and square my shoulders.
Rugby ball or not, I know I can hit these bottles.
Gemma’s trying not to laugh, and I just know I’ll never live it down if the guys ever hear about how I couldn’t win her some stupid carnival prize cause I couldn’t hit the target. I let my frustration fuel my last pitch, lobbing the ball right at the center of the stack. Gemma’s still fighting back her laughter as the bottles explode outward, crashing off the stool they’re on.
The worker rolls his eyes but holds the Rudolph plush out when I point to it. I thrust it toward Gemma with a grumble for the worker in the back of my throat, and she finally cracks, nearly crying with the force of her laughter. I put my arm around her shaking shoulders and finally steer her out of the carnival.
“Man, you really didn’t like the carnival, did you?” she asks, craning her neck to look up at me as we walk the blessedly quiet streets.
“I like that you liked it,” I tell her sincerely, and her amused huff pulls a smile over my face. “I told you, I just don’t really get it. It’s a lot of noise and people—plus, how much money do you think people blow through to win knick-knacks and toys that would be cheaper and easier to just get at a store?”
“The noise and the people?” She lets out a giggle. “Because the rugby field is sooo quiet.”
“It’s not the same. I can’t really explain it. Maybe I just don’t do fun all that well.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” she says as she stares straight up at me. One thing that can be said about Gemma is she doesn’t take us beating ourselves up well. She’s our own personal light of positivity.
“I think you probably just experience things differently from people who love to go out and party or go to a Christmas carnival in the cold. That doesn’t mean you can’t have fun.”
“Yeah, okay,” I grumble before ducking my head down to steal a heated kiss. The moan that slips through her lips goes straight to my cock, and I know my personal mission for the night will be seeing how many more I can draw from her.
I pull back reluctantly and tell her, “I cannot wait to show you just how fun I can be.”
Gemma takes her time exploring my apartment while I head to the kitchen to mix us some drinks. When I find her again, she’s staring at the pictures hanging on the wall near my couch.
There are photos of my family, vacations, the team—you know, the usual. There’s something serious about the intent way she’s staring at the team that makes my stomach drop. I get it—this is a weird set up, but it’s going to work because she’s her and we’re us, and there’s just no way it won’t. I’m terrified she’s staring like that because she’s having second thoughts.
I need to distract her—make her forget about the things in her head that she’s thinking could go wrong.
I drop the glasses on the coffee table as I stop to stand next to her. Gemma turns to look up at me, and I take that chance to drop a hand to her hip and press my lips against hers.
She stumbles a step, back colliding against the wall as I explore every single inch of her mouth. Her body’s pinned to the wall by my own, and I can feel every delectable curve of hers pressing against me. I tug her bottom lip between my teeth, and she moans into my mouth.
I growl in response as I lift her up, wrapping her legs around my waist, too frenzied to make it to the bedroom like I should. I carry her to the couch, dropping her onto the cushions and hating that I have to pull away at all, even if it is to snag the bullet and a condom from my gym bag.
“Need a little help?” she asks, grinning cheekily when she spots the vibrator in my hand.
“Not at all, but it’s what I pulled from the advent box, and I’m nothing if not committed.”
Her smile turns from cheeky to sultry in an instant, and I can’t help my groan as blood shoots straight to my already hard dick. I lean down, snagging the hem of her shirt in my hands, and pull it over her head. Gemma sits up, reaching for my shirt as well, but I step out of her reach and wink as I pull it over my head myself. My pants follow soon after, and I don’t bother hiding my smirk as her eyes travel my body hungrily.
“I don’t want to hear a peep from you,” I warn her as I palm a handful of my aching cock. Her eyes darken, and even though I’d really been looking forward to peeling her out of her pants, I don’t stop her when she reaches down to do it herself. “Actually, the only sound I want to hear is you screaming my name.”
She sucks in a sharp gasp as I sink to my knees at the edge of the couch. I take one look at her panties, and I hope like hell she’s not going to miss them too much because I can’t help myself from grabbing the thin scrap of material in my hands and ripping them clean off of her.
I swallow a groan at the sight of her glistening pussy. I’d had plans to taste her, to make her come undone with nothing but my tongue, but she’d had the balls to insinuate I needed help in the bedroom. Of course, there’d been heat in her eyes as she joked, so I have the feeling that she’s actually quite excited by the idea of the toy. Might as well start with it and work my way up from there.
I reach behind me blindly, a Cheshire grin pulling across my lips when my fingers connect with the bullet. I switch the toy to the lowest setting before lowering it to her nipple. She jolts, her eyes catching mine as I lean in to take
her other nipple into my mouth. She moans at the sensation, but she’s still not screaming my name.
I pull the bullet away from her nipple, running it slowly down her stomach before pressing it against her clit. She moans louder now but I’m greedy and I want more.
My lips follow the path the vibrator took down her stomach, and she quivers as I kiss the insides of her thighs.
Just you wait.
I lower my mouth and shove my tongue into her pussy as I twist the bullet to its second setting. I smile into her pussy when she arches off the couch before threading her fingers through my hair.
I pull away from devouring her long enough to ask, “Are you ready to scream my name?”
“Nope.”
The word comes out as a hiss as I turn the bullet to its highest setting. She’s making me work for it, but it’s honest work, and I’d do it every damn day if she’d let me.
I pull my mouth away from her just to replace my tongue with the bullet, pushing it slightly inside of her and thrusting it experimentally. She writhes in place, breathy moans pushing through her lips, but she’s still not screaming my name.
I lower my mouth over her again, dragging her clit between my teeth and teasing it with my tongue. I thrust the bullet in and out of her, relishing the way her body tenses as she comes closer and closer to climaxing. And then without warning, she cums, screaming out as she does.
Goddamn, she’s going to be the death of me.
I pull the bullet out of her, pleased to see it glistening with the evidence of her arousal, and drop it to the couch next to her. I turn to snatch up the condom before rolling my boxers down my hips and tearing the packet open. I groan as I slip it down my aching cock. Yup, she’s definitely going to kill me at this rate.
Gemma’s still shaking when I push up on my knees and pull her ass to the edge of the couch. I line myself up against her entrance, and her eyes meet mine in one fiery moment of need before I’m pushing myself deep inside of her.
