Smoldering

by Tiffany Aleman

  “You are so beautiful,” he whispers.

  The warmth of his breath turns that ache into a flame that I have no doubt he will fan into a raging inferno. Gently, Riley pulls the cups of my bra down, exposing my flesh before him. My nipples stand at attention, seeking his affection. With his eyes still locked on mine, he lowers his head and takes one of the hardened buds into his warm, silky mouth. My head falls backward and my eyes roll back in my head. I moan from the sensation of his mouth on me, and on their own accord, my hips buck forward, grinding on his erect cock hidden beneath the confines of his jeans.

  “Oh. My. God.” I groan as I grind harder.

  “These tits,” he mumbles, “were made for my mouth.” I gasp when his hand rubs me through my shorts. “And I’m about to find out if this pussy,” he switches to the other nipple, showing it the same attention as the first, “was made for me too.”

  I grab hold of the back of his neck, holding him to me as I move harder against him. My head snaps forward as I yank his head back, only for his lust hooded eyes to find mine filled with desire. “Do you have something?”

  He angles his hips, pulls out his wallet, and retrieves a condom. As he rips the foil wrapper open, I deftly unbutton his jeans, and with his hips still flexed, I lift up on my knees to help pull his pants and boxers down to his knees. As soon as Riley sheaths himself, he helps me out of my jeans and thong. I re-straddle his waist and he pulls me flush against him, my breasts in his face, my stomach against his chest, and my thighs tucked in closely against his ribs. I look down at him, my face inches from his. I tuck a stray strand of hair around my ear as the rest of it acts as a curtain, shielding us.

  “I’ve been waiting for this.” The huskiness in his tone sends a shiver down my spine.

  “Touch me,” I whisper just as my lips close over his.

  With a tenderness I’ve never known before, Riley gently strokes my wet seam before gradually inserting a finger in me. My breath catches and I’m lost to sensation as he pumps in and out while the heel of his hand presses against my extremely sensitive clit.

  “Baby, I need in you,” he begs.

  I nod my head as he removes his finger and grips my hips. I reach between us, taking hold of his shaft at the base before I guide him inside me. Inch by glorious inch, I cover him in my heat until I’m finally seated, full to the hilt, and overwhelmed by the feeling of him inside me.

  “Whatever you do, baby,” he pants, “don’t lean back because you’ll hit the joystick.”

  “Okay.” I breathe out.

  With measured movements, I begin to glide up and down, alternating the pace between slow and steady at first, and then fast and hard. The sounds of teeth clashing, pants, groans, and grunts fill the aircraft. Sweat forms on our bodies as climaxes creep up on us. Riley takes control of the situation, guiding my movements as he pistons into me at a rapid pace. A tightening constricts my muscles, making them twitch as my toes curl and my eyes roll back in my head. It’s as if my body is a plank in the middle of the ocean and the waves roll and crash into me before eventually, I’m taken under and drowning in orgasmic bliss.

  The feel of his lips on the side of my neck and heavy breaths fanning over my heated skin bring me back to reality. My eyes flutter open to see a lazy smile plastered on Riley’s handsome, sated face. Both of our chests heave in an attempt to catch our breaths. He shakes his head from side to side.

  “Never again will I look at a Blackhawk the same.” He laughs.

  “Me either, babe, me either,” I whisper as I place a kiss on his shoulder.

  “Where’s Jen?” Riley pants as I strip his shirt over his head while he kicks the front door closed.

  My lips fuse with his as I murmur, “Out of town.”

  As he walks me backwards, I pull my shirt over my head and toss it aside before I rid myself of my bra. He has me so worked up that I’m breathless. All throughout dinner, he teased me with innocent touches that stopped just before becoming inappropriate. Those touches led to whispered confirmations of what he had in store for me tonight. Needless to say, by the time we arrived at my place, our hands and mouths were all over each other.

  The backs of my legs hit the arm of the couch.

  “Let me help you out of these.” With deft precision, Riley has my pants and thong off me in no time.

  It’s been three months since we admitted that we wanted to see where this relationship would take us. And in that time, we’ve only stayed at my apartment once before. Tonight will be the second time. It happens to be the first weekend in April, which is Jen’s annual work retreat… score for me. Every other time has been at his place, which is normally three or four days a week. I’ve tried to tell him that Jen wouldn’t care, but the gentleman he is doesn’t want to make her feel uneasy in her own space. If he only knew how many times I’ve heard her and her companions.

  My eyes roam over his glorious body. The abs that are defined but not to the point they look airbrushed, to the V that my tongue has first hand knowledge of, to the side pieces on each of his ribs. When I first discovered his tattoos, a thrill shot through me. It was the first time I’d ever dated someone with tattoos and I found it to be a major turn on. My fingers dance across the image of an American flag on his right side, ripples running through it like it was billowing in the wind, the colors and shading make it appear rustic. They glide across his abdominals to the illustration of three Fallen Soldier Battle Crosses. Sadness sweeps through me every time I see the three sets of combat boots, three rifles standing behind them, and three helmets placed on the butt stock of the rifles. They’re colored in gunmetal green, different hues of grey, and black. Three fallen soldiers. Three of Riley’s friends he lost during his first deployment. Three people who are dearly missed.

  “I’m right here. Be with me, babe,” he whispers when he notices me tracing the portrait. He cups my cheeks, bringing my attention back to him. “I’m right here,” his hand covers mine that’s still touching his tattoo, “not there,” and lifts to place over his heart, “here. This is where I am.”

  I sigh and nod. Now that I have Riley, I don’t know what I’d do without him. Knowing that he could deploy at any time is a thought that is never lost to me. And the fact that he could end up like the three friends he lost scares the hell out of me. I love him, but I haven’t told him. I’m not waiting for him to tell me first or anything. I just don’t want to rush our relationship. I want to build it, nurture it, and make a sturdy foundation for it before I tell him I love him.

  A smile grows upon my face. “I think you need help out of these, too,” I whisper. I reach out, taking hold of the button on his jeans. I make sure that my hand glides down, rubbing against the fabric of his white boxer briefs. As soon as I have his pants down around his ankles, he steps out of them and kicks them to the side. I chuckle at his eagerness.

  “You think it’s funny to tease me?” The huskiness in his tone wraps around me like a wave consuming a ship. It pulls me under with such a force that I’m suffocating, except I don’t want to come up to breathe. I want to drown in him—in us. He leans into me. A hand on my chest pushes me backwards to where my back meets the plush cushions behind me and my ass stays propped up on the arm of the couch. My breath expels in a rush when I feel his finger slide through the folds of my sex.

  “It’s not so funny now? Is it?”

  When I shake my head, he laughs at me and inserts a finger into my wet heat.

  “Riley.” His name, a plea.

  He leans over me as he inserts a second finger, torturing me with slow ministrations as he pumps them in and out of me in agonizing deliciousness.

  “I want you to tell me how funny it is,” he mumbles against the swells of my breasts.

  His fingers quicken their pace as he latches onto one of my nipples and his thumb finds my clit. My pants mix in with the sounds of his labored breaths. My hands clutch onto his shoulders as he switches from one side to another.

  “It’s not funny.”r />
  “No?” he murmurs around my nipple.

  “God… No, it’s not funny,” I groan out. I’m on the brink of orgasm, and just as I’m about to fall over the edge, his cock replaces his fingers. Riley’s thrusts are an unrelenting, blissful torture he’s never displayed before. And I revel in it.

  My head thrashes back and forth as he lifts my hips off the arm of the couch.

  “Fuck! Baby!” Riley groans.

  “Harder. Please, Riley, harder.” I beg. I’m not very vocal in the bedroom department, so when I whisper those words, it catches me off guard.

  And like a switch has been flipped, Riley becomes a madman. His thrusts become punishing and merciless as he pounds into the swollen flesh of my pussy.

  “Say it again. Talk dirty to me,” he orders.

  A sense of embarrassment hits me at his request.

  “Please.”

  “I want to hear you say you want my cock.”

  I shake my head back and forth, my eyes screwed tightly closed when his hand cups my cheek. Slowly, my eyes open, locking onto his.

  “It’s just us. Say it.”

  “I want your cock. Ahhh… Riley, I want to feel every inch of you.” My eyes never leave his as the words flow from my mouth.

  Riley surges forward, filling me to the hilt in unyielding, rapid succession. A tingling sensation takes hold, spreading through my body like a raging wildfire, consuming everything in its path, until I feel like I’m falling off the edge of a cliff and the only thing to catch me is unadulterated sated bliss. It’s not the first time we’ve had hot, mad, passionate sex, but I swear every time gets better and better.

  I barely recognize the weight of Riley’s upper body lying on top of mine, his arms snaking around my waist. Our labored pants are the only sounds to be heard throughout the apartment. Somehow, in the middle of our unbridled passion, we wound up with both of us lying on the couch, with my legs draped over the armrest. My fingers comb through his hair now that it’s grown out to an appropriate length. An awkward silence grows between us, that’s never been there before. And I know it has to do with the fact that I’ve never talked dirty to him before now, and the first time I do, I shut down.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, kissing the hollow of my throat.

  As I take a few minutes to sort through my emotions, he patiently waits, never rushing me to talk through something, even I have a hard time comprehending.

  “This man I used to date didn’t like it,” I whisper. I clear my throat and speak just above a whisper. “I tried it one time and he told me I sounded like a dirty whore and that he didn’t want a dirty whore. He wanted a respectable woman.”

  At my confession, Riley’s head snaps up. He props himself up on his forearms and looks at me, his eyes searching mine. His impenetrable stare leaves me feeling emotionally stripped bare, raw.

  “He was a damn fool.” The intensity behind his tone sends a chill through me. “How you spoke to me tonight, you asking for things that you wouldn’t normally ask for, there is nothing dirty about that. Those words, the words we share, are a declaration of the passion and heat between us. It’s a trust we’ve built with one another, to let our guard down with each other.” With both hands, he gently brushes my hair back off my face, soothing me. “You are not a dirty whore. You are a beautiful, vibrant, genuine, charismatic, sophisticated, witty woman. A woman who stands by my side, holds my hand,” slowly, he peppers tender kisses on my face, “lays down with me at night, makes love to me, and talks dirty to me,” he whispers against my lips. “And. I. Fucking. Love. It.”

  Two lone tears slide down out of the corner of my eye, trailing a path into my hair.

  “Thank you.”

  He nods.

  “This ex he did a number on you, huh?”

  My only answer comes in the form of a barely there nod.

  If he only knew.

  I was an open field, full and plentiful, needing tender love and care. My parents drove the plow over me, tearing up my soil. They left me broken. Thirsty for love. Hungry for affection. Todd was the asshole that came and poured concrete in the empty spaces of my soul, leaving me with scars as hard as stone. But Riley, he’s my jackhammer. Slowly, he digs out the unrelenting pieces of stone, giving me what neither my parents nor Todd would. He replenishes me in a way that no one ever has. He’s saving me and doesn’t even know it.

  I want so badly to tell him about what Todd did to me, but I refuse to let that man steal any more of my thoughts, emotions, or time. Next to Jen, Riley is the one good thing I have in my life, and I will not let Todd ruin us.

  “Do you think you might be able to get a weekend off in the near future?” Riley asks.

  We’re lying on his chaise lounge, my head in his lap. His fingers sweep through my hair, fanning it out over his legs as we watch the sunset.

  “Maybe? Why?”

  “Because I’d like to take you home with me.”

  “To meet your family?” I ask, an uneasiness settling in my stomach.

  Obviously, he means for me to meet his family, but if he wants me to meet his, then he’ll want to meet mine. And lets face it, my family excretes poison from their pores, a poison I refuse to subject Riley to.

  “Yes, to meet my family.” He chuckles.

  When I don’t answer him, he says, “Unless you don’t want to.” His voice holds an apprehension that I’m not accustomed to hearing from him.

  I shake my head as I look up at him. “Of course I want to go,” I answer with trepidation.

  “You don’t sound too happy about it. Most women would be ecstatic about meeting the folks.” He smiles down at me and I return the gesture.

  “I’m just nervous. Meeting the parents is a big deal.”

  And it is. The old saying goes most men marry women who are similar to their mother and women marry men who are similar to their father. I’m an exception to that rule because my father is a tyrant and there is no way in hell I’d marry someone like him. The thought alone is comical. But what if Riley’s different? What if he worships the ground his mother walks on and she doesn’t like me? What if I’m not enough for her son? For the first time in two years, I feel inadequate.

  “It is,” he answers with a nod. “But I can assure you, my parents will love you.”

  “Oh yeah? Why’s that?” I ask looking back out at the sunset.

  He doesn’t answer for a while. The sounds of birds’ songs getting lost in the wind settle in around us. His fingers continue to comb through my hair.

  “Because I do,” he whispers.

  Those three words capture my attention. All breathing stops as I slowly sit up and look at him. Riley takes my hands in his and pulls me onto his lap so that I straddle him.

  “I love you, Kels. It may seem crazy because we’ve only been together, what, four months now, but I do. I think I’ve loved you for a while, and I get it if you don’t feel the same way, but hopefully, eventually, you’ll lo—“

  I crush my lips to his, effectively silencing his rambling. My arms snake around his neck, my fingers clutching onto the hair at the back of his head. Our tongues sweep and glide and twist to a song of their own as I pour every amount of emotion that I have for this man. I pull back, my eyes gazing deeply into his.

  “I love you, too.” A grin tugs at the corner of my lips. “I’d love to meet your family, Riley, but right now, I’d really love it if you’d make love to me.”

  Grasping my hips, he scoots forward on the chaise, and as he goes to stand, my legs wrap around his waist and he carries me upstairs to his room. No words are spoken between us. Nothing needs to be said. My back meets the comfort of his duvet. Riley’s blue eyes stare into mine. The pure love I see staring back at me has my eyes tearing up. These aren’t tears of sadness or hurt. These are tears of pure joy. For the first time in my life, I’ve met a man that I love wholeheartedly and that I know for certain returns the sentiment.

  With my legs draped over the edge of the
bed, Riley stands above me. He grasps one foot at a time, his eyes never leaving mine, and slowly removes my socks. His strong muscular hands massage each foot with care.

  “There is not one thing I don’t love about you. Every piece of your heart, I adore and every part of your body is mine to worship.” The huskiness in his timbre strikes with a fervor, resonating in my core.

  My man is practicing the art of seduction and he is damn good at it. With a leisurely pace, his hands glide up my jean-clad legs. When he reaches the button, he pops it open, pulls the zipper down, and pulls them down over my hips with a delicate ease until he drops them on the floor. Riley’s eyes slowly peruse my body as he takes in every single inch of me. His eyes grow heavy with lust and his lids drop to half-mast. As his hands smooth over my feet, they stop on my calves.

  “These legs.” He shakes his head. “Damn, I love these legs. I love the way they wrap around my waist, the way they tangle with mine when we’re sleeping, and the way they look draped over my shoulders as I savor that sweet pussy of yours.”

  Goose bumps pepper my skin at the erotic words he speaks to me. Slowly, he drops to his knees, the tips of his fingers skimming the insides of my thighs until he reaches the edges of my thong and slowly pulls it down and off me. He drapes my thighs over his shoulders. He doesn’t touch me, nothing. The anticipation of what’s to come mounts higher and higher until the tip of his tongue parts my folds.

  “Definitely one of my favorite sights,” he murmurs. The vibration of his voice muffled against sensitive flesh has me moaning out in pleasure. “You better get used to making that sound, baby, because I plan on showing you just how much I love you.”

  His tongue laps and swirls against my clit just before he sucks it into his mouth. My back arches off the bed, hands clutching the sheets as he brings me to the brink of ultimate pleasure only to leave me hanging, dangling, and teetering on a steep cliff, one I’m more than ready to leap off of. Those strong fingers I’ve become accustomed to, crook inside of me, sending shards of sensation detonating throughout my body as I mewl in pleasure. My head tosses from side to side.