by Ivy Carter
Even if it was just to see to my sexual needs.
Roger was never like that. Even at the beginning, I noticed his selfishness in the bedroom and everywhere else. But by the end it was so much worse… I push out all thoughts of my ex and focus back on my moment of pleasure earlier tonight. How good Smith’s mouth felt licking me. Holy hell, the guy could have a doctorate in oral sex. I’ve never had someone do the things he did to me. Never felt those sensations before of my pussy lips being sucked into a mouth.
My clit throbs as I think about it, and I reach down, slick my fingers between my damp lips. I can still hear Smith’s breath drawing in that second before he first licked me, the one where he looked up at me and told me what he wanted. Made me give him permission.
Why did that arouse me so? Why does the thought of turning myself over to him drive me wild, make me almost shake with desire? I should be scared—I told myself on the long drive to Rock Bridge that after Roger, when I was ready to date again, I’d never date someone who wanted to control me. I’d find someone who made me feel free.
But it’s strange—even though Smith took control during our brief encounter, I never felt like he would take advantage of me or hurt me. In fact, I’d never felt so safe in all my life, despite the excitement and danger inherent in the situation.
Still, despite my attraction to him, I know Smith isn’t as safe or simple as I’d like to believe. Something about Smith makes me feel like he would have many demands of me. Would they only be in bed, or would they extend elsewhere?
I think about him whispering in my ear, telling me all the things he wants to do with me, and my lower belly tightens in response to the fantasy. Smith isn’t a boring-sex kind of man. He’d push my limits. It was easy for me to give in at the bar because I knew the bathroom door was locked. But what if he’d left it unlocked?
The thought both scares me and makes my clit pulse. Then someone could have walked in on us, seen him licking me, seen me coming on his hand… My breath catches in my throat and I can’t resist stroking myself more at the thought. My pussy gets super wet, the juices sliding around on my lower lips as I run my finger along the slit. I’m panting, and my nipples bead and harden when I imagine Smith sucking the tips into his mouth.
My orgasm builds fast. I let the fantasy continue, and in my mind, Smith grips the base of my neck as he drives into me. His eyes consume me, his cock fills me, his other hand slides along my skin, and my flesh grows hot and sensitive and tingling, and I’m frantic as I finger my clit, the small bud pulsing beneath my strokes.
I feel a surge crest in my pussy, and then it crashes over me and I give a sharp cry out before remembering that my window is open. I swallow back the rest of the sound and buck on the mattress, my channel dripping juices along my slit, my body radiating my orgasm all the way to the tips of my fingers and toes. I turn my head and press my mouth to my pillow and let the sensation subside slowly.
A lethargy sweeps in then, and I sink into the mattress, let the drowsy post-orgasm feeling lure me into sleep. The last thing I think of is Smith’s brilliant eyes.
I blink awake and sleepily look at my bedside clock. It’s a little before three in the morning. Did I hear something? It sounded like…
There’s a rapid knock on my door. My heart lurches in surprise.
Roger. It’s Roger—has to be.
Oh God, he’s here. He found me. I scramble to throw on a pair of jeans and a shirt, and I grab my phone and dial 9 and 1. The baseball bat I also bought at Target is in my other hand. I inch to the front door, pulse jumping hard, stomach a mass of knots, and peek through the peephole.
No one is there.
What do I do? Do I stay inside, or do I risk it and peek to see if Roger is out there? I swallow and stiffen my spine. I’m not going to let him make me afraid anymore. Plus, my phone is right here.
I prop the bat against the wall, whip the door open, and step outside, finger hovering over the last 1.
And see Smith turning the corner on the sidewalk away from me.
“Smith,” I find myself calling out as the tension leaks from my body. I exhale hard in sheer relief. Thank God. Not Roger at all. But why is he here?
He spins to me and seems hesitant to walk back in my direction, pausing for a moment. When he nears me, he says, “I woke you up, didn’t I. It was a dumb impulse to come here so late at night. But…” I can’t see his eyes well in the dark; they’re hooded, unreadable.
I turn my phone off and stick it in my back pocket. “But?” I nudge him.
“But I can’t stop tasting you in my mouth and I needed more.” Smith stares at me hard, not moving still, just sexy as hell and intense, the streetlights glinting off his dark blond hair.
Fuck. My pulse jumps in response to his reply. That’s the hottest thing anyone has ever said to me. I draw in a steadying breath. Earlier I wondered if I’d have to make the next move. But he’s here, and I’m not letting him get away.
I step forward and let myself gingerly stroke the column of his throat, his Adam’s apple, right below the clean line of his beard. The knot jumps under my fingers as he swallows. I stare up at his mouth. “I want more, too,” I admit to him. Let my fingers dance up to his lower lip and glide it along the smooth flesh there. I force myself to also admit, “I…I touched myself in bed thinking about it.”
There’s a long moment where neither of us move, and then he darts his tongue out to taste my fingertips. And before I realize what’s happening, Smith’s hands are around my waist and he’s pushing me in the apartment, the door thudding closed behind us. He blindly fumbles with the doorknob lock behind him, tugs the phone out of my back pocket, puts it on the small table.
“I need to fuck you, Aubrey,” he states bluntly. There’s no shyness in him like there is in me. Smith owns his sexuality, and it’s so alluring.
“Yes,” I tell him. I want it, too. As soon as I saw him out there, all my fear had vanished, replaced by the vision of Smith. He’s here. He’s really here. Seeking me out. I did this to him, made him find me after work. A small, feminine thrill runs along my skin.
Smith pushes my hair to one side and his tongue strokes my neck. I shudder, and he sucks the wet area. “I need to taste every fucking inch of your body.”
When he says it, I feel like he legitimately means every inch. The thought has my pussy clenching. I don’t speak, just nod, let his mouth drift along my throat, up my jawline, him giving me small licks and sucks everywhere.
Then he stops and grabs the hem of my shirt, jerking it over my head in one smooth move. “Fuck,” he groans as he sees my bare breasts—in my hurry earlier, I didn’t bother to put on a bra.
My chest is heaving under his heavy scrutiny. I refuse to squirm, just let him get his fill. He reaches up, cups their weight, gives a soft squeeze that has me gasping, arching under his fingers.
“Take your jeans off,” he tells me, stepping back.
I remove the jeans, letting them slide down my bare hips, puddling on the ground. I’m now fully naked before this man, while he’s still completely clothed. The vulnerability should make me uncomfortable, but instead, I’m throbbing and wet at the thought of what’s going to come next.
Smith gives me a slow smile and moves one hand to stroke the back of my neck. “Such a good girl,” he murmurs, and something in those words unfurls a need in my core. I want to hear him say that to me again and again.
I don’t have much sexual experience, but if I can please him by doing these small things, I will.
Smith’s hand strokes down my spine, a smooth movement ending at my hip. That heat, the promise, are in his eyes. My breath catches.
“Are you…going to get undressed?” I asked him.
His lip curls in one corner. “All in good time. I need to taste more of you first. Take me to your bedroom, sweetheart.”
I slip my hand into his, feeling my heart give a strange squeeze at the gesture, and lead him to my room. The lights are still off, the sheets
in disarray. He takes me to what is obviously my side of the bed, from the dent in the pillow, and gently nudges me down to sitting.
The light is thin in here, but I can see him somewhat, his strong frame, the darkness of his tattoos. I want to ask him to strip and let me touch them, but a bigger part of me wants to wait and see what happens.
“Lie back on the bed,” Smith tells me in a gruff voice. I do ask he asks, my thighs trembling a bit in anticipation as I’m exposed to him, and he gives a small groan. “Fuck. Your body is so beautiful, Aubrey. It’s all I can do to keep from spreading your legs apart and fucking you right now.” The bed dips down when he sits on the edge, and then his hands are sliding along my calves.
Smith’s fingers are deft as he skates them around the muscles, dips to the dents behind my knees. The gesture is light, but it sends sensations rioting through my body. I feel myself starting to clench, tighten.
He pulls back in order to quick strip off his clothes, and I watch, in awe as his amazing body is revealed to me. But then he’s back on the bed, pushing his strong body between my thighs, parting my legs for him.
I wish I could see him in full, really explore all those tattoos on his body. His mouth glides across the arch of my left foot, and I gasp at the way his tongue licks and swirls. Oh God, who knew having your foot kissed could feel so good?
There is no rush. Smith takes his time, tasting my flesh, leaving me quivering with every second that passes. My breath comes in small, shallow pants. By the time he reaches the apex of my thighs, I’m throbbing in earnest, soaking wet. I grip his hair and silently nudge him toward me there, needing to feel that mouth on me again.
The first swipe of his tongue along my slit makes me cry out. At this point, I don’t even care if the window is open. I don’t want to hide the way he is making me feel. I can’t keep quiet.
He grips my hips and licks me, the movement becoming faster, more frantic. I hear him groan against my wetness, and I almost lose it.
“You taste so fucking good, I want to eat you all day,” he growls. “Good God, your pussy is a sin.”
I feel the orgasm surging close, so close. “Please. Right there.” His tongue is doing deliciously wicked things to me, and I need more. I’m tightening, so ready to explode any second now.
I feel his fingers stroke along my lower lips, and then he pushes deep into my pussy, curving the digits up. I groan. I’m almost there, almost there…
And then his teeth sink into the tender flesh right on the inside of my thighs, and I lose it. Something about the small flare of pain, mixed with the thrusting of his fingers in me, makes my orgasm erupt, and I gasp, then cry out my release. It feels like the orgasm goes on forever and ever, and he keeps his teeth locked on the skin, his tongue licking as he moves his jaw ever so slightly.
Oh God, it’s so erotic and dirty, and it makes my pussy drip.
He releases the flesh and gives it small kisses as I slowly fall back to earth, then his tongue takes a thick swipe along my slit. “Fuck yes, God, you’re so fucking sexy and I want to tear you apart.”
In this moment, I would give Smith anything he wanted. The possessive edge to his voice, the way his fingers dig into my hips as he slides up my body, the soft warmth of his breath when he’s fully on top of me and staring down into my eyes…it’s a rush, and it leaves me heady and desperate for him.
I clench his back and blindly grind my pussy against him. His cock is massive and hard and it fits in my cleft perfectly. I am nothing in this moment but sensation and arousal, and I need this so much that my body hurts for it.
“Slow down, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his hand fisting my hair and pulling me back into the moment. “I gotta get a condom on. Gimme a sec.” Before he moves though, he takes my mouth in a raw, hungry kiss, one that thoroughly owns me. His tongue, which tastes like me, plunges into me, stroking my tongue. Far too soon, he pulls away and leaves me panting on the bed.
Then he’s back on top of me, and I part my thighs and welcome his weight on me.
My heart is a thrumming bird. Suddenly I’m nervous. I’ve only been with two men before, both in serious relationships. I’ve never done this, never met a guy and had casual sex with him. How will I feel tomorrow morning?
Smith reaches a hand up and strokes my jaw. I can see the concern in his eyes. “Hey. Where are you right now?”
I give a shaky smile. “Sorry. I’m here. I’m just…this is kind of new for me…”
He gives that crooked grin that melts me a little. “Kinda figured.”
“Oh? How so?”
His low laugh slides across my skin. “You don’t exactly scream ‘casual hookup.’”
At first I’m a little taken aback. Is that a bad thing? Yet here he is, despite him reading me so well. “So why are you…”
“Why am I here then?” Smith leans down until there’s barely a breath between us. I can feel his heat and my own body surges in response. He’s lying naked on top of me, his cock pulsing between my thighs, and I’m so aware of my body that I’m growing more aroused and less afraid by the moment. “Because I can’t fucking seem to stay away from you.”
Then he takes my mouth in a searing kiss, and I find my pelvis arching toward him, seeking him inside me.
One smooth move, and he’s fully nestled in my pussy.
Smith groans into my mouth. “Sweet Jesus, you’re so fucking impossibly tight. Oh God.”
I squeeze my inner wall around his thickness, savoring the way it fills me. I want him to move. I want to feel what it’s like to fully let go and be swept away by passion. I need to. “Please, I…” I can’t seem to find the words to articulate what I want.
But he knows. He pulls out with a slow moan, then surges back in, out, and suddenly he’s pounding me and I’m hanging on and almost unable to breathe. His cock stuffs me so deeply he’s almost hitting my cervix, and the sound of our bodies slapping against each other is insanely erotic.
Smith’s hand buries in my hair as he clenches my scalp, and the other hand slides under my back to pin me against him. He pistons in me, plunges hard, relentlessly. The action rubs my clit as well, and impossibly, I feel another orgasm approaching.
“Does this feel good?” he murmurs in my ear. “Tell me what you want.”
“I…” I swallow a gasp when he hits my G-spot with the head of his cock. “I want it hard. Really hard.”
“God, yes,” he says on a groan, and then he withdraws fully, pausing one second, then jackhammers my pussy like a man possessed.
I can’t think. I can’t breathe.
I am overwhelmed, gloriously taken by this man who makes me feel so fucking alive that I’m not even myself anymore. I let my legs fall wide open and dig my nails into his back. The bite of my fingernails seems to encourage him; his eyes darken as he looks at me, and he almost seems primal.
“You loved being bitten, didn’t you,” he growls.
I whimper and nod.
His teeth latch on to the tender flesh above my nipple and he sucks, still pumping into me. His hands are grabbing my hips so hard I’m sure I’ll have bruises there. He moves his mouth down and tugs my nipple between his teeth, sending shockwaves straight to my clit. Oh my God, oh God, oh yes…
When his teeth bite the tip of the nipple and pull it away from my breast, I explode right on his cock. Pulsing wave after wave, erupting in my body and sending me crying out against him.
“Fuck yes, baby,” he pants against my nipple, licking the rigid tip. His thrusts grow more erratic, his breathing unsteady. He’s close.
I want to push him over the edge. Give him some of the pleasure he’s given me. “Please come,” I breathe. “I want it so badly.”
The words seem to unleash him. Smith gives one last hard thrust and then he grows stiff, his body completely flush with mine, his eyes locked on me with a heat and an edge of some other emotion that makes my lungs lock.
In this moment, as he pours his seed into the condom, I feel like he sees righ
t through me. Like there’s nothing between us, no walls, no pretense. And I can see him too, and it’s an intensity I’ve never experienced in my life.
Smith closes his eyes, seems to struggle to breathe. He presses a tender kiss to my forehead, and for some reason, that simple, unexpected gesture gives me a lump in my throat.
This felt like more than just fucking.
This felt dangerous. Exciting. Addictive.
Neither of us speaks; the air is thick with our silence, the weight of what just happened at the end of our sex.
I don’t know what to do, and I lie there, feeling awkward. Then he stretches out beside me, shifting my body so my back is curled against his chest.
And the tension seeps out of my bones. Smith’s gentle strokes on my hip, my back, lure me into a drowsy satisfaction. I let my eyes close and I fall asleep.
Smith
Sunlight peeks through the blinds as I open my eyes and awaken. As consciousness comes to me, I realize I’m not in my bed, in my apartment above the bar.
And I’m not alone.
There’s a soft body curled against my back, small fingers resting on my hip, gentle breaths puffing along my skin. Aubrey. I’m in her apartment after we had sex last night. Sex that was so fucking hot it was ridiculous. Sex that ended in a weird moment where we had some kind of deeper connection.
Discomfort makes my body hot, and once again around her I feel the urge to both get closer to her and run the fuck away. She saw me last night, saw beneath my normal demeanor. And I could tell that she was nervous, so I tried to get her to relax and go to sleep.
Then I fell asleep beside her, and I slept better than I have in months.
I let myself indulge for just a moment in the pleasure of her against me, still asleep. Sex with her was different than any I’ve ever had.
I shift to lying on my back, and Aubrey moves in her sleep in response, pressing against my side. She’s so vulnerable and small in her sleep that I feel a surge of protection over her. I move my arm so she’s lying on my chest. Above her right breast is a small bruise, where I bit her last night because I fucking couldn’t hold it back.
