Officer in Pursuit

by Ranae Rose

  He made an involuntary sound in the back of his throat – something like a moan. “Oh yes you do. Trust me. I’ve been fantasizing about this all summer, and given the circumstances I think I’d be a real asshole if this ended the way it does in my fantasies.”

  “I know what you’re saying.” She stared directly into his eyes, her gaze unwavering. “I’m not naïve – I want to sleep with you.”

  There went that sound again, the one that made it seem like he was choking on the unbelievable reality of Kerry wanting to have sex with him, now of all times.

  “You have no idea how much I like hearing you say that.” He struggled for something else to say, something to make really, really sure that she knew what she was getting into. He thought of asking her whether it was the wine talking, but remembered that it had only been one glass, hours ago, with dinner.

  “After all you’ve been through these past few days, are you absolutely sure you want to do this now?” he finally asked. It was the best thing he could come up with – most of his blood had migrated south, leaving him decidedly stupid.

  “Yes. I’m sure. Please don’t baby me – I know you want it too.” She pressed a hand against his dick, rubbing her palm against it, slow and hard. “I can see that you want it. I can feel it.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Grey stifled a moan and almost came in his jeans. Jesus! This was like the beginning of one of his wildest fantasies.

  He grabbed Kerry by both arms, pulled her farther into his lap and kissed her, hard. Their tongues twisted together again, and she straddled him, her thighs squeezing his. His erection settled in the apex of her thighs, and though they were both clothed, it was the most erotic thing he’d experienced in what felt like an eternity.

  He finally did what he’d been longing to all summer: ran his hands all over her body, touching everything, stroking her flat belly and cupping her breasts in his hands. She leaned in as he touched her, pressing herself against him, getting closer and closer until she was flat against his chest.

  Her hands were between them and he realized what she was doing when he felt her tugging on his jeans zipper.

  He hadn’t thought he could want this more, but as she unfastened his jeans, desire and urgency hit him hard, like a one-two punch. All the reservation – the faraway looks and stunted explanations – that he’d come to associate with Kerry was gone now, bizarrely non-existent.

  Was it because the truth had come out about her ex-husband? Had she thought, for some crazy reason, that he wouldn’t be interested if he knew she’d been married before? Was this some sort of weird test designed to determine whether he still wanted her, now that he knew?

  And if it was, didn’t she realize that no one would be able to resist her like this, regardless of how they felt?

  He caught her by the wrist, stopped her just as – Jesus – she pulled down the waistband of his boxer briefs and brushed his shaft with her fingers.

  “You’re sure you wanna do this?” He had to ask again, because he was dangerously close to the point of not caring why they were doing this or what her motivation was. “We don’t have to. If that’s what you think—”

  “I’m sure.”

  Her reply galvanized the unbearable lust rising inside him, the urge to give in to what he’d been thinking about every time he jacked off for the past five months. He couldn’t hold back anymore – not now that he was sure she didn’t want him to.

  When he let go of her wrist, it was so he could slip his hands beneath the hem of her shirt and begin unwrapping every last inch and curve of the body she always covered so modestly, like she didn’t have more beauty to show off than most women could ever hope for.

  He went as slowly as he could bear to, lifting her shirt over her head and running his hands all over her sides, belly and back before he unhooked her bra.

  He was momentarily frozen at the sight of her breasts, bare and almost exactly what he’d imagined when he’d seen her swimsuit clinging to their curves. They were small and round, soft-looking above the flatness of her belly, beside the tightness of her slender arms. A perfect complement to her petite frame, and an irresistible contrast to her toned body.

  When he pressed his lips against one, the skin was just as soft as he’d thought, like silk against his mouth. Her nipples were a dark pink and hard – hard against his cheek, the corner of his mouth and then his tongue as he drew one past his teeth.

  She drew a sharp breath he could feel filling her lungs, pressing her breast more firmly against his face. And she arched against him, into him.

  He had his arms around her and didn’t want to let her go, or stop what he was doing. And for a while he didn’t, but there was still more he wanted to see, touch, taste…

  His undone jeans were open in his lap, and his dick brushed her thigh as he unzipped her jeans too, then peeled them off, revealing a pair of blue panties. They were made out of some impossibly smooth fabric, and the cut was like tiny shorts. He was pretty sure women had a name for the style, but couldn’t think of it – not when his mind was fogged by the sheer ecstasy of feeling her pussy radiating heat through the thin material, warming his fingers.

  Whatever they were called, he liked them because they rode up in the back, exposing the lower half of her ass to his touch. He gripped her by her ass cheeks and pulled her all the way back into his lap, groaning when her thigh rubbed hot and bare against his cock.

  When she was settled, her pussy was pressed against his shaft. If it hadn’t been for her panties, he could’ve been inside her.

  She wriggled against him, making her silk-smooth panties rub against the head of his cock, teasing him almost to the point of coming. God, he’d wanted this for a long time, and he hadn’t expected it to happen tonight. It felt too good to be true. He had to make a conscious effort to rein himself in, to keep from losing it right there, all over her little blue shorts and flat belly.

  The thought drove home a fresh realization – a god-awful one. “I don’t have a condom,” he said, his lust stubbornly multiplying instead of fading. God, he couldn’t stop now. “Do you?”

  She froze. “No. Shit… I didn’t plan this.”

  He hadn’t either, but earlier that summer he’d put a condom in his wallet during a fit of wishful thinking. Last week, it’d fallen out and he’d discovered a tear in the package. That’d been just after Kerry had declined to walk out onto the pier with him and he hadn’t bothered to replace it.

  He bit back a groan. “I’d go get some, but I don’t want to leave you alone.”

  Visions of strolling through a drug store with a raging boner haunted him. They should offer condoms in the drive-through pharmacy window – they’d probably make a killing.

  Anyway, he couldn’t leave her, even if he somehow managed to stuff his dick back into his jeans.

  She wrapped her hand around his shaft, shocking him with heat and pressure. “We could still do things. Maybe not exactly what we want, but still…”

  She ran her hand up and down his shaft with a boldness that would’ve floored him if he hadn’t already been sitting back on the couch. His balls drew up tight against his body, and he could feel the inevitable building up of tension inside him already, pure heat pooling at the base of his spine.

  What they were doing was so unexpected – so fucking perfect, except for the lack of a condom – that he didn’t want to ruin it. Didn’t want to drag her out of the house and risk stirring up her fear again. He wanted to keep her here not only for his own sake, but so he could keep her fear at bay. Give her something else to focus on – something good.

  Pleasure instead of pain.

  “We could,” he said, and, in a feat of sheer willpower, pulled her hand off of his dick. “You’re first though.”

  His mouth watered as he slid her panties down over her hips, peeling them away and exposing her pussy.

  He couldn’t look without touching.

  She was wet – that was the first thing he noticed. Wet and
tight, he found when he nudged a finger in, gently rubbing between her lips, unable to keep out, even if he wouldn’t be able to bury himself there like he wanted. Not tonight, anyway.

  She gasped, went almost rigid.

  “You okay?”

  “Yes. It just … feels so good.”

  He felt her gaze on his lap, heard the change in her voice as she looked down.

  He was hard – throbbing. Still exposed, just like she’d left him, his cock hard and straight above where she’d shoved down his underwear and jeans. He longed to feel her hand around his shaft again, but knew he wouldn’t last long. Ignoring the ache in his balls, he shifted against the couch, lifting her out of his lap.

  “Trade me,” he said, and lowered her down to where he’d been sitting.

  “Why?”

  He knelt in front of her and pushed her knees apart, spreading her thighs. She was pink and wet beneath a triangle of dark hair, so wet he could hardly believe it. With as calm and controlled as she usually acted, he never would’ve guessed she might feel this way behind the façade, that he might peel her panties away to find her so ready for him.

  “Because you’re up first, remember?” He touched her pussy lips again, rubbing and getting his fingers moist before he pushed one inside her – all the way to the knuckle, this time.

  She clenched up tight around him before he even realized what was happening. So tight his finger ached, and he couldn’t help but be amazed. Slowly, he pulled back out and pushed back in, fucking her that way.

  She didn’t say anything, just gripped him tighter and tighter, pushing back against the couch with her body.

  After a while he stopped and leaned in between her thighs, breathing in the sweet musky scent he’d first detected when he’d peeled away her panties. His dick was pressed against the edge of the couch cushion, and God help him, even that had his nerve endings sparking. He was so hot for her that part of him was terrified he might spontaneously combust, be reduced to ash before he could live out his fantasy – one of the many fantasies he had that revolved around her.

  He pressed his open mouth against her pussy and moaned, his head spinning with the perfect shock of her heat and softness against his tongue, her taste. It was better than he’d anticipated, a trinity that made his dick twitch as he ran his tongue over her slit, then settled on her clit.

  It was small and hard, and she made noises when he touched it – breathy noises, like moans and gasps and any number of things in between. When he sucked on it, her hips bucked against his mouth, almost throwing him off.

  He opened his eyes and saw that she was gripping the edge of the couch cushion with both hands, her knuckles white. Her eyes were still closed, and her head was tilted back. He’d tried to imagine her like this before, in his fantasies, but hadn’t done a very good job.

  The reality of her being reduced to this because of him was the ultimate power-trip, everything he’d hoped for. He sucked her clit harder, worked it with his tongue, until she was panting.

  When her hips started bucking again – rolling beneath the hands he’d placed firmly on her thighs – he knew she was close. He could feel the tension not just in her movements, but in her muscles. She was going to come against his open mouth, any second now. The thought made him feel fever-hot, too jacked-up by sheer desire for his own good.

  He’d never been so hungry to give someone pleasure, to see and feel and hear them get off because of him. Sitting back with her thighs spread wide in front of him, completely naked, she made him want her harder than he’d ever wanted anyone or anything else.

  She cried out when she came. It was a sharp sound that faded into a long shudder, one he tried to prolong by lashing her clit with his tongue, pressing his mouth hard against her as her hips continued to roll, generating friction that pushed him into a haze of pride and longing.

  It took her a few seconds to open her eyes, even after he stopped. When she did, she was utterly still, frozen against the couch. Her dark eyes locked with his, and when she blinked she shook her head too, pushing her hair out of her face.

  He ran a hand up her inner thigh, massaging, stopping just short of touching her pussy lips.

  A frisson seemed to roll through her, shaking her from her bare, slender shoulders to her toes, which bumped against his arm.

  “Why don’t you trade me?” she asked.

  He kept rubbing, marveling at how relaxed her muscles felt now as opposed to when they’d been rigid with tension, just before she’d climaxed. “I don’t think so. Not yet.”

  “No?” Her eyes widened, then narrowed, like she was trying to figure him out.

  “I’m going to do what I just did to you again.”

  “You don’t have to. Let me—”

  “I want to. I’m dying to. If you want me to do anything different this time, now’s your chance to say something.”

  Yeah, he was dying to come, but feeling her lose it like that had been amazing – too amazing to experience just once. As badly as he was aching, he knew it’d feel that much better when he came if he gave her all the pleasure he could first.

  She didn’t protest, just stared at him looking stunned, her lips cracked.

  “Don’t do anything different,” she finally said. “Do it like you just did. Again.”

  He rose up onto his knees and reached for her, taking her face in his hands and pressing his mouth against hers.

  She yielded to him immediately, letting her lips press soft and open against his. She tasted a little different – a little sweeter – to him now that he had the flavor of her pussy on his tongue, altering his perception of everything for the better.

  They kissed for a small eternity, their tongues sliding deeper and deeper into each other’s mouths, until Grey pulled away.

  He was breathing hard and his heart was beating brutally against his ribs. Her touch was a powerful stimulant, her kisses like some sort of amphetamine. He felt invincible, unable to hold still. Pulling away, he lowered himself between her thighs again, this time pulling her legs up onto his shoulders.

  She hooked her feet behind his back, latching her legs around him, raising her pussy against his watering mouth. He started with a few bold strokes against her lips, parting them and delving inside her, as far as he could. Then he returned to her clit, starting with gentle strokes and building up until he was licking and sucking again, counting her every heaving breath, greedy to hear more.

  For about ten minutes he ravaged her that way, reveling in the way she kept her feet hooked, kept holding onto him, like she couldn’t stand the thought of him stopping.

  He couldn’t stand the idea either. He might not be able to fuck her like he wanted tonight, but having his face buried in her wet pussy was a close second. She tasted so good, smelled so good, felt so good against his lips and jaw … he knew this’d be burnt permanently into his memory, a slice of heaven he’d take to the grave.

  When she came, she cried out more loudly than she had the first time. She writhed too, finally losing her hold on him, her feet unhooking to dangle in the air.

  He gripped her thighs, holding them up as he finished her, drew every last gasping breath out of her that he could.

  When he raised his head and lowered her back onto the couch, she was limp. Her eyes were bright though and her cheeks were flushed, her lips still swollen from when they’d kissed. Her breasts rose and fell with every breath, nipples still hard.

  He’d never seen anyone look so fuckable, had never wanted to fuck anyone so bad. It was easy to imagine pulling her on top of him and shoving his dick up and into her hot, wet pussy – he’d glide in, even as he stretched her, like he was meant to be there.

  But for now, it could only be a fantasy. He wouldn’t do that to her – wouldn’t give in, no matter how crazy the temptation was. Instead, he settled on the couch beside her.

  Sometime during what he’d done to her, his jeans and boxer briefs had slid well past his hips, almost halfway down his thighs. Kerry was s
taring at him – at his cock, still so hard, so aching.

  “I wish you’d take your shirt off,” she said. “I love looking at you without it when we’re at the beach.”

  He peeled off his t-shirt and tossed it aside, let it land somewhere on the floor, behind the couch.

  She pressed her hands against his chest, then climbed halfway into his lap again as she ran them all over him, from his shoulders to his hips.

  His dick throbbed, and a second later, she wrapped a hand around it.

  He groaned, unable to help it. After what he’d just done, he wanted her – any way he could get her – more than ever. He couldn’t help thrusting his hips, sending the head of his cock spearing through her curled fingers.

  Her hands were small and his shaft was thick. Wrapped so tightly around his dick, her fingers looked delicate, near-white and feminine. She added a second hand and gripped him tight, began to stroke.

  He watched until he couldn’t stand it anymore, until the mounting pressure was so overwhelming he had to tip his head back and close his eyes.

  When he was within seconds of coming, she leaned in closer, her lips nearly brushing his ear. “Do you want me to use my mouth? Like you did for me…”

  He groaned again as visions of her lips sealed tight around his shaft hit him, so vivid it almost seemed real. He wanted it – bad – but she was touching him in a way that made it impossible for him to hold back.

  The friction of her palms and fingers against his shaft was more than he could stand any longer, more than he could resist.

  “No,” he said, “don’t stop.”

  The last thing he wanted was for his orgasm to be shot dead in the water. Not when he was just starting to come, when all the heat and pressure that’d built up inside him was crashing down on him like a breaker, leaving him blind and breathless.

  Fierce pleasure hit him hard, making him tense up and groan. He felt come running hot over the head of his dick and her hands, and heard her make a soft sound, like she was surprised.