by JR King
“Shut up, Alex,” she gasped hotly on my neck.
“This is a temporary fix. I want to take my time with you afterward. Savor each moment between us. Hold on.” My hands groped her ass, separating it from the wall so she was arched to receive me better. Elena went crazy, burying her face into my neck, losing herself somewhere in between here and now, whimpering nonsensical things.
My pace picked up. I was so into it that I forgot my surroundings, smacking her head into the wall. We both had a good laugh at that and then I was sliding back in and out of her with a fervor that sent chills up my spine.
Not long after that, my thrusts became choppy, losing their rhythm. Sweat drops coming from both of us dripped in between our bodies, fusing with each other. My movements changed from powerful thrusting to grinding, massaging my flesh. Judging by the massive amount of panting Elena put herself through, and the unrestrained wetness, she wasn’t far off from completion. She froze as she came, arching away from the wall and thrusting into me. I let a consequent groan tear from my throat as I spurted powerfully into her greedily milking inner muscles, coming in a flood I couldn’t stop.
I wanted a quick fuck because I had something special in mind for tonight.
*
Half a day later, lying in bed on the lazy Sunday afternoon, I trailed a fingertip over the curve of Elena’s shoulder, careful not to wake her. She slept peacefully. Soft, kittenish noises arose each time she rolled over onto her back. In the half-light of approaching sunset, lying spent on the cool sheets, I tried drifting off to sleep, with no avail. Vegas felt like Hornyville. Evanescent straws of sunlight came together in a rainbow. I couldn’t get a wink of sleep in my state of rumination. Couldn’t stave off my need to fuck again.
“Goddammit, little one. I love you,” I whispered. “I want to marry you. I want to impregnate you. I want us to be one. I want to bite, lick, spank, smack, whip, and rut you, all in one.”
I’d whispered too loudly, because she turned onto her side, sliding an arm over my chest and hooking a leg between mine. “Impregnate me?”
In our current state of undress, I was too aware of the warmth of her body against mine. Add to that the sight of the sunny afternoon through the windows, and the fast-clip images of the metropolitan strip that crept into my mind. Many stories beneath us, people gambled, got drunk, girls faked orgasms at the drop of a hat and guys had lousy sex they’d regret the next day, but not us. Elena and I—even as atheists—were rather contemplating the divine, Christmas was almost there. If only time could magically freeze itself, I would have loved to see the moment last forever.
“Babiesss, Elena. I want to make beautiful, towheaded babies.”
“Babiesss? How does one make those?” The air she expelled in a burst made me smile.
“I’ll show you how, but only because you insist. Practice makes perfect. Think about it. If you want your grandfather to cook at your wedding, you must decide fast. He isn’t getting any younger.”
“Oh my God! Did you just use grandpa against me?”
“I wouldn’t dare. But…it’s working, isn’t it?” I pointed out, grumpily.
“Jeez, you’re evil.”
“Exactly my point. Marry me?” Ba-dum-bump! With adrenaline rushing up the sides of my neck, I licked up the tracery of pale pink lining her ribcage.
Just as I was sinking in dread, she started speaking. “Marry evil, you mean?” She worded the question in an unusually playful way.
“Exactly my other point. I’m no Jake Ryan. Save me, angel. Say the words now or forever hold your peace.” I brought out the big guns. Gave her my awesomest puppy dog eyes.
“Yes. I will marry you.”
Ba-dum-tsh! Nirvanic moment, a rush of relief surged through me, burning in my chest. It felt like free-fall, but the horizontal kind. These were words any man dreamt of hearing. Sluggishly, unwillfully, the sun was disappearing into the sky. A few last stupendous rays pierced through the windows, dappled beams finding us. I tore myself away from Elena. I should have asked her if she was sure about me. But, I didn’t, because the prospect of a less than fulfilling answer had never terrified me as this one did. Did I deserve her? Although I was someone who believed I deserve whatever came my way, I rather not speculate about Elena. Let the world do its worst, I’ll deal. I scrambled to the edge and swung my legs off the bed.
“Alex?” Elena used one eye to sneak a peek at me. “You look nice,” she quipped charmingly. “Don’t wear anything.”
Holding my clothes in the crook of my elbow, I turned around. “Nice? Why, thank you.” Heaving a sigh, I smoothed my hand over my semi-tumescent cock. “Wait right here.”
A shiver racked me when my thoughts shifted to my mother as I picked up the authentic black velvet and suede presentation box. I also noticed how dry my throat had grown. Returning with the ring, I trapped Elena’s jaw in my hand and whipped her head around. “Pet…,” I paused shortly to let the importance sink in. And, I was also trying to find a way to say the rest without sounding like the controlling bastard that I was. “Will you take my name?”
Her eyes were lustrous, her lips pink and still a little swollen. “Yes, sir.”
How wonderful, she recognized and submitted to the dominant before her. I envisioned Elena done up in a corset and heels, genuflecting at her owner’s beck and call. The banal fantasy made my uncovered cock twitch, hard. Even the deep breath I took didn’t stop my blood from rushing slower, nor did it pacify the painful swelling in my groin.
“It’s huge,” she said.
“My cock? No one’s ever complained.”
Peeking through the fringe of her eyelashes, she murmured, “Rock on the ring.”
“No skimping on the diamonds, ‘tis the season after all.” I slid the family jewel on her finger.
“Are you pleased with me, sir?” She asked this with a heart-stopping smile.
I could barely contain myself. “To be totally honest,” I began my reply, “I’m fucking overwhelmed,” I bit out.
“I want you to make good on your promise. One month has gone by.” She lifted her head to mine, and all I could hear was the whisper of her soft, long mane as she stared at me desolately, deprived even.
“It’ll hurt, baby,” I jogged her memory. “My alter ego likes to do rude, dirty things to you. He’s a hard nut to crack. Give it a few more days.”
“I trust you. You’re as good as your word.” Her wide-eyed expression and parted lips spoke a thousand words. She didn’t blink and didn’t break eye contact.
“I’ll never hurt you, you have to trust me, future Mrs. Turner,” I reassured her. “I won’t be uxorious during play. I’ll always implement steadfast roughness, but this I’ll do with good, drum-tight economy.”
Her stare flickered between my eyes and lips before she kissed me. I crashed my lips to hers in a kiss of pure carnality and unsated hunger. My tongue invaded her mouth, licking at the roof of it, at its base, curling around her tongue. When her hands made an attempt to find their way to my back, I yanked her arms above her head and kept them locked in place with my left hand. I lowered my hips between her spread legs and pinned her to the mattress. Slowly, I guided my cock to the smooth entrance, probing the territory to see if she was anointed enough.
She was.
My hips churned against hers as I screwed my cock into her, pushing until I was in her to the hilt. Until I could feel her stretch around me from root to tip, muscles clenching in compressional waves that milked me like a greedy little mouth. The friction and pressure at the base of my dick was marvelous. Transcendent. Everything I ever wanted and more. Everything I never had before or would find again. Much too soon, I tore my mouth away and panted into her face, touching my forehead to hers. “I’m going to come.”
“Ohhh,” she cried out the exquisitely tangled enunciation of hopelessness and ecstasy, writhing under me.
I came in a great torrent. Ass flexing, my body shuddered as though I were a wet dog. My cock swelled and
tightened, releasing inside her in thick, hot spurts. The joy of congress was so intense that nothing—absolutely nothing—could ruin the blissful completion. Beneath me, the way her mussed mane gusted around her face reminded me of a belligerent beast that required taming. She fucked me dry, draining me of every drop of semen I’d manufactured. Once finished, I didn’t want to slip out of her. Seemingly, she was as desperate to keep me within her as I was. While the pressure eased, I touched her cheek with my lips, thanking her.
I was also too heavy for her; I had to come out. I pulled back and dropped down next to her, my chest heaving, my half-flaccid cock falling back against my belly, wonderfully spent and sticky-slick from us both. Curious as to what I’d see, my head turned on the goose down pillow so I could face her.
No rueful expression, she merely looked satisfied. Content. And a little tired.
“You all right?” I squeezed her arm.
She jolted up. Her eyes slid to mine. “I want to do this all day long.”
“As enticing as that idea is, I don’t think I could accomplish keeping it up for hours,” I informed her.
“You could take a pill.” Mighty insistent. Tactless, too.
“That I could.” A corner of my mouth quirked up. “I’m not getting any younger. Don’t have a magic dick. Our sex life will only go downhill from here.”
She pursed her lips in a neat pout. “I do hope not.”
I held her. “Don’t you worry. I’ll move heaven and earth to make you happy.”
Elena Anderson
The Breakfast in Bed
I felt his lips on the top of my hair, pressing yet another kiss. His hand lifted to touch my face. The feeling of his fingertips skimming my jawline made my eyes flutter. He put a little pressure on my chin, so I looked up. “Seasonal gifts wrapped with colorful ribbons, flaky snow blowing, enchanting decorations hung by fairies, lying on a handmade quilt in front of crackling hickory wood-fire, drinking Tahiti vanilla scented eggnog. All of this, kitten?”
“Assuming you will serve the eggy cocktail naked, I’ll go down on bended knee.”
A wicked smile curved his lips. “Prick-tease. We’ll do Christmas together. Frank and Cecilia will cook. Provides the ideal opportunity to give our families the good news at the same time. But first, get rid of this.”
There I was, studying a shitty self-portrait. Look closely at it, said the note. Gross. The woman in the painting had a beaky nose, fleshy jowls, and large pouches underneath her eyes. As an early Christmas present, my paternal aunt had couriered us a painting from Chicago, direct to the mansion.
It began to flurry. I could feel a chill through my bones, so I burrowed under the covers. It’ll be a tough winter, the weather experts had announced. On Sundays, breakfast was served in bed. I watched Alexander grip the neck of a champagne bottle. With the bulbous end of the cork in his palm, he twisted his hand back and forth and deftly popped it open. “Hale and hearty breakfast of champions.”
I dug into a deconstructed baked egg dish, and Alexander went for poached eggs and asparagus. The food and the bellinis were excellent. The bubbles of the sparkling wine tickled my throat quite pleasantly, and the acidity paired well with the zesty chives and creamy cheese of the egg-bake. The eggs were farm fresh, and the sprinkle of chili flakes on top really packed a punch.
Alexander took another look at the painting and snorted condescendingly. “We should tell her it got damaged on its way over, and so we had to get rid of it, baby.” He was dead serious—the corners of his mouth not even curving the tiniest bit.
“Nope, not going to happen,” I answered in a snotty voice.
His eyebrows went up. “Partners in crime, remember?”
“I have a fair say, and my answer is no.”
His dark, angry eyes glared at me. “Dammit, Elena.” His chest expanded on a deep breath, and the crossness in his eyes banked. “It looks as ugly as sin. If you want an owl staring at us, I prefer acquiring the animal itself. It’s a wise animal, at least the goddess of wisdom thought so. This thing,” he gesticulated at the painting, “looks plain ugly and stupid.”
“Stop being so uptight,” I screeched. I did laugh along with him.
“Laughing and happy. That’s the girl I fell in love with.”
A faint black stubble shadowed his jaw, and I remembered its feel. Against my neck, my breasts, my inner thighs…
“Uptight and stupid are different things.” His face crinkled for a fleeting second as he rose, apparently preparing to leave.
I gave up pretending. I took two huge steps toward the painting and tossed it on the floor in a dramatic fashion. Although I hadn’t watched much commercial television lately, a brief thought flitted into my mind that this was, once again, so Lifetime. “I don’t want to wrangle over a painting.” I leaned forward to kiss him, but he matched my movement in reverse, keeping a distance between us. I pulled at his arm frantically, he even tried to tear himself away but I wouldn’t let him. I caught his lips with mine. It was awkward at first with teeth clicking together, but by the way his body tightened up I knew I’d won. To throw him off balance, I reached for his crotch. It worked; his mouth unlocked from mine, groaning.
“What has gotten into you? You’re such an eager little mouse,” the bass in his husky voice sounded urgent and raw, “perfect as fuck.”
He shoved me back until I felt the backs of my knees hit the bed, pushing me down carefully. His hand ran up my thigh.
I reached for him blindly, clawing at his shoulders through the pristine ribbed cotton of his undershirt. With an almost frightening urgency, we kissed and grinned while we tore each other’s clothes off and rolled on the bed. We weren’t officially newlyweds yet, but we acted the same.
“Alex, stop being douchey!” I chocked out between giggles. I fake-smacked at his groping hands, laughing as I writhed away.
His hot breath ruffled my hair. “I can’t stop it. The doctor gave you a clean bill of health. I can tickle you all I want. It’s not harmful.” Ever since the doctor had stopped by the house for a final check, Alexander was in excellent form.
“You’re impossible.”
“Impossibly awesome,” he countered with a reinvented toothpaste commercial smile, and then started sipping at my navel.
“Impossibly stubborn, you mean?”
I jerked violently when his tongue rimmed my navel. “Baby,” he pulled back, his lips wet and his eyes twinkling, “shall we burn the painting?”
“Alex…,” His glare, dark and unyielding, put a stop to my argument before it was even half-formed. I shut up, meekly raising my hands in defeat.
“That’s a good girl.” I was desperate to taste him but I knew neither of us had the patience. My thoughts were confirmed when he stuffed two fingers inside me. It was all was slick and easy for him.
He stopped as soon as my fingers brushed his scalp, pulling out. “Don’t move your hands,” he admonished sternly. Another finger slipped inside me and I cried out.
Then his fingers were gone and his meaty cock was rubbing against my clit. He rammed into me in one long, slick glide, smiling down at me; it was obvious he enjoyed the sensation of his raging cock slipping against my sensitive wetness. My hands clutched his forearms, and I lifted my hips up to meet him. He breathed harshly through his nose at the sensation of me fucking him back as he continued pounding me deeply.
His hand snaked between us to grab my breast, pressing against the nipple with his thumb. “Look how wet your pretty little pussy is. I’m going to fuck you good and proper, slut,” he panted deafeningly in my ear.
I cried out and he grunted, burying his face into my neck. I was begging nonsensically at this point, delighting in the sensation of his cock moving in and out. It was rough and vicious. Like a barbarian, he bit my neck and pulled my hips closer to him by a violent grip of my ass. Maybe he wanted to make me lose my mind as much as I wanted him to lose himself in me.
Our hips smacked together, our tongues toying playfully wit
h one another. Our moans and grunts filled the bedroom, creating some kind of an erotic soundtrack to our union.
Cursing, he picked up his pace, dipping his head to latch onto my nipple. There was a thick-tongued noise as he sucked it for a few seconds, and then he ran his hand down to my slippery clit. He didn’t bother teasing me, he went straight to circling it with his finger, over and over again. His aim was to make me come, tugging on my heartstrings, plucking at my chords of desire. My vision blurred at the indescribable sensation. I briefly wondered if he was fucking me blind, but all thoughts vanished after a particularly rough thrust.
His movements started growing sluggish and less focused, so I knew the end was near. Finally, I felt his teeth bite down on my shoulder. I felt the heat race up into my face. I lost control of my body, coming in a way I hadn’t for weeks. I loved the sadism. None of this was delicate and proper, it wouldn’t be considered making love, it was fucking—primitive and fierce, and I never wanted to do it any other way again.
He pounded my sex until I was shrieking and raising my hips back against him. “Fuck…just like that, Alex. Don’t stop.”
The urge to come again was sudden. I lost the tenuous grip of control I had over me. My body shuddered, my muscles tightened and relaxed. My sex gripped him like a tight glove, slick like a wet fist, squeezing with the incredible force of my orgasm. He cursed and fucked me harder. We were a mess of screams and sweaty flesh.
“I love you.” The puff of breeze from my mouth uplifted a lock of hair on his forehead. Deadbeat, I stroked the blue veins running from his smooth, tanned forearm to the insides of his biceps.
A moment later, I felt him swell and throb harder. “Love you back, kitten.” His cock inflated with come until it all spurted into me, making him grunt indelicately with every pulse. My nails were so ingrained in his back that I wondered if I’d permanently scarred him.
Just as fast as we came together, we pulled apart. The view of my tattered underwear across the floor made me giggle. I kept hoping that, on the long run, things would always be rainbows and hearts and kisses and playroom sex.
