Set In Stone
Page 13
“Lip gloss. Except not,” she says, winking. She points with a perfectly polished nail to her mouth. “Kiss me here, Steven. Right here. Taste me.”
With not a second of hesitation I lean up, careful to leave my hands by my sides, and press my mouth against hers. A loud moan escapes when I let my tongue dart out to lick her lips. Morganna wraps her arms around my neck and presses her full breasts against my chest. I can’t help the awareness of how she’s positioned herself atop me. I could merely grab her thick hips and push her onto my cock in one fluid motion. She’s wet enough. I’m harder than a fucking rock. The way her tongue and lips are owning me, I know she wants me inside her. I more than want it. I need it. I won’t act on it, though. Self-control isn’t usually one of my strong suits in the bedroom, but with her it has to be.
She breaks the kiss to run her warm tongue down the side of my throat and across my collarbone. I watch as she bites me—leaving red marks as she works her way over my pecs and then lower to my abs. Praise the good Lord I worked out today, because the way she’s moving her mouth over my well sculpted eight pack makes me think she approves. Clutching the quilt by my sides is the only thing that keeps me from taking her. She’s not yours to take, the sadistic part of my brain whispers. She flicks her gray cat eyes up at me and I know it’s game time.
Getting into a more comfortable position between my legs, she kneels on the bed in front of me and wraps her heaven sent lips around my dick. She moans loudly, and I think my fucking eyes roll back in my head. Every dream about her mouth and lips didn’t do this feeling justice.
I watch every move she makes, wanting to sop up every feeling, every sight possible for recollection purposes. One of her small hands comes around to get her long hair out of the way. I make a quick decision to grab her hair and hold it back into a ponytail for her. Gentlemanly in gesture, greedy in actuality.
Working up and down, she uses her tongue to trace the tip and lick the sides after every few strokes of her pumping hand. I never understood why something as wet and with so much sucking and licking is called a blowjob. Men don’t pause long enough to give a shit, is the only conclusion I’ve developed over the years.
She pushes against my chest and intuitively I know what she wants. I lean back against the pillow and spread my legs further. With her hand still pumping on my cock, I feel her lips on my balls. Just tongue and lips, and then one of my ol’ boys is in her warm mouth. Then the other. Hissing out a breath, my hips rock up again, and then again. I need to fuck her. I need to come. Closing my eyes, I feel it all: warm hands on the inside of my thighs, wetness from her mouth dripping down from my dick onto my balls, her lips wrapping around my cock and moving at a furious pace.
“I’m close,” I tell her. While I’ve known her forever, I’m not sure about her cum preferences. She speeds her hand up, I lean up to watch her work, and I groan at the beautiful sight. Her black hair sticking to the side of one cheek, her gray eyes fixed on mine. I rock my hips up and she gags a little as I force myself deeper than I should be. A few seconds later I burst, cum flowing into her mouth in hot, powerful spurts. Pleasure spasms rock my body in wave after wave.
I never take my eyes off her, even though every natural instinct in my body tells me to close my eyes and moan like a caveman. There’s no way it’s worth missing this view. Of Morganna catching my cum in her mouth, her beautiful eyes locked with mine. She moves up and over my stomach, and in a move that is both parts disgusting and hot, she lets my hot cum leak from her mouth onto me. I flex my abs in vain to try to keep it pooling in my stomach instead of dripping onto the bed.
Morganna gracefully slides off the bed and picks up the pair of three-hundred dollar panties off the floor. With a sly smirk she uses the lace to wipe the remnants off my abs.
“You didn’t think I swallowed, did you?” Morganna says, her cheeks still flushed. I laugh, but try to cover it with a cough.
I grab the panties out of her hand and wipe the sides where my cum is dripping down, and my V where it will likely leak next. “I’m not sure what I thought, but it wasn’t this.” I laugh. “You’ll hear no complaints from me,” I admit, because let’s be honest. It was hot. “My turn?” I ask, hopeful. It’s her terms, but I know what she wants.
“No intercourse. Not yet,” she replies, removing the hair stuck to her cheek. “Go down on me. I want to bear witness to your legendary skills firsthand.” I can’t help the smile that breaks across my face. If you think being told what to do isn’t the biggest boner inducing fog you’ve ever known, you haven’t met Morganna before. It’s a switch, for sure; a refreshing change to be with a woman who knows exactly what she wants. I grab her waist, pull her toward me, and she falls back onto the bed letting a small laugh escape.
“By my figures we have less than fifteen minutes, so I better be more than fucking legendary,” I growl, pulling her by her legs to the edge of the bed. Without another second hesitation I settle in, my tongue a wet, heat-seeking missile.
She screams out on first contact. Loud and wild and so fucking turned on that I know my boner isn’t going anywhere.
Yet.
Morganna
Past
“Just like that. Just like that,” I breathe out through pants that seem to be unnecessarily loud and exaggerated. I’m not in control of my body. He is.
My hands thread through Stone’s brown hair between my legs. I’m pushed up against the inside of the back seat of our SUV in the parking lot of a nightclub. I feel the need to explain this, as I’m dressed as a nun. My husband is dressed as a priest. We are probably going to end up fornicating in the car. Forgive me, Father.
It’s Halloween and we’ve reserved a couple VIP areas in the most popular club for our friends. Maverick and Windsor, a new couple, will be there. I make the unconscious decision to try to have a heart to heart with Win. She has to struggle with the same things that I struggled with before deciding to give my heart to a Team Guy. It’s not as cut and dry as a normal relationship, that’s for sure.
My thoughts about being a good friend vanish as my hot as hell husband slips two fingers inside me, while his tongue lashes against my clit furiously, wildly, demanding my quick orgasm. Sliding his wide fingers against my channel, he moves them at the perfect speed. The tingling, warm sensation wraps around me as I grind myself into his face. Stone is wild and out of control every time he gets the chance to go down on me. His enthusiasm is a catalyst for knee shaking orgasms. When I say he can’t get enough of me, I mean it. His zest for loving me never wanes. It’s as if he’s making up the time that he’s away. It makes sense.
The fingers on his other hand dig into my hip, holding me down and keeping his face in the perfect position. I yell out loudly when the pleasure hits, pulsing through my whole body at once. He eases his grip and lets me work myself on his fingers until I come crashing back down from the high. He sucks on my clit gently as curse words leak from my mouth.
“I think the entire parking lot heard you, baby,” Stone says, tracing my core with his fingers, rubbing my wetness around the lips and then dipping his finger inside me shallowly. My muscles grip his finger involuntarily. My eyes roll back in my head as I let go of his hair and put a hand on the back of the seat to try to lean against the window.
Sliding up my body, he glides between my legs, his erection landing at my sopping, wet center. “I love you,” he whispers, sliding into me—only halfway, just enough to make me crazy. “I didn’t plan on fucking you, but you’re so wet I can’t help myself.”
“I’m okay with that,” I say, my eyes fluttering closed as he sinks in another inch. I moan and clutch the back of his black cloak, my hands moving down to find his hard ass to attempt to guide him all the way in. With one hand I reach between us to find the base of his shaft. Wrapping my hand around the only part that isn’t inside me makes me shiver. I lift my hips because I desperately need to be filled. I stroke his balls and give them a tiny tug just to get my point across.
“You want me all the way?” he growls in my ear. All I can do is nod my head against his shoulder and pray he gives it all to me. With a low groan he falls into me, filling me up, and promptly begins thrusting to the hilt. I clutch his ass tightly, wanting every ounce of roughness he can deal out.
Stone whispers a combination of sweet nothings and the dirtiest curse words humankind has ever heard. My face finds its way into one of his hands as his lips crash into mine, forceful and meaningful. His kiss possesses me from the outside while his steely erection owns me from the inside—pumping in this furious lyrical pace that sets me over the edge. I wrap my legs around his waist and come again, wishing he could fill me like this forever and that this moment would never end.
“I want to know I’m inside you all night long,” Stone says, his wet lips against my ear. He jerks inside me one more violent time, and I feel him hot and throbbing deep inside me. I’m still convulsing around him when he pulls out slowly, listening to the amazing noises of two wet bodies disconnecting. Stone’s eyes are focused between my legs as he pulls all the way out. A huge, beatific smile stretching across his face as he leans down to kiss me on my stomach and slide my thong back into place.
Reaching behind me, I feel the cool of the window and realize they’re fogged up—exactly like what happens when people have sex in cars in the movies. “I’m glad we came early.”
“I’m always glad to come in you, Morg,” Stone jokes. I pull his costumed collar toward me and kiss him, coming up onto my knees to balance myself, my head still swimming from the adrenaline and from being with the only man to ever make me feel like a woman. His fingers grazing through my hair, he angles my chin sideways to kiss me deeper.
His erection still pressing against me, I know we could end up in this SUV all night if I don’t take the lead. “We really should hang out with our friends tonight,” I prompt in between wet kisses.
“I know,” he returns, molding his lips against mine again. “I need to go to confession first,” he says, his teeth clicking against my own.
I play along. “Confess to me your sins.”
“I’m so in love with a woman that I can’t see straight. Tell me what to do, Mother Morganna.”
My hands on the sides of his face, I pull back, narrowing my eyes. “Just love her for the rest of your life. And pick up your dirty clothing. Oh, and always, always consult her before getting a tattoo. Hot sex, too. She probably needs lots of hot sex.”
Stone tilts his chin down and narrows his eyes to match my own. “You always do need that S word, don’t you?” I erupt into a fit of very un-Morganna like giggles and sit back onto the seat. We talk for another thirty minutes about his tattoo ideas and house projects—mainly a laundry chute and a hand-crafted sex swing for our bedroom. I am satiated and so full of love for my husband, I can’t remember a time I’d been more in love with love, or with life.
Morganna
It was a nice break. A healthy break, from work and real life. It’s funny how going back to my hometown grounds me in a way that nothing else can. Of course, being with Steven is the main reason I’m so relaxed and ready to tackle my workload and the New Year with a brand new positive outlook. My polished reflection in the mirror looks the same as it always has, but I can’t deny the sparkle in my eye that hasn’t been there for a long time.
Since Stone died.
Is it because Steven is the first person or relationship that I’ve delved into since, or is it because what we’re beginning is something real and true—something that will surely take away the final pain that hasn’t eased? I’m almost afraid to admit it’s the latter, because that overshadows my love for my husband in some cosmic way, right? Because Steven is so similar in so many ways, I can’t ignore the niggling feeling. I can ignore it enough to enjoy my newfound emotional freedom. Daddy always told me that words cut. Words are harmless to me now…in my profession and at this point in my life. Lies are words. Some words are even so insignificant as to be called hollow. I’ve learned that absence is what cuts the deepest. It slices you in places you never knew were there. The freedom comes from the lack of absence. Steven is here, he’s with me in more ways I can count. The fact that he understands everything I’ve been through is just bonus.
With a freshly pressed designer skirt suit and a full face of complementary makeup, I’m ready for anything that comes my way. Phillipe picks me up early, because he knows I’ll be ready before our agreed upon time, and takes me into the office—a place I rarely visit as I usually conduct business from my home office. Today I have a meeting with Penelope that requires an associate to sit in on as we prepare paperwork and file everything for the upcoming divorce proceedings. She called me twice last night to make sure she was making the right decision to take him for all he’s worth. I convinced her she’s worth way more than we’re going after and he’s earned a far harsher punishment.
I push through the large, heavy double doors of the icy office with my head as high as it can go. This is Morganna Sterns as the world knows me— tenacious, predatory, on top of the world, regardless of life’s circumstances. I come out on top, always. It’s not an option. Respect is required in my field. The secretary at the desk says a polite hello with her head down and directs me to the proper conference room. Philippe chatters behind me on my cell phone, taking messages that I’m already processing in my head at the same time. A couple of the men in one of the offices pop their heads out to leer, their eyes wandering up and down my body, assuming I’m completely unaware of their creepy attention.
I let my gaze dart toward them. “Any good cases, boys?” I narrow my eyes and smirk. One attorney with a bad side part and fake smile turns red from the neck up. “Seems as if you have too much time on your hands,” I say, diverting my attention back to the hallway in front of me. I flick my perfectly waved hair over one shoulder and don’t think about them again. It’s why I avoid the office.
I requested Toni, a shrewd female attorney, to sit in today’s proceedings with Penny and me. I think Toni swings the other way—you can never be sure if a person’s lack of dating life is attributed to having a highly successful career or because there aren’t enough fish in the dating pond. I’d guess if she does prefer women, her options in Virginia Beach are limited and even further sliced in half when you pair them with her IQ and ambition.
Steeling myself, I open the one-way tinted door. “Penelope!” I say, greeting my client with a huge smile and fake octave. A wide, relieved smile breaks across her own face. I sit my leather briefcase on the mahogany conference table as Phillipe sets to work arranging papers to be signed. He’s done this so many times it takes no thought at all, and he even balances a phone call while sorting. I love him for so many reasons. Mostly because he is the gay version of me.
I nod at Toni, who sits across the table. Her white blouse is starched to death and her lank hair is scraped back into a messy ponytail. It’s not the chic messy ponytail either. It’s the “I don’t give a shit” hairstyle. She nods back and continues her conversation, and gestures for me to let her know when I’m ready.
“I don’t know why I’m so nervous, Morganna. It’s so odd. I haven’t seen him in forever. You know I haven’t had any contact with David for so long that I have no idea where he’s at,” Penny explains.
I knew this fact. The private eye lost track of the crazy asshole before I left for Georgia. I don’t tell my client that.
“It’s the final steps today, Penny. Everything will be over soon. Do you have any specific questions for me?” I feel the need to be a touch more professional in this atmosphere than I would at home.
Her gaze flicks left and right, falling on Phillipe and then on Toni who has graciously ended her phone call. “You’re sure he won’t be in court?”
I shake my head.
“No. The way we’ve set it up has given him no choice in the matter. He’ll meet with his attorneys and you meet with us, and there’s nothing more to do. David knows he’s in a corner.”
“Yes, they get caught,” I reply, making sure Penny feels the confidence radiating in my voice. Phillipe answers another call and I can tell by the change in his tenor that it’s Steven. I can’t help it; I pause just to see if I can make out his muffled voice through Phillipe’s blue tooth.
“She’s in a meeting right now. No, I will not relay that message. Is there something more appropriate you want me to tell her?” I stifle a smile by biting my lip.
I pass the paperwork that Toni has initialed over to Penny and watch as she signs the dotted line.
“Oh, should I?” Phillipe says, still chatting with Steven. “Maybe I’ll tell her that.” Now that catches my attention and I send a calculated side-eye to my assistant. He obviously thought I was enrapt in the document signing process and wouldn’t hear him.
“David already agreed to the terms because there isn’t another way around it. He cheated on you and with the prenuptial in place he can’t challenge it. Everything is yours. Including his balls in a jar if you deem them worthy to keep,” I explain. Toni snorts.
Penelope shifts in her chair as she continues scribbling her name. “He makes me nervous. You know he’s…”
I interrupt, knowing where she’s going with her thoughts. “He’s hit you before. He’s beaten you. Just another reason you need not worry about the proceedings.” My blood boils. I want David’s balls in a jar regardless if she does or not. My tolerance stands at zero for domestic violence of any sort. Her soon to be ex-husband is the worst kind of offender. The photos of Penny’s face are criminal. They’re tucked in a manila envelope along with the damning photo evidence of her husband with other women. After today, my hope is that Penelope never has to hear his name again. Toni shifts in her seat, obviously uncomfortable with my brash accusations.