by Meg Jackson
The men erupted into laughter and Ricky hid her boredom by sloshing the last of her rum and coke into her mouth, crunching some stray ice between her teeth. Her back hurt. She arched it, grabbing the back of her chair and turning to get a bit of stretch along her spine. And there he was. At the bar, the far corner, a beer in front of him. Alone, which was strange, considering the fact that he and his brothers were usually attached at the hip. And he was looking right at her. They were too far away for her to really see his eyes, but she knew their color well enough. Pools of green ink. She was a little drunk. And he looked good.
She finished her twisting stretch and rose without ceremony from the round table, her absence barely noticed. He didn’t look away as she approached and hoisted herself onto the stool beside him. When Junior came around, she ordered a refill.
“Night out with the boys?” Cristov said, nodding with his chin to the table of men, a small smile on his face.
“Ugh,” Ricky said, rolling her eyes by way of response. “They’re not my boys. Speaking of which, where are yours?”
Cristov shrugged.
“Need some time apart,” he said, then a devilish glint sparked in his eye. “Kennick and Kim are getting cozy tonight.”
“Good for them,” Ricky said. “At least someone’s getting theirs.”
She might have been drunker than she thought.
All she knew, as Junior dropped off her drink, was that she didn’t want to look away from Cristov. All the times they’d met, it’d been nothing but fire and ice, a back-and-forth flirtation that left Ricky feeling heated and irritated at the same time.
“Jealous?” Cristov asked, that smirk on his face that Ricky had come to hate – and yet, somehow, crave. “Wouldn’t think it, from someone like you.”
“What’s that mean?” Ricky snapped. He shrugged but smiled wider, happy as always to get a rise out of her.
“Just saying, you want a battle royale in the sheets, I bet half the male population would line up at your bedroom door.”
“Half the male population is a hot box of rocks,” Ricky said. “And the other half gets their rocks off before things even get hot.”
Cristov chuckled.
“Your math’s a little flawed,” he said. She raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t leave any space for men like me.”
“True,” she said. “There’s always the guys who talk so much their dicks don’t know whether to get hard or start taking notes.”
He glowered and she smirked. But then he leaned in, and the heat of his body close to hers melted the smirk right off her face.
“Trouble with girls like you is that you don’t know how bad you need all that talking,” he murmured. “Then someone finally tells you what to do and you realize you’ve been waiting your whole life for someone to shut you up.”
Her back went rigid.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, her voice low and huskier than she meant it to be. She expected him to grin or laugh, but he kept his eyes on hers and his mouth was set firm.
“You play rough with words, but ten bucks says you’d like someone to play even rougher,” he said. Ricky’s eyes widened. This was not the Cristov she knew. And yet, somehow, she liked this Cristov just as much – if not more. A lot more. She took a long sip of her drink.
“You’d lose that bet,” she said, focusing her attention away from his piercing eyes. Shit, she’d just come over to get away from the guys she worked with. She thought she’d have a bit of fun with Cristov and call it a night. But from the way her heart was racing in her chest, she was less and less confident that the night would end quietly. Where was he getting the sudden balls to talk to her like this?
“Maybe I would,” he said, leaning back. She caught a drift of his cologne as his body moved. It smelled earthy and warm. “Guess I’ll never get a chance to see one way or another.”
She stabbed at the ice in her drink and looked at him out of the corner of her eye.
“Don’t be so sure of that,” she said, barely believing her own words. If Cristov was surprised by her change of heart, he didn’t show it. Ricky tried to remember the last time she’d gotten laid. It had been a while. This sudden flush of heat must have been her body’s way of telling her she was overdue. And why not Cristov? He was handsome as hell, built like a god, and fun to be around – even if only for a night.
“Close out your tab,” he said, looking away for the first time since she sat down. Her eyebrows rose. He was really taking a mile after she gave him an inch, wasn’t he? She opened her mouth, a smile forming, to retort, but the look he shot her stopped the words in her throat. Her mouth slammed shut again. “Close it out, or I’ll do it for you.”
Okay, this was definitely not the Cristov she knew. And she was definitely interested in what this new Cristov would be like. And when his hand fell to her thigh, squeezing tight, his eyes boring into hers, she had to swallow her heart as it leapt up her throat.
“Okay,” she said, wondering where that voice had come from. It sounded…passive. Meek. Nothing like her own voice. She sucked the last of her drink through her straw, and when Junior came back, she asked him to close out her tab. When she looked back at Cristov, he was smiling. This time, there was nothing flirty about it. Their drinks paid for, he led her through the bar, one hand on her lower back, a firm reminder of what she’d just signed herself up for. If any of the men she’d come in with noticed the way her cheeks flushed, the way her breath hitched, or the fact that she was leaving with one of the gypsies, they didn’t mention it to her later.
7
As she fumbled with the keys to her door, she felt Cristov press his body against hers, distracting her further.
What am I doing, what am I doing, what the HELL am I doing, she thought, brain racing to keep up with the way her body responded to his hard chest against her back. And when he leaned in, closing the gap between them by placing his lips against the back of her neck, she thought: oh, right. That’s what I’m doing.
They tumbled into her apartment, Cristov kicking the door closed behind him. Free from his intoxicating touch, Ricky seized the moment to try and come to her senses one last time. She turned to him, eyes lowered.
“Listen,” she said. “I don’t know if this is…”
“I’m already here, aren’t I?” Cristov asked, no smirk on his face to soften his words.
“Yeah, but I…”
“Take me to your bed,” he muttered, coming in close once more and reaching forward to grab her by the cheek. She melted into his touch, her eyes finally forced to meet his. “Now.”
He growled the last word and she nearly jumped at the force of his tone. Her mouth opened, but a firm push on her chin from his palm closed it. Her heart was racing like a sprinter, her body overheated.
“I said now, Ricky,” he growled again, and now reached with his free hand to tug on one of the belt loops of her jeans. “And get these off of you.”
Trapped in his gaze, she felt helpless but to obey. Who was she? She wasn’t acting like Ricky anymore. Ricky didn’t…didn’t…
I don’t take my pants off just because some hot guy tells me to, she managed to think, even though her fingers were already tugging at the zipper.
You do when that guy is me, his eyes seemed to answer. He released his hold on her chin and she turned, grateful for the momentary escape from his gaze. But as she moved to step out of the pants, which were now pooled around her ankles, he held her back by grabbing the bottom of her shirt. In a forceful yank, he pulled it up and over her heard, her arms rising with it. When she finally managed to step forward, she was only in her bra and panties.
“Look at me while you go,” he said from behind her. “Watch me watching you.”
She turned her head over her shoulder; his want for her made her skin feel like it was all goosebumps. She knew her panties would be damp; the lustful way he stared at her was enough to make any lingering doubts flee her mind. As she led him down the hall to her be
droom, never taking her eyes off him, he pulled his own shirt off and let it fall to the floor, their clothes marking a trail.
Oh, holy shit, she thought as her eyes widened, taking in the spectacular specimen behind her. He was as ripped as his strong arms and tapered waist implied; even moreso. He looked like he could have broken her in two with a single touch. And from the hunger in his eyes, that was exactly what he planned to do. Finally, she reached the door to her bedroom and led him inside, turning to face him.
Cristov’s eyes seemed to study every inch of her. Her breasts, small but ample B-cups, plumped out of the top of her bra. Her long torso fluttered with the desire budding in her womb, her legs lean and sturdy.
“Are you just going to stand there, or…” she began to stay, her voice wavering slightly, feeling like a slide in a microscope.
“I’m going to do whatever I want, Ricky,” he said, taking a slow step towards her. “And you’re going to let me, aren’t you?”
She stammered, and her hesitation seemed to amuse him. He closed the distance between them and wrapped one arm around her waist, lifting her slightly so she stood on her tiptoes. His flesh against her torso was a brand, searing her to her core. His lips, when they finally fell over hers, were sweet surrender, and she moaned against his mouth. Too soon, he broke away, and looking down at her with those green eyes, repeated the question.
“Aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she said, unable to stop the feeling between them, unable to stop herself from wanting him. She was at his mercy. And he knew it.
“Good,” he growled, pushing her slightly so that the backs of her knees hit the bed. Weak from the sudden blood rush his kiss had ignited, she fell backwards, bouncing onto the mattress. “Then take those panties off and spread yourself for me.”
His words sparked a thousand fires in her flesh, but her thighs snapped shut. That? That was too intimate. She never let someone do that the first time. She rarely let anyone do it…ever. He might be playing a game, but he didn’t get to make all the rules, did he?
“Now, Ricky,” he said, a ripple of annoyance crossing his features.
You don’t have to do this, she told herself, staring up at him, feeling her body on the brink of collapsing from desire. You can tell him to get out and you can touch yourself until…
She could do that. But she was already doing just what he said. One thumb hooked under the elastic waistband of her panties as her thighs spread apart. And then she was bared before him, exposing the glistening center of her desire.
“And that,” he said, nodding with his chin, and her fingers unclasped the hook of her bra without her even thinking about it. Her nipples were hard in the cold room, and the more he looked at her, vulnerable and laid bare, the harder they got. A constant, dull throb had taken up residence in her stomach. Her fingers clutched the bedspread. He stepped forward, then crouched down.
“Jesus Christ,” he whispered, his eyes still intent on hers, his hand coming up to cup her breasts, “you’re a very good girl, Ricky.”
A part of Ricky, a part that hated everything she was doing, roared in protest. But that part was buried so deep down underneath all her lust that it could only watch as she arched her back and moaned. His fingers found her nipples and teased them, pulling until they were on the verge of pain.
He leaned forward and his lips encircled one nipple, her hand coming to his blonde hair as though to steady herself as he sucked inward. His finger mirrored his mouth on the other breast. He covered each small globe with his lips and tongue, making her thighs clench around his broad chest, her pussy throbbing now and dripping onto the bedspread.
“Please,” she moaned, unable to hold the word in any longer. He pulled away and looked at her, the smile on his face all sin.
“Please what, baby?” he asked, teasing her as he dropped one hand between her thighs, tracing gently between her lips. She stiffened and arched even further as her slit screamed its need for more.
“Please, just…” she couldn’t force herself to say the words; she didn’t even know what she wanted. Just an end to this, an end to the way he was teasing her body, giving her such a small fraction of what she needed.
“Please let you come?” he teased again, his body lowering slightly before her as his mouth began to trace down her abdomen. “Please lick your pussy ‘til you scream my name? Please fuck you ‘til you can’t see straight? That what you want, Ricky?”
His voice was muffled as he kissed down her stomach, each word sending vibrations across her skin. She groaned in agony as he finally dropped to her slit, his lips inches away from her engorged and throbbing clit.
“Tell me that’s what you want,” he said, his fingers still tracing her damp lips, one hand on her ribcage, his eyes taunting her from below. “Just say yes, Ricky, and you’ll get everything your dirty little mind desires.”
Oh God, what is he doing to me? she thought, her thighs around his ears trying to pull him closer.
“Yes,” she finally squeaked, and he put his hand on her chest, between her breasts, and pushed until she fell onto her back.
“Good girl,” he said again. Without hesitation he plunged forward, wrapping his tongue around her clit and plunging two fingers into her pussy at the same time. Ricky’s cry pierced the still air of the room as pleasure flooded her synapses, an unbearable need curling itself around her stomach as Cristov lapped and sucked her clit between his lips, his fingers curling inside her to reach the soft center of her pleasure.
Ricky’s muscles tensed to the point of pain, her mouth open in a soundless cry. Cristov wrote poetry against her wet flesh, forcing her to the brink in seconds. And when he gently drew his teeth downward across her clit, his fingers pressing hard into her g-spot, she exploded, body releasing in one unbearable torrent of pleasure, her toes curling and her thighs snapping shut around his head, hips bucking, fingers desperately clinging to handfuls of his hair as though he were the only thing keeping her tethered to this earth.
Her juices spilled across his hand, the walls of her pussy clenching around them, a climax like she’d never felt before and – deep down – feared she might never feel again. It had taken Cristov seconds to figure out what most men took weeks to learn. He rose, keeping his fingers buried inside her until the last of her spasms subsided. She looked up at him in baffled stupor.
“How…how did you…”
“Don’t talk,” he said, undoing the button and zipper of his jeans. Ricky rose, her body still trembling, and reached forward as his cock popped free. To say she was shocked would have been an understatement. For all Cristov’s talk, he had the real deal hidden away in his boxers. His cock was easily 8inches, and Ricky’s small hand only just managed to fit around its girth. Stroking it, she looked up at him before leaning forward, wanting to taste him, to show she could give as good as she got.
“Did I tell you to do that?” he growled, reaching forward to grab a handful of her hair and yank her head away. She made a strangled sound, surprised by his force. “I don’t want your mouth, babe.”
Releasing her hair, he swooped down, picking her up like she was no more than a doll. With his hands around her waist, he lay her down on the bed and positioned himself between her legs, grabbing her knees and pulling them up and out. She watched in stunned silence as he leaned over the bed, pulled a condom from his wallet, and rolled it over his cock.
“Fuck, this is nice,” he growled, grabbing the shaft and pressing the head against her slit. It was barely enough to spread her lips but enough to make her groan and press forward, wanting more. The climax hadn’t sated her, only left her wanting more, and when he ran the head of his cock up to her clit, wet with her juices, she felt her body jump with need.
“You want this, Ricky?” he asked, teasing her again and again. He leaned forward with one hand next to her shoulder, the other guiding his cock up and down her slit, driving heat through her limbs. She pressed her thighs against him, wanting to pull him forward, to end th
e torturous game and finally feel him enter her. “Tell me you want it, and you’ll get it.”
“Uh huh,” she moaned, eyes closed, hands moving to his waist to tug him forward, but he only pulled away. She looked up at him, pleading, a whimper escaping her lips.
“Tell me,” he growled, eyes demanding. He wanted to hear her, wanted to hear her say it.
“I want you,” she moaned, desperately trying to pull him into her. “Please? I want you inside me…”
“Prove it,” he said, that awful, sexy smile on his face. The world spun as he lifted her and rolled over, laying on his back, her legs spread around him, his cock under her dripping slit. “Fuck me ‘til you come, Ricky.”
Straddling him, the heat between them building, she let her clit rub against his long shaft, the pleasure rolling through her like a wave. Impatient, Cristov grabbed her arms, pulled her towards him, and with a shift of his hips pressed his cock against her slit.
“C’mon, girl,” he growled, never releasing her eyes for a moment. “Show me how good you are.”
Slowly, Ricky lowered herself onto his cock, feeling it stretch and fill her pussy to the point where it almost hurt. A low moan reverberated up her throat as she slid her soaked pussy downward until she felt the last of him slip inside her, her ass settling on his thighs. Her body shivered around the massive size of him, her hips bucking slightly, her clit grinding down on his stomach.
Reaching up, he grabbed her breasts and kneaded them gently until her back arched. Ricky’s cheeks filled with flames, her hands braced on his shoulders. For one blissful moment, he let her stay like that, her pussy full and her body tense. And then he grabbed her neck and pulled her down.
“Fuck me,” he growled. He held her in place and she began to lift her hips, riding him slowly at first, still getting used to the size of him. She picked up speed as lust licked at her center and tore through her body. As her pace quickened, Cristov thrust up to meet her, driving himself further into her pussy each time. Her eyes popped open as he slid into her, someplace she’d never felt before, someplace that seemed to explode with pleasure when he stroked harder into it.
