by Brill Harper
He looks at my hand and then at my face, raising one eyebrow. “What’s up, babe?”
“I think Shar has already forgotten about Thursday night. Do you want me to remind her?”
He cocks his head to one side. “Remind her of what, Annabelle?”
I loop my arms around his neck. “That you’re my man, and I get jealous sometimes.”
A grin splits his face. “How are you going to remind her of that, exactly?”
I pull him down and kiss him. Not the pecks we’ve been giving each other in public the last few days, but a real kiss. Like the ones we shared on Thursday.
His hands go directly to my hips, and he grabs them roughly while groaning into my mouth. I forget this is for Shar and greedily take everything he’s giving me.
A buzzing starts, deep in my center, and vibrates out throughout my body. It feels like I’m waking up to something. He deepens the kiss, and I start thinking about how there are too many clothes. On him. On me. I want them off.
He pulls back. His lips are swollen and redder. “In my office. Now,” he commands, and pulls my hand with him as he strides to his office, nearly dragging me along.
He slams the door closed behind me, and I think he’s going to yell at me, his features so sharp and tense. His eyes narrow on me, and I’m about to apologize when his mouth hits mine, cutting off any words I might have been about to babble.
I gasp and he uses the opportunity to thrust his tongue back into my mouth, pressing me hard into the door behind my back. He’s hard everywhere that I’m soft, and all my senses come alive under him. His cock is pushing against my mound, and I become hyper-focused on the need for friction. I’m pinned to the door by his body weight, but he seems to understand my desires even more than I do, and he lifts one of my legs over his hip and grinds his cock against my core.
“I need to see you come,” he growls, and rotates his hips, pressing, grinding.
My head falls back against the door, and he takes the opportunity to latch his mouth on the skin of my neck while he works his magic against my aching core. When he bites my neck, my entire body explodes into glittery stars as I cry out. I’m falling. I’m flying. I’ve gone supernova.
“Oh, fuck. That’s it, babe. You’re so beautiful when you come.” He lowers my leg and puts his hand on the back of my head bringing me to him while I gasp for normal breath and tremble in his arms. “So beautiful.”
When the world comes back into focus, I realize he’s petting me and murmuring sweet words.
“Wow,” is the only word I can manage.
“Yeah, wow. I loved getting you off on my body, gorgeous. That was so hot. But I need to get back to work. Are you okay?”
I’m shaky and confused. “I’m...should I be embarrassed?”
“Are you kidding me? I loved it. You can use me for your pleasure any time you want to.”
“But you didn’t...”
“Not yet, no. It’s okay. I’m a grown man. I can survive, I promise.” He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear tenderly. “Dry humping you against a wall is a reward. And believe me, when I take myself to hand later, I’ll remember every detail. That glossed over look in your eyes, those sweet sounds you make when you’re close. The way you called my name.”
“I called your name? I don’t even remember that.”
He plants a kiss on my forehead. “Perfect.”
“I think I’ll stay in here for a few minutes.”
“Okay. We should talk, though. After my shift.”
I nod, though I think talking sounds ominous.
And then he kisses me again, and I forget to overthink anything for a change.
Chapter Eleven
Anker
AFTER CLOSING, I TAKE her upstairs, watching her as she inspects the apartment. “It’s not much,” I say, wishing now I had a nice place to show her.
“It has original molding. You can’t find that in most places anymore. Did you know that—?” She stops and presses her lips together tightly.
“Know that what?” I ask.
“Nothing. I was going to tell you a trivial fact about molding and architecture and realized I was being nerdy again.”
I lead her to the couch. “I told you I like your brain. Tell me.”
“It’s silly.”
“Tell me.”
She gives me a long explanation of original building techniques for the era when this block was built. I’m amazed by how much she knows about something that has nothing to do with her current studies. The whole idea that we have an underground city fascinates me. So do her plump lips.
When she finishes her story, there’s a long awkward pause.
“So, about that talk,” I say, not even sure what I want to talk about. Only that I wanted her here. In my apartment. Not just paying attention to me for show.
“I’ve been thinking that maybe we should amend the virginity clause,” she says.
Damn if hearing her say virgin doesn’t go right to my dick. “How?”
“My original idea was to have it...taken care of...by someone who I wouldn’t see again. Socially. I feel like maybe now we’re friends and it would be too weird. I’ll still be your fake girlfriend, but I think I should find someone else for the other part.”
Something inside me just flips at the thought of another man touching her. I’ve never been a jealous guy, but I’m consumed with the need to take her, mark her as mine. If any other man so much as looked at her right now, I’d take him apart with my bare hands.
“You’re mine for a month,” I say, trying to keep my tone even. Will a month even be long enough?
“I know. I mean after.”
“You asked me to take your virginity. Why are you changing your mind now? We both know I’ll make it good for you. You liked the back of my office door just fine. You trust me, don’t you?”
She nods. “Yes, of course I trust you. I just...I don’t want it to be weird between us.”
There’s more going on here, and I have a feeling it goes back to what she said the night we agreed to this. When she told me I wasn’t allowed to fall in love with her. Is she afraid she’s getting too close to me?
My heart cracks when I look at her. She’s scared. Something about love spooks her. I can’t stand the thought of her afraid of anything. She should want to fall in love. Be loved.
From the first night I walked her home, that feeling of needing to keep her safe has never gone away. It only seems to get stronger. I need to protect her. It’s bone deep, like I’m hard-wired to be her...
No. This is crazy.
I’m not even sure where I’m going with this line of thinking.
She’s afraid of love, and I can’t stand her being afraid of anything. The only way to keep her safe is if I am the one who loves her. Then no one will ever break her heart.
Fuck me. I’m in love with her.
My first instinct is to tackle her and tell her. With words and my body. But no. If she’s spooked, I’m going to have to come at this from a different angle. I’ll need to earn her trust, or she’ll shut me out and run.
Holy shit. I’m in love. I never thought it would happen. But now it seems like it’s something I’ve always known. I just never put the right words on it.
My heart is racing, but I have to be chill. I need to be slow and gentle about this. I’m going to ambush her heart, but she needs to not realize it’s happening until it’s too late for her to run away from it.
“I think we should stick to the original deal. We shook hands. That’s binding.”
She does this cute little eye-roll. “Do you promise it won’t get weird? Like...we’ll still be friends, right?”
I’m going to be the best friend she’s ever had. “I promise.”
“Do think we should do it tonight?” she asks. “Get it out of the way?”
I see two things in her eyes—fear and excitement. She wants me. That’s the best part. But I need to go slow.
“No, not tonight. Not
yet.”
“Oh,” she says, not hiding her disappointment.
Good.
“We need to work up to it.”
“Work up to it?”
I smile, but judging from the way she sharply inhales, it’s not the kind of smile that’s exactly friendly. Which makes sense, because what I’m thinking about right now is not friendly in the least.
I start kissing her neck. I love the way she smells. I love the way she shivers when my teeth graze her skin. The way she gasps when I bite her earlobe.
“What are you doing? I thought...”
“What did you think? Did you think we would only act like we’re together in public, and then one night we’d have sex and that would be it?”
“Well, yes.”
I come across the mark I left on her earlier and lick the bruise. I love seeing it there, even if that makes me some kind of animal.
“Babe, losing your virginity is more than a single act that lasts a few minutes.”
“It is?”
I begin unbuttoning her shirt. “Oh, it is.”
“So, if we are not having sex tonight, why are you unbuttoning my shirt, Anker?”
“Would you believe me if I said I wanted you to be more comfortable?”
She giggles. “No. We should do it tonight. Get it out of the way. Over and done, you know? Have the sex and cross it off the list.”
Over and done is not happening. “What we are going to have is heavy petting. And I’m dying to see your tits, Annabelle. I have been for weeks.”
There’s no red light, so I peel apart her shirt and get my fill of those fucking juicy melons encased in white lace stretching the limit of its seams. They are nearly falling out, and I have to squeeze my hands into fists to keep myself from grabbing them. Pale, blue veins beg me to trace them as they crisscross over the soft, white flesh. I groan. She’s so fucking hot. The bra clasp is in front, but I tear my eyes off her tits and see what is going on in her eyes. She’s apprehensive.
That won’t do. “Do you want me to stop?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know. I’m worried.”
I stroke her hair, amazed at the softness and all the damn colors. How did I not see them all the first night she was in the bar? “What are you worried about, gorgeous?”
Her eyes lower to her chest. “They’re too...big.”
“Oh honey, there is no such thing. Are you worried I won’t be into them? I promise you, I already think they are amazing. But if you want to stop here...”
“No, no. Keep going.”
I flip the little clasp, and her breasts tumble out. They are fucking perfect. I growl and cup them. I’m already thinking of oiling them up and sliding my cock between them—but that is for a different night.
Her tits are milky white, never seeing the sun, I’m sure. Since she’s shy about them, she probably doesn’t wear bikinis or low-cut suits in the summer. They are capped by large, dusky rose areolas, and her eraser nipples are hard right now, hopefully turned on by me, not the chill in my apartment.
I gently push her tits together from the sides to make her cleavage tight. Oh, fuck yeah. They feel fantastic. Soft, yet firm. They fill and overflow my hands.
With the lightest touch, avoiding her nipples completely, I begin massaging them. She responds by purring quietly, a sound that I feel in the base of my prick. As her excitement increases, the nipples harden more, and when I brush over them with the flat of my palm, her body jolts as if she received an electric shock.
“Easy, baby.”
She whimpers, and I get back to what I’m doing. I’m in no hurry. I take my time manipulating the soft, pliant flesh and watching her reactions carefully. Occasionally, I squeeze a little too hard, rolling her nipples between my forefingers and thumbs. She likes it gentle and a little rough. Good to know. Her nipples could cut glass right now, and I haven’t even gotten them in my mouth. When she starts moaning softly and her breathing becomes irregular, I decide to take things further. One of my hands strays down her chest, and I lightly massage her stomach. She tenses at first, and I can tell she’s self-conscious.
“Do you know how sexy you are? Your skin is like silk.” I keep massaging.
“You don’t have to try to make me feel better about my body. I know how I look.”
She starts to cross her arms over herself. “Babe, don’t hide yourself from me. I think you look perfect the way you are.” I’m just a dude—I don’t know if I have the right words for her. “You obviously don't know how amazing your body is, so I'm going to show you.” My lips move to her tits, and I lick her nipples, circling them with my tongue and sucking on them gently and then with increasing pressure. One then the other and back again. “I could do this all night. You are so fucking sweet.”
She lets her head fall back and closes her eyes as my hands begin to move down her body again. I keep rubbing, gently kneading her tits and her stomach and waist until I can feel her relax. She’s no longer tense, no longer trying to suck her stomach in.
“I want to make you feel good, Annabelle.”
“I feel fantastic.”
“I want to make you come again.”
Her eyes fly open.
“Do you trust me to make you feel good, gorgeous?” My hands are in the waistband of her leggings. Her supple skin trembles beneath my touch. And I pause, gazing into her eyes, desperately seeking her reassurance. She nods, looking a little dazed. I continue pulling the pants down her legs. "I want to taste you, Annabelle. Has anyone ever eaten your pussy?"
"No..." Annabelle says breathlessly, "Never."
She lifts her hips to help me get her pants off, but I feel her brace herself and stiffen in anticipation.
"Relax, I'm going to make you feel so good," I say tenderly, but I’m starting to feel unhinged. The animal inside wants to eat that pussy like it’s prey. I spread her legs and angle my body between them, giving me the perfect vantage point to feast on her sweet sex. My cock is throbbing relentlessly in my pants, but I don’t dare free it. Too much temptation.
My mouth waters in anticipation. I use my thumbs to open her swollen, glistening lips, the wet delicate pink folds hiding the pink pearl of her clit. She’s fucking perfect.
She sighs as I lower my head, but tenses again when I try to kiss her creamy inner thighs. I graze my beard on the soft skin. “Your body pleases me, Annabelle. Stop worrying about it.” She sighs again. I kiss her at her center and then start lapping at her pussy, gently flicking her clit with my tongue, savoring the sweet, tangy taste of her. I know I’ve got her where I want her when she starts moaning.
I suck on her tiny pearl, easing one finger into the tight entrance of her pussy, and she whimpers in response. She’s so tight. I know my dick is a monster. It would be a challenge for her even if I had a normal-sized cock, but how am I ever going to fit my cock inside her virgin pussy?
"Does that hurt you, baby?" I ask, watching her face with concern and pulling my finger out.
"No," she responds, "it feels good."
Thank fuck.
I lick my finger and slide it inside again, sucking on her clit while I do. She gasps and bucks against my mouth, her inner muscles clenching around my finger. She’s the sweetest thing I ever tasted. Creamy and rich and mine. She’s so fucking mine. The more of her I taste, the more I want. I have to loosen my pants because it’s starting to hurt, and I don’t want to be distracted from the best night of my life so far.
When I get my pants lowered enough to ease the ache, I squeeze her meaty thighs and bury my face in her pussy. She’s panting, her back bowing off the couch, and her hands dig into my scalp, holding on for dear life. “Oh God...oh God...oh God...” She lets out an animal groan and starts grinding against my face. I’m leaking so much pre-cum my briefs are soaked as I hump the fucking couch. I’ve never been more turned on in my life.
She cries out and comes hard, her sweet juices coating me, her fingers pulling my hair. I’m in heaven and I haven’t even touched my
dick tonight.
She starts trembling with aftershocks, so I move up her body to hold her closer. “You’re so beautiful. I love watching you come. I love making you come. It’s my new favorite thing.”
She laughs a little and wraps her arms and legs around me. Our bodies are pressed together tight, the only thing between us is my underwear, and they aren’t much of a barrier. I can’t stop myself from moving against her, and we both groan at the friction of my hard cock pushing against her warm folds. The mushroom head of my cock is peeking out, and the fucker is drooling pre-cum onto her stomach. I’m marking her. I want to bury myself in her, but I know I shouldn’t. Not yet. But I wonder how she’d feel if I marked her more.
I keep humping her slowly until I feel her rocking back against me. I let the tip graze her clit, and she moans.
“I want to come all over you, baby. Do you want my come?”
“God, yes. Please.”
“Are you sure? There’s going to be a lot. I’m going to make you so messy.” I drag the head of my dick over her again when I say it, and her body practically hums.
She gasps. “You make me feel things I don’t understand.”
I pause, my dick right there on her clit, leaking all over her.
“What do I make you feel?”
“Naughty. So naughty. I want to say...things.”
I grind my hips. “Don’t hold back. I want to hear every naughty word.”
She bites her lip and looks into my eyes. I think she’s measuring how far she can go with this. With me.
I lick her nipple, enjoying the sweet moan she gives me. “I want to hear every nasty fucking thing you’re thinking, Annabelle. I want to turn you inside out and make you an addict to my cock. I want to watch you walking around like a good girl in public and knowing when I get you alone, you’re a bad, bad girl with dark cravings that only I can take care of. So tell me anything you want. I swear it will only make me lov—like you more.” I bite down on the nipple, hoping to distract her from the fact that I almost slipped and told her I love her.
The sweet, sharp pain causes her fingernails to score my shoulders. “Fuck!” she yells. “Fuck, that feels so good. Anker!”
