Rush

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Rush Page 12

by Samantha Towle


  “I don’t understand.”

  He looks at me, and the look in his eyes…anguished, makes my heart clench. “Yesterday, when you came to my apartment and told me the truth and apologized, you were so fucking brave. And I was a coward because I should have been apologizing to you, too. For all the shit I’d said to you. The way I’d acted toward you.”

  “It’s in the past, Ares. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Yes, it does. I judged you. I was a total asshole. And you’re this amazing, talented, incredibly strong, beautiful woman, who fights and slays her demons every damn day, and I’m a coward, who let my own shit get in the way of me seeing all of that…seeing who you are. And I’m so fucking sorry, Ari. But I promise, I will make it up to you. I will treat you the way you deserve to be treated.” Another kiss to my hand. “I like you for who you are. Baggage and all, babe.”

  And I’m done for.

  This guy. Sweet Jesus, this guy. He slays me.

  I can feel my throat starting to close up. “You’re going to make me cry and I really don’t want to because I’m not wearing waterproof mascara and I look really bad when I have panda eyes.”

  He lifts his eyes to mine, and they’re glittering with emotion and some other thing I can’t quite put my finger on.

  He presses one final kiss to my hand before turning the engine on and putting the car into drive.

  But he doesn’t let go of my hand the whole ride there.

  “I had a really great time tonight.” I look across at Ares from the passenger seat of his darkened truck parked outside my apartment building, the shadows tracing his gorgeous face.

  And I really did. The restaurant was perfect. The food was amazing. The company even better. We talked about nothing and everything. Then, after dinner, we went to the cinema and watched The Big Lebowski and laughed our asses off.

  It was the perfect date.

  And he was the perfect gentleman.

  But, now, we’re at the part of the date where I don’t want him to be a gentleman anymore.

  He reaches over and brushes my hair off my face, tucking it behind my ear. “I did, too. But it’s not over yet…is it?”

  “Do you want to come in for…coffee?” I bite down on a smile.

  His brow lifts. “Do I get sugar this time?”

  “Oh, most definitely.”

  We get out of his truck, and Ares wordlessly follows me up and into my building. His hand is on my lower back as we walk up the stairs toward my apartment. That one small place on my body where he’s touching, everything inside of me is focused directly there.

  I can’t concentrate on anything but the feel of his fingers gently pressing into me.

  It takes all my concentration just to get my keys out of my bag and unlock my front door, letting us in.

  I close the door behind us. “So, about that coffee—”

  The rest of the sentence is sucked right out of my mouth when I’m picked up and pressed against the door by a hot, hard football player as he kisses the hell out of me.

  And it’s the wettest, dirtiest kiss I’ve ever had in my life.

  “I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” he rumbles against my lips.

  “Feel free to keep doing it,” I say breathlessly.

  A deep chuckle thrums through his chest, lighting me up. “Bedroom?”

  “That way.” I point.

  Then, we’re moving, and this man mountain is carrying me to my bedroom while I cling to him like a spider monkey to a tree.

  We reach my bed, and he lays me down on it. Standing there, one knee resting on the bed, he stares down at me.

  “Fucking beautiful,” he says.

  And my insides glow like I’m filled with a million lightning bugs.

  He takes my heels off, one at a time, dropping them to the floor.

  I remove my jacket, tossing it aside, and take off my necklace.

  He holds his hand out for it. I give it to him, and he puts it on my nightstand. Then, he takes his wallet, cell, and car keys from his pocket and sets them beside it.

  “Just so we’re clear, I’m spending the night.”

  I raise a brow. “And if I don’t want you to?” I’m teasing. Of course I want him to stay over, but I need to exert some authority here.

  “Then, we don’t fuck tonight.”

  God, I shiver every time he says that word…fuck. He makes it sound so hot and dirty, all at the same time.

  He leans down over me, hands on either side of my body, mouth an inch from mine, those blues staring right into mine. “Like I told you yesterday, the first time we have sex, we’re doing it right. And right isn’t me picking my clothes up at the end, dressing, and going home.”

  My heart shimmies in my chest. “Why does it matter so much to you that we do this right?” I ask quietly.

  “Because I fucked up with you once before. I won’t make the same mistake again. This…what we’re starting here, is too important. You’re too important.”

  I’m important. I don’t think I’ve ever been important to anyone before.

  Tears sting the backs of my eyes, but I refuse to cry and spoil this moment.

  I slide my hand around the back of his neck and whisper, “You’re important to me, too.” Then, I lift my mouth to his and kiss him.

  He groans into my mouth, deepening the kiss, his body settling down onto mine. I part my legs, and he settles between them.

  He’s hard already.

  I love that I can turn him on without even having to remove a scrap of clothing. It’s doing awesome things for my ego.

  “I can’t believe I almost drove you away.” He presses his forehead to mine, exhaling.

  “You’re lucky I’m awesome,” I joke. I don’t want him feeling bad right now. The only thing I want him to feel in this moment is good.

  “I really am.” He kisses me again, his mouth moving a path along my chin, down my neck. Pressing kisses along my collarbone, down my chest, to the valley of my breasts.

  His fingers slide under the hem of my tank, the silk dragging up my skin, the rough pad of his fingers driving me to the point of madness.

  He slides down my body, pushing my top over my breasts, and starts pressing hot kisses to my stomach, making me squirm with desire.

  I reach down, take hold of my top, and pull it over my head, leaving me in just my bra.

  Kind of like the first time I saw him—minus being wet through.

  Well, I am wet. In fact, I’m soaking…so I guess it is like last time.

  His eyes fasten onto my breasts, pupils dilating. “Nice bra.”

  He licks a path up to my breasts. One hand covers my right boob, gently squeezing. The other, he sucks my nipple through the fabric of my bra. My hands fly to his hair, gripping the strands, my hips jerking up, seeking him out, needing to feel the press of him against me.

  His hand leaves my breast and takes hold of my thigh, bringing my leg up, opening me to him, as he moves against me, his denim-covered cock rubbing against the spot where I need him, while he continues to torment my nipple through my bra with teasing bites and sucks.

  Then, finally—finally—he takes my bra off, and then it’s mouth on skin.

  My thighs tighten around him, gripping.

  “You’re sensitive,” he murmurs as he licks my nipple, teeth gently grazing over my skin.

  “You’re driving me crazy,” I tell him.

  All the other men I’ve been with in my life, it’s been a quick foreplay fumble and then sex.

  Ares seems to be in no rush. Taking his time with me. Getting to know what I like.

  I slide my hands under his shirt, desperate to feel him.

  He stops what he’s doing to me, kneels back, undoes a few buttons on his shirt, then reaches back, and pulls it over his head, tossing it to the floor.

  Then, he’s back on me, skin on skin, and it’s heavenly.

  My hands roam his broad chest and back while he kisses my neck, nipping my jaw with his teeth, an
d then he covers my mouth with his.

  His tongue slides against mine, hot and hard, fucking my mouth like I want him to fuck my body. It feels like a promise of what’s to come.

  And, boy, do I really want to come.

  I’m starting to writhe beneath him, needing more, wanting all of him.

  His hand moves between us, fingers firmly sliding over the crotch of my jeans, pressing right where I need him. The relief of the pressure has me moaning out loud.

  “You want me here, Ari?” he asks in a guttural voice.

  “Yes.”

  “Say it. Tell me exactly what you want me to do, and I’ll do it.”

  I meet his blazing stare. “I want you to make me come.”

  “How?”

  He’s going to make me say it. I’m not shy, but I’m also not used to vocalizing what I want. I usually just direct the guys or go with the flow.

  But then I was drunk every time I ever had sex. Even when I lost my virginity, I was drunk.

  This is the first time I’ll have sex sober. The enormity of it hits me like a freight train.

  “It’s my first time,” I blurt out.

  His hand stops moving, his face slackening with shock. “You’re a—”

  “No! God, no! I mean…” God, this is mortifying. I cover my face with my hands. “This is the first time I’m having sex sober. All the other times, I was…” I trail off, not saying the words because he’ll know exactly what I mean.

  “Ari.”

  “Mmhmm?” I reply, not moving my hands from my face.

  They’re moved for me and pinned to the bed on either side of my head.

  “Look at me.”

  I open one eye, peering up at him. His expression is hot and fierce.

  “Both eyes.”

  I sigh and open the other.

  “We don’t have to do this yet, if you’re not ready. We can wait.”

  “I don’t want to wait. I’m ready.” So ready. “But I just realized that I hadn’t ever…and what if I’m not very good at it…sober?”

  “I don’t think that’s even remotely possible.”

  “It’s possible to be bad at sex.”

  “Not with me, it’s not.”

  “Cocky bastard,” I utter.

  He grins. “Babe, when two people want each other as much as we do, there’s no way the sex can be bad. It’s going to be hot.” A kiss. “And explosive.” A second kiss. “And it’ll feel so very fucking good.”

  The third time he kisses me, I keep him there, kissing him back hard, sucking on his tongue.

  My hands are still pinned to the bed. He starts to thrust against me. That big, hard cock pressing against my clit through his jeans and mine, driving me wild.

  “I want you,” I whisper to him.

  “And I want you, babe. Now, tell me how you want me to make you come.”

  “Your mouth. I want your mouth on me.”

  He grins wickedly, the promise of something amazing glittering in his eyes.

  He releases my hands. His go to the button on my jeans. He drags down the zipper. The sound is loud in the quiet of my room, like a needle scratching a record.

  He starts to pull my jeans down. I lift my butt, giving him easier access.

  My jeans are off.

  And I’m in just my panties. He leans down and presses a hot, wet kiss against my clit through the fabric of my panties, making me moan.

  “You’re soaked,” he groans, his finger drawing a line from my pussy to my clit.

  His fingers hook into the elastic of my panties, and he pulls them down my legs. Then, I’m completely naked for the first time in front of him.

  He’s kneeling at the bottom of the bed, eyes on me. His cock straining against the restraint of his jeans. He grabs his dick with his hand and squeezes. My mouth waters.

  I’m not self-conscious about my body. Yoga keeps me fit. But, even if I were…the way he’s looking at me right now would take any doubts away.

  He’s watching me like he’s starving, and I’m his next meal.

  “So fucking beautiful.” He shakes his head, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

  The praise in his words and his eyes light me up inside.

  He climbs back up the bed, hands pushing my thighs apart. He leans down, face close to where I want him most, and he gently blows air onto my pussy. The sensation of the cold against my hot, aching clit is thrilling.

  I want him so badly.

  His eyes lift to mine. “I’m gonna make you come so hard,” he growls. Then, he covers my pussy with his mouth and pushes a finger inside me.

  I nearly come up off the bed, but he holds me down with his other hand.

  He licks and sucks while he fucks me with his finger, driving me wild.

  “Play with your tits.”

  His hoarse order has me obeying immediately. I roll my nipples between my fingers, moaning when he slides another finger inside me, two now, and sucks hard on my clit.

  I’m not going to last much longer. It’s been too long.

  I want to move my hips, but his grip won’t permit it.

  He’s in control here, and he’s making sure I know it.

  I feel the rise of my orgasm climbing. My toes curl into the bed. One hand leaves my breast, going to his head between my legs, fingers tangling in the dark strands. “Yes,” I chant. “Yes…right there, Ares. Don’t stop—fuck!” My eyes roll back into my head as the most intense orgasm of my life hits and keeps going…and going.

  Ares doesn’t stop until I’m lax in my bed, and even then, his fingers stay inside me, slowly working me.

  “Jesus,” I breathe, opening my eyes, looking at him. “Sweet fucking Jesus.”

  He laughs deeply, although there’s no humor in his eyes. Only desire. Raw fucking passion.

  “I want to taste you,” I tell him.

  And he growls. “I want that, too, but I’m big, baby. This isn’t me being cocky—it’s a fact—and you’re small and tight. I need you to be ready to take me, and right now, you’re ready.” He pushes to his knees, sitting between my legs, still working his fingers in and out of me.

  “I don’t care.”

  “I do. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t.” And I’m sure of that. I know he won’t ever hurt me again.

  I push up to sit. His fingers stay inside me. Meeting his mouth, I kiss him. I can taste myself on him, and usually, that doesn’t do anything for me, but with him, it does. It turns me on even more.

  I grab his dick through his jeans and give it a squeeze.

  He moans a tortured sound. “You’re killing me, babe.”

  “Can’t have you dying on me.”

  I undo his jeans, dragging the buttons open, and I work his jeans down his legs. His fingers slip out of me, and he pulls his jeans off the rest of the way. Then, his boxers follow.

  And, sweet Lord, he’s naked in front of me. Big cock jutting up, straining toward his rock-hard stomach.

  His body is insane.

  I’ve seen men’s bodies like this in magazines and in movies but never in real life. He has muscles in places I didn’t even know you could have them.

  All that football and working out have clearly paid off.

  And I’m currently getting to reap the rewards.

  I have never wanted a man more or been as desperate to touch as I am with him right now.

  “You’re beautiful,” I tell him, my eyes lifting to meet his.

  Unnamed emotion flickers across his face.

  I move up onto my knees to him. My hand on his chest, I run my fingers across the ridges of his body, like I’m tracing a map down to the promised land.

  He cups my chin in his hand and kisses me deeply.

  I wrap my small hand around his huge dick. He’s hot and hard, like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I give a firm squeeze. He groans that tortured sound again into my mouth.

  I break away from his kiss.

  The way he’s looking a
t me…it’s intense. Hungry.

  No one has ever looked at me this way before.

  Like they see only me.

  I lower my head and take his dick in my mouth, sucking the tip.

  A hot breath shudders out of him. “Jesus, Ari.”

  I wrap my hand around the base of his cock, moving it up and down, as I take more of him in my mouth and start to work him over. Licking and sucking. I taste his salty pre-cum on my tongue, and it spurs me on further.

  I want to make him feel as good as he just made me feel.

  His fingers tangle in my hair. The other hand teases my nipple, rolling and pinching.

  I moan around his dick, and his hips jerk forward a little, giving me more of him.

  “Fuck, Ari…that feels so fucking good.”

  I take my hand off his dick and place both hands on his hips. I stop moving, his cock still in my mouth, and I stare up at him, telling him with my eyes to fuck my mouth.

  His gaze is pinned on me. He gathers my hair back from my face, holding it with his hand, and then he starts to move his hips back and forth, fucking my mouth.

  “Shit…this feels so good…too good.” He’s still pumping his cock in and out. “I need to stop.” He pulls out of my mouth. “Get on your fucking hands and knees—now, Ari.”

  Holy shit. Bossy Ares is here, and I like him a lot.

  I scramble onto my hands and knees.

  He grabs his wallet from my nightstand and gets out a condom.

  I hear the rip of foil. Then, he’s behind me.

  The next thing I expect to feel is his cock. So, color me surprised when I feel the hot breath of his mouth on my pussy. From behind me, his tongue pushes inside me, his thick finger pressing down on my clit.

  “You’ll come for me again.” It’s not a request, but I’m more than happy to fulfill it.

  My limbs are like jelly. I’m barely able to stay upright as he fucks me with his tongue. A blunt, rough finger teases my clit.

  I’m coming apart in no time. Shuddering around his mouth. This orgasm just as explosive as the first.

  When I can manage, I lift my head, staring back at him.

  He’s kneeling behind me. Cock in hand. “Are you ready for me?”

  “Yes.”

  He smooths a hand over my ass as he positions his cock at my entrance.

 

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