by Nana Malone
I shook my head, trying to back away from him so I could think, so I could breathe. “East, I don't know.”
For some reason he looked relieved. “I can work with that. I know I don't deserve a second chance. Not after what I did with my first one, but I swear before God, I will work to earn back your trust. God knows I don't deserve it, but I'm not going anywhere.”
“And if I don't ever forgive you?”
“Then I’ll pine for you for the rest of my life. But even if you don't take me back, there is no way I'm leaving without you.”
“That's going to make it awkward for my next boyfriend.”
The feral snarl that rose up from his chest was quick and decisive. “What fucking boyfriend?”
His expression told me he was deadly serious. “You have got to be kidding me.”
I watched him as he swallowed hard and tried to compose himself. “Sorry, darling. It's going to take some time. A lot of time. But if you don't want me, I'll have to respect that. Unfortunately, I will still always see you as mine, so I might make his life difficult.”
“You know that makes you a stalker, right?”
“I'm okay with that.” He closed the gap between us, taking my hands tentatively at first, and then more firmly as he pulled me flush against his body. “Now, I’m going to attempt to kiss my way into your good graces. I know it's not enough. And I have much groveling to do. But let me kiss you. Let me take you to bed and give you enough orgasms that you’ll forget the last two weeks. It’s a start. That's all I'm asking for, Nyla.”
No one had to tell me this could end badly. My brain had already run through all the infinite scenarios where I’d get screwed. And not in the fun, eyes-rolled-to--the-back-of-my-head kind of way.
But I could see the anguish in his eyes, and I believed him. Just like he should have believed me. And maybe that was going to take some time to get over, but I wanted him so badly. I didn't want some rushed, dirty, clandestine meeting in the lift or some desperate bumbling behind a barely closed door. I wanted it all. I wanted him. And that was my stupid heart willing to risk it all again… for him. For this man.
“Take me to bed.”
East
This was the shot I needed. The chance I probably didn't deserve.
Don't fuck it up.
I didn't even know where to start. I was bloody nervous.
Nervous. Imagine that. The relief flooded my veins and told me that everything was going to be okay. I just needed to not fuck this chance up.
I took a step toward her, and the smile she gave me was tremulous. My heart broken in two because I was the reason that she was unsure. It was my fault. I hadn't talked to her. I had assumed the betrayal. I hadn't trusted her at all. So why should she trust me now?
Get your head in the game. Make this up to her.
It was only when I reached for her that I realized I was shaking like a schoolboy about to get his dick wet for the first time.
With my arms wrapped around her waist, she tilted her head up, her gaze open, searching mine. And I knew in that moment that I would do anything, whatever she asked. It didn't matter. She was mine, and I was hers. I leaned forward, and our foreheads touched. Her question to me was soft. "East?"
I inhaled deeply. "I missed your scent."
"I'm right here."
"I know."
I picked her up. Right off her feet. Her shocked gasp came out as a squeak and then a giggle, and then I tossed her over my shoulder.
"Oh my God, East. Put me down."
"Nope."
I carried her over my shoulder to the master bedroom and marched over to the bed. With my back facing the bed and the backs of my knees hitting the mattress, I eased her down my body, her curves pressing into my muscles. And then her hitched gasp took on a different note. A throatier one. One that told me exactly what she wanted from me. "Not very caveman of you."
"I have it on good authority you might like a caveman."
She laughed and shook her head. "All right, caveman, show me what you got."
With my arms still wrapped around her, I took her with me as I fell back on the bed.
I wrapped one hand around the back of her neck and drew her down to me. Molding our lips together, reveling in her taste as her tongue tentatively met mine.
With a little pressure, I angled her head so that I could deepen the kiss, and then I went from gentle and exploring to desperate and needy.
I pulled her with me as I scooted even further back. I didn't stop until my head hit the pillow. I kicked my shoes off and then adjusted us until she straddled my hips. "God, you're so fucking beautiful. I really, really, really don't deserve you."
"Yeah, tell me some shit I don't know."
With both of us quite aroused, I levered myself up to reach her and kiss her again. She tasted so damn sweet. The flavor of fine wine that I couldn't describe but knew the taste of intimately. Like she was a vintage made just for me. With my hands in her hair, the silken tresses falling over my fingers, I kept kissing her. If nothing else happened, just the ability to freely kiss her without feeling that tightness in my chest was a gift. One I probably didn't deserve. She rocked against me, the heat beneath her leggings hitting me exactly where I needed her on my dick. She rolled her hips tentatively, and I groaned into her mouth. I didn't have to tell her what I needed. I didn't have to ask her to do anything, she just moved. Rocking over me with our clothes on, making every moment dirty and thrilling and something I craved.
I wasn't sure which one of us was in charge at that point. Me with my hands on her hips gently rocking her back and forth, or her, on top of me, knowing me well enough to know just how to drive me mad.
And then I felt it, that tipping point where it changed from slow and sensual to desperate and dirty.
It was like someone had pressed a nuclear detonator inside the both of us and, then we were tearing each other's clothes off.
When she sat over me in just her bra, she pushed me down hard and then reached behind herself and unclasped the bra in one swift movement of her fingers. When her breasts were free, I stared at them. I needed to worship them.
I sat up propping myself on my elbows again, reaching up to palm one of them, rubbing my thumb over the dusky tan nipple.
Nyla threw her head back, her breath coming in short gasps. "East."
"You're tits are fucking perfect. Did you know that?"
She arched her back even more, inviting me to keep going.
"Do you have any idea how many times a day I wank off to thoughts of you?"
"Do you now?"
She asked this even as she rotated her hips in a circular motion with that fever pitch of the slightly forbidden, just like when we were young. That need to have the other person but not quite knowing what awaited you. But knowing it was going to be beautiful.
Tracing my other hand up her back to give her support, I leaned her more so I could access both of her breasts. Kissing the tip of one, pulling it into my mouth, laving it, trying to inhale her honeysuckle scent, trying to make her permanently part of me.
When I moved over to the next one, she groaned loudly, perching herself slightly upright and digging her hands into my hair, holding me to her breasts. For some reason the right one was a little more sensitive. A fact I happily exploited.
As she held me to her, I sucked, nibbled, bit, licked.
All the while I could feel it coming, that sort of mind-blowing orgasm just on the precipice, sneaking up my spine like a tease. The kind that would surprise you and blow your fucking top off.
Fucking hell.
I should stop this, or we were going to be done before we even began.
When I tried to pull myself away from her, she held me fast.
I had to smile at that.
Fuck. I would rather be inside her, but if this was what she wanted, then this was what I would give. Because she deserved to have everything she wanted.
But then she pulled back. When I released her nippl
e, I stared at it, and it was red and abraded and puckered and looked well loved. My cock pulsed.
"Nyla, fucking hell. I could do that all goddamn night."
"I almost want you to."
"I have much more fun things planned too."
She shook her head. “No, I have something else in mind.”
The way she said it as her eyes twinkled and danced told me that there would in fact be torture in my future.
She started to scoot back out of my arms, and my instinct was to hold her tight. "Where the fuck are you going?"
"Release me."
I groaned but did as I was told.
And then she started to slide back. When she’d scooted back enough and her hips straddled my thighs, I watched her intently. Oh God, if she touched me, I was going to blow.
I would absolutely 100% blow.
My dick thought this was a fantastic idea.
But in my brain and my heart, I knew better.
I had one rule. Ladies first.
Nyla knew my rule, but she said, "There's something I've been dying to do."
A groan tore out of my chest. "Ny, I don't have any control. We can do this later, Just let me—"
But her delicate fingers were already wrapped around my cock and fucking hell, I saw stars.
The spike of pleasure hit me so hard I was pretty sure I started to shake, and I raised my hips to help her a little. Jesus, why did it feel like this? I thought I might die if I wasn't inside her soon.
But still, I wanted to come. Right the fuck now. No waiting, selfish. But I had to calm down because I had plans for her. So many plans…
She slid back even more, and my plans were forgotten the moment her tongue laved the tip of my dick.
I could feel it coming, the rush, the tingle… But then Nyla drew back, her long breath a mere whisper.
When I drove my eyes open and looked down at her she just gave me a beatific smile. "Oh, you didn't think I was going to let you come, did you?"
My mouth fell open, and I laughed as I dropped my head back. "Oh my God, you plan to make me pay."
"Hell, yes."
When her mouth was back on me, I wanted to yell glory to every single saint I'd ever heard about in church. But once again, she wasn't letting me lose control. This was about playing. About making me pay. When my hands went into her hair, she stopped altogether. When I gave her a questioning glance, she said, “Oh no, you don’t get to control this. I’m in control now.”
I shoved my hands into the duvet and made tight fists. Jesus she was going to kill me.
And she was giving it her best effort.
Her tongue stroked along the underside of my dick, stopping just when it reached the tip, flicking back and forth. She was an expert. This was all before running her hand up and slowly back down and then sucking me in whole.
Oh fuck. I was going to die. I was going to die of pleasure.
I kicked out my legs, gritting my teeth, tried to focus on anything but the heavenly sensations on my cock. Nyla didn't let up. I kept trying to warn her. I kept trying to tell her that this was a train I couldn't stop once it started.
But each time, she knew exactly when to stop, exactly how to torture me, and every time she stopped, all I could do was grip the sheets and moan my frustration, my need. I wasn't above begging. "Baby, please. Love, I know, I was a bad boy. I am sorry. Just please, fucking hell I need to come."
"Oh, do you? You need to come?"
"Yes, love. Fuck, Nyla, please."
"So, these two weeks when I've been all alone, what were you doing?"
"I told you what I was doing." Oh fuck. "I was wanking off to thoughts of you. Watching surveillance of you and wanking off some more. Wanking off to you in the shower. And then there were several times I wanked off to you in my office and then had to take a shower after that. Are you sure you want to hear this?"
She released the tip of my cock with a loud resounding pop. "Yes. I want to hear this. Because I want to know that you were just as tortured as I was."
"Yes. I was. I was horribly tortured. Please. God. Nyla."
But the torture continued. Didn't matter how much I begged.
She had zero interest.
At one point she sat back and smiled at the pre-cum leaking out of my tip. "I want you to know I'm still mad at you."
"Uh-huh, yep. Mad. I hear you."
I didn't care how mad she was. I needed to come. I needed to be inside her when I did.
This isn't about you, asshole.
That little voice of reason was the one I should've listened to. But God, it was so hard to listen because Jesus Christ, the woman could give head.
If there was a head-giving championship, I would volunteer as tribute to be her partner. Forever.
Her hand stroked over me lazily, keeping me just on the edge, and my hips rose involuntarily as she asked, "Oh my love, is there something you need?"
"Yes. I need to be inside you. Goddamn it, Nyla."
"Should I take mercy on you?"
"Yes, fucking mercy. God, I'm begging."
She raised her head, her gaze meeting mine. "You're begging?"
"Yes, I'm begging. Whatever you need, however you need it, please. I will take whatever you give me."
Then she sat back and scooted off the bed. I wanted to scream. I wanted to pull her back. I wanted to demand to know what the hell she was doing and where she thought she was going, but I didn't.
Instead I watched as her fingers went to the back of her leggings, hooked her thumbs in the elastic and tugged them down.
"Oh sweet fucking Jesus."
Once her leggings and knickers were gone, she climbed back on the bed. "You can touch me now."
I didn't need to be told twice. In one move, I pulled her up to me, melding my mouth with hers, my tongue playing over hers. Against her lips, I whispered. "You're a naughty girl."
"I'm pretty sure you liked it."
"Yes. Now, it's my turn to be in control."
Her eyes went wide as I easily rolled her on her back and was between her thighs in seconds. "I want you to hold onto the headboard. Let’s try not to break it, yeah?"
A smile played over her lips, and then I slid home deep. No preamble, no checking to see if she was ready because I already knew. Her hands clutched at my shoulders, and I held perfectly still. Fucking hell. So good. So goddamn good.
Her breath was hot against my ear. "Yes. God, I missed you so much."
And it was those words that I held on to. Those words that told me I had a chance to fix my colossal fuck-up. And I wasn't going to waste it. I wasn't going to ruin it. I pushed back to my knees while using my palms to widen her legs and to pull her to me as I rode her. I was not going to come under penalty of death. Not until she did.
I could feel her though, she was close. Already so close, my beautiful Nyla. My hands slid up her thighs, close to where we were joined. Her eyes went wide, and her hands looked like they wanted to move.
"Do you want to touch me?"
"Yes. I do."
I reached for her, and pulled her up, taking her thighs and bringing them up over mine so that she was seated in my lap. I melded my lips to hers, and we rode out the pleasure. Stroke and slide as I worked my thumb between us and slid over her clit. The trembling started in her legs, and I could feel her shuddering moan on my tongue. I slid one hand to her ass, palming it tight, my fingers gripping, holding her as I pumped. Sweat dripped from my forehead. And as she shook, her lips were still melded to mine until I slid my finger to her tight pucker. Then she tore her lips from mine and screamed, "East, oh my fucking God."
With an evil grin, I laughed and then pushed. Just the tip of my finger inside her arse and she exploded around me. There was no soft flutter and quiver, just a deathly vice grip like she was attempting to cut my cock off with her pussy, and I was here for every bit of that.
I wish I could say that I was able to shag her all night long. I wish I could say that I gave her some epic rid
e in the first go around. I wish I could say that I lasted for hours. But there was no way. No way I could hold back any longer. And I exploded. The bright white of bliss completely blinding me, as the two of us fell to the side, me still inside her, pulsing. Her around me, pulsing. The two of us intertwined, our foreheads touching, our noses pressed together, our breaths commingling. And then she opened her eyes, "Wow."
I gave her a smile. "Yes. Wow indeed."
Chapter 17
East
I knew it made me an absolute creeper to watch her while she slept.
But I couldn't help it. She did this thing with her mouth when she slept, like she was sucking on an invisible pacifier. Her plumped-up cheeks looked so adorable.
There was a part of me that worried if I slept, she'd wake up, change her mind, and run.
It's her flat. She's not running.
Goddammit, you know what I mean.
My subconscious didn't care. He was more than eager to point out that I was a complete and total arsehole. I had walked away from her. What the fuck was wrong with me?
You're damaged, that's what's wrong with you. Now don't fuck up this second chance.
"You're cute when your cock is stirring."
I blinked when I realized her eyes had fluttered open and she'd been staring at me too.
"Good morning, love." My voice came out huskier than I planned. But she seemed to like it. She gave me a soft smile.
"Good morning yourself. I didn't know you were staying."
Shit. She was still cagey and on edge. "I didn't have anywhere else to be. I meant what I said last night. Right here is where I plan on being, so if you want rid of me, you're going to have to explicitly kick me out. And even then, I might not get the message the first four or five times, not in a creepy, stalking and dangerous kind of way, but more of a—"
Her lips twitched. "Creepy, stalking, dangerous kind of way."
I frowned. "I'm not dangerous."
Her words were soft. "Yes, you are. To me."
“I was thinking, you should come stay at the penthouse.”
Her eyes went wide, and she blinked at me. “What?”
