by Ember Leigh
“Like what?” He tugged his briefs up, his cock still making an impressive bulge. His shorts followed next.
“Like the Hoover Dam broke open.”
He laughed, tugging on her hands. She giggled as he swept her up into his arms.
“Where are we going?”
“Just over here.” He tossed her onto the bed. She bounced gently, loving the view of him from this angle, the satisfied cloud that clung to him, the chain holding his stepfather’s ring dangling between his pecs. “For round two.”
She pressed her toe against the flat plane of his lower abs. “You want me to do it again? Tough luck. Turns out I’m really good at blowjobs, so this time, I’m charging.”
He expelled a laugh through his nose. “No, Genny. What I mean is, this time, I make you come.”
He tugged at her shorts. Once they crested her hips, his intention hit her. He wanted to go between her legs now.
To the place where only their hands had ever ventured.
Chapter 24
“Oh.” She tsked, swatting his hands away before he could roll the shorts off over her ankles. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I like making you come,” he said, pausing in his disrobing.
“I like when you make me come,” she said, barely above a whisper. “But you don’t have to…” she gestured to her crotch. “You know. It wasn’t on my list.”
He lowered his chin, his greedy gaze growing darker. Mischief tightened the air between them, as if a studio audience had suddenly arrived to gasp at the turn of events.
“Red.” He tugged the shorts one more time, and they popped off over her feet. “If you tell me no, that’s one thing. If you think you’re not gonna like this…just wait.”
Panic streaked through her. Somehow, the idea of his head between her legs ranked as the least sexy thing she could imagine. Who knows what he’d find down there? Bits of toilet paper? Messy hair? She couldn’t even examine herself with a hand mirror. She hadn’t even bathed. Who in their right mind wanted to do this?
“But I—”
“Relax,” Cobra said, and then his velvety lips found her inner thigh, and she melted back against the bed.
“Much better,” he said throatily, the bed creaking as he adjusted his position. His head hovered above her pubic bone, his gaze as heated as his mouth. “Now tell me.” His kisses skipped up along her inner thigh, all the way up to the edge of her panties. His breath came out hot on the scrap of fabric covering her pussy. “Can I keep going?”
Her mind sang with confusion and excitement, practically white noise. She took two deep breaths before she forced out, “Okay.”
He hummed low, brushing his nose against the crotch of her panties. She jerked at the unexpected contact with her clit. His warm palms slid beneath her ass, cupping her solidly. Every breath between her legs made her tense. He took a soft bite of her inner thigh.
“Relax.” His voice was nearly a song. She pinched her eyes shut, allowing her head to drop back on the bed.
“I’m trying,” she said.
He shifted again, then a moment later, his fingertips grazed the crotch of her panties. Heat pooled low, churning slow and predatory. Every nerve ending in her body sparked with awareness. This was both torture and bliss.
Cobra’s molten gaze caught hers as he pressed his lips to the most sensitive area between her legs. Pleasure coiled tight. The damp heat of his breath enveloped her clit through the panties. A strange, hitching moan escaped her.
Her legs splayed open, as if he’d pressed some magical button that dissolved the tension threading through her. She pressed her palms against the bedspread, rolling her lips inward to stave off any more of those moans.
“Genny,” Cobra said, his voice breathy. His tongue flicked against the fabric covering the stiff peak of her clit. She jolted. “I’m gonna take your panties off.”
She couldn’t say anything. How could anyone say anything to that? He tugged at her underwear, and suddenly everything was in slow motion: the scrape of his nails against her calves, the waft of air meeting her womanhood, the churning anticipation that hovered between horror and desperation.
Because she wanted this—she did. She knew it the second he’d said it. She’d just been programmed to avoid, avoid, avoid. Oral sex had never even been mentioned in her community, not even as a sin. It was simply…absent.
But maybe the greater sin was not knowing about oral sex.
Cobra’s gaze caught hers. Question marks greeted her there, and she nodded, as though answering his silent question. He surged forward then, his warm lips finding the tight peak of her clit. And then it was damp heat and velvet lips and the wow wow oh my heavens sensation of his sweet tongue caressing and prodding and cradling her in all the best ways.
Her mouth parted again, all the air inside her solidifying as she tried to process the blunt force of the pleasure. It was hot and soft and slow and measured. And then his tongue dipped inside her—inside her—and finally a moan came ripping out of her.
Cobra chuckled from between her legs. He paused, resting his chin on her thigh. “You like it?”
Gen draped an arm over her eyes, unable to do anything but heave. “Keep going.”
Cobra did as he was told. His cashmere caresses resumed, fingers stroking folds, lips loving on her clit. It was an outpouring of love, in a way that positively sank into her bones. Pleasure burrowed deep, coiling and tightening until she thought she couldn’t handle it anymore. And then he pressed a finger inside her. Gen’s gasp practically ricocheted through the room.
“Is that okay?” Cobra glanced up at her, his tongue making lazy swirls around her clit as he awaited the answer.
Gen nodded hard, unable to find words, much less speak them. Cobra grinned, assessing her pussy once more.
“Genny, you’re so wet.” He pinched her clit between thumb and forefinger, which made her entire body jolt. She groaned into the crook of her elbow.
“Yeah,” he responded, as though she’d said anything of substance. “I get it.”
And then he was back between her legs, one finger pressing slowly inside her while his lips conjured soft magic around her clit. Her breathing went ragged. Inside, sensations rioted. He moaned from between her legs, too. As if this was even a fraction as enjoyable for him.
“You feel so fucking good.” His voice held a primal edge. One that sent her skin prickling.
Gen bit her bottom lip, trying to keep in the sounds that threatened to explode out of her. Nothing made sense. Everything made sense. She arched her back, urging more of the infuriating pleasure.
“Nnngh,” was all she could say.
He eased that finger in, and then slowly, deliberately, eased it back out. The slowness combined with the pressure and the silky warmth and his lips—it was too much. Every cell in her body vibrated. Desperate to climax. To fall headfirst over the edge, and never go back to a life without this.
Cobra slurped noisily between her legs, and she wasn’t sure what gave her the final push. Maybe it was the way he’d pushed his finger back inside her, or maybe it was that long, tight pull on her clit. Whatever it was, the heat that had been stalking her core finally ignited into a blaze. Every inch of her skin went rigid and hot, and she arched back, unable to scream, unable to speak, unable to do anything but hang tight and ride this orgasm to the end.
The pleasure assaulted her, from head to toe and back again. Cobra didn’t let up between her legs, simply held her with an iron grip around her butt cheeks as she writhed and sighed and moaned behind pressed-shut lips. Her chest heaved as much as her body quaked.
When the bliss cleared enough for her to think, Cobra watched her with a satisfied smirk on his face. Lounging between her legs as if he’d been there his whole life. And truthfully, she didn’t want him to go anywhere else. Now that he’d finally breached that fortress, he needed to stay there.
“Holy,” she wheezed, “Mother. Of. Fudge.”
His smirk turn
ed into a full-blown smile. One that she was sure nobody had ever gotten to see but her.
“Welcome to third base, Red.”
Chapter 25
Gen clutched a pillow between her arms as she stared at the blank wall of her bedroom. If she watched it for long enough, it could become the featureless taupe wall of her bedroom back home. And for some reason, a day after those mind-blowing orgasms, when she’d been at the pinnacle of her independence and womanhood, all she wanted to do was crawl back to the innocent bubble she’d left behind.
Guilt swarmed as thickly as breathy recollections of Cobra’s tongue pressing inside her. The way that heat seemed to spread like roots. And with every lascivious thought about last night came the internal reprimand.
What would your parents think if they found out? She clutched the pillow tighter. Bethany probably already knows, spying from Heaven. What sort of role model are you being for Mary? She pinched her eyes shut. How can you ever expect to find a husband now that you’ve gone and sullied yourself?
The rational part of her brain didn’t believe these thoughts. But every other part of her did.
Gen buried her face in the pillow, willing the thoughts away. Just lying in bed reminded her of Cobra’s delicious heat pressed against her. The way his fingers had dug into her butt cheeks. Branding her.
The alarm clock bleated weakly from her nightstand. She launched an arm to shut it off. She’d been awake for forty-five minutes already. Reliving the most amazing orgasms of her life. Praying for forgiveness. Wishing he was in her bed again already, so they could keep edging closer to home.
Gen forced herself to roll out of bed. She moved through her morning routine like a zombie—pee, brush teeth, comb hair for five minutes, then return to her room, where she knelt at the bedside, head pressed against the comforter.
She still did this every morning. The prayer position, etched into her from twenty-four years of practice. But since coming to LA, it was pure posturing. No prayers came anymore.
Nothing other than, Please God, help me find my way.
She stayed there until her strength returned. And then she clambered to her feet, resuming her zombie course.
Cobra would be at work today. She could at least gaze into those dark eyes and find the reassuring roots of what they shared yesterday.
But what about Mary?
Guilt slashed at her, and the deeper it cut, the more she knew it wasn’t about yesterday. It was about the whole damn journey. Leaving home. Choosing life over family. She’d settled on a year, calling it an homage to Bethany. But it wasn’t an homage. It was desertion.
She’d done what she wanted. Whether it was for a day or a year, it didn’t matter. She’d turned her back on the only family she’d been blessed to be born with.
Tears pricked at her eyes, but she shook her head, reaffirming that they had no place in this morning. Three months in Los Angeles, and she was doing far better than expected. That left nine months to see, do, and sin every way possible. She still wanted this for herself. Even if the other parts of her begged to differ.
But maybe you should go home sooner. Cut it off after six months. Or maybe just three?
The mere thought made her throat tighten. She’d set three months with Cobra. And she couldn’t imagine ending that phase of her independence only to go immediately home. What about Europe? What about the rest of the list? But maybe there could be a different compromise.
Mary’s request earlier that month came back to her: Come home for Thanksgiving. She couldn’t let her little sister down. Being a role model for Mary was one of the most important things in Gen’s life. Maybe she could make that work. Maybe she could go home with Cobra.
The idea percolated inside her as she got ready for work. It wasn’t like she wanted Cobra to move home with her—that was impossible. But she wanted her family to know him. The first important man in her life who wasn’t Father or Jesus himself. The man who had…cracked her open.
Surprisingly little resistance to the idea emerged the longer she toyed with it. And by the time she bounded out the door of the apartment, headed for Holt Body Fitness, it was decided.
She’d invite Cobra to meet her family.
Everything on the way to work inspired her. The lead tang of smog even held an uplifting quality. As she breezed into Holt Body Fitness, she spotted Cobra at the front desk. He leaned over the shoulder of the receptionist as she sat at the desk, showing him something. His sleeveless Holt shirt showcased sinewy biceps and black tufts of armpit hair. He grinned as if whatever she said was the funniest thing in the world.
Standing far, far too close to her.
Gen stopped mid-stride, unable to rip her eyes from the scene. Something hot and vile shuddered through her, making her ankles weak, as if she could crumble into pieces if anyone so much as breathed on her. Cobra glanced up. His sharp gaze jostled her back to reality.
And that’s when it hit her.
You’ve fallen down the tunnel.
She forced herself forward, limbs stiff and strange. Cobra straightened as she approached. She couldn’t even force out a greeting. She simply smiled and walked by.
Question marks hung in the air as she headed down the back hall leading toward the offices. Cobra’s footsteps sounded behind her a moment later.
“Thought with how good I made you feel yesterday, I’d at least get a ‘hello.’”
She kept her head down, disgusted with herself. Jealousy ran rampant within her…and Cobra hadn’t even done anything to warrant it.
“Sorry.” She pushed the door open, dropping her bag on the desk. Cobra shut the door behind him, and she leaned against the desk, covering her face with her hands. “I don’t know what got into me.”
“Rough morning?”
She ran a hand through her hair, feeling some clarity return to her. But when she looked at Cobra, he was all she could see. Filling every square inch of this office. And she needed him. More than she could understand.
“Can I have a hug?”
Cobra eyed her for a moment, as if the question had surprised him. But then his thick arms were around her, squeezing her into against the flat planes of his chest so that she melted against him. She found the fragrant nook of his neck, where it still smelled like his morning shower and that undeniable manly scent of him. Vetiver and laundry. A sigh shuddered out of her. He felt perfect against her. And she didn’t want to let go.
Cobra started swaying slowly—a gentle rhythm that lured her away from her anxiety.
“Were you jealous, Red?”
The question made her inhale sharply. She pulled back, but Cobra kept her rooted against him, hands at her lower back.
She searched his face. “How did you know?”
A knowing smile emerged, but it wasn’t haughty. Just soft. “Saw it all over your face.”
“It’s embarrassing.”
“Why?”
She huffed, focusing on the bold black letters of his HOLT shirt. “Because I like you. A lot. And I know you’re only helping me out. But I…” She bit her bottom lip, unsure if she could say what she really felt. “I shouldn’t feel jealous if you wouldn’t feel jealous too.”
Cobra’s eyes darkened, his hands sliding down the dip in her waist to rest at the swell of her hips. “You don’t think I would?”
She shrugged. “I doubt it. I mean…it’s me. There’s nothing to get jealous over.”
He laughed a little, but it sounded incredulous. “Red, you have no idea, do you?”
“What?”
“How beautiful you are.”
His words floated through her, like fall leaves on a gust of wind. It was poetry—and also foreboding. Part of her didn’t want to believe him. The other part wanted to take his buried meaning and run with it.
“I don’t know what that has to do with anything.”
“I already told you.” His thumb grazed her jawline as his eyes rooted her. Swirling with depth. An intensity that made the rest of the world f
all away, as only he could do. “You’re mine.”
She covered his hand with hers, loving the soft scrape of his rough fingers against her skin. The way his touch could soothe and electrify at the same time. “And?”
His eyes narrowed slightly, as if he objected at her drawing the words out of him. “And maybe I’d get fucking jealous.”
“Maybe I’ll go hang on some strange man. Just to see.”
He cupped her face with both hands, bringing his face to hers. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
She giggled as their lips brushed. This feeling—right here. She could get used to it. They kissed for a few glorious moments. All the tension of the morning fell away, but one thing remained.
“I forgot to ask you yesterday,” she murmured against his lips. “Why did you draw a picture of me and throw it away?”
Cobra’s face fell. “You found that?”
She nodded.
“I don’t like other people seeing my drawings that much.”
“Cobra, it was incredible. I want to see more.”
Something skittish danced over his face, as if he was a breath away from just turning and leaving. “I’ll show you if you want. You’re the only one though.”
“Yeah?” She gripped his hands in hers.
He nodded. “You’re probably, like, the third person ever to see what I draw.”
The designation meant more to her than she could express to him. Emotion shuddered through her. “Well, I want to see all of it.”
Cobra ran his thumb over her jawline. Maybe he didn’t want to let go of her. “I’ll see you at lunch. Okay?”
She nodded, and he gave her one last searing look before letting himself out of her office.
The work day plodded along. Gen managed to escape into a pleasant cloud of numbers and account reconciliation before she realized it was time for lunch. Her belly grumbled hopefully, but more potent than her hunger for food was her hunger for Cobra.
