by A. J. Downey
“Ugh, God! Get a room.”
Oz and I broke apart giggling even as the stranger passed by on the street, a man walking a little toy poodle of all things.
“Think we ought to take the man’s advice?” I asked, voice husky with desire.
“Fuck him,” Oz declared, voice low, and pulled me back into his arms.
I giggled into his mouth and that giggle turned into laughter as he kissed the side of my neck, making noises like a mad dog, devouring its prey.
“K, yeah, come on. Let’s go inside,” he declared, adjusting himself between our bodies, through his jeans.
I laughed and got up. He followed suit and locked his helmets, glasses, and bandanas away in one of the hard cases on the side of his bike, swiftly. He rose and followed me to my door, pressing himself against my back, breathing me in, massaging my hips through my jeans as I fumbled with the lock.
“You better get that door open,” he growled behind my ear and I very nearly fainted from the heat.
“Mm, having a hard time here,” I laughed nervously.
“I can see that,” he murmured, and his voice had gone all seductive.
“You’re not helping,” I sang out and the key finally turned in the lock. Twisting the knob, I shoved the door forward, relieved when we both practically stumbled into the apartment. Shutting the door behind us and shooting the deadbolt home, he spun me and pinned me up against the cool metal of the door, a knee between mine, hoisting me up. My legs twining around his hips unbidden, he fetched me back up against the door and pinned me there, trapping me like a butterfly in a killing jar, but I didn’t care.
All I cared about was his mouth on mine, his hands on my body, and getting my hands on the rest of him.
“Oh, God,” I whimpered. “Bedroom. Bedroom, now.”
He carried me bodily down the hall and I loved it. It was everything every little girl dreams of, feeling like a princess, her prince carrying her away and I knew I was a hopeless romantic, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. He threw me down on the bed and didn’t even hesitate, covering my body with his, delving his hand beneath the hem of my white ladies-cut tee and cupping my breast through my bra.
I moaned against his mouth as he worked his jacket with its brightly patched leather vest off his broad shoulders. He broke the kiss and I whined about it when he knelt up and looked around, he stood and put the coat and vest on the top of my dresser and dug through its pockets coming up with a condom.
“Thank God you’re prepared,” I said, reaching for him and he came back to me.
“I’m gettin’ too old to be a daddy,” he said and I laughed. “Plus, I ain’t gonna fit anything you got.” I stopped laughing.
“What?” I asked, not sure I’d heard him right.
“Oh, you’re gonna see,” he said with a charming, smart-assed grin.
He pulled his shirt off over his head and my mouth went dry and I swear, my brain went out to dinner without me. Muscle moved under his deep honey skin, his tattoos coming alive as he wadded the tee up and tossed it on my floor.
I sat up slowly, transfixed by the play of the light from the setting sun through my high bedroom window as it shone over the hills and valleys of his physique. I wasn’t worthy. I felt that insecurity deep, deep, and deeper still. About as deep as he’s gonna go, I thought to myself. It was too late to back out now, and even if in all reality it wasn’t… I didn’t want to, as selfish as that might sound.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, kicking off his boots.
“Nothing,” I lied.
“You can’t bullshit a bullshitter, Ellie. What’re you thinking?”
“I’m thinking I’m not good enough,” I whispered.
He snorted derisively. “Bullshit. You’re perfect,” he said and it was my turn to snort.
“Am not,” I declared, shrugging out of my sister’s coat.
He shrugged and cast my argument out of hand with a one-shouldered shrug and turning down the corners of his lips.
“And I say you are. Right now, you’re perfect for me.”
“Oh really?” My eyebrows went up.
“Yeah, really,” he said, hooking his fingers into the waistband of my jeans and hauling me, giggling, toward him. “Now shut up, you think too much.”
I laughed outright and he smothered my fit of giggles with another kiss, pressing his warm body over the top of mine, hands delving once more beneath my tee to caress my ribs. He didn’t stop there this time, though. He didn’t stop at my breasts, either. Instead he kept going, peeling the tee off, over my head.
I whimpered in protest at having to lose contact between my hands and the warm, smooth skin of his shoulders and back, but it was worth it, the way his warm brown eyes devoured what was beneath the simple white cotton. The way he hungrily ate up every inch of my exposed skin with his gaze, the way he trailed his calloused fingertips over my skin leaving gooseflesh in their wake.
“Oz…” the way I whispered his name was an impassioned plea, one he answered by unhooking my bra as he kissed along my jaw.
I didn’t exactly have idle hands the entire time. I let my fingertips roam the smooth, sleek curves of his muscled arms. He was nothing like my ex. My ex had remained fit, but he had been all long and lean – a runner’s build. Oz was something else. Oz was bigger, for sure, but also stronger somehow. Not in the physical sense, though there was that too. There was a serious confidence about him, a staunchness, a boldness that I found wholly appealing as he deftly stripped me out of the rest of my clothes.
I lay on my bed, vulnerable in the dying light, nude while he knelt between my legs still in his jeans and looked down at me, his gaze pouring over every exposed inch of skin rich and thick like honey, an almost physical touch, with nothing but appreciation in his eyes.
I was struck dumb, hanging on the moment for all it was worth, feeling it deep, as if a drop of his gaze had landed in the center of my soul, rippling out to the far edges of my existence, diffusing through my spirit as a drop of ink to a glass of water. It subtly yet profoundly forever changed me – that one look – and though I had no notion of what it was we were even doing right now, of whether this was a forever kind of thing or just in the moment, I knew that I would give anything for this moment to last forever.
“Kiss me,” I breathed, and I wasn’t asking. He smiled and leaned over me, kissing me solidly on the mouth, dragging his lips down my chin, worrying at the side of my neck until he found that one spot and had sufficiently exploited it to his own ends, leaving me shivering in his grasp, nipples pebbling into hard aroused points against his chest, the slightest friction against them sending delicious waves of sensation throughout my body but particularly aimed at my sex.
“Relax, baby,” he whispered against my body. “Just relax and enjoy the ride.” Of course, he didn’t give me even half a second to process his meaning before he laid his tongue flat against my pussy and ran the tip between my folds from my entrance to my clit.
I arched off the bed, tangling my fists in my bedspread at both hips as he pressed his hands to my inner thighs to keep my legs open. He didn’t pause for even a moment in his attack, mercilessly teasing my clit with his tongue, suckling on it gently, making me shiver, shudder, and shake as I unconsciously held my breath for so long, until I absolutely needed to breathe.
He chuckled against me, the vibration of it doing its own thing, adding its own sensation to the mix and I about died and went to heaven.
There was no comparison. Oz was absolutely nothing like my ex.
I made a strangled, frustrated noise at the errant thought. Low key angry with myself for even thinking of such a thing for thinking of my ex when I was with Oz now…
“That’s it, baby,” Oz encouraged, clearly thinking I was close, and he wasn’t exactly wrong. I just wasn’t as close as I’d been the mere moment before. I silently cursed myself and tried to relax, his voice encouraging me further. “That’s it, baby. Breathe, just breathe.”
He slipped a finger inside of me and I tightened around it reflexively. He hummed in appreciation around my clit and I thrashed slightly. He put a forearm across my hips and pressed me down into the bed and I cried out, sitting halfway up. He looked up at me from between my thighs, eyes dark and full of a nameless heat, a power behind them that I’d never encountered before but made me want to bend to his will like a reed in the wind.
“Yeah, like that, just like that,” he praised, sliding his finger back and forth inside me. I moaned, biting my bottom lip at the sensation and he backed off of me and stood up, going for his belt.
I hadn’t come. Not yet, but I’d been so very close. I lay, breathing deep yet uneven as he slid the leather tongue of his belt through the loops holding the excess. Watching him stand there, staring down at me with passion and intent as he undid his belt stirred a desire in me like no other and the anticipation was murdering me.
I whimpered, feet sliding against the covers as I pushed myself up and centered myself on the bed. He swept his jeans and boxer-briefs down his legs and his cock bobbed between his legs and I froze.
He was huge.
I’m not talking just length, either. He was thick. Like crazy thick, as in almost as big around as my wrist and I wasn’t entirely sure how this was going to work. I mean, if it was anatomically possible for our bodies to fit one another… like… ‘How am I supposed to do this?’ definitely crossed my mind.
“You alright?” he asked, tearing open the condom and I looked up at him.
“Fine,” I said. “Why do you ask?”
“You keep eying my cock like it’s going to jump off my body and bite you,” he said and I couldn’t help but laugh. He rolled the condom on deftly and why was it so hot watching a man get himself ready to fuck you like that?
“I’ve never been with someone quite so…” I trailed off.
“Big?” he asked with that rakish grin of his.
“Yeah.”
“Well,” he slid onto the bed with me and put a hand on one of my knees, “Now you know why they say, ‘once you go black you never go back.’”
He winked at me and I burst out into a fit of ridiculous giggles at his utter audacity. I mean, he had every reason to be audacious and I still wasn’t sure how…
“Hey.” I swung my eyes back to his from where I’d fixed them to the tops of my knees, to his hand atop the one.
“Slow and easy,” he said. “We got all night.”
I nodded and he leaned up and kissed me, pressing his lips against my jaw, near my ear he murmured, “You ever want me to stop… you need me to stop, all you gotta do is say so.” I nodded, not quite trusting my voice and he said to me, “Lie on your stomach.”
“Why?” I asked, suddenly apprehensive.
“You trust me?” he asked. I nodded and began to comply, and he nodded too. “Good.”
I lay on my stomach and he straddled the backs of my thighs. His hands fell lightly onto my shoulders and he rolled his thumbs against my back, gripping and kneading; combatting the tension that’d taken up residence in my muscles with my unease.
I groaned with a different sort of pleasure, then. I’d forgotten what it was like, the feel-good of simply being treated well. Of being taken care of… and I let him. I turned into proverbial putty in his hands, sinking into the mattress below me, the slight euphoric haze of pleasure, of relaxation, that my body had held before his pants had come off returning to me.
He teased me to a fever pitch, and I twined around him like a vine. I was so wet, so excited, I wanted him so badly and once again, he didn’t disappoint. He pressed against my opening and I squirmed a bit, writhing against him, the dichotomy of excitement and fear intoxicating as he carefully eased himself inside me – stretching me, making me feel impossibly full.
I forgot to breathe, the connection impossibly deep and going far beyond physical. I bit my bottom lip and closed my eyes and simply concentrated on that feeling, that sense of unity, and nearly wept at the sense that I would never be alone again… even if it was merely an illusion, it was one I needed right now and I held onto it, onto Oz, for everything I was worth in that moment. I held onto this with everything I had and wished so deeply that it would translate into forever.
17
Oz…
God, the way she moved under me was so hot. Her hands on my ass, urging me to fuck her, her legs twining around my waist, her body arching into mine, it was all just so hot, and I couldn’t deny her or myself anything.
I couldn’t hold back, I thrust hard, losing myself in the rhythm of deep, hot, good and sloppy sex.
She was so wet, I glided in and out of her effortlessly, her walls tight around me, her pert breasts pressing against my chest, the way she plunged her tongue past my lips, it was like we were an endless circle – no telling where I left off and she began. Two sides of the same coin – and I never jived so completely with anyone in my life even with how different we were.
It was some kind of crazy, and I liked it. Couldn’t get enough of it. Couldn’t get enough of her.
“Mm, don’t stop!” she begged when I slowed, but I couldn’t keep up the punishing pace forever. As invincible as she made me feel, I was still just a man and fallible, my body giving up when I could have gone forever like she asked. I had an idea, though.
“Come on, baby.” I moved her, posed her, laying her on her side, straightening out her bottom leg against the mattress, straddling it, bending her top leg, knee toward her chest. She twisted pressing her shoulders flat to the bed to watch me, as I pressed myself back into her, hands on her hip that faced the ceiling.
I knew she’d like that. I had a sort of side curve, a bend in my dick, and this position worked for me, shoving the head of my cock against the roof of her pussy, stroking over that spot that drove women wild but that most dudes, for whatever reason, couldn’t seem to find.
Her head fell back, her hair fanning out over the bedspread like a halo and I gripped her titty in one hand, kneading it, concentrating on her face, every line etched deep with ecstasy.
She was beautiful. Organically sexy. Smart, funny, and even sassy when she had the nerve. She was everything I found attractive in a woman and right now, she was mine and the overwhelming sense of gratitude that I felt over that was something I couldn’t fathom. I struggled with it but not enough to be distracted from my purpose at the moment which was to make the both of us feel so damn good it hurt.
I stroked deep, closing my eyes and turning my head as I listened to her soft moans that punctuated every thrust. Her voice was like music, her body wrapped around mine like iron. Her pussy was so damn good, I just wanted to get lost in the feel of her forever.
Damned if forever wasn’t coming up on me faster than I wanted it to, though. I wasn’t about to come early but she felt so good I might not have a choice. Didn’t mean I was going to leave her unsatisfied – oh, hell no. That wasn’t something I would ever do.
I struggled to hold myself back, but as any dude knows – you ain’t really got no say in the matter. You gonna come, you gonna come. Sometimes there just ain’t no turnin’ back. I was struggling now more than I ever did as a young buck and that was sayin’ something. Except now, I didn’t think Elka was the type to head outside and start talkin’ shit about me if I busted this nut too early.
She tightened around me, and I fuckin’ stopped for a second crying, “Jesus Christ!”
She just gave me this sexy little smile, biting her bottom lip and I was just done. I couldn’t anymore, I just couldn’t. The visual paired with her body gripping my cock, rubbing around me, slipping inside her, coated in her warm, sensual honey… I lost my shit, thrusting inside of her hard, losing control, the orgasm crashing into me, over me, electric current running from my skull down my spine.
I buried myself deep, spilling inside the condom, deep inside my woman, and it felt like coming home. Euphoria sweeping through me like somebody’d popped the cork on my champagne, my blood fizzing with it, whole b
ody tingling from the inside.
This woman was a rush and the ride wasn’t over, yet… even if it was technically curtains for me for the time being.
I held the condom on myself and pulled out, Elka shuddering beneath me, her pussy gripping my cock, twitching, and I knew she had to be close if she hadn’t gone over already.
I didn’t dispose of anything, I didn’t care at the moment. The only thing I cared about was making this woman come, so I moved her, bodily onto her back, dragged her down the bed and set myself to feast.
She was so fucking wet, all purest velvet and core strength wrapped around my fingers as I fixed my mouth over her clit. She writhed, hands on her breasts, diving between them, caressing my head pressing my mouth tight against her and it was the hottest fucking thing watching her let go, watching her trust me, taking all of what I had to give her.
I watched her, eyes heavy lidded with passion as she watched me back, her pussy tightening around my fingers the closer she got. Her breathing, harsh, deep, but even until she got closer still and it lost its rhythm some until with a final cry of pure bliss, she came.
Watching her come apart was beautiful. The way she arched, the way she shook, the way her voice painted the room a deep erotic hue… I don’t think I could ever get tired of seeing it.
She laid limp and spent in the middle of the bed, her chest rising and falling in an evening cadence, her face slack with peace like she’d somehow found God with that orgasm and I felt pretty damn pleased with myself. I kissed her hip, slipping my fingers from her gathering wetness and kissing her hip. She jumped at the slight touch of my lips, her skin warm and likely still oversensitive.
I climbed her body like a flowering vine, laying blossoms with my kisses, until finally I came to rest beside her, a hand on her stomach, just below and between her still heaving breasts. I propped my head on my hand and just watched her, smiling, because how could I not? It was hard not to congratulate myself on a job well done here. Especially when she turned those warm brown eyes on me, all aglow with good sex and a hint of something else in them that both scared me and didn’t because I already knew deep down, I felt the same way.
