“Yes.”
I lower my head so my lips are inches from hers. “What does that feel like to you, Amie?”
“It feels l-like—”
“—like I’m playing you?” I skim the length of her throat with my free hand.
“No.” It’s the softest whisper.
“Does it feel like I’m being nice?” I rest a finger under her chin and tip it up so she meets my gaze. “I assure you, there’s nothing nice about the things I want to do to you, the ways I want to have you.”
“Oh. Well, that’s good to know.” The wide eyes and innocent stare morph into the same wild look I caught a glimpse of in her bridal suite. “Because I’m pretty sick and fucking tired of nice, polite sex.”
She grabs the back of my neck and pulls my mouth to hers. It’s not a soft, gentle kiss. It’s sure as fuck not polite. It’s tongues battling, her nails digging in to my skin, lips fusing, fire in my veins invoking. Her tongue finds mine, aggressive and searching. She slides her hands down my chest and works on my belt buckle. Jerking hard on the clasp, she whips it through the loops, tossing it on the floor.
Amie yanks my shirt free from my pants, then pushes on my chest, breaking the kiss. For a brief moment I think maybe she’s decided this is a mistake. But then she says, “Sorry about your shirt.” Instead of unbuttoning it, she grips the sides and pulls. A couple of buttons pop off. She does it again, and this time the rest of them come free apart from the two at the top since my tie is still around my neck. “Hmm. Didn’t work as well as I’d planned.”
I laugh and sit back on my heels, loosening my tie enough that I can unfasten the remaining buttons. Before I can remove the tie, Amie’s there to push my shirt over my shoulders.
“Look at you.” Her tongue peeks out as she drags her manicured nails across my chest and down my stomach.
The muscles jump under the lightness of her touch.
Her eyes flip up to mine. “Are you flexing?”
I shrug. Maybe a little.
“God. You’re so . . . Look at all these ridges.” She sighs when she reaches the waist of my pants. Eyes flipping up to mine, her smile is anything but innocent as she pops the button and drags down the zipper, chest rising and falling faster with each breath. I need to get her out of this dress.
Amalie keeps her gaze focused on where her hands are. She drags my pants and boxers over my hips. My dick, which is already really fucking hard, springs free.
“Oh,” she breathes. “Wow.”
I chuckle.
Her fingers flutter to her mouth and she lifts those wide, shocked eyes. “That’s, um . . . God.”
“If that’s what you want to call him, go right ahead.” I shove my pants and boxers off the rest of the way, leaving them in a heap on the comforter.
She brushes her fingers along the length. “I wasn’t sure if I’d exaggerated to Ruby when I told her about this, you know, when you flashed everyone at the Halloween soirée? It’s good to know I didn’t.”
She rises up on her knees, her dress hiked to her hips, those pretty pink panties totally on display now. Amalie pulls the cuffs of my shirt free from my wrists, then pats the pillow behind her. “You come here.” She takes me by the shoulders, encouraging me to lie where she was a second ago.
I don’t argue. She’s had little control over the things that have happened during the past week, so if she’s looking for power, she can sure as hell have it. As soon as I’m reclined on the pillows she lowers the zipper on her dress and lifts it over her head.
She’s braless, which I should’ve expected with the cleavage she’s rocking, and my cock jerks at the sight of her nipples. All that’s left is the pink lace panties with pale gray satin ribbons woven at the edges. Everything about her is fucking perfect.
Her expression is the tiniest bit uncertain until I wrap my hand around my cock and give it a slow stroke. “How long are you planning to torture me from over there?”
That gets a grin out of her. She hooks a finger under the lace band around her waist and drags it slowly over her hips and down her thighs.
This woman is a goddamn vision. She’s tanned and toned, long legs and sexy curves. And that sweet, bare pussy. I bet she tastes as amazing as she looks. “Fuck, your body,” I mutter.
“That’s the plan,” she says as she drops a knee beside my thigh and straddles my hips.
She traces my lips with her fingers and whispers, “Open.”
So I do, without thinking, because she’s gorgeous and naked and looking to ride my cock.
She slips her fingertip into my mouth. “Suck.”
I chuckle, but do as she asks, watching her teeth press into her lip. She trades her index finger for her middle finger, so I suck that, too. I don’t know why it takes me until she drops her hand, ready to hit the sweet spot between her thighs, to clue in to what she’s doing.
“Oh, hell no.” I grab her hand and latch onto the other one, too, just to be safe.
Her irritated confusion is fucking adorable. “What’re you doing?”
“If I’m fucking you, I’m prepping you. I get to do that.” She’s all delicate bones and narrow wrists, so I can easily hold them with one hand.
This time I’m the one slipping a finger into her mouth, telling her to suck. And she does. Her cheeks hollow out, and I think about what her mouth will feel like wrapped around my cock. Hopefully we’ll have a chance to get to that later. I drag a single finger along her slit, circling her clit a few times before I go lower and find her hot and wet. Easing in, I watch her mouth drop open and her lids lower.
After a few slow pumps, I add a second finger, and curl forward, getting the sweetest moan in response. I release her hands and lean in to suck one of those pretty little nipples of hers into my mouth while I rub on her clit with my thumb.
She breathes out, “Oh God,” and threads her fingers through my hair, keeping my mouth locked around her nipple.
“You still want me to fuck you.” It’s mostly a statement and not a question.
“You better not be thinking about stopping now.”
I chuckle and fumble around for my pants, which are thankfully still on the bed and search for my wallet. I still have my fingers inside her and I’m trying to maintain some kind of rhythm since every pump and curl causes her to moan. Flipping my wallet open, I find a pair of condoms. Amalie tears one free. Using her teeth, she rips it open and then rolls it on. She nudges my hand out of the way so she can run the head over her clit. And then she sinks down.
Her sharp inhalation and the way her eyes widen are a good indicator she’s taking it too fast.
I grab onto her hips to keep her still and steady. Sweet mother of fuck, she feels incredible. “Easy. I don’t want to break this perfect pussy.”
She snorts and rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t fight my hold. I lower her slowly, watching my cock disappear inside her until her ass rests on my thighs. Amalie’s nails dig into my shoulders and she makes a delicious, needy sound.
“See, I’m not broken,” she says, all soft-sweet.
“You’re fucking incredible.” A perfect, snug place to keep my cock buried.
She lets out this breathy little laugh.
I trail my fingers over her breast, gently skimming her nipple. “You ready to be fucked?”
Her cheeks flush, and then her lip curls up at the corner. “Are you?”
“Fuck yeah.” I lace my hands behind my head and lean back against the pillows. “Have at it, baby.”
She snorts. “Could you be any more cocky?”
“I don’t know, you’re the one who’s full of mine, you tell me.”
“You should shut up and just lie there and look good so you don’t ruin this for me.”
I’m about to give her some of that sass back, but she clamps a hand over my mouth. She leans in close, until her nipples brush my chest. “Shh. The only thing you should be doing with that mouth is kissing me.”
She drops her palm and sucks on my bottom lip while she roll
s her hips. “Oh God.” She does it again, her tongue sweeping my mouth at the same pace as she rocks in my lap. She goes slow at first, but it doesn’t take long for her seek more friction, swiveling faster, rocking harder.
“Jesus. That just . . . oh God. I can feel that right—” She stops talking against my lips. Gripping one shoulder, she pushes back enough so she can see me clearly and I can see her. She grabs my jaw with the other hand, her eyes are wide, shock and desire making them bright. “I can’t—every time, you’re hitting that spot every damn time.”
She makes this noise as she shifts again—if pleasure was a sound, this would be it.
“Are you gonna come?” I ask.
“I-I-I—” She trembles violently.
I grab her hips on the next roll and shift as she grinds down.
“Oh, fuck,” she groans. “Do that again.”
“Do this?” I lift her up a couple of inches and drop her back down.
“Again,” she orders.
I’m all about pleasing her, so I comply.
Her mouth is less than an inch from mine. “Harder.”
I grip her hips, feel the tension in her body, the way she’s fighting against me. “Harder?”
“Fuck me like you’re supposed to,” she grits through clamped teeth, her frustration obvious, but it’s more than that. She’s so close to coming.
I stop holding her back. Instead, I help pull her down as I lift my hips.
Her eyes go wide. “Yessss.”
“Again?” I ask.
“Just like that.”
And so I do. And she comes. Violently. Her nails dig in, cutting my skin. She has absolutely no control over her body, so I keep pumping while she shakes and chants oh God, oh God, oh God. She’s gorgeous when she’s falling apart.
I grab her chin. “Look at me.”
She struggles to open her eyes, but eventually she manages to lift her lids and meet my gaze.
“Who’s fucking you?”
She shudders. “You are.”
“Who made you come?”
She blinks, slow and hazy. “You did.”
“Wanna come again?”
Her eyes go wide again. “Oh God.”
I grab her ass and flip her over so I’m on top. “He’s not gonna save you from me, baby.” And I make her come again. So hard she bites my shoulder to muffle her scream. I’m close, but I want to see if I can get one more orgasm out of her. I slow it down, grinding against her. Amalie’s hands are in my hair, and then her nails rake down my back and dig into my ass.
“I’m gonna come soon,” I tell her. “You getting close again?”
“I don’t know if I can have another one.”
“You sure as hell can.” I hook my arm under her knee and draw it up, getting another sweet groan out of her when I roll my hips. I keep up the rhythm, slow and steady, watching her face. Her head is thrown back, lips parted, eyes closed tight. With my mouth beside her ear, I whisper, “I can feel you squeezing my cock, you better make it happen soon, baby, ’cause I don’t think I can hold out much longer.”
“Don’t stop doing what you’re doing,” she pleads.
“Want it harder?”
She nods.
“What about faster?”
“Please.”
I slide my fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck and tilt her head down, holding it still as I give her what she wants. I’d say I have about six more thrusts before I’m done for, but with the way she’s started shaking again, and the whimpering moans I’m getting, she’s about to come anyway. I make it to thrust five before the orgasm kicks me in the spine.
I crush my mouth to Amalie’s, swallowing her scream, because she’s coming, too. It’s not a very coordinated kiss. It’s messy and teeth-clashing. It’s want and need. It’s possession. Hers and mine.
Twelve: After the Orgasms
Amie
Well, that just happened.
Lex is still kissing me. It’s slower now, soft, the frantic need having dissipated. I wait for guilt or regret to set in. Something to ruin the peacefulness of the moment, something to break the orgasmic bliss bubble I’m floating around in. But all I feel is the heavenly weightlessness that follows amazing sex.
Once in college I dated a guy for a few weeks who was amazing at sex. And by dated, I mean that we went out a few times and eventually got our fuck on. It wasn’t serious. I knew it never would be. By the time I hit college most of my relationships were casual dates, and if they moved into feelings territory I typically ended it. I never wanted to be my mother, always waiting for my dad to come back from a business trip only to fall apart and run away from him when he returned. It was a punishment for everyone, especially me.
But this man-boy of mine at the time was so, so pretty. And built. But under all the pretty was . . . nothing. No personality. No conversation skills. Just a beautiful outside and an empty inside, like opening a book with a fabulous cover to find the pages bereft of words. Blank page after blank page. It was such a disappointment. The only reason it lasted as long as it did was because he could screw like it was his profession. Actually, it probably should’ve been his job. He knew exactly how to move and every single time we had sex I came. It was amazing.
Except he only had one position. He was a one-trick pony. Any other position but missionary and the orgasm magic died. So no matter how pretty he was, I couldn’t continue to see him and his one-position magic man handle.
But Lex.
Lex.
He sets the bar so high I’m not sure anyone else can or will ever come close to what I just experienced.
I came three times. During sex. That’s like being told unicorns are real. And then actually seeing one.
My stomach rumbles, breaking the silence—well, silent apart from our heavy breathing and my barely audible residual moans every time I have an unexpected, but not unwelcome muscle clench below the waist.
Lex’s lips turn up against mine. The muscles in his shoulders pull tight and his chest flexes as he braces himself on his forearms. He’s sweaty, I’m sweaty, we’re both glistening from the exertion. I glance down, checking out his abs as they ripple. His body is unreal. He should never wear clothes again. Ever.
“Hungry?” He’s grinning.
“That was my vagina asking for more orgasms. We need to know how long it’s going to be before ‘Oh God’ can provide more of those.”
He laughs, then dips down to kiss my chin. “How about I order some food first and we can follow it with more orgasms?”
I purse my lips and consider the offer. I am hungry. “I suppose that would work.”
Lex lifts his hips and I raise mine, keeping the connection for another second or two before he eases out and removes the condom, tying it off and disposing of it. His gaze drops between my legs, which are spread shamelessly wide. He sucks in breath, tongue dragging over his bottom lip.
“On second thought . . .” He smoothes his hands down the inside of my thighs and presses a kiss to my knee.
I close my legs reflexively. “Are you sure you want to—” I don’t finish the sentence. Armstrong would never, ever even consider going to taco town unless I was fresh from the shower.
He pauses, eyes lifting. “Am I sure I want to eat your pussy? Fuck yes, is the answer to that, Amie. I’ve been thinking about it since the other night when you were mostly naked and under me. Unless you’re opposed to my eating you.”
Well then. I lift my hips encouragingly. “I’m definitely not opposed.”
“I didn’t think you would be.” He bites his way down the inside of my thigh, stopping to suck the skin a few times until it blushes a deep pink that might not fade by morning. Not that I care.
I don’t dare look away as those full lips reach the juncture of my thigh and then he brushes them gently over my swollen clit. I moan.
His eyes meet mine as his tongue flicks out, sweeping over the sensitive skin. I buck and grab the comforter, needing some kind of anchor.
I have a feeling this man is going to be just as good with his tongue as he is with his cock.
And I’m 100 percent accurate about that. Lex alternates slow, leisurely strokes with sucking, and as soon as I think I’m on the verge of coming, he changes it up, pulls me away from the edge, only to bring me back again, higher and higher each time. When I try to lift my hips his grip on me tightens, and then his fingers—oh God—hit the right spot from inside while he tongues me. I’m so close.
This time I grab onto his hair to keep him where he is. “Make me come,” I order.
He’s stronger than me, by a lot. So it takes less effort than I’d like for him to force his head up while I continue to push down. When it’s clear I’m not going to succeed, I try lifting my hips, but he bars his tattooed arm across my stomach, keeping me pinned. As pretty as it is, I’m far too preoccupied to admire it the way I’d like to.
His smile is sinister. “What was that?”
“I’m so close.” Oh my God, I’m whining. But really, I was right there, my clit practically singing. He must be able to feel it, the way everything is tightening; a coiled spring pulled taut and ready to snap.
The fingers inside me withdraw.
I clench in an attempt to keep them where they are. “No!”
Lex’s chuckle is heavy. “Maybe you should ask nicely.”
I don’t think twice. Not when I’m right on the edge like this. Not when, for the first time in what feels like forever, I’m not responsible for my own goddamn orgasms. Not when I’m having the best sex of my life. “Please, Lex.”
That gets me one finger, which isn’t nearly enough.
“Please what?” His smirk is so infuriating.
I’m totally getting him back for this later. “Please make me come.”
I get a second finger and then a curl.
“Please. Oh God.”
He drops his head, his breath warm against my aching clit. Another finger.
“Fuck, Lex.”
I’m rewarded with the feel of his tongue, followed by teeth and the finger flutter and lastly, mind-bending suction. I come in waves, sensation rolls through me, Lex’s name a scream I can’t control, along with a slew of uncensored profanity. And the orgasm doesn’t stop, it keeps going, stealing my breath, cutting out sound, my vision going white with the intensity.
The Shacking Up Series Page 44
