by Jenna Reed
She wants this, but why now? Why not years ago?
“I don’t do relationships, Bailey.” I hate how weak I sound, but more than that, I hate the words I have to speak, because even with Bailey, I can’t commit. I can’t. I hope that one day I can get over my fears, but right now I’m not ready to. Relationships are hard for me, for a number of reasons, the biggest reason being my non-existent mother, the fact that she left me without so much as a fucking care. It left a bad taste in my mouth, apparently one that’s lasted all these years. And even though I know that’s what Bailey deserves, I want her to know exactly what she’s getting into when it comes to me. I can’t give her anything more than an orgasm or three.
“I know.” She rolls her hips and I swear my eyes roll to the back of my head. “And I don’t care. I want you. Just for tonight. It’ll be my birthday present. Make me feel good, Elijah,” she begs, and I release her hair, taking her heart-shaped face into my hands.
“Are you sure?” I whisper against her lips, feeling her heated breath against my skin. She smells like strawberries, and taste like vodka, but she’s everything I could ever fucking want. Everything I’ll ever need, and the last fucking thing I deserve. She should be cherished, taken by a man that can commit to her, and unfortunately that man isn’t me.
She nods her head a little and then grabs one of my hands, bringing it between her legs. Shit. Pressing my hand between her thighs, my fingers ghost over her pussy, covered with a mere scrap of fabric. I swear my blood pressure spikes right then. Jesus. Of all the things I’ve touched in my life, nothing could be as heavenly as this. Nothing.
“Touch me, please,” she whispers, and when I peer into her eyes, I see nothing but want and primal need. I grit my teeth, because I know what I’m going to do, because no matter how much my brain is telling me no, she wants this, she wants me, and I want her too. Even if it’s only for tonight, I’ll give her the best memory of us that I can.
Consequences be damned, I had to have her. At least once.
3
Bailey
I wonder if he can feel my fingers trembling. If my inexperience is noticeable? I hope not. He’ll probably stop if he notices, and I can’t imagine him stopping, not without me losing my damn mind, not to mention how embarrassed I would be. I don’t know what I would do, probably run out of here and never show my face to him again. Swallowing down the nervousness coating my insides, I lean into his face and press my lips against his again.
I know the moment he decides to give in to me because the look in his eyes changes. It’s almost like he lifts a mask from his face and shows himself to me, the real him, the man he is in the bedroom, a part of him I’ve never had the chance to see, until now.
The blue of his eyes darkens, giving away to arousal that flickers deep inside those depths. His nostrils flare, and his jaw tightens. And somehow my core clenches with even more need. He looks like a sex god who’s about to devour me whole, and I’ll be damned if I don’t let him. Gentle fingers skim the apex of my thigh and I shiver at his touch. I’m dripping with need, so much so it’s almost embarrassing how badly I want him.
“You’re drenched, Bailey,” he murmurs, swallowing thickly. It’s almost like he’s nervous, and I smile a little at the thought of him being worried about screwing this up. He has no idea. My thoughts vanish when he plucks the thin scrap of material over my pussy, and pulls it back, releasing it so it slaps against my already swollen clit. Shock at his action registers first, and then pleasure overtakes the shock. He does it again, his eyes on my face as if he’s trying to gauge my reaction to him. He looks rugged, like a man barely resisting the temptation placed before him.
The sting of my thong against my pulsing clit causes me to moan and I grip onto his shoulders needing something to hold on to in that moment. Then as if a switch flipped somewhere inside him, his fingers move. I can feel the heat of his touch, and he has yet to touch me, to caress that sweet bundle of nerves. Needing and wanting his touch sends me into a craze and I choose then to grind myself down on his hand.
I feel the growl he emits deep down in my bones. His fingers spread my folds, and his thumb finds my diamond hard clit. I’m already wet, soaked, and the sound of his fingers moving through my flesh fills my ears, that along with our heavy breathing. I’ve never felt so much pleasure, so much need. He works me over, like he knows what he’s doing, and probably because he does.
“Fuck my fingers, Sunflower,” he commands and leans forward, his lips nipping mine. He hasn’t called me Sunflower in years, not since grade school. I try and focus on the thought, but I can’t. Not when his fingers start to move and certainly not when he enters me with one thick digit.
My pussy tightens around his finger, the intrusion causing a sting of pain that disappears as soon as he starts to pump into me with shallow thrusts.
“Oh god…” I moan, uncaring to anything else but the pleasure burning through my veins. The damn world could be crumbling around us and I wouldn’t care. There is nothing that could ruin this moment between us. At my moan, he adds a second finger, stretching me, preparing me for what’s to come.
“Jesus fuck, Bailey. You’re tight as hell.” The groan that emits from his mouth makes me smile. “I can’t wait to get inside you. To feel you squeeze my cock like you’re squeezing my fingers. You want that, don’t you? My cock inside you? Pumping in and out of you?”
His dirty mouth is right at my ear, caressing the heated skin there, bringing me closer and closer to the finish line all while his magic fingers rub at a spot deep inside me that feels like heaven. I’ve touched myself before, many, many times, but nothing compares to the scorching fire blazing through my belly.
“Come for me, Sunflower, gush that pretty pink pussy all over my fingers,” he whispers, sucking at the flesh right over my throbbing pulse. The sensation is too much, his fingers, his lips, the built up want and need for him.
It all pushes me over the edge, and into deep dark waters. His fingers move deeper and my womb quivers, an orgasm of epic proportions slamming into me. I feel nothing and everything in an instant. My chest heaves, the air in my lungs stilling, while my pussy clenches around Elijah’s fingers. I sag against his chest, letting the weightless feeling ripple through me.
It takes me a good minute to come to my senses after coming down from the euphoric high. Blinking my eyes open, I take a peek up at Elijah and find him looking down at me with hunger in his eyes, his pupils dilated, and his jaw set in a hard line.
Building up the courage before I lose it, I say, “Take me to your place.”
“I…I don’t think that’s a good idea. I mean… I want to, but…” He stumbles over his words and I know it’s not because he is drunk. He wants this, just as much as I do, which is a little surprising. A part of me expected this to be harder for him to push me away, for me to beg him. Instead, it’s easy, almost as if he really does want this... me.
“Please, only for tonight. No strings attached, one night… that’s all I want, Eli.” I want to make it as clear to him as possible that I know it can never be more for him and that I’m okay with that. I can see the doubt and conflict flicker in his eyes, and I need to do whatever I can to make that look disappear, especially if I want this to work out. He opens his mouth to say something, but I lean forward and press my lips to his before he can speak.
I pour everything into that kiss, all the want and need I’ve had for him over the years. All the emotions he stirs inside me, elation, fear, anxiousness, love. I kiss him like I’m starving for love, like I’m a flower and he is the sun, my only source of food, of growing.
When we finally break the kiss, the doubt in his eyes has evaporated, and a profound longing has taken its place. His hands snake around my middle, down my hips, and to my ass. Fingers dig into my flesh as he grips the two round globes in his hands and scoots us out of the booth.
“If this is really what you want, then let’s go.”
I’ve been to Elijah’s apartme
nt a thousand times before, but never have I felt this anxious, this worried before. What if he decides to say no? What if all of this falls apart and I’ve ruined everything? While doubt circulates through my brain, my whole body seems to be engulfed in flames. My skin is beyond hot, it feels like I have a damn fever. My mouth is dry, and my stomach twists into knots. I never understood the saying I have the hots for this person until right now.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Elijah asks with a twinkle of doubt in his eyes.
“Shut up, and kiss me,” I order breathlessly. He gives me a grin that all but sets my panties on fire. I want him. I want him so badly it damn near hurts.
And as if he can feel my pain, he steps forward, his lips crashing into mine, while his hands grab onto my waist, pulling me into his chest.
My already hardened and over sensitive nipples rub against his muscled chest and I moan into his mouth at the sensations. Even through our clothes, the feeling is so intense. It feels like fire, and ice are colliding inside my body.
My lungs fill with oxygen, but it’s as if I’m not breathing at all. And I realize why there is nothing like kissing Elijah. All those years I had watched him kiss other women and never understood why they were so angry the next morning, or when he never called, I get it now.
He is a perfect male specimen in every single way. The man you want to marry and have your babies with.
My eyes catch on his bedroom door and I realize that we’ve somehow made it to the bedroom while never breaking from our kiss. Walking backward, I let him guide me through the room. We don’t stop until the back of my legs hit the edge of the mattress. Elijah pulls away and presses his forehead against mine. His hot breath fanning against my cheeks. Concern etches deep into his features.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” The soft tone of his voice doesn’t match the intensity of want in his eyes. I cling to him, fisting the material of his shirt in my hands. Panic rising up inside me, I’m afraid that he might end this, whatever it is, before it can have a chance to get started.
Lowering my lashes, I look up at him. “Please. I’ve never been more sure of something in my entire life.”
His gaze softens a smidge, and then he reaches around and finds the zipper on my dress. With the flick of his wrist, he unzips me. There’s an urgency in the way he pulls at my dress, halfway tearing it off of me as if the material is separating him from his next meal or something. That same urgency consumes me and as the cool air hits my skin, I start to grip at his clothes, pulling at his shirt and dress slacks.
The buttons on his shirt are too small and will take far too long to get through the small openings so with an impatient whine, I pull on the fabric until the stupid buttons pop off, scattering across the room, and landing on the hardwood floor with a ping.
I shove the shirt off his shoulders, and it falls to the ground, landing in a pool at his feet. Our eyes meet for a brief second, fire burning as hot as the sun in his eyes. Licking my lips, I drop my gaze to his bare chest. From there, my gaze moves over his well-defined pecs, down over his washboard abs, following the V that leads down to the valley of sin.
My mouth feels as if it’s been shoved full of cotton. Jesus, his muscles look like they’re chiseled from stone. A man shouldn’t be allowed to look this good. But again, this isn’t just any man. This is Elijah Westbrook. Playboy, complicated as hell, afraid of commitment, but above all else, my best friend, and tonight the man that’s going to take my virginity. He isn’t just anyone in my mind, he is everything.
Tracing a hand down his chest, I relish in the heat of his skin against my palm. He’s fire and I’m ice, melting beneath his touch. Never in a million years did I think we would find ourselves here. Me standing in front of him in nothing but my lace underwear, my fingers touching his bare upper body. I’ve imagined this moment in my head a thousand times over, but nothing could have prepared me for the real deal.
An electric current courses between us. It pops and sizzles, threatening to zap both of us into oblivion. I’ve never felt such a feeling before. My core pulsing, pleading. He pulls me into his chest, bringing his hand to my shoulder, his fingers are feather-light against my collarbone. And still the skin underneath his touch is scorching. The touch he leaves on my skin is one I’ll never be able to scrub from my body. Every nerve ending zings, standing on end as he ghosts his fingers across my shoulders and down my arms.
I reach back and unclasp my bra, letting it fall down to meet the rest of our clothing on the floor. Elijah’s gaze swings down to my bare breasts as soon as they are freed, his hand following suit.
His hands are huge, and his dark skin against my creamy white skin is yet another stark reality of how different we are. Our gazes meet for a fraction of a second, and then he starts to knead my breasts, dragging his thumb over my pebbled nipple, drawing little moans out of me. My stomach twists and turns, and it feels like I’m riding a roller coaster waiting for the next turn, the drop that’s to come.
“Lie back,” he orders, pressing against my shoulders. Without hesitation, I do as he asks and scoot back onto the bed. The sheets are silky beneath my hands, and I move against them easily as I situate myself.
Nibbling on my bottom lip, I watch curiously as he steps out of his pants. He stalks forward and crawls over me, caging my body below his. His muscles flex with the movement and saliva forms in my mouth as if I’m smelling my favorite dessert after not eating all day. I grab onto his biceps, a thought popping into my head… how many other women have been in this bed? Laying right where I am right now?
The idea of him being with anyone else sickens me, even though in my mind, I know he’s been with a shit ton of women. With his body looming over mine, the thoughts vanish from my mind. His breath fans against my bare breast and I suck in a sharp breath when his mouth descends on one of my pebbled peaks. He closes his lips over it, and nips at the tip a few times, before sucking on it to soothe the bite of pain he left behind.
“Elijah,” I sigh, my chest heaving, my body needing more than just his lips and hands. As if he knows the spell he holds on me, he smirks against my skin. I arch my back, pushing my boobs into his face. I want him to ravish me, take from me until there is nothing left to take. With his other hand, he continues to knead my flesh, rolling my other nipple between two fingers.
My hands as if they know what to do, move through the silky strands of his hair, over his shoulders, down his back, and up and down his chest. Wherever I can touch him, my hands scour. In my mind, I’m mapping out his body, saving the image for a later date. He flicks his tongue against the hardened bud and my body tenses. Am I seriously going to orgasm from a little light petting?
He releases one nipple with a pop and moves to the other side, sending another lightning bolt of pleasure through my core. God, if this is what it feels like just to have him suck on my nipples, what is it going to feel like when he is inside me, moving in and out, thrusting in a place no man has before?
As if he can hear my silent question, he releases my breast and continues moving up my body, peppering kisses over my chest and collarbone until he makes it to the crook of my neck.
“I’m going to fuck you Sunflower... long and deep. Imprint myself on your soul so you remember this night for as long as we both live. You might not be mine, but you’ll wish you were after tonight.”
Like a stab to the chest, I find it hard to breathe after hearing the words he just said. My thoughts swirl and my body shivers as he trails his fingers back over my flesh, stopping once he reaches the top of my panties. He gazes up at me, a silent question on his lips. I nod and watch as his eyes turn to molten lava.
Gripping the edge of my panties, he pulls them down my legs. My cheeks heat with embarrassment and I have to stop myself from covering up from his heated gaze. With a gentle hand, he pushes my legs apart and drops down to his knees in front of me.
“W-What are you doing?” I stutter. My eyes widen and I push up onto my elbows just as
he slips a finger between my folds, finding my little jewel of pleasure.
“Feasting, of course.” He pauses, gazing up at me over my mound. “You can’t tell me a man has never dropped to his knees and ate out this pretty little pussy.”
I shake my head, my response lodged deep inside my throat.
A panty-melting grin graces his lips. “Well, prepare to be devoured, Sunflower, because I’m not stopping until your knees are shaking and your juices coat my chin.”
Next thing I know, he drags his tongue over my folds, grazing my clit as he goes. I scoot my butt up out of reflex, but he grabs onto my thighs so he can keep me in place.
In my mind, I feel horrified at the thought of him tasting my pussy, but at the same time, I’m curious. The rough pads of his hands dig into my ass as he lifts me off the mattress, bringing my bottom to his mouth as if I’m a fine glass of wine that he must savor.
Something inside me awakens at the first swipe of his rough tongue over my folds. He teases at first, sampling but never fully tasting. Up and down, he licks me like an ice cream cone. Then he dips inside my tight hole, in, and out, in and out, he traces the hole. Continuing to watch, I bite my lip to stifle the moans threatening to escape me.
My insides knot as he traces my folds and flicks my bean, bringing two fingers to my drenched entrance at the same time. The sensations are unlike anything I’ve felt before and I fall back against the mattress, fisting the sheets in my hands, while he devours me, body, mind, and soul. Tension coils deep inside my belly, twisting and turning, his fingers sink deep inside me, rubbing at the tender tissue, and I can’t stop myself any longer.
