by Elle Casey
“You can have that drawer if you want,” I say. “You can have the whole thing as far as I’m concerned.” I’d put my stuff in boxes if it would make her happy and want to stay.
She laughs. “I have four articles of clothing. I’m not sure I need eight drawers.”
I walk over and pull the top one out, scooping up the socks from inside and dumping them on top of the furniture. “Start here and we’ll work down from there.” I shove the socks in with some undershirts.
She turns her bag upside down and we both watch as a few things fall out. They take up a very small portion of the space.
I can feel the heat building between us as we stand here and pretend we’re innocently unpacking her things, not thinking about being in a bedroom together, both of us nervous and full of pent-up sexual energy. The gentleman in me tries to ignore it. The stronger part of me leans in closer.
She turns and we’re just inches apart, her face just below mine.
“You’re standing really close,” she says in a soft voice.
“If it bothers you I’ll stop,” I say, just as quietly. I don’t move, waiting for her response. I’ll do anything she wants. I’m not going to force myself on her, but if she doesn’t tell me no, it is so on right now.
Instead of moving away, she places a hand flat on my chest. “I thought you were regretting your decision to have me over. Now you’re … doing something else. I’m a little confused.”
I stroke her upper arms softly, trying to rub away the pain I obviously caused. “I’m sorry for the confusion. I know it’s my fault. You were right when you said I’m not a spontaneous person. My whole life has been planned out either by my parents or by me, practically since the day I was born. I’m not used to flying by the seat of my pants, but this time I think it’s the right idea.”
“You think.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t know, though.”
“Is there any way to know anything for sure until it’s over and done?”
“Maybe.” She shrugs. “When will this be over and done? When will you know if you made the right decision?”
I slide my arms down so my hands can rest against her lower back, pulling her slowly against me. “I’m not sure when it will end, but we’ll never get to that point if we never start, right?”
She nods wordlessly.
“It seems like most of our time together has been about hiding that ring or sneaking past one another.”
“We shopped for Cassie. That wasn’t sneaking.”
“No, you’re right. And that’s when I knew that being with you could be fun and happy and … I don’t know … worth exploring.”
“I felt that too.” She smiles for the first time, giving me hope that I’m on the right track.
“What I’d like to do, if you’re into it, is move forward with the idea that you’re going to live here and that you’re going to work with me too. That our lives are going to become one life, lived together. Then we can see if it could work.”
“But we hardly know each other. And you’re not a spontaneous person, you said so yourself.”
“I wasn’t before I met you. I’ve stepped outside my box for the first time in my life, and I have to be honest … it feels good.” I smile so she can see how serious I am. I’m feeling vulnerable, but at the same time, it seems right to be that way with her now. I can’t keep hiding behind the mask I’ve used to get where I am today — alone and lost.
She wiggles in a little closer. “This feels good. I agree with that.”
“But you don’t agree with the rest of it?” Just the idea causes an echo of pain to bounce around inside me.
“I’m not sure. I don’t know if two people who are so different can be compatable like that. Is it even possible?”
I shrug. “Let’s find out. What have we got to lose?”
She looks off to the side, frowning. “Well, I guess I have nothing to lose. I don’t really have a place to live anyway. My job didn’t pay much. And you said I could work part time for you, so I won’t be losing my old job.” She turns her gaze back to me. “I guess I have nothing to lose, but what about you?”
“Nothing.” I don’t even have to think twice about it. “I have nothing to lose and everything to gain by trying, so I want to try.”
A sneaky smile plays on her lips. “And by trying you mean …”
I grind my hips into hers a little so she can feel my meaning. “I think we might be more compatible than you think.”
“Oh yeah?” She presses her breasts into my chest. “How so?”
Reaching lower, I grab her ass and squeeze, using the pressure as leverage to grind into her some more. “Let me show you.”
“Okay,” she whispers, her eyes closing.
Leaning down, I press my lips to hers. They’re soft and wet, sweet tasting, like she just ate a cube of sugar. I moan with anticipation, knowing that holding out with her is going to be some kind of singular torture.
Her fingers come up and play at the back of my neck, tickling my hair. I slide my hands up her back and hold her tight against me. Every inch of her is laid against me. I want to bury myself in her, smother her with my arousal, feel her squirm and cry out in ecstasy beneath me.
“Are you sure?” she asks me between kisses, whispering against my mouth.
“I’ll go slow,” I say, sensing her fear, her inability to process everything happening so fast. “I want to make you feel so good right now.” This is a new challenge for me, to win a woman’s heart and convince her to stay purely by using my skills in the bedroom. With other women, I’d hope for a quick screw and then an empty bed after, but if she leaves when we’re done, I don’t think I’ll do very well with it. Just the idea makes me feel like I’m living in a hollow world with an empty husk for a heart.
“I already feel pretty darn good,” she says, giggling.
I separate from her just far enough to reach between us. Her blouse has four buttons that I plan to take care of one at a time, carefully, slowly.
After taking one apart, I lean down, pulling the edges of her shirt open to kiss the exposed skin. Her chest heaves with each deep breath. My lips press into the topmost swell of her soft breasts, first the left and then the right. She tips her head back to make it easier for me.
The second and third buttons come undone in quick succession. I kiss her stomach and lick the skin, moving so that I can feel her breast resting above on my cheek.
When my beard stubble scrapes her skin she gasps and then moans. “That tickles,” she whispers.
I take the top edge of her lacy bra with the tip of my finger and pull it down, exposing her right nipple. Sucking it, I bring it to a hard peak and then flick it with my tongue.
“Oh my god,” she says, sounding distressed, surprised.
I know I’m on the right track now. As long as I don’t rush it, I can’t lose. Her body is reacting to my ministrations perfectly. I’ve never been with a woman who seems so responsive and innocent at the same time. The contrast is intoxicating.
The last button has my mouth near her waist. I slowly peel the shirt down from her shoulders and I lower myself to my knees. Looking up, I see her gazing down at me with heavy-lidded eyes. I put my hands on her hips and pull her to me, stopping only when my lips are at the edge of her skirt.
“What are you going to do?” she asks, still whispering. I don’t think her voice is capable of more right now. I know mine isn’t.
“I’m just going to kiss you,” I say, sliding my fingers around to the front and pulling the edge of her skirt down just a little.
I love the way her skin smells, as though she might have put some perfumed lotion on hours and hours ago, but its scent has been replaced by something uniquely Leah. The scent of a very special woman. It’s a drug I want to overdose on. I inhale deeply as I close my eyes and kiss all along the edge of the material.
My finger goes down inside, to the top edge of her panties. She buries her fingers in m
y hair, massaging in time with my kisses.
With two hands, I pull the elastic waist of her skirt down until it rests just above her pubic bone. She begins to shake, either with fear or anticipation, I can’t tell. Instead of moving on, I wrap my arms around her thighs and look up.
“Too fast?”
She shakes her head. “Too slow.” Her voice quavers. “I’m about to pass out with the waiting.”
I can’t stop the grin from taking over my face. “Then everything is going exactly according to plan.”
She smiles too and pulls my hair in two small fists. “You’re evil.”
Her words feel like a compliment, and the pain from her hair-pulling lights a fire in me. The room goes very dark as I picture four silk ties I have hanging in my closet tying her to my bed. I think it might be time for a little slow torture … the sexy kind.
“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” I say, yanking her skirt to the floor.
Chapter Seventy-Five
THINGS STARTED OUT HOT ENOUGH, but now that I’m lying on his bed with neckties binding my wrists to the headboard, I’m about to burst into flames. James looks positively demonic the way he’s staring at me as he stands at the foot of the bed. I’m afraid I’m in way over my head with this man. It makes me tremble to think about it. It’s a good kind of trembling, though. Really good.
“What are you going to do?” I ask in a breathless voice.
He pulls his shirt over his head, revealing muscles I had forgotten he possesses. Yum. I think I have a new craving.
“I’m going to make you feel good. I’m going to make you beg.”
I squirm just hearing the words. I’m already there with the begging thing. If he stops what he’s doing I’m going to scream.
His hands move to his belt. I expect him to take his pants off, but he doesn’t. Just the belt falls to the floor. His pants sag a little at his waist now, held up only by the muscles that move to a V as they go down into the front of his pants.
Me being mostly naked, save for my panties and bra, and him still half dressed, is making me way hotter than it probably should. It’s like he knows better than I do how my body will react to every little thing he does. He’s playing me big time and I really like this tune.
He moves slowly over to the side of the bed, reaching out for my leg. First he strokes it, from ankle to hip. Then he puts his hand behind my knee and lifts. My leg is moved to a bent position.
He moves to the other side of the bed and repeats his actions with my other leg before going back to the foot of the bed. His hands go to the mattress and he begins to crawl up towards me, never breaking eye contact.
I’m having a hard time breathing. This is a very vulnerable position to be in. Seeing him there as I look between my legs makes me both afraid and thrilled. What will he do next? Will he put his mouth there?
When his face is between my legs, he leans down to kiss my kneecap. Who knew it was such a sensitive spot? I gasp with surprise. He smiles.
His kisses move down steadily towards my panties. I have goosebumps breaking out all over, but not because I’m cold. No, actually, I’m on fire right now and he’s barely touched me. My panties grow damp. I am such a mess.
Just when I think he’s going to press his lips to my center, he skips over to my other leg, placing kisses from my thigh up to my opposite knee. When he reaches the top, his hands come up and stroke the outside of both legs. Then they move to the inside of my thighs.
His thumbs begin to stroke the inside edge of my panties. They just barely slide under the material. I gasp again because he’s touching me there, the place I normally don’t let a guy get near until we’ve been together for a while, and I love it. I hardly know James! And yet, here he is, touching me, making me want to beg, just like he promised. Or warned. I think it might have been a warning. Man, he’s good.
His thumbs slide up and then back a few times before he withdraws and moves his hands to the top of my panties.
“What are you going to do?” I ask again. It’s pretty much the only phrase I’m capable of. Broken record. Brain not working. Help.
“I’m taking these off,” he says, pulling my panties down, off one leg and then the other. They go sailing over his shoulder to the floor.
And then his face is just there. Instantly. Like he’s diving into me, buried between my legs.
“Oh my god!” I yell out. Not in pain. Not at all in pain. It’s like he’s shocked me with a taser, but it’s just his mouth there.
I’m so ready for him. God, I can’t stand this. It feels too good to be real.
His tongue comes out and licks me as his lips make contact with everything. Up and down, around and around, his face moves against me, burning me up.
My hips buck up to meet him, out of control. I’m making all kinds of moaning and gasping sounds. Who knows where those are coming from. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is I’ve been nearly naked for all of five minutes and I’m already at the point of orgasm.
“Wait! Wait!” I gasp. “It’s too soon! Too fast!”
I close my eyes, trying to control myself. Sounds of a zipper come to my ears and then when I can see again, he’s over me.
I want to wrap my arms around his big body as it descends, but I can’t. I’m trapped.
“Undo me,” I say, my tone desperate.
“No.” His weight is on me and I can feel his hard length pushing at my entrance.
I yank on my arms, trying to free them, but it doesn’t work. His hand is roaming up my ribcage, grabbing my breast, squeezing, pinching the nipple through my bra. I’m still wearing a bra! God, I want it off of me!
I yell in surprise, ecstasy, and rage. How dare me make me feel this much. How dare he take me over so completely!
“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop,” he growls, “but I’m not untying you. Tonight you surrender to me completely.”
“I don’t want to surrender like that.”
It’s a lie and we both know it. I open my legs wider and arch my back.
He leans off to the side, slowing his hand. “Are you sure? Because I can stop right now if you want.”
I glare at him. He’s hot, just like I am, but he has more control. I both love and hate him for that. “You bastard.”
He grins. Totally evil-like. “Are you ready?” He’s back on top of me now. His weight feels like more than just a man’s body. This is destiny here, preparing to take me over completely. My free will is gone and it’s because I’m letting it be taken. I should be afraid, but I’m not. I’m excited. Thrilled, even.
“Ready for what?” I squirm in anticipation. I’m pretty much panting at this point. Like a dog. In heat. It’s not pretty.
“For this.” He reaches down between us and puts his rod gently into my folds. Just the slightest pressure and he’s entering my heat.
I nod. It’s all I’m capable of.
As he slides in, stretching me so beautifully, I yell. I yell to bring the walls down. And he shouts too. I don’t think he does this often. He sounds savage. Untethered.
Something magical is happening between us. I’ve never done anything like this before, felt something like this before. I start to cry uncontrollably, but I’m not sad. I’m happier than I’ve ever been.
He pushes all the way in and then pulls out halfway before plunging once more. His speed slowly increases. I meet his thrusts with my own. My back muscles strain as I try to push myself against him, bring him deeper, closer to my center. We should probably go slow and savor the moment, but I can’t. I’m desperate to take this path with him, wherever it may lead.
“You feel so damn good,” he says into my neck, his whole body straining to control his thrusts.
“Oh my god, I’m so close,” I whisper, my voice sounding desperate. I am desperate. I’m stuck in a whirlwind of passion. I’ve forgotten where I am, what I planned to do, where I plan to be a minute, an hour, a week or month from now. I’m drowning in whatever it is he’s cooking and I just wan
t to die from it.
“I’m going to come, dammit,” he growls.
“Me too! Me too! Don’t stop!” One of my hands breaks free from its binding and I grab onto his back, holding on for dear life.
He yells when I scratch him. I didn’t do it on purpose, I’m just trying to survive at this point.
Every thrust brings a grunt from deep in his gut now. I’m moaning, he’s yelling, probably the entire building is getting a free show, but I don’t care. I’m exploding from the inside and the fireworks are amazing. My tears turn to laughter. I probably sound a little unbalanced, but I don’t care. I’m living totally in the moment.
He digs his arm under my shoulders and pulls me up to his chest as he spends his last bit of energy finding fruition. I feel cherished, desired, and then, fulfilled, as the feelings overcome my good sense and send me reeling. My heartbeat is pounding in my ears and I can hardly breathe. Nothing has ever felt so good in my entire life. I grab a handful of his hair and hang on for dear life.
My body doesn’t stop pulsing for the longest time. His muscles go slack and he falls into me before I finish spasming all over. Together we press the mattress down and our sweat mingles. I can feel a puddle of it building on my stomach. Our bellies slide together as he moves on top of me.
“Oh my god,” he groans.
I can’t breathe enough to respond. Part of it is the post-orgasm shock and part of it is his nearly two hundred pounds of solid muscle.
“Sorry. I’m crushing you.” He rolls off, pulling out at the same time.
I reach over with my one free hand, trying to get him to come back to me. I only manage to pat his face a little before he takes my fingers and starts kissing them. I can’t stop smiling.
“That was … amazing,” he says, still out of breath.
“Yeah. Not bad,” I say, grinning like a fool, trying to pretend I’m not dying for air. My heart is racing out of control. I could train for marathons in this guy’s bed.
