What could I say? It wasn’t like I planned on going out today, so why wear an extra layer when you could go commando? The same could be said of my bra, I knew, but those damned nipples of mine had a habit of doing their own thing, so I kept them smothered when I could.
I lay on the couch, utterly naked beneath Ace, who still had his blasted pants on. It took every ounce of strength in me to not ogle his pressing erection, to instead meet his hazy, clouded blue eyes.
“You are beautiful,” Ace whispered, his voice already husky and ragged. I wondered how he’d sound once he was inside of me, lost in pleasure. He brought his lips to my neck again, kissing it once, but instead of showering the crook of my neck with kisses, he trailed his lips down. Over my collarbone, down to my chest.
When he took a nipple into his mouth, I moaned and had to close my eyes, focusing on the sensation of his hot, wet tongue flicking across and around my nipple, his teeth ever-so-gently grazing against its pebbled form. Jolts of heated pleasure seared through me, and I swore to myself I’d never felt anything better in my entire life. This was pure heaven.
Or that’s what I thought, until his mouth left my nipple and continued to head downward, until he used his hands to spread my legs and brought that wonderful, masterful tongue to the most sensitive, most intimate part of me. The moment his tongue slithered from his mouth and ran along those pink folds, running a slow, achingly long circle around my clit, I knew I was in for a ride.
Not all men were good at head, but when they were, you damn well better do your best to keep them. There was nothing better than an orgasm given by a mouth and a greedy, eager tongue.
I reached down, weaving my fingers through his blonde hair, as if I was afraid he’d remove his face from my pussy far too soon. No, I’d keep his head down there until he needed to come up for air, and then I’d send him back down into the abyss like a good little soldier. He didn’t seem to mind my fingers, for he only worked harder at me.
The man could spell out the entire alphabet down there, and it wouldn’t be enough.
My breathing became labored, and I started to grind my hips slowly against his mouth. Holy moly, this guy was good. My core burned with the intensity of a thousand suns—if that was even a thing, I didn’t know, but it didn’t matter, because soon my body came to life with an orgasm, the pleasure flooding every single nerve in my body, all tingly and warm, making me cry out.
Just when I thought my body would fall apart in his grasp, or his mouth, rather, Ace stunned me by only working harder, running that blasted tongue along me, lapping up everything my body gave him. And then…then he slid a finger inside of me and started to finger-fuck me as he ate me out.
Oh, God.
Who the hell was I was trying to kid? God had nothing to do with this. This was just me and Ace, our bodies finally coming together after so long. This was pleasure that was long overdue, orgasms that I’d never forget.
The next time I came, I came around his finger with the help of his mouth. I could feel my inner walls clenching, and I knew he could, too. My hands slipped from his hair, and I laid there, hardly in my own mind. A girl could get used to orgasms like that. A girl could learn to crave them like the air she breathed if she wasn’t careful.
Ace was slow to lift his mouth and remove his finger from my sex, meeting eyes with me, giving me a slow smile. “You really do make the best sounds, you know.”
Oh, right. Because this wasn’t the first time Ace had heard me come. He’d heard me touch myself in the middle of the night after that dream; he’d probably dreamt of my noises ever since then, not that I could blame him. I should’ve known better, should’ve tried harder to be quiet…and yet, if I had been quiet, would we be here, doing this?
I gave him a look that I hoped was a glare, though I had my doubts, as I said, “Take off your pants or forever hold your peace.” Not sure why I had to go and be weird by saying that, but it was too late to take it back. I had a bad habit of saying things I shouldn’t.
Ace gave me a grin as he reached for his pants, practically whipping them off after his shoes. Once everything was off, once Ace was fully bare, his cock standing straight and ready, I felt myself sigh. He wasn’t as long as his brother, but he was thicker. His member was practically like another arm.
Would I even survive an onslaught like that?
Guess I’ll find out, huh? There was no going back now, no turning back and saying whoopsies. This was going to happen, no matter what. This was going to happen right here on my fucking couch, and I didn’t care if we stained it with our juices.
His chest made its way back down to me, practically smothering me with its scent as he positioned himself. I was so wet we didn’t need any extra lube, so ready for him that I practically begged him to stick it inside of me. Just ram me with your dick already, Ace. Just fuck me like you’ve never fucked anyone before.
I let out a groan when he started to push himself in. Every inch of his that entered me, my body took some time to adjust. By the time his cock was fully submerged, by the time my body held every thick inch of him, I felt like I was going to explode. So much dick. So much dick it was unreal.
Ace sighed against my ear, holding me against his chest as he slowly dragged himself out. “You feel so good, Opal,” he murmured, measured in gliding back in. In, and out. Again and again. I didn’t know how he was able to speak out loud, because I knew if I was to try to speak right now, I’d only sound like a blubbering mess.
My body took his cock greedily, and I panted with every breath, every thrust. I wanted him to destroy me, to push as deep as he could and fill me up. I wanted him to fuck me like there was no tomorrow.
He must’ve sensed what I wanted, for the next time he dragged his thick member from my core, he rammed it in harder, as deep as he could, his balls slapping against my ass. I cried out, digging my nails into his back.
“Yes,” I muttered. “More.” Begging Ace for his cock. Never thought something like that would come to pass, but here we were. I didn’t think any of us could’ve predicted this was where we’d be. This had come as a surprise, but it was a welcome one all the same.
So he gave me more. He gave me so much more I had no sane thoughts. The pressure within me started to build again, and I knew I was about to come yet again, around his cock this time. Ace certainly was skilled; not every man could make a woman come just by sex alone.
A muffled moan escaped me, and I felt my whole body tensing as the pleasure swept through me like a tidal wave, immensely strong and undeniable. My inner core clenched around his cock, and I heard him groan above me, knowing my release had only furthered his. His hard thrusts became softer, slower, and he let my tightening core clench around his length.
I imagined him filling me up even more, and I sighed out another sound as he slipped out, moving to lay with me on the couch. I knew his cum was probably dribbling out of me, knew that I should get up and clean myself off, but when I felt his arm wrap around me, when I felt his lips place a gentle kiss on my shoulder, I knew I couldn’t. Getting up would only ruin the moment.
We’d each shared a part about ourselves to the other, and then we’d fucked like animals. It was nice, not going to lie. If this was my life from now on, I’d be fine with it.
I felt Ace smiling against my ear as he whispered, “Let me know when you’re kicking me out of here to get work done. Until then, I’m staying.”
I laughed, turning my head back to look at him. Even though his lips had been attached to the lower portion of my body, I still leaned in and kissed him. We remained like that for a while, giving our bodies a chance to cool down after that particular lovemaking session. Neither of us wanted to leave the arms of the other, but after a while, I knew I had to get back to work.
Try to, at least.
Hey, at least writing a sex scene should be easy now, right?
Chapter 11
Getting work done while dating three guys at the same time was near impossible. The next da
y I found myself at their place, in Brock’s room to be more specific, sitting in a chair in front of a white wall, posing for the artist himself. Their house wasn’t too messy, which surprised me, although I supposed Brock and Ace could’ve cleaned up this morning knowing Brock was going to drag me over here with the promise of making me the next Mona Lisa.
Granted, I didn’t care so much about being painted as I cared about spending time with Brock. I still felt bad, because after our date I’d slept with Kent and then, not too long after that, Ace. Brock had gotten the short end of the stick, and even though I had deadlines approaching, I knew I couldn’t let him think that he somehow meant less in this relationship than Ace and Kent did.
Kent was at work while Ace was in his room, fiddling with chords. He was still working on the song he wrote about me, and I smiled when I heard his voice drift down the hall and to Brock’s door, even though the door was closed.
Brock stood a few feet in front of me, wearing his typical stained shirt and pants that were a bit ripped. His black hair was messy, and his brown eyes were zeroed in on the easel in front of him. He was sketching me out first, and then he’d go and paint it.
His room was small, but it served its purpose. It held a twin-sized bed, a dresser, a tiny closet, and…that’s about it, really. Besides where we were, nothing else would fit. The walls, save for the one directly behind me, were covered in posters and canvases; they all looked like real art, but not his work. He was an artist supporting other artists, and he said he sold some of his work, too.
“How did you know you wanted to be an artist?” I asked. I wasn’t supposed to move, but he said as long as I didn’t move too much, I could talk.
“How did you know you wanted to be a writer?” Brock responded, giving me a dimpled smile. “I’m sure it’s the same thing. I was always creative growing up, my favorite classes in school were art classes. My parents told me to go to college, major in something that would actually make me money, but I didn’t want to. I moved in with Ace and Kent after that, since they pretty much kicked me out.”
I felt sadness tug at my heart. “I’m so sorry, Brock. That’s terrible.”
He shrugged. “It is what it is. I’ve moved past it.”
“Do you ever talk to them?”
“I think the last time I talked to either one of them was five years ago, on Christmas. We got into a fight over the phone, and that was that.” Brock sounded very matter-of-factly about it, and it hurt, knowing his family had disowned him simply for following his dreams.
My family wasn’t exactly supportive of what I was doing, but at least they never kicked me out over it.
We were quiet as he continued to work. It was only when he was finished sketching that he let me get off the chair and walk around the easel to see. With a light pencil, he’d drawn my head, my hair, my neck and my shoulders. My lips were caught in a smile, and I felt something akin to pride swell in my gut when I saw it.
Brock really was good. It looked realistic, even before it was colored, and it hadn’t even taken him that long to do it.
“Wow,” I muttered, glancing up at him. “You’re good, you know. I think you did the only thing you could, following your calling.” Believe it or not, I wasn’t just saying it to butter him up. I really, truly, honestly believed it. Brock was good.
“Eh, I try my best,” he said, giving me a dimpled smile. “Ace said you let him read some of your book. I have to admit, being the other artist here, I am a little jealous.”
“A little?” I echoed, lifting my eyebrows.
“A lot,” he corrected himself. “I’m a lot jealous…okay, that doesn’t really make sense, but you know what I mean.”
I grinned, moving closer to him as I ran a hand along his shirt. Now that I’d seen him in it often, I kind of liked how messy he looked in his paint-stained clothes. “Is there anything I can do to make you less jealous?”
Brock clearly didn’t understand my suggestion. That, or I wasn’t nearly as sensual and suggestive as I thought I was, because he said, “You could show me your book.” Such an innocent answer, I shouldn’t have expected anything less from him.
“Nah, I have something else in mind for you. Something better,” I told him, leaning against his tall frame. I grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him down to me. Our lips met, and I gave him a slow, unhurried kiss.
When our lips parted, Brock whispered, “I think I like where this is going.”
I released his collar, cocking a single brow as I wondered, he thinks he likes where this is going? He thinks? Oh, he’ll take back that think part once I show him just what I have in mind. That kiss wasn’t it.
Giving him a questioning look, a smug look, I reached for his pants, undoing the button and the zipper all while gazing up at him. I didn’t think he’d stop me, but once the zipper was down, I saw his skin reddening. I did love how easy it was to make this one red. It was adorable, and it only made me want to work harder.
“What…” Brock trailed off when he watched me lower to my knees in front of him. The rest of his words caught in his throat when I tugged down the jeans and his boxers, letting his cock out. It grew harder and harder by the second, and I slowly flicked my gaze away from his cock and up at him.
“Trust me,” I said, moving to grip the base of his cock, “I think you’ll like what I have in mind for you.” His eyes shut and he let out a moan as I held onto him, running my fist along his length, hardening his erection until it was as erect as it would go.
With my hand at the base of his shaft, I leaned forward, my tongue flicking out and running around the tip. Brock moaned again, and I tasted the barest hint of precum. It’d been a long while since I’d given a blowjob, but with these guys, I was feeling frisky more often than I wasn’t. I was certain the skill would come back to me.
And if not, Brock could always guide me.
I opened my mouth, puckering my lips around his tip as I took him in, running my tongue along the underside of his cock.
“Oh…” he muttered. “Wow.”
I decided to take that as an exclamation of approval. I took his cock as deep as he could go in my mouth, and I felt his hips start to buck. Bobbing along his length, I made sure to switch it up every now and then, my speed, the pressure of my mouth around his cock.
Brock’s hips kept moving, and I felt his hand find the back of my head. I let him set the speed, drawing my head back and forth along him, my saliva the lubricant. After a while, he threw his head back, his hips jerking his cock further into my mouth. I knew he was about to come, and I didn’t want him to pull out. I wanted him to erupt in my mouth, I wanted to taste him, to swallow every single drop he could give me.
“I’m about to…” It was all he could get out before he came, and I suppose it would’ve been enough time if I’d wanted to take my mouth off him.
Hot, salty cum spewed into my throat in quick bursts. I took everything he gave, swallowing him, not letting him withdraw his hips and pull out. Once his orgasm was done, I slowly moved my mouth along his cock, making sure every inch of him was clean, giving the tip one final lick before releasing it.
I was slow to stand, my knees a little sore. Aware that he watched me, I gave him a sloppy smile. “Do you need help pulling your pants back up?” I asked, grinning like an idiot.
“Uh, no,” Brock instantly said, bending to do it himself.
Teasing him was fun, I had to admit. He got flustered so easily, I could make popcorn, sit back, and watch him be flustered all freaking day. He was adorable, no joke.
“So it was good?” I asked, needing to press a few more buttons, needing to make him even more flustered and awkward. Evil. I was evil, but it felt so good seeing him squirm.
Brock nodded, running a hand through his hair.
“Still jealous that I let Ace read my book?” I asked. “If you must know, these lips haven’t been around anyone else’s cock but yours.” That did the trick. Brock’s pink skin flared red, and his eyes wid
ened as my words sunk in.
Yep. So far, the only one who’d gotten a blowjob from me was him. It would probably change in the future—it definitely would, who the hell was I trying to kid—but that didn’t matter. Right now there was only Brock and I, and the awkwardness setting in on his handsome face.
“A tiny bit,” he admitted, causing me to give him a look. “What? Reading your book is an intimate thing—”
“And what I just gave you wasn’t intimate?”
“That’s, uh, that’s not what I meant, Opal—”
I grinned, moving closer to him. Wrapping my arms around his stomach, I looked up at him. “I know what you meant,” I said, leaning my face against his chest. “If you want to read my book, you can. Just let me know when. As it stands now, it’s full of sex, just so you know.”
Brock’s arms came around me, protective and loving as he hugged me to his chest. “I think I can handle that.” He thought about it, adding quickly, “Maybe.”
We both laughed. We stood like that for a while, eventually disentangling ourselves as I went to sit on the chair again. Now he’d whip out his paints and bring that painting to life. I just really hoped he didn’t plan on giving that picture to me. Hanging a picture of myself in my own place just didn’t feel right. Felt a teeny bit creepy, you know? Plus, I wasn’t that narcissistic.
Because I had sex on the brain, because my mind was still centered on that blowjob, I found myself asking Brock, “How would you feel going on a date with me?” His dark eyes moved from the canvas. “And the others?”
He was in the process of putting some paint onto his palette, but he had to set that stuff down before he answered, “The others? You mean…you mean like a group date?”
Opal: A Contemporary Reverse Harem Romance (Jewels Cafe Book 4) Page 8
