So Good for Me: Bad Boy Forbidden Love Romance Collection

by Jamie Knight

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “What is it?”

  “The finest ice wine Ontario has to offer.”

  “Is there more?”

  I brought up the open bottle from its hiding place beside the couch, figuring she would want more.

  “My hero.”

  We each had two more glasses, not wanting to overdo it. I certainly knew I could drink a lot more than that without even getting tipsy, and Becky still seemed fine. I subtly ran some tests to make sure she wasn't past the point of no return, mainly after she fell against me, sighing contentedly. My first thought was that she must have been several sheets to the wind.

  We started in on the plate of cheese. Each going for the same wedge of gouda, our hands touching on the way. Our eyes met, and everything suddenly became clear. Like a fog had been lifted.

  Becky pounced, jumping up onto my lap, so she was straddling me, slowly grinding her crotch against the bulge in my pants. I slipped my hand into the front of her shorts and gently massaged her pussy. Becky threw her head back with pleasure, biting her bottom lip to keep from crying out.

  In one smooth motion, she took off her tank top, unveiling her glorious tits. As though I needed any more encouragement, Becky leaned in slightly and stroked the back of my head with both hands as I lovingly sucked on her bright pink nipples.

  I stroked Becky to orgasm, holding her tight and kissing her as her whole body shuddered against me. She kissed me deeply. I returned her affections in kind, our tongues dancing gracefully, my fingers still inside her.

  Kissing her way down my neck, Becky slithered her warm body sensually down the length of mine until she was on the floor between my knees. At her coaxing, my cock sprung out at her, causing Becky to gasp. Her sound of surprise giving way to soft hums of pleasure as she took my throbbing dick into her hot, wet mouth, sucking as hard as she could while stroking my shaft with both of her small, warm hands.

  I was pretty sure she was trying to deep throat but couldn't make it much more than halfway down my cock without starting to gag. I stroked her cheek, letting her know it was okay. She eased up a bit and started sucking in earnest, focusing her attention on the head until I exploded into her mouth. Becky fell back against the coffee table, hand over her mouth, trying to keep all my cum in until she could swallow it all down.

  I helped her up, and she climbed excitedly back onto my lap, kissing me as passionately as she had before. Her pussy was so warm and wet; I could feel it through her shorts. Hooking my thumbs under the waistband at her hips, I pulled them down, Becky lifting herself up slightly to assist in getting them off.

  I grabbed her bare ass, squeezing it hard as she took me by the cock, angling it so she could ride it easier. She eased herself down onto it, my rock-hard cock disappearing up her tight, young pussy. Getting not far past the head, she suddenly stopped with a wince of pain.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I…I just—”

  “Are you a virgin?”

  She nodded silently, looking as though she might cry. I held her tight and kissed her tenderly on the cheek. Easing back a bit, Becky gasping softly with pleasure and relief as I moved, I slipped back inside her a lot more shallowly, not wanting to hurt her.

  “Okay,” she said, psyching herself up and getting back into position, laying both hands on my shoulders.

  Taking her by the hips, I guided her back down onto my cock, stopping just short of her sweet little cherry.

  “It's okay, sweetie, just breath.”

  Taking a deep breath in, Becky slowly let it out as I slowly slid up into her, popping her cherry. She winched slightly, clenching her teeth, as my cock first broke through, though she seemed to relax once I was through and well inside her.

  Returning to her natural state of bravado, Becky wrapped her arms around my neck and started to move. Gradually gaining in confidence, and speed, until she was bouncing on my cock, driving it deep inside her. Her moans and cries were muffled by my lips and tongue as we kissed while I took her virginity.

  Finally Becky came, shaking hard against me as my load released deep into her pussy, filling her up, and then she collapsed on me in a spent, panting heap. I held her and kissed her as she recovered, my cock still deep inside her freshly deflowered pussy.

  “What was that, sweetheart?” I asked, sure I had heard her whisper something I hadn't quite gotten.

  “More,” she said again a bit louder, her voice still little more than a whisper.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Please, more.”

  Taking her by the hips, I slowly eased my cock out of her. Then, scooping Becky up into my arms, I carried her up to my bed, kissing her passionately all the way.

  Chapter Ten - Becky

  Dean carried me so easily. I wasn't sure if it was because he was that strong or I was that light, but he had no problem getting me from the parlor to his bedroom. He even kissed me while we went. Like something of a novel. He ever carried me hero style. If only he had been wearing a cape instead of a suit, it would have been perfect.

  Dean lay me down gently on the bed and started taking off his clothes. First his polo shirt, then his Khakis and then his boxers. Layer by layer, he was revealed to me. I had already seen his cock, of course, but it really wasn't the same as seeing all of him, all at once. He was like a statue come to life. Perfectly symmetrical and nearly uncanny in his attractiveness. Moving with surprising grace, he came back to the bed and climbed on top of me. I felt it immediately. A strange and sudden rush of panic.

  “No!”

  “No?” he asked, moving to get off me.

  “Not what I meant. I still want to. I just—I'm not—I'm still really tight…d-down there—”

  “I noticed,” he said with a wink that made me giggle.

  “I'm not sure I can handle having you on top. It might, you know—”

  “Hurt?”

  “Yeah, I'm really sorry.”

  “Don't be. You know your own limits. What positions do you think you can do?”

  “Oh, most of them,” I said, it coming out like a brag.

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yeah, I mean, I assume. I am a former gymnast and a trained ballerina.”

  “You are not,” Dean said, with absolute certainty.

  “Oh?”

  “Nope.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, though it would go towards explaining your smokin' hot body, life is never that perfect. Least of all for the likes of me.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  I hopped up off the bed and went and stood in front of him, my competitive nature taking over. Taking a deep breath for focus, I lifted my left leg up behind my head. Then, leg still up there, I lifted up onto the ball of my right foot. Had I been wearing the right shoes, I likely would have gone up on point, but it was still enough for Dean to break into a heartfelt golf clap.

  “Now get over here and fuck my brains out, you fool.”

  Throwing me back onto the bed, Dean got up before I could get up, wrapping my legs around his hips from behind and taking me by the hips in a position I had once heard called 'The Wheel-Burrow.” I lifted myself up on my hands in what looked sort of like a weird push-up and mostly just tried not to make too much noise as he fucked me silly.

  It still hurt a little, his cock most of the way inside me, but my pussy stretched out, and it started to feel really good. Pulling out at the last minute, he knelt down beside me on the bed, dumping his massive load into my waiting mouth. I had been expecting it this time, and it was no trouble at all to swallow down his entire load. I loved it to be honest. His cum tasted so good, and it made me feel special to be sharing something so intimate with him.

  Getting into what I was pretty sure was called to lotus position, Dean guided me over to him and then eased me down onto his cock so that I was basically sitting in his lap, my legs wrapped around his back, and my arms aro
und his neck. Holding me by my sides, he gently showed me how to move. Slowly working myself up and down his thick, throbbing shaft, my pussy holding onto him tight.

  My pussy felt amazing. So warm and full, and with the angle, his cock rubbed up against my clit with every move. Though he was still really deep, it didn't hurt at all. I had always heard that sex could feel amazing but never really understood how good until that night when Dean took introduced me to a whole new world of earthly delights.

  We both came again, Dean unleashing his load deep inside me, filling me up with a lovely warm glow. We weren't finished yet, though. He still had a lot more to teach me.

  Shifting me ever so slightly, so I went into what was basically splits, going across him horizontally. One leg stretched out over the edge of the bed, the other out straight in front of me, towards the opposite wall. Putting one hand down on his thigh and the other on his shin, I soon found my center of balance and was able to bounce pretty well. Pounding his cock in and out of me at a steady rhythm. It wasn't long before I was coming all over his cock.

  Turning me around, without even needing to pull out, Dean placed my ankles on his shoulders, and then, putting both hands on my lower back for support, he got up onto his knees and fucked me basically in mid-air.

  Giving me a while to recover, Dean had me suck his thick cock again, getting him hard again really fast. I was both nervous and excited to see what he had in store for me next. I couldn't be sure whether it was sheer enthusiasm or a desire to teach me everything he knew, but what we did next was run through most of the rest of the Kama Sutra. Bending me in ways I didn't even know were strictly possible but felt really good none the less. There was nothing like being with someone who had experience to show you your own naivete.

  Finally, after what felt like what must have been my two-hundredth body-rocking orgasm, Dean let me rest. Lying face down on his bed, a sheen of sweat covering me like a gentle morning dew, I had my arms and legs spread wide. The act of lifting my arms being well beyond me at that point. As I lay there, totally spent and utterly helpless, Dean wiped me down with wet wipes from his nightstand, leaving me feeling fresh and clean, my pours opening nicely.

  Disposing of the wet wipes, he went into the adjoining bathroom, running the tap for some reason. It wasn’t until he came back into my admittedly blurred vision that I knew what was going on. He already had a straw in the glass. Apparently, being the type to think well ahead when his mind was clear.

  “H-how?” I managed after taking a big drink of cold water.

  “Used to be a bit of a gadabout. In my younger days.”

  “A wha—”

  “A nice way of saying man-whore. It was either that or drugs, and it seemed like a pretty clear choice at the time. Then Simone swooped in and saved my ass yet again. Pointed out, very gently, that addictive personalities ran in our family. Which partly explained why so many of them were, and are, such reprobates. Anyway, she told me that it was up to me to choose what I got addicted to, and it could go in a good direction or a negative one. Turned me right around that did. I started focusing on my schooling over all else. I sometimes even forgot to eat, but I ended up with a Master's of Computer Engineering with first-class honors.”

  He went quiet then. I wanted to ask what was wrong but didn't get the chance. Without a word, he put the glass down on the night-table and started putting his clothes back on before leaving.

  Chapter Eleven - Becky

  I woke up alone. I hadn't had the strength, physically or emotionally, to go after Dean when he left. The optimist in me was hoping he would just go for a walk around the mansion or something and then come back. The demonic power chords roaring from down the hall strongly implied this hadn't been the case. Had he been playing all night? How had he not woken Jessica?

  The pessimist in me wondered if it had been his plan all along. Put me through the sexual wringer, so I wasn't in any shape to question him and go and do what he was going to do anyway. It was difficult to tell with my boss. He was about as easy to read as James Joyce in Mandarin.

  Jessica wasn't in her bedroom. I knew I had sung her to sleep the night before and couldn't think of where else she could be. Actually, no. I could think of a lot of other places she might be. None of which I particularly wanted to contemplate.

  Pushing down the sudden, cold panic, I went to the playroom. It was her favorite place as far as I knew and was the first place I could think of to go. Intelligence must have run in the Devon bloodline as well as madness because there Jessica sat. She was hosting one of her famous tea parties with noise-canceling headphones on her ears to block out the noise.

  I scooped her up and held her close, trying to calm myself down. She was safe.

  “Would you care for some tea?” Jessica asked, her hearing still altered by the headphones.

  “Yes, but I think we should have breakfast first.”

  “Okay.”

  If only her Uncle Dean could be half as agreeable as little Jessica, we wouldn't have nearly the same amount of trouble.

  I got Jessica to the kitchen table, hugging Mr. Otter, who she had insisted on bringing with her. I could certainly understand her need for comfort and loyalty. Putting a glass of orange juice down for her, I got to making pancakes.

  No sooner was the last flapjack flipped, the breakfast meats cooking away in their own separate pan, than Dean made an appearance. Looking like something freshly dug up from the grave, he was still wearing the same clothes as the night before, and they were beginning to smell like it.

  Kissing Jessica on the cheek, Dean sat down at the head of the table. The disheveled Lord of a quarantined manor.

  I had the urge to spit in his bacon. It was childish, but it was also a passing fancy. I didn't know what was going on, and he could very well have a perfectly reasonable explanation for how he was acting. And I was just dying to hear it.

  “Thanks,” he said softly as I put down his plate and glass.

  “So, you can speak,” I said, sitting across from Jess.

  “Yeah,” he said, pouring a miniature bottle of Vodka from his pocket into his orange juice.

  I really didn't understand it. We had so much fun before — more than I ever would have expected or dreamed of. How could the man who took my virginity turn so cold all of a sudden? I thought Dean really liked me. For all I knew, he did, though if that was the case, he sure had a funny of showing it.

  “How's your breakfast?” I asked, trying to draw him out a bit.

  “Good.”

  “I had a tea party,” Jessica said.

  “Really?”

  “Uh, huh, Mr. Otter was there and Bunny Bun and Squirrel Girl and Sugar Bear. Becky came a bit later, but I still asked if she wanted tea. It's always good to be polite.”

  Her uncle didn't really have anything to say to that, so Dean just stared into his bacon and flapjacks and brooded. I'd even gone to the trouble of using the tasty blueberry syrup, too.

  Jessica started yawning near the end of breakfast, still excited but also tired from the day of fun she had had the day before. She actually seemed to let herself be herself. I couldn't understand why Dean couldn't see that he was not the only one who was grieving. The difference was, I wasn't convinced that Jessica really knew what was going on, or if she did, how to process it. Accepting the death of a loved one being hard enough for an adult, let alone a kid barely old enough for public school.

  Cleaning his plate, Dean disappeared again. Leaving me to take care of his niece as well as wash the dishes. Putting the dishes in the sink, deciding I could wash them later, I took Jessica to her room. It was a bit early for her nap, which she usually didn't have until after lunch, but she was just so tired I didn't really think it could hurt for her to get a few more hours.

  “What book would you like?” I asked, tucking her in.

  “Chu's Day!” Jessica enthused.

  “Always a classic,” I agreed.

  “Don't
be silly, it only came out in 2013.”

  “How do you know that? You weren't even alive.”

  “Google.”

  “Of course.”

  She was most of the way to dreamland by the time I finished the book. It was thirty-six pages, after all, a near magnum opus of the cute animal genre. A little bit of Tip-Toe Thru the Tulips, and the little girl was out like a light.

  For some reason, I was still worried about Dean. My concern mixing with a healthy dose of anger and confusion. When I was rallied enough, I went to look for him, already having a pretty good idea where he would be. As I went to his office, I strengthened my resolve. No matter what was happening, or how much it might hurt, I had to talk to him. I had to ask him what was wrong and what was going on with the two of us.

  The office door was locked. The usually furious typing barely audible over the blast of the music from his stereo. The lyrics to the song as clear as they were disturbing: Goin' crazy/Losin' my mind/I need you more than my life.

  My anxiety went through the roof. What was going on with this man I was locked up with?

  Chapter Twelve - Dean

  I couldn't do attachment. It’s not that I didn't want to. If I was honest, if to no one else then at least to myself, if I was going to commit to anyone, it would have been Becky. But I couldn't. Me trying to commit fully, or even significantly, would be like a psychopath trying to love someone. It was just fucking impossible.

  I couldn't even love Jessica. It wasn't that I didn't care about her. I had the same protective instinct toward her that all normally functioning adults did for all children. No matter what other issuers I might have had, I still had a basic sense of empathy. Which really only made things worse. The only woman I had ever really loved was dead, and nothing was going to change that.

  My sister had saved my life more than once, and I wasn't even there when she died. I wasn't dumb enough to think I could have prevented the virus from taking her. I could have beaten the living shit out of the clearly crooked personal doctor who wouldn’t take her to the hospital. Though, while it would have made me feel better in the moment, it still wouldn't bring Simone back and would only leave me with sore knuckles and a prison record.