by Ember Leigh
She flings open the door, eyes wild and hair plastered to her shoulders. I grip the wood of the doorframe, drinking her in, still unable to believe that we made it here. Somehow. Finally.
I cup her heart-shaped face as I step inside, kicking the door shut behind me with my foot. She giggles, her glittery green gaze bouncing across my face. I back her up toward the bed.
“You’re mine now, Nova.”
Her breath catches as the backs of her knees hit the bed. My crossbody bag is trapped between us as I dip down for another mind-numbing kiss. The woman’s lips are the lovechild of fairies and porn stars. She inspires mischief as much as screeching lust, and I could spend a year kissing her and still want just one more pass at that mouth. Her hands go to the strap of my bag, and when the kiss breaks, she’s lifting it up gently.
“What the hell is in here?”
“Nothing.” I gather the focus to take the bag off. I set it carefully on a nearby chair.
“That’s awfully delicate handling for nothing.”
I smirk, returning to my post between her legs. I guide her back to sitting, hoisting her by the hips so that her thighs splay open. “It’s my sketchbook. And my camera.”
Something unreadable passes over her face. “You sketch?”
“Yeah.”
She groans, flopping back onto the bed. “Why’d you have to go and get hotter?”
Desire thrums through me, pulsing and urgent, as I assess her splayed out on the bed. My cock is trapped beneath the waistband of my swim shorts, the head bulging out. I drop my head down to her creamy belly, smoothing my lips over the smooth skin. She shivers beneath me, goosepimples flaring over her skin.
“Weston—”
“What?” My kisses venture lower. I honestly don’t know where to start. I want to eat her pussy as much as I want to tease her nipples until that look of languid shock creases her face again. I push my palms up the sides of her cool thighs, tugging at the top of her bikini bottoms with my teeth.
“You aren’t—”
“What?” I grin as my plan becomes clear. Pussy-eating is definitely first on the agenda.
“Don’t feel obligated. You don’t have to.”
“Have to what?” I tug at the knots holding her bottoms together at the sides. She gasps, wriggling beneath me.
She lets out a little grunt. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“I don’t. You can’t possibly be asking me not to eat your gorgeous pussy.” The knot on the left side dissolves. I press my mouth to the damp crotch of her bikini, taking a few measured breaths there as I look up at her. Her legs have splayed open even farther.
“You don’t know it’s gorgeous.”
I yank hard at the bikini, revealing her swollen pussy. Tightly trimmed, dark red hair adorns her mons, and she is juicy, dripping with arousal. I wet my bottom lip, my cock twitching.
“I actually do know it’s gorgeous.”
She squirms, so I press soft kisses up the inside of her thigh. A long sigh escapes her.
“You understand that I want to do this, right?” I kiss higher up her thigh, enjoying how much she’s wriggling in anticipation. I’m so close I can taste it—and smell her. Another kiss up her thigh. She whimpers.
“I just…can’t take it.”
“Hm.” I nuzzle the seam of her thigh where it meets her groin. “You’re gonna have to.”
She bucks, as if urging me along. “Westonnn.”
“What is it, Nova?” I bring my mouth up toward the swollen lips of her pussy, but I don’t touch them. Yet. I just breathe.
She groans. “Are you trying to torture me? Like some sort of payback for the yoga class?”
I pull back, genuinely ticked by the suggestion. “You think I’m not taking my pussy-eating duties seriously.”
She snorts, going limp on the bed. “I swear to God.”
“You didn’t even want me to do it, and now you’re criticizing my performance.” It’s too easy to spar with her. It’s too fucking fun.
A helpless laugh escapes her as she stares up at the ceiling like she’s pleading with God himself.
“Maybe I won’t even now,” I tease, nuzzling her thigh so she knows I’m full of shit. As if I could stay away from this. From her.
She wriggles again, sighing. “You are trying to kill me, aren’t you?”
“No,” I say simply, finally bringing my lips to her swollen folds. “I’m trying to make you feel better than you ever have before.”
I flatten my tongue against the tight bud of her clit. She goes limp, a low moan escaping her, as I flick my tongue back and forth. I watch her reactions as I fuck her with my tongue. This is the type of shit I like to do with the right women, but they don’t come around often. I don’t know why Nova feels like the right one, except that she does.
“Ohhhh my GOD.”
I press my lips to her clit, easing a finger into her pussy. And lord, she’s tight. Tighter than I imagined. My cock twitches again, reminding me of the urgency here. How my fantasies are minutes away from becoming reality. Scratch that. Actively becoming a reality.
I scrape my teeth against her clit. Her ass comes off the bed, accompanied by a whimper. I pin her down at the hips with my palms, burying my face between her legs.
And this time, I don’t tease. I don’t let up. I want her juicy and unraveled and losing it. I need her that way if I’m ever going to fit inside her. Nova squirms and whines and calls my name over and over and over. She’s fighting an uphill battle, trying to escape this orgasm that I am hellbent on giving her. She’s bucking and moving against me at the same time, and I just hold her down and lavish her clit with attention.
Soon she’s quaking, her tummy going tense and her thighs rigid. She moans and covers her face with her hands. The bedspread beneath her is soaked. I like to see evidence like that. It means I’m doing a damn fine job. She’s breathless and heaving while I push to standing and head for my bag.
Her nipples are tight points beneath her bikini, rising and falling as she recuperates, hair tousled and wild around her on the bed. I rummage for the condom, unable to see straight from how much my cock is taking over all my available brain function. I have to remove every single fucking thing from my bag before I find the foil packet at the bottom.
“You thought ahead.” Her voice is husky and sated. She’s propped up onto her elbows, blinking lazily with a little smile on her face. I like that I put that look on her face. I consider myself a generous lover in general, but something about Nova makes me want to go above and beyond.
“I was being optimistic,” I confess, holding the condom packet between my teeth as I step out of my swim trunks. My cock bobs heavily, hard as a fucking rock. Her mouth form an O as she beholds it.
“That’s just a prosthesis, right?” she asks. “Something you can take off, and your normal-sized, smaller dick is hiding inside?”
I crawl onto the bed, grinning like a fool with the condom between my teeth. Yeah, they’re XL. I might be the softest Daly brother, the true bona fide last place of the family…but swear to God, I’ve got the biggest dick. And maybe that balances the scales.
“Bad news, Nova,” I tell her letting the condom fall onto her chest. “This is the small dick.”
She wriggles again, her pink lips quirking into a teasing smile. “I don’t know if this one is gonna work. It’s too big for the job.”
I tut, shaking my head. “I think your own equipment is perfectly prepared. Why else do you think I got you all juicy and lubed up?”
She snorts. “You make me sound like something a mechanic works on.”
“Just consider me the pussy mechanic.” I lower myself, coaxing a long, sloppy kiss from her. She hums at the tail end of it, a smile covering her face as I pull away.
“You’re goofy,” she says, but the warmth in her tone tells me she means it as a high compliment. Because that’s how I feel about her. She’s goofy, in the best way possible. I’ve never wanted to be a
pussy mechanic for anyone else, much less on the first night of sex. But Nova is a confusing blend of familiar and erotic. Splayed out here on the bed like this, she looks and feels like a lover I’ve been coming to—and with—for years. Even though we only ended the cold war earlier today.
I dip down for another kiss, and then another. I’m so ready to feel her deepest, most intimate part, I could come if thought too hard about it.
When we break apart, I tear open the condom packet, and my hand trembles as I roll it down over my cock. Her breath catches when I ease back on top of her.
“I’ll go slow,” I promise when I catch her nibbling on her bottom lip.
“Don’t split me in two,” she whispers, smoothing her hands over the tops of my shoulders.
“Can’t promise that,” I whisper before planting another kiss against her velvety lips. “But only the good splitting, I swear.”
I reach down between our bodies to help guide myself inside her. My cockhead slips in after a few glorious moments of pressure and sighs. Once it’s in, warmth floods me and she’s moaning.
“Jesus, Weston.”
“I know.” I catch the tremble in my voice; I wonder if she does too. I sink into her slowly. Deliberately. Watching her for any sign that it’s too much or too fast.
But she takes it all, her eyes alive and wild, locked with mine as I sink deeper and deeper. Her chest heaves, that green bikini covering her full tits and rock-hard nipples. I pause, tugging the scraps of fabric down until her breasts spill out. Beautiful, pebbled pink nipples greet me, and I scoop up each one in my mouth in turn.
“Ohhh, Weston.” Her voice is breathier now. Farther away. I snag a nipple between my teeth as I push into her a little more. And then a little more.
“Tell me if it’s too much.”
She whimpers, stilling me with her palms pressed to my shoulders. “Oh, my God. Your dick is literally coming out of my back.”
I laugh into her shoulder. “You said you wanted to be impaled, right?”
Her laughter is low, guttural. A little crazy. “Yes. Now give it all to me.”
I sink deeper inside of her, burying myself to the hilt. Her pussy has swallowed every last inch of me. Sweat beads at my temples. I haven’t even moved against her, and beating back this orgasm is a herculean effort.
“Oh, my lord,” she whispers, her eyes fluttering shut.
“Open your eyes, Nova.” I press soft kisses along her collarbone. “Look at me.”
She does as I say, her green gaze snapping to find mine. I rock against her, loving the wash of emotions that cross her face. A strangled noise escapes her, equal parts feminine and animalistic. Yes. That’s what I want to hear. Exactly that level of pleasure.
“You are so…fucking…”
“Hard? Close to coming?” I rock against her again, enjoying the jiggle of her breasts as I do. “Both are true.”
“You forgot sexy.” She digs her fingernails into my biceps. “And sweet. And sooo fucking sexy.”
I smirk. “You said sexy twice. Be more creative.”
A sharp laugh erupts from her. “Shit. Did I? I meant snarky. Sexy, sweet, and snarky as fuck.”
I begin easing myself out of her, gritting my teeth against the heat stalking my insides. If I give in, it threatens to spill over and drown me. “Well that’s nothing compared to you.”
“Oh, please,” she slaps at my arm.
“You are the sexiest and the snarkiest of all,” I tell her, sitting back to grab my cock and rub it all over her juicy folds. She inhales sharply, closing her legs around my sides as I rub my cockhead back and forth over her clit.
“Ohhhhmyfuckinggod,” she says, and then I plunge myself back inside her. There’s less resistance this time, but she’s still tight as hell. My shoulders prickle as she lifts her hips, pussy clamping around me. I scoop her up into my arms, burying my face in her cleavage. Happiness—and a whole lot more—buzzes through me.
I never counted on this. On it feeling like this. On her meshing with me like this. I push into her again, and then I guide her legs up, so that she can hook her ankles behind my back. A groan rips out of me as I sink even deeper this time. She claws at my chest, cheeks flushed.
“It feels too good,” she moans. I pull out of her again, my belly going taut. I’m at the end of my rope here. Sweat starts to trickle down my temple. I push into her, more forcefully, grinding up against her so that she can feel every last inch of my desire. I rock my hips in a slow circle, burying my face in her neck.
She clamps down around me again, consuming the last ounce of my control. I sink my teeth into the soft part of her neck as my belly jerks. A moan rips out of me, my cock spasming as the orgasm pummels through me.
Once I can hear and see again, Nova’s chest is heaving. She’s clutching my arm as if it’s a life raft, and for a minute I think that maybe I left her hanging.
“Nova,” I say, pushing onto my elbows. “I didn’t…You came, right?”
“Like, a hundred times,” she says, a lazy smile overtaking her face.
I nuzzle her nose. My heart is still pounding, and I’m drawing deep, labored breaths. Finally I roll off of her and sit up, gently freeing my cock from the sticky condom.
If this were a normal travel hookup, I’d have tossed the condom and be out the door by now. Hell, I wouldn’t have spent so much time between her legs. Wouldn’t have given half as many kisses.
But I don’t want to leave. Not right now. Sure, my hut is ten feet away. But I’d rather stay less than ten inches away. And no, that’s not a dick reference.
I toss the condom in the bathroom wastebasket, stumbling over my own swim trunks on my way back to the bed. Nova has her hands tucked under her cheek, watching me with a blissed out smile that says it all.
This was fucking great.
I’m not ready to let it end quite yet.
Chapter 15
NOVA
Attentive. Sensual. Forceful but sensitive.
These are just a few of the words I’d use if I had to write a Yelp review of Weston’s sexual performance. But since our society hasn’t yet reached the point where we evaluate our bedromp proficiency on social media—THANK GOD—then I’ll just have to giggle into my palm for the foreseeable future while I relieve every last dirty, hot, sexy thing that man and I did in my tiki hut.
The next morning, I rise naturally just a few minutes after six. Odd, considering Weston and I continued having sex until after two. But as I sit up, yawn, and catch sight of the gorgeous man lying next to me, his head resting on his big bicep, arm still draped over my hips as if making sure I’m not going anywhere, the adrenaline returns.
Did last night really freaking happen?
The perma-grin is back as I hobble toward the bathroom. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt so sexually satisfied, or so sore. Not even in my best fantasies have I ever felt so looked after. And I certainly never thought to fantasize about how sore my pelvis could be the following day.
But the aches don’t matter. Not even a little bit. It’s all worth living through the biggest surprise of my life, when the jerk-face ended up being the sweetest lover.
I tinkle and then pause by the front window to peek at the night. Dawn is on its way, the cobalt warning signals streaking across the horizon. I look back at Weston, wondering if he might want to catch this sunrise. But maybe he needs his sleep. I decide to venture out alone, and I hunt for my bikini in the darkness of the room. Once I’ve replaced the still-damp emerald green bikini that I will never get rid of simply because Weston is a fan of it, Weston is stirring in bed.
He cracks one eye open. The sight of him there—tousled, bleary, sculpted—makes me want to melt back onto the bed and never leave his side.
“You going swimming?” he asks, pushing up onto his elbow. The rough scrape of his just-woken-up voice makes something wrench in my chest. The same creeping realization began to unfold like a lotus last night.
“I wanna catch the sunrise.”
He comes to sitting, blinking blearily as he looks around the room. “Can I come with?”
“Of course. I wanted you to, but I thought maybe you’d rather sleep.”
“Nah.” He heaves a sigh, rubbing at his face. “Sunrise wins every time.”
He rolls out of bed, stumbling briefly as he searches for his swim trunks. I grab my camera bag and a towel, and once he’s tugged his shorts on, he follows me out the door.
“You cold?” He slips an arm around my shoulders as we head toward the beach.
“No. But you can keep me warm anyway.”
He smiles down at me, but I can’t make out the best parts of his face in the darkness. Luckily, I absorbed enough details about last night that I could sketch his face for a detective if he were wanted in a murder.
Once we’re close to the water, I drop my bag. Weston arranges the towel for us to sit on. He sits down, cross-legged, and caresses my ankle as I fiddle with my camera.
I know it’s only been a few hours since our sex-a-thon ended, but part of me likes that he’s keeping up the dream. This fantasy of being together.
I know I shouldn’t be thinking like this, but it’s hard not to. Because of who I am. Because of what Weston represents to me. Because how can I deny it? Weston is the guy of my fantasies. And not just because of what he did with his tongue last night.
“The show is starting,” Weston says. I settle onto the towel next to him, nuzzling into his side when he slings his arm over my shoulder. The sky at the horizon is transitioning to indigo. As the sunrise pushes out the darkness, my gaze drifts to what’s around me. Notably Weston at my side. The way our knees are touching. The warm security of his arm around me. He yawns, and then tips his head against mine.
And then the color show begins. Coral streaks the sky, illuminating some cloud wisps that had been lurking in the darkness. Weston says, “Mm hmm,” as the sunrise stretches into infinity. I bring the camera up to my face and snap the nascent day. This is bliss. Pure and simple.
“Damn, day. You’re looking pretty good,” Weston says.
“Are you hitting on the sunrise?”