by Andrea Wolfe
His hands cupped my breasts through my blouse, his attention to them almost angry. I pumped slowly down below, listening to his breath as if he was telling me a secret. "Dammit, Effie," he moaned. "I just can't fucking resist you."
He pulled up my blouse as I kept stroking him, his pants falling to the floor from my efforts. I leaned into him, breathing in his musk, giving his deft fingers access to the clasps of my bra. It fell to the bed seconds after he started, my blouse discarded on top of the clothing pile.
Jack started sucking on my nipples one by one, nibbling and biting, disrupting my ability to please him. I was a mess internally, an amalgamation of pure lust and throbbing curiosity that was going every possible direction. My mind was stuffed to brim with graphic images, images of him coming on my breasts, coming in my mouth, coming inside of me.
Every time those images flashed in my mind, I could only look into his imagined eyes, couldn't break that contact and watch his seed as it spilled against me.
Fuck.
My core was wild with desire, the tingles of pleasure forcing me against him, straining to get as close to him as possible. He hungrily kept at my nipples, my hands fleeing from him momentarily and instead unzipping my skirt and dropping my panties. When I was fully exposed, I pushed him back, my hands immediately tugging at, and unbuttoning his shirt.
He took the cue and finished the job while I dropped to my knees. No, a blowjob to completion wasn't my ultimate goal—but tasting him right now was. I was practically shivering with want as I wrapped my lips around that pulsing tip and sucked it clean, that flavor of pure manliness overwhelming my senses. I could smell how riled up he was, that musky Jack-ness something I had grown so familiar with.
I took him into the back of my throat, narrowly avoiding my gag reflex. After returning to the tip, I spiraled my tongue there and then pulled away. Licking, sucking, so wet and warm.
"God, you're so cruel," he growled. "And fucking naughty."
I leaned toward him and peppered his belly with small kisses, my hand stroking, my eyes adoring his member and his perfect, lean physique. His pubic hair was perfectly maintained, hair that was almost pillow-soft. I felt somewhat conflicted about what to do next, but then I was certain I knew the next step, knew it beyond a doubt.
My body gave me the answer.
Jack took advantage of my inaction and pushed me onto the bed, onto the small pile of my clothes. I didn't care, because I couldn't stop then. He started to kiss my inner thighs, approaching my clit that I had so painfully disregarded while pleasuring him. My mind suddenly jolted me back to reality before he went any further and I totally lost control.
"No. Fuck me now." It came out like a growl, the words from some primal part of my brain I barely understood.
"Sure." He reached toward his bag and his arm returned with a condom.
I swatted it out of his hand. "Not tonight. I need to feel everything. All of this." My chest was heaving out of control.
"Goddammit, Effie. I can't believe what you do to me."
My legs spread wide for him, his eyes hungrily surveying that part of me reserved just for him. I caught that twitch in his lip, that gentle excitement that said so much. He was riled up and ready, his erection beyond powerful.
He rubbed his cock against my slit, the moisture almost overbearing by this point. I had never been so wet in my life. His tip pressed right against my clitoris and I almost blacked out right then and there. But I fought because I needed to feel all of this.
Back and forth he grazed that tender flesh, teasing, but with forward momentum. He was rocking his hips, the motion so seamless and smooth. I knew he'd enter me at any moment, but I wasn't certain when that moment would be.
I closed my eyes and arched my back, hiding in the blank space of my mind, using my tactile abilities to the fullest instead of my eyes. And then, I felt that marvelous hardness parting me, that width that made my fingers dig into the bed and clutch, as if I were preventing a fall from the edge of a cliff.
"Jack," I moaned. He was filling me slowly, inching inward, my heart pounding rapidly in my chest. He was so big it hurt at first—it was almost as if he had gotten larger since the last time we had sex—but then the pain subsided as quickly as it had arrived. It was like a delicate blend of flavors, the ache that sweetened the pleasure.
My walls clenched him, accommodating him like there was no better place he could be. I opened my eyes to see that look of ecstasy of his face as he reached the hilt. He was all the way inside of me now; I could feel him everywhere, physically and mentally.
"I'm going to fuck you until you pass out," he growled.
I melted into his intensity and he began frantically pumping, giving everything he had to this moment. I flexed and contorted, sometimes following his lead, sometimes losing track and disrupting the flow.
His shaft ground against my clit with every movement, his angle perfect and consistent. I watched his muscles flex, his body a perfect fucking machine. My fingers crept toward my nipples until they were tweaking, the sensation the perfect complement to his intensity. Pleasure was trapped deep inside of me, raging in every direction and seeking an escape route.
Jack forced his hips against mine, holding my legs spread and moving his torso over mine. He paused for a second and then took both of my hands and pinned them against the bed with his own. I was trapped there with him, held down by his magnificent urges.
"You're gonna fucking come for me, Effie." The look on his face was like rapture.
"I know I am," I stammered.
He started jack hammering into me, the world becoming a blur. My ears were ringing while my vision seemed to fog up, as if I had been wearing glasses in the dead of winter and just stepped inside a sauna. I couldn't touch myself, couldn't escape him at all. My breasts shook against my chest with every thrust, every movement that he gave exclusively to me.
I was climbing toward that peak, climbing with him perfectly. I writhed against that bed as the sounds of sex continued to fill the air.
And then I crossed the line. The air rushed out of me, my voice filling the room immediately with screams of ecstasy. My heart was in overdrive, my nipples hard enough to cut glass. Jack was groaning, pushing himself toward that point so we would share it together. So it could be ours.
"Godammit, don't stop!" I was raging inside, the world an almost forgotten concept. "I need to feel you come!"
His back tightened and then he groaned, the sound like a prayer. "Fuck!" he screamed out, the word so raw and desperate. His hands clenched tightly against my wrists—and I could go nowhere. Perfect.
Release spilled into me, jolting me up into another orgasmic peak. Nothing was between us this time. It was just him and me, Jack and Effie. His seed went deep into me, my pussy gulping up everything he could offer. I felt every twitch of that unfiltered, raw sex happening right inside of me.
I had wanted this—and it had turned out to be exactly what I wanted.
The sight of him continued my frenzy of bliss. His scrunched features, his closed eyes, his sweat-stained forehead. He kept me held there against the bed, all his. My orgasm just wouldn't seem to stop.
His hips continued to fuck his release into me until finally we were spent together. I could feel him softening inside of me, his body relaxing in waves. Everything about me felt tingly and new. He released his grip on my wrists.
Jack collapsed, my body breaking his fall, kissing me, cupping my breasts again like they were shaped exactly for his hands. He touched me all over, his fingers just gazing the surface of my skin. I felt so savored, so appreciated.
"You're fucking beautiful, I mean it. Once I start looking at you, I can't stop."
I didn't know what to say. I kissed him again and again, as if doing it repeatedly would make something different happen. He was the first man that had ever done that inside of me, the first man I’d ever given my whole self to.
"Thank you," I whispered. "You're the best thing that's ever happen
ed to me."
"I know," he said jokingly.
We both smiled and cuddled in the afterglow. And despite my former fatigue, we made love one more time before falling asleep.
Chapter 15
"I swear I won't be gone long," Jack said. He was playing with his collar in the mirror, toying obsessively with it, as if he believed he could make himself look better than he already did. Wrong, Jack.
"It looks just fine." I was lying on the bed in my robe, the top intentionally left wide open so he could enjoy the view. I kept noticing his eyes dropping down as we talked and it made me giggle.
He was heading out to meet briefly with some industry people, a necessarily evil.
Signing forms, as he had called it. I hadn't wanted to ask him if he was finalizing a deal. I didn't want to think about that right now at all. Last night had been so breathtakingly perfect. Stacy Levons and then mind-blowing sex.
And after he got back, we were going out with Stacy again! Part of me wanted to get a picture with her to post on Facebook—you know, showing off my "rare celebrity encounter." But I was starting to heed Jack's advice and realize that it wasn't such a big deal. She was great and ultra-talented, but she was just another person. Honestly, with their history together, I'd always have front row access, it seemed.
Plus, she gave me her email address. Way too cool.
He had invited me to come along, but really, I just wanted to sit out on the patio and watch the drunk people stumble around by the pool. If he wasn't going to be long, I had no problem with waiting, quietly sitting with my thoughts.
"Effie, don't worry about anything. This has to do with my back catalog. One label bought out another and now I'm getting the full rights back. Nobody owns me but me."
"And me," I said jokingly.
"Right. But this is awesome," he said. "Giving up those rights is what cost me a lot at the beginning."
"So now you're gonna get to have two jets?" I waggled my eyebrows at him.
He gave me a smile, one that would have won over any person looking at him, male or female. "It's more like artistic progress than anything else. Reclaiming what's truly yours."
"I thought you didn't like that material."
"It's not my favorite, sure. But it's also even worse when it's making selfish assholes more money than it's making you."
"I see." I nodded mechanically.
"I won't be long, I promise. I'll text you on my way back." He leaned down and gave me a deep kiss, one that only served to distract me as his hand carried out its grand scheme and crept into my robe, cupped my exposed breast.
"Hey!" I broke away and smiled. "You're such a pig."
"For good luck," he said.
"As if you need that."
"Oh, and if you want a drink or some room service or something—" He tossed a wad of bills near me on the bed.
"Wow, I feel so classy. You fondle me, throw money on the bed, and then leave."
He grinned again, and then escaped toward the door, tackily saluting me as he left. "Goodbye, my dear."
I gave him one final look before he left, a slow-motion crawl from top to bottom, admiring just how adorable he was. Although Jack constantly insisted that I was perfect, I couldn't help but feel the same way about him in return.
Here we were in a place I had wanted to visit most of my life, sharing moments of luxury on a whim. I would have had to plan something like this for months in advance, putting money aside and losing sleep over the fact that I could be saving that money instead of blowing it on an extravagant trip.
Nope. Come with me with on a quick weekend trip, he had said. And here we were. It was a weekend trip and it was quick.
I waved and then the door opened and closed, the hallway taking my man from me. I looked at the cash on the bed, sliding it around with my fingers. Five hundred dollars, just like that. I grabbed the room service menu and then realized why he had given me so much.
"Jesus," I said aloud.
If Jack hadn't left the money, grabbing a snack in the room would have maxed out my credit card immediately. And if I had gotten a drink on top of that, my savings would be wiped out too. Debt collectors would have been waiting for me as we departed from the hotel.
After perusing the extensive menu for far too long, I eventually settled on the salmon with asparagus and a vodka tonic. I gave a huge tip—God, it felt wild to give away money like that, no joke—and enjoyed my gourmet "snack" by myself.
I slowly downed the drink, realizing that the premium price I had paid for it was barely worth it. Still, I was eating and drinking well whilst wearing a robe in my room. It was a little thing to celebrate, no doubt.
I walked out to the patio and stared up at the clear blue sky, sucking the warm, fresh air into my lungs. Even though pollution was bad around these parts, I sensed none of it in that moment. Or maybe I just didn't care.
Intense curiosity struck me at once. I was thinking about Stacy again, thinking about her relationship with Jack. I had seen all of her movies but one, and obviously, we barely knew each other. Jack was spoiling me, making me feel like an absolute princess, dominating me physically and mentally every second we were together in the most loving, considerate sort of way.
What made it so bad was that the only creative thing I knew about him was that he had released an album called Feedback and at least one person loved it. I felt selfish and self-absorbed all of the sudden. It wasn't a miserable feeling, no. Instead, it was one that was making me want to act, one that made me want to go exploring.
I left my drink on the patio table and ran back into the room, digging frantically in my suitcase. For some reason, I remembered having a pair of ear buds in the hidden inside pocket, ear buds that had come with my phone and that I hadn't ever used. Why I would have put them into my suitcase, I didn't know.
"Yes!" They were there, still wrapped in plastic. I ripped it off and tossed it into the trash, unwinding the earphones and grabbing my phone from the table.
Seconds later, I was back out on the patio looking over the pool area. It was Saturday after all, so there was a good crowd to be found. I realized I wasn't that interested in listening to their commotion. I wanted to dig deeper into Jack Teller.
I opened Spotify on my phone and typed in Jack's name. The list that came up sprawled for pages.
Holy shit, I thought.
After telling it to shuffle, I sat back and listened to whatever came up.
He had an incredible voice, something I wasn't expecting after he claimed he was better at writing for other people. When someone that talented and confident says they're bad at something, you usually take their word for it. I shouldn't have listened to him.
I won't lie—I didn't like every song that came up. Just because I was dating the guy that wrote them didn't mean that I would pretend to be the biggest fan ever. Jack would have appreciated that, I was certain of it. I also wasn't listening to full albums, so I didn't totally grasp where the songs fit in artistically.
This was just a crash-course in Jack Teller while he was dealing with business.
The more I listened, the more I realized just how talented Jack was. There seemed to be every style imaginable in that playlist, and on top of that, collaborations he had done with internationally popular artists showed up as well.
I started laughing loudly as I realized that a song that had played constantly on the radio during my shifts at the college bookstore had actually been written by the guy I was now dating. It had played so much that it almost drove me mad. I couldn't blame Jack for that, but maybe I would pick on him for it someday.
It was as if I had known this man too well prior to ever meeting him.
I kept jumping back and forth between Spotify and Wikipedia, gobbling up every bit of information I could. When I heard a song from Once show up, I thought my playlist had gotten off course.
Nope. He actually had written one of the songs in the show and hadn’t told me! I had sat there and watched that whole play,
not realizing that he had contributed to it.
I buried my head in my hands, my cheeks burning red with shame. I knew that Jack was successful, but he hadn't pushed it on me at all. Hadn't begged me to listen to material. Hadn't bragged that I was probably familiar with his work. His rants about the music industry never included his gigantic contribution to it over only a half-decade. He mentioned that people made a lot more money than he did off of his own work, but I just thought that was part of his whole the system is broken rant.
After realizing I hadn't even made a dent in the list of available material, I yanked the ear buds out my ears and set them by my nearly empty drink.
Don't let it get to you.
Jack was a complex guy. He had his reasons, I knew. I couldn't beat myself up over this. He said someday he'd show me stuff, that we'd have a listening party. He had broken down to me over the tragedy in his life, opened up that part of himself and given me a full view inside.
Wasn't the point of being in a relationship to give all of yourself to the other person? The good and the bad? Nothing but the real? I was vaguely reminded of prototypical wedding vows.
Maybe he was hiding from his work because it reminded him too much of his past. Maybe he just didn't care about introducing it to me. I would have kept thinking about the matter, but Jack popped back into the room. I abruptly closed Spotify, not wanting him to know what I had been doing. I didn't understand my desire for secrecy.
"Still in your robe, I see." He strolled toward me on the patio, glancing at the spilled contents of my bag on the floor, but not actually saying anything further.
"Hi, Jack," I said excitedly. "H-how was the meeting?"
"Better than usual. I will admit some aspects of the business are easier to deal with out here than in NYC."
"I see." I turned my head back toward the sky as Jack joined me on the patio. He leaned down and kissed me, straightening out my robe after he noticed that one of my breasts was exposed. "Oh, thanks," I said after he rose again.