by Elia Winters
Hannah stretched out on her side, facing him, and he took his time looking her up and down.
“You are…gorgeous.”
She flushed. “What about you?” He was still completely clothed. “You going to get naked anytime soon?”
“We’ll get there.”
Mitchell climbed gracefully onto the bed with that litheness she’d noticed downstairs. He moved like an animal, measured and precise, maybe like a big cat. He climbed onto the bed next to her and, with a hand on her shoulder, rolled her onto her back on the bed. Then, without further ado, he inched his way down her body and pushed her legs apart.
Fuck, just like this? No preamble, no other touching, and he was staring right at her folds, his strong hands holding her thighs spread. Embarrassment and arousal warred inside her: being so exposed wasn’t supposed to turn her on like it did. She was dripping. Hannah slid an extra pillow below her head, propping herself up, looking down the length of her body at the highly erotic sight of him lying down between her legs and studying her like one might study a rare flower. She had to breathe. She was going to pass out if she kept holding her breath, but breathing seemed way too difficult.
Mitchell traced his fingers up and through her wet folds with a steady, slow swipe, running two fingers through her cleft and up over her clit. The arousal hit her like a jolt, hips arching up off the bed out of reflex. Fuck.
He chuckled. “Are you a little sensitive?”
Hannah nodded, gripping the comforter, smiling even as she felt overwhelmed and, honestly, a little nervous. This was all happening in the wrong order; she didn’t know what to expect from him. The unpredictability shook her more than she had thought it would.
“I love looking at you like this, close up.” Mitchell spread her folds open, using his fingers to part her lips and expose the heart of her sex. “It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
He sounded reverent, and god, if that didn’t push all kinds of weird buttons inside her. Hannah couldn’t respond. Her throat had closed up, tension and emotion and vulnerability and just plain raw arousal silencing her.
Mitchell put his mouth directly over her clit and sucked the entire thing into his mouth.
Hannah cried out and twitched, her thighs reflexively trying to close and squeeze him away, but she was held in place by his hands. Oh, that was intense. Intense, amazing, overwhelming, everything all in one, and she suddenly couldn’t parse exactly what he was doing with his mouth because it was yes, this, now, good.
She was making noises, mindless whimpering noises. Fuck, how did he get to be so good at this? Slowing her breathing, she tried to calm herself down, to keep from ratcheting up and over the edge too quickly. Deep breaths. Deep, slow breaths. With her attention focused again, she could feel the long, steady laps of his tongue over her bud, alternating with suction, a changing variety keeping her on the edge of an orgasm but not quite bringing her there.
When he stopped, she couldn’t help pushing her hips forward, toward his mouth. He lifted his head, mischief in those eyes. “You want more?”
“Yes.”
“Ask nicely.”
“Please.” She had no intention of playing games here, not with a potentially incredible orgasm just a bit beyond her grasp, and she wriggled in his grip. “Please make me come.”
“Do you really want that?”
Hannah looked down, incredulous. Was he serious? “Why the fuck would I not want that?”
He swiped his tongue once over her clit, and she jerked in his grip reflexively.
“Because,” he answered, “sometimes it’s fun to be teased.”
“Okay, yeah. Sometimes. Not right now.” She tried to push herself forward into his mouth again. “Please?”
He held eye contact, his mouth so close she could feel his breath whispering across her skin, making her wait an interminable length of time. Finally, he nodded.
“If you insist,” he murmured.
It wasn’t often that Hannah’s brain became so hyperfocused during sex, but it wasn’t often that she got eaten out with such precision, either. The climax built all the way from her ankles, rolling up through her body, thin currents of electricity that tingled and sparked and warmed her until yes, there it was, right there, the edge that she so desperately sought, the pleasure building right beyond the peak.
Her climax overtook her like a force of nature, seizing up her muscles in a paroxysm of overwhelming pleasure. She came hard, his mouth on her the entire time, sucking and licking her through, drawing out the waves longer than should have been possible for her, her hips jerking as she arched up against his mouth. She gripped the comforter, threw her head back, and lost herself in the searing-hot intensity of orgasm.
Coming down, she flopped her limbs off to the side, boneless in the aftermath.
“Fuck. Me.”
She couldn’t move right away. In her limp relaxation, Mitchell got up, left her line of sight for a couple of moments, and then stretched out on the bed next to her with a smug grin on his face.
Mitchell smiled. “I like doing that.”
“Yeah, you think?” In the giddy aftershocks, Hannah had to laugh. “You might have killed me. I’m completely unable to move. Exhausted.” She let her head loll to the side and closed her mouth, tongue out in a parody of death.
Mitchell made an exaggerated noise of despair. “Oh no! Death by orgasm! I killed her!”
Hannah opened her eyes again and smiled. “You have. I am dead.”
“That is a shame. I am most definitely not dead.” Mitchell cupped his erection through his jeans, and Hannah felt a flutter of interest again. Damn, that was sexy.
“Well, I think my death is temporary. A little death, as it were.”
Mitchell grinned. “Are you making a French joke? La petite mort? The little death?”
Color her surprised. “I am. Since when do you speak French?”
“I don’t speak French, but I know that one.” Mitchell scooted closer. “And I can cook French.”
Hannah reached up to pull his head down to her. “And kiss French.” She tasted her own muskiness on his lips.
Mitchell groaned quietly against her mouth. “I want to fuck you.”
“I want to be fucked.”
“This is a good arrangement.” He grinned. Sitting up, he pulled off his shirt.
Damn, those muscles. She had to ogle. “Fuck, how often do you work out?”
“Six days a week.” He didn’t sound like he was bragging, but he was very matter-of-fact about it.
“Doing what?”
“I do Crossfit and yoga. Sometimes I run or swim.”
Hannah let out a breath of laughter. Great. “I am so not that ambitious.”
“You own your own business. You’re clearly more than a little ambitious.”
Hannah’s smile felt stiff. Sure, her own business. The business that was about to go under if she didn’t turn things around. The business that she had been so determined to run on her own, to prove that she could be independent and successful. The damn albatross around her neck.
Mitchell must not have noticed the change in her smile, and who would have in these circumstances? Regardless, her mood changed quickly when she saw his gaze return to the armoire. He got to his feet and walked over, hands on his hips, shirtless but still half dressed. “A bureau, a closet, and this. So what are the odds this is full of clothes?”
Ha. “Not very good.”
He smiled. “Can I look in here?”
“Please.” A guy who was intrigued by her toys? Perfect.
Mitchell opened both doors and whistled. “Damn.” The cabinet was filled, each shelf organized and stocked wall to wall with a whole array of her favorite items. Mitchell picked up a paddle hanging just inside the door. He slapped his palm with it. “You like this?”
Hannah flushed. She didn’t let just anyone spank her. Her partners never took it seriously, never did it the way she liked it, and she didn’t want to get her hopes up. �
��I do, yes.”
Mitchell smacked the paddle against his hand again, and that satisfying thump made Hannah’s pussy clench. “How much?”
She could play it off here, like she usually did, but something told her not to. “A lot.” She swallowed. “Have you ever paddled someone before?”
“No.” Mitchell smacked it against his hand again. “But I’ve given some really good spankings, I think. Now and then I get a partner who’s into it.”
Damn, that was a mental image for the ages. Mitchell, calm and serious, holding someone down and spanking their bare ass. Holding another woman down. Holding Ben down. Fuck, no matter who she pictured, it was hot as hell. Hannah swallowed. No way she was going to turn this down. She got onto her hands and knees.
“Okay. Hit me. Medium.”
Mitchell paused. “Don’t you want a safe word?”
Hannah sat back on her heels. “I’d rather just tell you what I like. If it’s okay with you, we can stick to no meaning no. I don’t generally use safe words unless I want to struggle and fight and say no and not have you stop.” She smiled, biting her tongue as she did so. “But I don’t want you to fight. I want you to hit me. Give me what you think is a medium hit.” She got back onto her hands and knees and wiggled her ass at him.
Mitchell wound up and smacked the fleshy part of her bottom with the paddle. She let out a yelp, but it was out of surprise instead of pain. That light sting was gorgeous.
“Oh. Nice.” She let her head hang. “Harder? That was…like, a five. Can you give me a seven?”
His next stroke was a bit harder, landing on the other cheek, and it made such a satisfying sound, the resonance running through her body, that she had to groan. “Fuck. That’s good. Just like that?”
“Absolutely.” His voice sounded husky with want.
The man could paddle. Like, really paddle. A few strokes and he was into it, confident and powerful, and Hannah was a mewling mess in no time at all. He wasn’t hitting too hard, except once or twice, and with the strength and control he had over his muscles, he was able to hit her perfectly over and over. Her ass must be red, the color probably blooming under his strokes, her skin burning hot. Everything dissolved except the solid sound of the paddle on her ass and the stinging of her skin.
His sudden light touch on her warm flesh made her jump, the contact of his hand rather than the paddle pulling her out of her meditative state. She’d let her head and shoulders collapse down to the bed, and now she lifted them to look behind her. Mitchell’s eyes looked dark and feral, and he still held the paddle in one hand. Damn, she was suddenly as horny as if she’d never come.
Hannah needed to get her hands and her mouth on him, right now. She crawled over to him and then sat up on her knees to unfasten his belt buckle, needing what was inside, needing to get at his body. He let her undress him, helping her push the pants and boxers down over his narrow hips so the rest of his clothes fell in a pile to the floor.
Mitchell had a really nice cock. It wasn’t a monster cock like Ben’s, sure, but she didn’t want to have that all the time. Slightly over average length, if she could judge by sight, but thick, hard, perfectly proportionate to this average-height, muscular man. And she wanted it in her hands, in her mouth, in her pussy.
She wrapped both hands around him and began to stroke, and Mitchell let out his breath in a huff. “Not wasting time, huh?”
“Nope.” She shifted to sit back on the bed but then yelped as her sore ass landed on the bed. She paused in her stroking. “Fuck! That stings.”
“Good sting? Or bad sting?”
“Good sting.” She adjusted to carefully sit down. “So good. I can’t describe it.” That searing burn brought her into her body and out of her head. She slid off the edge of the bed, kneeling on the floor in front of him. Without further preamble, she took him down into her mouth.
Sucking cock was seriously underrated. She loved the thick weight of him, the way he filled her mouth, the sweet, clean smell of his skin.
Mitchell’s hand went reflexively to the side of her head, but he didn’t pull, touching and then moving away. No, she didn’t want careful. She had had a touch of his dominance and wanted more. Grabbing his wrist, she pressed his hand into her hair.
Thank god for quick learners. He closed his fist on her hair, gripping her tight enough to hurt her scalp, and then began to slowly fuck her face. Hannah relaxed her jaw, closed her eyes, and relished this helpless sensation. She couldn’t overpower him. She couldn’t get away. She was at his mercy, fucked in the mouth like a whore, and that fantasy had her dripping in no time.
Her clit slid between her fingers, soaked and needy, and she began to rub.
“You like sucking my cock?” he asked, his voice sounding strained. “You want me to fuck your mouth while you play with your pussy?”
Jesus, she hadn’t expected dirty talk, and it was amazing.
“Don’t come, though. Get yourself nice and close to the edge.”
Hannah’s pussy clenched around nothing, and she sucked harder on the cock in her mouth. This was exactly what she wanted. She let him fuck her in the mouth, hard and deep, almost too deep, almost enough to make her gag. Then he pulled back, all the way, slipping out of her mouth and leaving her reaching for him.
She stayed on her knees for a moment, dazed, enjoying looking up at him. “Please fuck me.”
Mitchell smiled down at her, cupping her face with his broad hand. Shit, that pushed some serious submissive buttons in her, and she closed her eyes at the emotion threatening to overwhelm her. “Yeah, look at you. All right.”
He walked over to the open armoire and set the paddle down where he found it, then grabbed something off one of the shelves. As Hannah got a condom from the nightstand, Mitchell stretched out on the bed. She climbed onto the bed with him and tore open the wrapper, eager to get it on his dick. He watched her as she carefully unfurled the latex, sheathing his wet cock and moving to straddle his hips. She could not get him inside her fast enough.
“Jesus.” His curse sounded like a prayer as she sank all the way down onto him in one hard slide. He exhaled, the muscles of his abdomen clenching as he controlled himself. In this position, his entire physique stretched out beneath her, those exquisitely sculpted muscles twitching with the feeling of her pussy wrapped around his cock. She shifted her gaze to his eyes, and he was staring right back. After his paddling, his dominance, his single-minded approach to this visit, this raw vulnerability on his face shook her more than the physical sense of having him inside her. She’d nearly forgotten that beneath the dominance, the confident sexiness, the playful intensity, this was Mitchell. Here, though, with his hands on her hips and his eyes locked on hers, everything crashed back: months of flirtation, tiny details of conversation, all of that culminating in this moment of raw, honest nakedness.
Hannah looked away. She was not ready to deal with all of that right now. Right now, he was gorgeous, he was throbbing inside her, and she was going to ride him until he went to pieces beneath her. She shifted her hips and began to rock against him.
In this position, her clit rubbed against his cock with each stroke. It might not be enough, though. As if reading her mind, he reached over to the nightstand and held up a small vibrator, which must have been what he’d grabbed earlier. His smug expression made her smile. That vulnerability from earlier was gone, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. But then he slid the vibrator into place between them and switched it on, and all thought vanished for a breathless second.
“Pretty proud of yourself, there?” She shifted her hips to press her clit harder against the vibe. Damn, that was nice.
He nodded. “You could say that.”
She could come like this, no problem. With that thought at the back of her mind, she focused on him, noting his every reaction and response.
Watching a man in the throes of passion was one of her favorite parts of bringing a partner to bed. Mitchell’s guard slowly came down again. H
is eyes were glazed, lips slightly parted, and he opened and closed his mouth a fraction of an inch with every breath. He held on to her hips as she moved, and even though he had been so dominant before, now she was in control. Control was a heady, beautiful feeling. God, she wanted to know him, really know him. What lit him up? Running her hands over his chest, she found his nipples, small and dusky rose colored, neither fully brown nor fully pink, and rubbed across them with her thumbs.
He huffed out a breath and smiled. “Good girl.”
Well, fuck, that wasn’t something she expected to turn her on like it did. She might have control right now, but just like that, he reminded her that he was letting her have it. And damn, that was sexy.
His cock twitched inside her each time she brushed those sensitive buds, even more so when she pinched. Her orgasm threatened at the edge of her senses, but she held it off, teasing them both. Lightly pinching his nipples, she rode his cock as his heavy breathing turned to soft groans. The vibration transferred through both of them, surely, since it was lined up directly with his cock as well as her clit. She ground down against it, starting to quiver.
Unguarded, vulnerable, she had another moment of clarity about how fucking beautiful this man was. Damn, getting emotional during sex was not her style at all, but this was Mitchell, with his perfect body and mysterious demeanor, whom she knew and yet didn’t know at all, Mitchell who was twitching and gasping and starting to shake apart beneath her. She should focus just on the sex, but no, she couldn’t stop thinking of him, this man she had come to care for, and those feelings tangled with her arousal and wove the two together.
Tightening all her muscles around his cock, she held her position flush against his hips, squeezing him as hard as she could, pressing against the vibrator and holding his dick all the way inside her.
“Fuck!” He slammed his head back against the pillow. “You’re just… I’m gonna…” He began to thrust up into her, letting loose like he hadn’t before. She held on to his chest and rode out the thrusts as he came closer and closer to the edge, loving his inarticulate words, his frenzied thrusts, the expression of complete surrender on his face. She was so close, too, and pinched his nipples hard one final time.