Moaning, I encouraged him wantonly, “I want that, Nick. I want you. Please…”
My hips jerked against his. I was drowning in his sea.
“Dammit, Priss.” Throwing my arms around his neck, he hoisted me up and hauled me over to the bed.
The mattress sank beneath our weight. He ground his hips against my sex, swallowing every moan from my mouth. I whimpered wanting him further between my thighs, but my stupid leggings were locking my legs shut.
My eyes shot open as his weight lifted off of me. Nick knelt between my legs and jerked my bottoms completely off. His eyes met mine before trailing down over my body that lay before him, quaking in anticipation of his next touch. It was unbearable, those seconds when he took me all in but didn’t touch. Starting at my ankles, his hands slid up my calves and along the tops of my thighs, stopping at the waist of my underwear.
The rip of the fabric was like the slice of the guillotine in the silence.
“Nick!”
“Never again,” he growled and crumbled the forty-dollar fabric into a ball before tossing it back behind him.
“I… I just got—” My protest was cut short as he blew over my slit. Hot and cold spiraled through me.
“So fucking perfect, Priss.” His words muted as his mouth disappeared between my thighs.
A small scream tore from my lips as his mouth closed over my pussy and I began racing toward heaven. His lips sucked my clit into his mouth, pulling on the tender bud again and again, making me spiral harder and faster. His tongue lashed over me, lapping up my desire that seeped out of me. I reached blindly for his head, my fingers threading through the silky softness of his hair to hold him tight against me.
I degraded into a noisy and thrashing mess, needing more of him.
My skin felt like the thin exterior of a balloon and Nick, with every touch, every kiss, and every dangerous swirl of his tongue over my bud, was inflating me right up to my breaking point.
White spots drifted into my vision. Maybe it was possible to die from pleasure.
My hips lifted off of the bed as my muscles tensed knowing what was coming. My body hit the pause button on every other sensation—every other necessity—only searching for its release.
“Nick!” I garbled out his name, gasping for air as he left me hanging; the angry waves of unfulfilled release pummeling me from every angle. I’d been so close.
“Don’t worry Priss, you’re going to come for me—but not until I’m inside of you.” He stood and walked to the nightstand. “Won’t survive seeing… hearing… tasting you come without me.”
My eyes looked away, my fingers gripping into the bedsheets, as he returned with a condom.
He doesn’t need that, my heart whispered. So, I bit my lip to keep it silent.
It was better this way.
I stared at him towering above me, half-naked with his erection hanging long and heavy against the front of his shorts. My sex clenched knowing that piece of him that had been inside of my mouth the other night was finally going to be inside of me.
With an adept flick of his wrist, his shorts slid to the floor, leaving his throbbing cock pointing directly at me.
“You know how many fucking times I’ve thought of this?” he rasped, tearing open the condom wrapper. “Especially since the day you fucking showed up here begging for it.”
I licked my lips.
“Christ,” he swore, wiping away the bead of liquid from his tip before sliding the condom on. “I shouldn’t be doing this.”
Climbing back onto the bed, I felt the tip of him brush against my entrance and he groaned into my collarbone.
“This might kill me, Priss,” he warned, pushing himself firmly against the opening of my sex, his head easily slipping just inside of me. “I swear to God you might kill me.”
I wanted to kiss the agonized expression off of his face. I tried to arch my hips but with no success; his body completely covered mine, weighing me down.
“Nick,” I whimpered. “This is killing me.”
I knew to expect pain—not just from being a virgin but because of my endometriosis. But if that pain came with him inside me, I’d take it any day over this torture.
I felt the strained rumble of his laugh reverberate against my chest before he pushed inside of me. My eyes shot open, but I saw nothing. All I could do was feel. And what I felt was nothing like I’d felt before with his fingers or his tongue. With those he’d claimed my body. With this, he took more. He took everything that felt broken inside me and made me feel whole.
“Fuck, I shouldn’t be the one taking this from you,” he said hoarsely, sliding an inch farther and then stopping—I assumed at the edge of my virginity.
It burned but I was too focused on the fullness to give much thought to the pain.
I turned his face to mine, searching through those tortured eyes. “No,” I said softly, trying to wriggle my hips closer to him, “you should be the one giving this to me.”
I felt the forced exhale of his breath before his mouth sank down on mine.
“I need you,” I cried against his warm conflicted kiss.
I needed him to understand. I needed him to know that I wasn’t fragile—I wasn’t always good and perfect.
“I need you to fuck me.” I almost came just from saying the words that I never uttered, but that’s how I felt. Deep down in the darkest parts of me were the wants—the needs—that I tried to cover up. There were the questionable decisions that could turn out wrong but could also turn out right. And that was just as much me as all the parts made up of rules and order and propriety. It was the part that felt safe with him. And, until now, I’d buried them because I was too afraid to take the risk. But no more.
“No rules,” he swore as he thrust his hips violently forward, slamming his cock all the way up to my womb and tearing down my virginity with it.
My mind fractured but not from the twinge of pain. In that moment, I became alive. Every rule exploded and every safe choice faded to black as my body finally took what it wanted; it took him. It took a chance. And for the first time, there was nothing left for me to hold back.
My fingers gripped into his back, needing him to move or do something. His face was contorted over me, a sheen of sweat glistening on his brow. He was trying to be gentle for me.
“Nick…” I moaned his name and I felt his body hum like a livewire ready to short-circuit. “I need—“
My plea was severed by his feral grunt as he gave in to what we both needed. Maybe I would realize that it hurt later, how his big cock stretched and filled me and made me bleed, but I loved it too much to even remember what pain was right now.
His balls smacked against me because he couldn’t go slow, slipping in and out as my desire made a mess all over his cock. He couldn’t do this in half measures.
“Fucking Christ,” he swore as his hips pounded into me, churning against my body that was rippling and seizing to draw him impossibly deeper.
The twinge was forgotten—just like the brief chill of the wind just before you launch yourself down the mountain or the momentary burn of whiskey before fire floods through your veins. He wasn’t taking it easy on me; I didn’t want him to. I wanted it hard and raw. Hot and cold. I wanted completion in chaos.
I wanted everything that was Nick Frost.
“Oh, Nick,” I chanted his name as he jammed all the way into me again. I wasn’t quiet. I couldn’t be. I gasped and moaned his name over and over, my head thrashing back and forth on the bed as my hips rose to meet every violent thrust that surely pushed him farther than he was meant to go.
“So tight, Tam. So much better than I imagined,” he growled against my neck, biting and sucking on the skin as his cock moved inside of me. “I can’t—” He broke off literally fighting for a breath. “I need you to come, Priss.”
I could hardly focus on his words. All I felt was the friction of him sliding in and out of me, our juices dripping down my body and onto the bed. Then, I lost s
ense of everything but the crystal clarity of him hitting that spot deep inside of me that arced electric pleasure to every cell in my body, spiraling me up and up and up.
So high.
No air.
“That’s it, Priss. Come for me…”
I screamed his name as my climax destroyed me, my body quaking in every direction like a fish being thrown out of water. I was suffocating in the air, pulling and begging for more. This pleasure was a small death that I would happily die over and over again, I thought as my body pulled him even deeper inside of me. Nick’s hands dug into my hips to hold them steady as he thrust into my clenching pussy one more time to find his release, roaring into the heavy silence.
He collapsed on top of me with a groan, both of us hot and sweaty from the frantic search for the answers between us. It wasn’t pretty. It certainly wasn’t perfect. But it was right.
I’d broken all the rules and still found something right.
“You’re alive,” I teased breathlessly.
I felt his smirk against my neck. “Only so that I can fuck you again.”
I DREW BLOOD FROM MY cheek, biting into it as I slipped my dick out of her warm, almost-painfully tight cunt.
“Don’t move,” I demanded as I saw her try to push herself up.
The red streaks on the condom looked like bright banners reminding me what I’d just done. I took this from her—like a fucking thief in the night. No. Like a fucking king who felt like it belonged to me. That’s why I took it—because I felt like she belonged to me. And I’d be damned if I let anyone else have this perfect, untouched piece of her.
I shouldn’t feel this way. Feeling this way meant that I was in over my head, way too fucking deep for someone who was already buried underneath so many layers of shit.
I’d been with a few virgins before—back in high school before I learned my lesson. But neither them, nor any of the other women I’d fucked even came close to this. Not the hours-long sex sessions, not the threesomes, not the fifty shades of dirty sex. None of them came close to the feeling of being with her.
The worst part was that I knew I was going to fuck it up. Because that’s what happens to the infamous Nick Frost. Somehow, the shit with my life would take her away from me. If it weren’t for Lila, I’d die before I let that happen. If it weren’t for Lila, I would have made her every fucking promise in the book to keep her. But my daughter came first, and that meant these moments were all Tammy and I could have.
My dick twitched as I pulled the condom off. I should have been gentle for her first time. But I was an asshole who needed to be inside of her so damn bad that at that point I couldn’t even see straight. And then, when she’d told me to fuck her, I lost it.
I wasn’t kidding though; whatever time we had before I had to push her away for her own safety, I was going to take it. Not just take it, I was going to fucking rewrite the stars to make those moments feel endless. This was the monster that she’d created in me. Once. Twice. Forever. Would never be enough. Not when she was this perfect. All prim and proper—except for me. For me, she was hungry and begging. She came to me like I had something to offer even when, to her knowledge, the only thing I could offer was myself and she made me feel like that was worth more than all the shitty baggage that consumed me.
She met me in the chaos. Thrust for thrust. Piece for piece.
Tossing the filled latex into the trash, I flicked on the sink and grabbed a washcloth, dampening it with warm water.
Like I’d asked, she hadn’t moved, still lying boneless on the bed where I’d left her, her eyes drifted shut. She looked like a fallen goddess, sprawled out, her hair creating a halo of waves around her head. Her chest rose and fell deeply, still covered by that stupid fucking bra—that would be the next thing to get rid of. And her pussy.
My cock jumped as I looked at the place that it wanted to call home. Still swollen and wet. I may have taken her too fucking rough for her first time, but I was going to make up for it.
“You awake?” I asked softly, my fingers lightly brushing on her thigh.
She moaned adorably and her eyes flitted open. “Mmhmm.”
“Good.” I knelt back between her thighs and gently pressed the cloth between them, wiping away the traces of her innocence.
“Are you alright?” I finally asked painfully, afraid to hear the answer. Yeah, her orgasm had sucked the cum right out of me, but that didn’t mean that I hadn’t hurt her at first.
“I think I’m better than okay,” she said with a soft rasp, her cheeks turning pink.
“Did I hurt you?” I bit out, my cloth-covered fingers gently delving between her folds.
“No.” Her head moved side to side in emphasis. “I barely felt… that. I mean… I felt you. How could I not feel you…”
I smiled, meeting her embarrassed gaze as that blush spread further over her skin.
“Did I do okay?” she murmured.
My body froze. “What do you mean?”
“Well… I know I was a virgin… And you didn’t want to… That virgins aren’t what you—” She broke off as my body covered hers. My fingers gripped her chin, tilting her pleasure-flushed face up to mine.
“That virgins aren’t what? What I want?” I asked, searching for the answers in her eyes. My hand slid up to cup the whole side of her face, my thumb rubbing back and forth over that plump lower lip that was going to be in my mouth in another thirty seconds.
“There is no ‘okay’ with you. There is exquisite. There is consuming. There is breathtaking. There is fucking mind-blowing. And even all of those only graze the surface of what just happened here. So no, you didn’t do ‘okay’ because that isn’t even in the realm of possibilities. There is nothing that can describe being with you because you are everything, Tamsin Lucas,” I insisted firmly as my gaze bored into hers. “Everything I could ever want.”
But everything that I can’t keep; it went unsaid between us.
My mouth drifted down to her sweet lips that tipped up eagerly to mine. “And now, I want to feel your everything again.”
She moaned my name again. Each time it felt like I’d won the lottery. Or the Olympics. Or the fucking Presidency. Each time, it felt like I’d won the only thing that mattered.
I should have ripped her bra, but I didn’t. Unhooking it, I drew it from her body, revealing her swollen tits and hard nipples that begged for attention. This time, I went so slowly that time was moving backward. Hands and mouth alternated between her rose-tipped tits. No matter where I touched or tasted, she smelled like the sweetest rosewater. It was her scent from the moment I met her.
Maybe one day, in a drunken stupor, I would tell her how I went to three different perfume shops in high school to try to figure out what the fuck scent she was.
She writhed underneath me, searching for another release, and fuck was I going to give it to her. And then give it to the both of us again. My dick was hard and ready to go the second I removed her bra, but it was going to wait.
“Please…” I loved it when she begged.
“What do you want, Tammy?” I rasped, biting her nipple.
“You.” Her hips arched against my thigh, rubbing her weeping cunt against my leg.
My hand skated down over her stomach to cup her pussy. “So perfect and wet, Priss. I shouldn’t be doing this to you,” I growled, slipping two fingers inside of her in search of her G-spot. “I should be giving you a break.”
“N-no. Please.” She gasped when I found it. “I don’t want… a break. I want you.” Inhale. “Hard.” Exhale. “Fast.” Inhale. “Everything.”
I felt her last moan all the way on the tips of my fingers inside of her.
“Jesus.” Black spots clouded my vision as my need to be inside her exploded. She was so hot and tight and fucking responsive. I wanted to fuck her for days. I wanted that breathless gasp of hers to be my alarm clock every morning and my bedtime story every night.
“Oh…my God… Nick. I c-can’t—” Her words
broke into a strained moan as I worked her G-spot and her clit.
“I shouldn’t fucking take you like this,” I growled. “But I can’t stop myself. I can’t get enough of you beautifully broken.” I pulled her nipple hard into my mouth and she exploded underneath my hand.
I didn’t let her come down because I needed her to come again. She cried as I stood to get another condom, but I barely heard it. I needed to be inside her again like I’d been holding my breath underwater for too long and the surface was finally in sight. I had the damn thing on before I made it back to the edge of the bed.
No words. No warning.
I spread her long, silken thighs, groaning at the sight of her wide-open soaking slit. I gripped my dick and rubbed the tip against her hot velvet pussy, clenching my teeth as pleasure ripped through me. She screamed when I slammed back into her and I just prayed it was with pleasure because my mind was too lost to think otherwise.
“Hang on,” I rasped, reaching around her back and hoisting her back up. Immediately, her legs wrapped around my waist and I sank deeper.
“What are you—”
“The door,” I growled. “You always look like you expect me to fuck you up against the door, so that’s what I’m going to do.”
As soon as her back hit the wood, I slammed into her over and over again like I was trying to break her in two. And maybe I was.
Maybe then I’d at least be able to keep a piece of her.
It didn’t matter that the hinges were essentially brand new, the door banged against the frame like I was trying to build it from scratch.
“You know how many times I’m going to do this to you?” I growled against her ear, feeling the tears that were streaming down her face as she begged me to go harder. “I’m going to have you so many times, Priss, that your pussy will be permanently imprinted with the shape of my cock.”
She whimpered and her nails dug into my shoulders.
“Only… yours…” she gutted me by whispering.
“Only.” Slam. “Fucking.” Slam. “Mine.” Slam.
“God, Nick!” she screamed like she was dying as her body squeezed around me.
The Winter Games Page 131