“Just because you’re successful doesn’t mean that you’re necessarily happy, Chance.”
“No, it doesn’t. But it also doesn’t mean that I should run my mouth and bitch about it either.”
He finished his drink, and what I saw in his eyes was a wealth of confliction. This man was more complicated than I’d thought he was. I don’t think he was expecting to share so much with me, but sometimes talking with a stranger is like talking to a priest—you never know what you might say. Still, it was clear from his expression that he regretted revealing as much as he had.
“It’s weird sitting over here,” he said. “I’d rather sit next to you.”
And that was that—our conversation was over. But at least we’d talked. At least whatever happened between us now wouldn’t feel so cheap—or so rushed. At least I had an idea of the person I was about to sleep with. That counted for something. At least it did to me.
“Then why don’t you?” I asked.
When he stood, I was struck again by how tall he was. And how fit. His dark hair shined in the dim light, as did his light blue eyes. I thought the stubble on his face and the cleft in his chin would do me in. And then I saw the arousal in his pants, which set me on fire. It had been so long since I’d been with a man, I was at once frightened and turned on.
But mostly turned on.
As he came around the coffee table and sat next to me, I adjusted my black dress and pulled my hair away from my face. He took my drink out of my hand, placed it on the coffee table, and then traced his index finger along the curve of my jawline stopping just beneath my chin, which he gently lifted so he could kiss me on the lips with such passion, it almost took my breath away.
Instinctively, I met his kiss with a force of my own. He tasted of Scotch, and despite the ice that had been in his glass, his tongue felt warm and sexy in my mouth. When his left hand found the nape of my neck, he began to massage it in a slow, subtle way that made my nipples stiffen. I placed my hand on his inner thigh, and when I did, he covered it with his own and brushed it over his hardness.
And that’s all it took.
“Here or in the bedroom?” he asked.
“Here.”
“You can’t wait?”
“I don’t want to wait.”
“What do you want me to do to you, Abby?”
As I held his gaze with my own, my heart started to pound. “Why don’t you decide?”
“That’s too easy? What do you want me to do?”
“Maybe it’s more a question of what I want to do to you.”
That surprised him.
“And what’s that?”
“I want to remove your shirt.”
“That’s it?”
“No,” I said. “That’s just the start.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
My hands shook as I started to unbutton his shirt.
The fabric was thick and had been starched, but the buttons gave easily, and with each button I unfastened, I saw more of the deep concave in the center of his muscular chest. When his nipples came into view, they were small, light brown, erect. I continued down his torso until his thick, corded abs revealed themselves to me.
He was naturally hairless, and his skin was so smooth, it rivaled my own. I tugged on the fabric to release the shirttails from his pants, and when the last button slipped free between my fingertips, I started to pull the shirt over his shoulders.
But he stopped me.
“The cuffs,” he said. “My hands are too large to fit through them without undoing the buttons. You’ll need to unbutton the cuffs, or this shirt isn’t coming off. Do you want it off me, Abby?”
“I do.”
“Why?”
“Because I want you.”
“Why are you shaking?”
“Because I just don’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“Go home with strangers.”
“Are we still strangers?”
“Pretty much.”
“Even after our conversation?”
“Maybe not as much.”
“Your voice is unsteady.”
“Nothing about me is steady.”
“You’re rare, Abby.”
I didn’t know what he meant by that, or how to respond to it, so I said nothing.
“It’ll be fine,” he said close to my ear. “It’ll be wonderful. You’ll see. I can already sense it. Can’t you?”
I could, but I didn’t answer him. Instead, I reached for one of his hands to release him from his shirt, and was surprised when he closed his free hand over mine. In that moment, I swore that I could feel his heart thrumming in his palm. He was as excited as I was, but was he as nervous? It was difficult to tell. He seemed so calm to me. So confident and in control of the situation. He was the one who was driving this—I was just his willing passenger, still stunned that I’d been asked to go along for the ride.
Right now, I knew there was nothing I wouldn’t do for him.
“That’s right,” he said. “One button down. Now the other. Good. Now take hold of one of the cuffs. Perfect. So, here’s how I get out of this—I need you to pull on that cuff.”
I pulled, and he twisted his body so the fabric rolled off of him and the shirt came free—exposing the body of a god.
I tossed the shirt on the floor, and then his lips were on mine again, probing deep while I pressed my hands against his chest and started to explore what had been hidden from me just moments before. His skin felt like warm silk to me. He cupped my face in his hands, leaned into me, and kissed me harder. His lips moved down to my neck, and then to just above my breasts, which were heavy with anticipation.
“Would you like me to take off your dress?” he asked.
“Please.”
“I didn’t hear you….”
“Please take off my dress.”
“If you stood, it would be easier.”
I stood in front of him. “There’s no zipper,” I said. “It just slips over—”
“I know how to take off a dress, Abby.”
Of course you do. I’m sure you’ve taken off plenty. But why am I letting you take the lead here? Whatever happens should be even between us. It should be fun—isn’t that the point of a one-night stand? There should be a give and take, which will only make things more interesting. I need to get into the moment and enjoy this—not be frightened by it.
“Lift your arms,” he said.
It should be fun.
“Lift them for me, Abby.”
There should be a give and take.
“Come on.”
I looked down at him, causing my hair to spill over my shoulder. He glanced at it when it fell, and I saw the passion in his eyes.
“Say ‘please’,” I said.
He raised his eyebrows at me. “Please?”
“It’s an easy enough word.”
“It is.”
“So, use it.”
I watched him unsuccessfully try to suppress a grin. “This is new. And you’re no longer trembling.”
“Should I be?”
“I want you to be comfortable.”
“I’m getting there.”
“Apparently.”
“If you want to see my body and have your way with it, you’ll be saying ‘please’ to me all night.”
His eyes flashed at that. “Is that so?”
Never in my life had I been so brazen with a man, but since this was it for us, I felt that somehow there were no rules so long as we respected each other’s limits. A little role-play for each of us would lift our time together, and I had to admit that it felt liberating to be so bold with him, which wasn’t like me at all. Better yet, he seemed not only open to it, but into it, which only fueled my desire. “It is.”
“All right. Please lift your arms.”
“Say it like you mean it.”
“Would you please lift your arms for me, Abby?”
I did, and in an instant, my dress was a dark shadow toss
ed across the room. I stood in front of him in only my bra and panties. Each was pretty, feminine, and hemmed with lace—as if I had somehow planned for this to happen. As if somehow, I knew before I left my apartment that this was going to take place tonight, which was far from the case.
I was standing between his open legs when he spoke to me in a voice that was deeper than usual. “Remove your bra,” he said.
The atmosphere in the room shifted. Now he was taking the lead. Or was he?
“Why don’t you remove it yourself?” I asked.
With a swiftness that surprised me, he stood, and our bodies became so close that he nudged me against the coffee table. To right myself, I did what I had to do—I wrapped my hand around his back for support, which just drew us closer together, so much so that I could feel him pulsating against my thigh. Given the mischievous look in his eyes, I had to wonder whether he’d done it on purpose. But I decided that I didn’t care.
Before he removed my bra, he kissed me on the mouth. The rough stubble on his chin brushed against my cheek and caused me to gasp, particularly when he kissed me on the neck and then probed lower toward my breasts.
His tongue tasted me. His lips covered me. Low murmuring sounds came from his throat as he released my bra with a flick of his hand. I heard it hit the floor somewhere behind me, and then he bent his head and took one of my nipples into his mouth.
As he sucked on it, I moaned with each swirl of his tongue, which seemed to dance and dart over every nerve ending in an impossible cascade of sensations.
And then he stopped—just stopped—which took me aback. He looked up at me, our eyes met, and then he pressed his lips firmly against my ear. “I’m going to do something to you that no one has ever done to you, Abby.”
The heat of his voice and the softness of his lips against my ear were enough to weaken my knees. But I kept my voice firm. “How would you know what anyone has done to me?”
“Let’s just say it’s safe to assume that nobody has done this.”
“Because you think I’m inexperienced?”
“No. Because I think you’ve been with inexperienced men.”
“I’ve only been with two men.”
“Enough said, then. Now, let’s see if you can handle it.”
I had no idea what he had in mind, but the mystery of what was coming sent a thrill through me. At this point, I was nothing if not a hot mess inside, but I wanted to stay in character because I was having fun with him and sensed that he also was enjoying himself. So I kept my voice steady when I spoke. “You don’t know what I can handle.”
“You don’t know what I can do to you. I’m going to make you come, but not like you’d expect.”
What does that mean?
“So do it.”
Already, I felt as if my body couldn’t take much more, and yet, pathetically, we’d only just started. He smoothed his hands down the sides of my torso, and I writhed beneath his touch. My body was so alive, it felt like torture when he lightly touched his nipples against my own, and then began to rub his nipples against mine while he whispered obscene things to me.
What he was saying was too much. It was sensation overload. Again and again, his nipples flicked across my own. Again and again, he pushed me closer to an edge I didn’t know existed, but had only heard about from my girlfriends. But even this was more cutting than they’d ever shared with me. This was raw, primal, unexpected. His chin dipped down and once again, his stubble brushed against my exposed flesh, making me throw back my head in ecstasy.
“Please,” I said.
He didn’t respond. He just kept doing what he was doing. The same motions, over and over. Barely touching me, which not only seemed to be the point, but which also was the cruelest part. I wanted his hands on me, and I wanted him inside of me, but he seemed determined to deny me of that.
“When I fuck you, you’re not going to be able to take all of me,” he said. “And when you realize that you can’t, when you know that I’m too large for you, that’s when the fighter in you will want to prove me wrong. I can’t wait for that to happen, Abby. Because when it does, you’ll experience something like you’ve never experienced before. It will feel like your first time.”
With those words alone, I closed my eyes and came so intensely that it wracked my body to the point that I cried out and shook involuntarily, even when the orgasm was over.
Breathless, I looked him in the eyes and saw that he was watching me. When he whispered into my ear again, he lowered a hand between my legs, placed it against my inner thigh, and when he told me exactly how he was going to fuck me, another orgasm struck.
I couldn’t believe what was happening to me. Throughout all of this, he’d barely touched me. All of this was beyond what I expected. And he was right—I’d never experienced anything like it before.
But he had more in mind.
His hand went to my panties, and he hooked his fingers inside and moved them across the band as he intentionally touched my clitoris and pushed my panties down so I could step out of them. When I did, I fell into his arms just as one of his fingers slid inside of me. And then another. And finally another. I felt so full, I dug my fingernails into his back because I wanted him to feel what I felt as he rhythmically began to stroke me.
“It’s too much,” I said.
“If this is too much, then you’ll never be able to take me. Lose control of yourself, Abby. Let yourself go. Open yourself up to me. It’s the only way.”
“I’m trying.”
“Not hard enough.”
“Take me to the bedroom.”
With ease, he lifted me into his arms and carried me into the dimly lit room. His fingers were still inside of me when he laid me down onto the bed. But then he removed himself from me and took off his pants and his boxers.
When he knelt down and penetrated me with his tongue, he began to search, lick, taste. Over and over in my head, I kept thinking that I never thought that it could be like this—that this was something that must be happening to another person—because in my life? At my age? And given how I’d been raised? It sure as hell hadn’t happened to me yet.
But it is now.
So, it was.
I lowered my legs, wrapped them around his back, and urged him up toward me.
“You’re not ready,” he said.
“I am.”
“No, you’re not. I’m telling you that you’re not.”
“Just fuck me,” I said. “If you feel you need to be gentle at first, then be gentle. But once I’ve accommodated you, I want you to be rough with me. This is our first and last time together—”
“I wish you wouldn’t keep saying that.”
“It’s true. We both know it is, and there’s no shame in it. I want to leave here knowing what it’s like to be with a man, not a boy. I want you to take me hard, and I want to walk away knowing that I never once held back. So, make love to me as if you do love me, Chance. Give me that illusion. You know I’m not attached to you, so you’re free to do with me what you want. Just promise me that you’ll make love to me as if you are crazy about me. Pretend that you want to prove that to me. Make me feel something that I’ve never felt before. You’ve already done that twice tonight—now, please, do it again.”
And so he did.
With one quick motion, he lifted my hips and pressed the head of his cock against my wetness. I reached down to grasp him, and in an instant, I realized his concern. He was larger and thicker than I’d expected, but I was damned if I was going to let that intimidate me. Slowly, I pulled him toward me, just so the head of his penis slipped inside of me, which was enough. For a moment, we remained still—and then he went deeper, his girth making me catch my breath.
“Abby—”
“Give me more.” I swung my legs to wrap around his buttocks, and bit down hard on my bottom lip when he began to push inside of me. It was painful, but it was a wonderful kind of pain. I could feel his desire coming off him in waves, and I kne
w that he could feel my own as I tightened myself around him. I felt myself grow wetter. I reached out for the sheets and pulled them toward me. And then, without warning, he took me by surprise and buried himself inside of me.
My back lifted off the bed.
He leaned down and met my lips with his own, swallowing my scream as I struggled to take all of him. What in the hell did he have down there? I could feel him pulsing inside of me with an energy that was so heated, it was enough to make me forget about the pain and lose myself in it.
When I was ready for him, I moved my hips to indicate that I wanted him to start thrusting.
As he did, I met each of his thrusts with my own. I reached my hand around his neck while he took me with the fierceness that I’d begged for. With each thrust, I felt as if I was coming alive in ways that I hadn’t felt… ever. No man had ever made me feel so complete. No man had ever made love to me like this.
Each time he drove into me, I felt myself open to him in ways that I’d never opened myself to another man. What I felt was a mixture of pressure and pure bliss. Toward the end, just as I was approaching my third climax of the evening, I started to buck against him as he rammed even harder into me. And then came the unexpected groans of his own pleasure, which thrilled me to my core.
“Come for me,” he said.
I was in the ether, and it had no connection to reality. He held my hands at my sides, pinned me down onto the bed, and then lowered his head to one of my nipples. When he sucked it into his mouth and pressed his tongue against it—and fluttered against it—that was it for me.
The orgasm that overcame me was unparalleled, perhaps because he himself had fallen on top of me as he shot inside of me. I gripped him by the back of his head, but he needed no encouragement from me. Almost immediately, his lips were on mine. As he throbbed inside of me, he held me and kissed me. And then he completed the illusion of our lovemaking when he said in my ear that he never wanted me to leave.
Chance (The One More Night Series) Page 5