Pulled Under

by Sarah Darlington

  Her cotton pajamas were barely a hindrance. And as I kissed her and ran my hands over her body—her sexy-as-hell, totally-out-of-my-league body—I knew I should slow down right the fuck now…but couldn’t. I couldn’t even attempt to try. A second later, I had her up in my arms with her legs wrapped around my waist, and her back pressed to the wall she’d been leaning against a moment ago. I needed that wall for support and for what was coming next. I tugged the front of my gym shorts down just enough to let my cock free from its captivity. If I’d thought I’d been in some kind of pain before…man, was I ever now.

  I had to be inside her.

  Now.

  No hesitation.

  No going back.

  No fucking around.

  Her shorts were loose and easily moved to the side. Her panties pushed aside too. With her legs already spread wide against me, what happened next came automatic. The second she was exposed to me, I guided my bare cock deep inside her. She moaned into my mouth as this happened, accepting it, accepting me, and she even squeezed her arms tighter around my neck. There was nothing gentle about the way I entered her either. Most of the time, no matter the girl, the first push inside would always take a little work. With Sydney, despite knowing this was only her second time having sex, despite knowing I might be hurting her, I couldn’t hold myself back.

  My thrust was powerful, punishing. And once I was in, my relentlessness only grew. Because I could tell, even if there was some pain going on for her, that she wanted this and was enjoying this just as much as I was. For starters, she was wet—seriously wet—and completely open to me. Her grip on my neck and shoulders was anything but kind. Yet, the kisses she kept planting on the side of my face, up to my ear, and down my neck, were sweet in contrast to the roughness of everything else. And the noises she made with each thrust—the cutest little grunts of pleasure I’d ever heard—only made me crazier and the blood pump harder through my veins.

  Only problem…we were fucking in an open hallway. Granted it was the middle of the night, but this just wouldn’t do. I couldn’t have some random person coming out of their room and seeing her like this. So as intense and as perfect as this was right here against this wall, I had to move us.

  There was a small room with an ice machine not far. I remembered passing it earlier. Since my room and her room weren’t available options…that would have to do.

  Oh, holy shit. She groaned in protest when I started to move her, pushing off from the wall, clutching her ass tightly to keep her right there against me, and walking down the hall. I made it to the small room and closed a door that could swing both ways behind us. Now that we had a small fraction of privacy, I stood in the middle of that room, the hum of the ice machine filling my ears, still buried as deep as I could go inside the girl I wanted more than anything in life, and focused on kissing her properly. I’d been rough and hasty out in the hallway a moment ago. As amazing as sex was with Sydney, kissing her wasn’t a part I wanted to rush. We had so much chemistry and such a connection when we kissed—something I’d never experienced on this kind of level with another person—that I felt I needed a moment to slow down and backtrack before we finished this thing.

  Which was exactly what I did. Holding her in my arms, my lips moved softly, savoring everything, against hers. This was slow and gentle and passionate. And she seemed to understand exactly what I needed and matched my pace perfectly, not rushing to get back to the hardcore stuff. Because being with Sydney wasn’t about the fastest way to get off inside her, it was about so much more. A calm in the middle of the storm…that was what this was.

  Then, just before I started moving inside her again, as that urge was becoming overwhelmingly hard to fight, and the need to finish what we’d started was tempting the hell out of me, I felt her come. Hard too. The soft walls of her pussy had my cock surrounded like a fucking glove and they started to pulse, squeezing me with unexpected strength. She was having one hell of an orgasm, out of nowhere, and I felt every bit of it. She broke our kiss, tipped her head back, and cried out my name. I must have brought her close to coming when we’d been fucking out in the hallway, that had to be why she’d protested so much when I moved her, and our kiss must have pushed her over the edge.

  Sweet Jesus!

  Making this girl come was the hottest thing I’d ever experienced in my life.

  As she rode out her orgasm, grinding against me now and clutching my shoulders with all her strength, I’d never felt so powerful. In this moment everything made sense. All this time I’d been waiting for her, all the torture she’d put me through—it was all going to be worth it in the end when I would be the man to make her come like this every night of her life.

  A second later, existential thoughts aside, I came myself. There was no fighting it. I barely had a moment to breathe, pulling out and setting her down so her feet touched solid ground, before I exploded. Exhilaration rushed through me, and I held her so I wouldn’t fall over.

  As the moment faded and passed, my senses suddenly felt over-exposed. The ringing of the ice machine was so damn annoying, the florescent lights were burning my eyes, the room smelled like bleach, and my skin felt like it was crawling. I think this new awareness boiled down to fear. We’d just experienced something great. But the last time I experienced something great with her everything turned to shit so fast I barely had time to keep up. How would she react this time?

  I couldn’t speak. As our eyes connected and I let go of her body, I felt a flush hit my skin. I was nervous. I was nauseous. I was terrified.

  “That was so embarrassing,” she said, breaking the silence first.

  I cleared my throat. “What was?” I didn’t know if she meant the whole thing or one part in particular. I glanced down and noticed that in my hastiness to pull out of her, I’d come on her. Fuck me. Now that was fucking embarrassing. I yanked off my shirt, and used it to quickly wipe the evidence of it away.

  “I’m on birth control now,” she whispered as I did this. “You didn’t have to…um…you could have…you know…”

  “Gone inside you?” I finished.

  “Yeah.” Crimson hit her cheeks. “I wouldn’t have minded.”

  “You wouldn’t have minded?” I repeated slowly, just to be sure I’d heard her correctly.

  “Yeah. I mean, as long as it was safe for you to go inside me then you could have. Assuming…assuming you don’t have anything.” She bit her lip, groaned, and looked away from me. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that. That was rude.”

  I hooked a finger under her chin to guide her eyes back to mine. “You can ask me whatever. I’ll always answer honestly. But no. I’m clean. I haven’t been with anyone since you.”

  “Oh,” she uttered, staring up at me.

  “What part was embarrassing?” I questioned, needing to know exactly what she meant earlier. “When I came on you?”

  “No,” she said quickly. “When I came while you were kissing me.”

  The biggest smile hit my lips. She was so damn adorable. This wasn’t an easy conversation to have, but I loved that we were having it. “But that was the best part,” I answered, instantly losing my nerves and fear from a minute ago. “You’re the sexiest woman in the world, Sydney. That was so fucking hot. You have no idea. I’m still thinking about.”

  “Yeah,” she whispered, something of a smile crossed her face now.

  “Yeah,” I repeated.

  “Then,” she said, instantly turning coy on me and tracing her fingers in the most tantalizing way across my naked chest. “Can we do that again? Please? I wasn’t ready for it to be over.”

  Oh hell yes. We could do that again. We could do that as many times as she could handle. “Come here, sweetheart,” I said, drawing her close. “We can do whatever you want.”

  CHAPTER 13:

  SYDNEY

  Rhett entered me from behind. I’d awoken something fierce and controlling, but also protective and kind in him. And I absolutely loved it. This time he’d rem
oved my shorts and underwear, something he did very slowly with lots of kisses in lots of new places, and he’d instructed me to stand as I was—my legs in a wide stance and my hands gripping on an exposed pipe in the corner of this random room we were in. “You’ll need it for support,” he’d told me, squeezing both of my ass cheeks playfully.

  And I might have been completely freaked out of my mind by what was about to happen, but he was talking me through every moment of it, and for some strange reason the trust I had in him kept growing. “It’ll feel deeper this way,” he told me, leaning over my back, trailing his finger across my stomach and then up to my breasts. He squeezed and tugged gently at my nipples.

  “Deeper sounds good,” I panted.

  “And I’m going to come inside you.” He nibbled lightly at my ear.

  “Okay,” I breathed.

  He was already inside of me, but he wasn’t moving. I couldn’t believe the way things had suddenly changed today with Rhett. When I started the day, never in a million years would I have guessed I’d be ending it this way. But I was. I’d jumped straight into the deep end with him and there was no going back now.

  “Spread your legs a little wider,” he instructed next.

  Swallowing hard, I did as he asked. I could feel every inch of him inside me, and I only felt him more as I moved. My breathing was so loud and my clit was thumping so wildly, I was scared I was going to come again before he had the chance to really do anything. He moved his hands from under my shirt, downward. I wanted him to touch one spot in particular, the one spot that was screaming for him, but he didn’t touch me there. Instead he placed one of his hands on the wall by the pipe and the other he kept wrapped around my stomach.

  He was bracing himself.

  “Rhett,” I begged. “You have to move.”

  “I’m the only one who has ever been inside you. Right, Sydney?” he asked, his voice hoarse and strained. “The only one who has ever made you come?”

  “Yes,” I said. Where was this going? “You’re the only one.”

  “Good. That’s how I always want it to be,” he told me and he finally moved.

  He was right—it felt so much deeper from behind. I expected him to be rough and forceful, especially given the way he’d been ordering me around a moment ago, but he moved carefully and slowly. And the feel of him sliding in and out, filling me, stretching me, was so…complete. It was more than my body’s physical reaction to him, though. The emotional connection I felt with him was the most intense, most euphoric thing ever. I loved how much closer it brought us. I tried to twist around because I needed to see him. Which was a dangerous maneuver because I ended up on the floor instead.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said, reaching to help me up.

  But I wasn’t. Laughing at us, I yanked his hand and pulled him to the ground with me. And that was where we finished. Moments later, with Rhett buried deep inside me, I was coming for him all over again. A girl could get used to this sort of attention from a man. As the waves rocked through me, his fingers touched and traced and teased—first my clit and then my breasts. He was an expert in every way at this sort of thing. A wonderful tingling feeling lingered for several long moments after that initial high. And then Rhett followed me over the edge.

  For the first time ever, I finally got to see the look on his face as it happened, as he let go and he came inside me. It was an amazing sight to behold, especially knowing I’d been the one to bring him to this point. It made me feel desired and sexy and so very wanton. I think I was falling for this man. But this moment also brought out something else in me—jealousy. I couldn’t help but wonder how many other girls had felt this very same way with him. The thought nearly ruined the moment. Nearly, but not fully.

  * * *

  An hour or two had passed. Rhett and I were sitting on the cold tile floor, all our clothes back on, talking about the most random things, while eating ice cubes from the ice machine. This was the least stressed I’d felt in months. “Tell me more about your mom,” I probed. He’d mentioned a minute ago that he grew up with only her, but he hadn’t gone any deeper than that.

  “Well,” Rhett said, grabbing another piece of ice from the Styrofoam cup I had in my hand and popping it into his mouth. “She’s a lot like me, I guess. Outgoing. Fun. Where do you think my good looks and all this charm come from?” He winked at me.

  “Don’t make me dump this cup of ice on your head,” I threatened, playing around, pretending to raise the cup. He was so full of himself sometimes. It was ridiculous.

  “Give me the ice,” he demanded, laughing. “You would dump that on my head, wouldn’t you? I know you would. In a heartbeat too, if I gave you the chance.”

  “No, I wouldn’t. Don’t change the subject.” I brought the cup in close against my chest. “Keep going. I want to know more about you.” I’d purposely kept everything surface-level with Rhett during our ‘one-night stand’ night months ago. It was hard to say what had changed since then, but I wanted to know more this time.

  “Well, unlike you—obviously, judging by your big-ass house—I grew up in a trailer. My mom worked double shifts at two different waitressing jobs just to support us.” He spoke fast at first, but slowed down as he continued on. “My dad took off when I was little, but she never acted like it bothered her. She’s the strongest person I know. I might not have had the greatest home growing up, but I never went without stuff. I wore the same brands as other kids at school. I played sports. Had all the right equipment for that. And my mom always made sure I kept up with my guitar lessons. I was always the priority.” He sighed. “Anyway, I finally got the chance to return the favor and helped get her out of that damn trailer two years ago. She lives in a small single family house now and has a receptionist job where she’s no longer on her feet all day, so I worry less about her.”

  “By helping, you mean you helped pay for her house?” I swallowed as I asked this, my heart beating a little faster for some random reason. I already knew the answer to my question. Yes. Maybe the rest of world saw something else when they looked at Rhett, but all I saw was this amazing, handsome, genuinely nice guy.

  “Yeah,” he answered. “I can pull in decent money as a bartender, especially in the summer. So I help her out when I can. It’s the least I can do.”

  We were both quiet for a minute. I thought of John’s perceived pregnancy scare after I lost my virginity to Rhett, the whole reason I was now on birth control, and the way he’d called Rhett’s future children ‘Satan’s spawn’. I’d never considered it before this moment, nor had I ever seen Rhett around kids, but I knew he would make a good father one day. The way he spoke about his mother—protective and admiring—it told me that he would. Not that I was considering having his babies, obviously, but the thought popped into my head just the same.

  “Sorry about my ‘big-ass house’ comment. That was unnecessary,” he added.

  “Well, I do have a big-ass house. So I’m not really offended.”

  “Okay…I told you about my mom, so how about you tell me about your family now? All I know is that you live with your brother. And you mentioned the house was your grandfather’s.” He paused for a moment. “Wait. Are your parents still alive?” His voice lowered as he asked, like he was afraid to ask, but they were both very much alive so there was no need to tread carefully.

  “My parents are alive. Hell, if you saw my mother you’d probably try to hit on her.” I laughed, but it really wasn’t funny. “I only mean that she looks young enough to be my sister,” I corrected. “I don’t really know what else to say about them. Not much to tell. They’re rich. They act like it, too. They like to live the hell out of life, as long as it’s according to their standards. And they go on vacations most people only dream about. That’s about it.”

  He made this ‘hmm’ sound, like he suddenly had a strong opinion about my parents.

  “What?” I questioned, a little defensively.

  “That sounded like half the story. You liv
e with your brother—why?”

  This part was where it always got too difficult to talk about. The room suddenly grew cold, and I became uncomfortable. I set down the cup and rubbed my hands over my arms to shake off the feeling. Nobody wanted to hear about the ‘oh-so-hard-life-of-the-privileged’. Which was part of the reason John never let people know we came from money. And the reason I avoided bringing up my parents in conversation. “Because I like North Carolina,” I tried.

  He didn’t buy it. Instead he groaned, running his hands over his head. “Now I’m assuming the shittiest of scenarios, Sydney.” His voice was pained and hoarse—all for me.

  “Don’t. Living with my parents was fine. I just chose to live with my brother instead. No big deal. Don’t assume the worst like that. But—” For once, I actually wanted to tell someone more about my life. And I wanted him to know the truth rather than having him jump to the worst conclusions. Grabbing his hand, I laced our fingers together and told him something I’d never voiced to anyone other than my brother. “You said you were always your mom’s priority. It wasn’t the same for me. I was never a priority. All the vacations and all the parties and all the bullshit in life—all of that always came first. Never feeling good enough was a constant in my life growing up. Because it didn’t matter how well I did in school or how hard I tried to please them, they still never saw me. Only recently, now that I’m an adult, my mom has started making room for me in her life. So I moved in with John my freshman year of high school, and that was the best decision I’ve ever made.”

  He had no comment, or joke, or usual Rhett-ism to follow up my confession. All he did was squeeze my hand a little tighter, then he stood, pulling me up to my feet along with him. At that moment, a man in a suit entered the ice room. He went straight to the machine, ignoring us. Someone else awake had to mean it was getting close to morning. Wow. That meant I’d spent the entire night up with Rhett.