by Olivia Harp
Chapter 10
Julie
That man. She couldn't read him at all. One moment he was sweet and funny, the next he talked about fighting with people as if it was a good thing, the next he called his father a criminal.
She turned right on the corner and drove away from his building.
This know-it-all, this… Neanderthal… who did he think he was? Just because he fought with a bunch of guys back at the party he thought he could get away with anything?
Was he right? Was she making him beg? Was she being an asshole?
I mean… he did apologize.
She bit her lip, she had to get back home.
She wouldn't see him again. Not after tonight. She took his business card and looked at it. Remy Morgan, Financial Manager.
She had so many questions. What the hell was he doing at the party? How did he know Joseph Maori? Did he like art, like, at all?
"Damn it!" She said and turned back to his place.
She couldn't help it. The man was a mystery.
And he doesn't look half bad, either.
She rolled her eyes, unable to believe herself. She wasn't going to do anything, just talk and have a good time.
And the underwear you’re wearing is like, the worst, ever.
"Fucking hell," she said, trying to think of something else, trying to feel relieved she wasn't going to do anything.
But now she wasn't so sure.
***
The door opened and she was not ready for this.
Remy was brushing his teeth, his mouth full of foam. He had already changed to a pajama bottom and a loose tank top that practically advertised his chiseled, extremely ripped torso.
He was even hotter than she imagined. She had to cough to hide her surprise.
"Something's wrong?" He asked, taking his toothbrush out of his mouth.
She shook her head, trying to focus on something else, like breathing again —she hadn't even noticed she stopped doing so.
"Come in," he said, moving aside, letting her into his dimly lit apartment, "sorry for the mess, I've been a busy lately."
The dark hardwood floor and rustic decor gave it a really cozy look. She was more used to more modern, minimalistic designs, but this? This was special.
"You can leave your purse here," he said pointing at a small bar to her left, in the anteroom before really entering his apartment. In front of her was the kitchen, it wasn't small, or maybe it looked spacious because it only had the bare necessities.
To her right, a living room slash dining room, backed by three huge windows, to her left, three closed doors.
"I don't see any mess."
He turned left and opened the bathroom door, "let me just…"
She waited for him, looking around. There is no mess, what is he talking about?
He came out of the bathroom, wiping the last bits of toothpaste of his mouth.
"You took longer than I thought."
She rolled her eyes, "I was about to leave, but—"
"Glad you changed your mind," he said, going into the kitchen.
"So, tea?"
"Do you have a beer?"
"Anything for you," he said, opening the big fridge and taking one out.
"Here, last one."
He handed it to her and microwaved a cup of water. She walked to the windows, it was only ten floors up, but she always marveled at how beautiful the city looked at night.
She sipped her beer. It had been a while since she had one. All the big gatherings she went to offered wine… and only wine. Beer was apparently not cool enough for big art openings.
He stepped towards her, she could hear him moving behind.
"Who are you?" She asked, "you know who I am. Daughter of an entrepreneur."
He stood by her side, sipping his big cup. She looked up and realized how tall he was. He towered beside her in silence, sighing deeply.
"I'm a financial manager, I invest money and—"
He had taken off the gauze the doctor placed above his eyebrow. She could see the stitches, all seven of them. She shivered at the thought of Trey or one of his idiot friends doing that to him.
"And you're bored of the regular night life, so you just crash rich people's parties?"
He thought about it for a second.
"I guess you got me all figured out."
She leaned on the window, "same as you, right?"
He sighed.
"It was a joke. Didn't mean to hurt you. I'm an ass."
"I was angry, sorry. They got you bad, I should have known."
His body was covered in bruises, all red and purple and black, scratches on his arms and left side of his lower chest.
He took her hand and placed it in his torso, over a patch of heavily scraped skin.
"This is nothing," he said, his eyes fixed on hers.
He was strong, his skin burned hot, his muscles hard as steel. She moved her hand up on his chest, to his neck and arms, slowly, careful not to hurt him, then up to the side of his face, until she barely grazed the wound above his right eyebrow.
The light of the city reflected in his eyes. Deep green, his square jaw made him look like one of those old fashioned movie stars, or a brave knight from a fairy tale.
He kissed her hand. There was nothing left to say. She wanted him.
She wanted him from the moment she saw him. She wanted him badly enough to forget about everyone else and leave the party with a stranger.
Because he is a stranger.
But the attraction was magnetic. Even when she argued with him, she wanted to jump in his arms and let him take her. Let him do anything he wanted to her.
He kissed her arm, softly, bringing her closer to him. Her heart began to race. She would do it just this once and get it over with. This desire was too much to bear.
And the way he touched her.
He put his teacup on the windowsill and softly held her by the waist, kissing her shoulder now, her ragged breaths giving her away.
She came back for this. She came back for him. The man who put her in her place. She was tired of being the perfect, successful daughter of the richest man in town.
She wanted to be normal. Just like him. Hang around and talk about normal stuff and argue and make up.
His skin warmed her, his embrace was a little too perfect.
This man, this… hulking beast. She wanted him badly.
He kissed the base of her neck, sending shivers throughout her body, it was as if he could read her mind, going up slowly, biting and softly sucking her skin between each of his kisses, her body completely melted, surrendered to him.
Then his lips found her.
She closed her eyes, bathed in delight. It wasn't just the sensuality of the moment, it was the way his lips felt, how they opened and closed with hers, as if this was not the first but the hundredth time they kissed.
As if they knew each other for a long time. It was like going home.
Her tongue found his and they twisted, wrestled each other.
A moan escaped her and she was suddenly embarrassed. Nothing could have prepared her for this.
He brought her closer and kissed her for a second time. A longer kiss. Everything he did turned her on. She was his, this felt so intimate, like they were meant for each other.
She kept tightening her hands on his arms, as if trying to put a dent in his steel hard biceps. She wanted to explore every ridge on his back.
He kissed the other side of her neck, she was almost trembling now. He took the bottle of beer out of her hands and put it next to his cup.
She was pressed against the window, the outside world witness to their desire, and for the first time, she felt him.
His cock, hard and thick against her center.
This was getting dangerous. She'd mount him if this kept going on. I barely know him.
But she couldn't fool herself. She moaned again, louder this time, when his manhood pushed against her center, grinding against it in just
the right way.
It was like they were two pieces of a puzzle, and they fit together perfectly.
He held her hand against the glass, when he softly grabbed her hair and pulled back.
She was under his control, soaking wet, unable to do anything but keep going.
"I wanted you from the moment I saw you," he whispered.
She tried to look down, but he held her firmly, exposing a bit of her breasts, he kissed her slowly, then he let go of her hand and pulled down her dress, little by little. She was far too gone now.
He lifted her in one swift move, kissing her as she straddled him, feeling his shaft between her legs, getting lost in all the sensations that bathed her.
"Oh, God," she said, breathing loudly, bringing his face down to her chest again, burying it between her breasts, letting him take everything he wanted.
He undid her bra with one hand and threw it away, his warm lips moving slowly towards her nipples.
She needed him there, licking her, biting her, taking the last threads of sanity away from her.
She pressed harder and harder against his cock. Her nub rippled out waves of pleasure through every nerve in her body.
What the hell—
Yes. She could feel her orgasm building up, impossibly, only for doing this. No. She'd never been this easy to please. She'd always needed more time.
Ecstasy rippled from her center out, her thighs shivering, his shaft pressing against her slit beneath his pajamas.
"Fuck," he said, grinding her, losing control of himself.
Her fingers ran down his back, scratching it hard, she was lost in this moment.
He whirled around and brought her to his dinner table. The ridges in the mahogany welcomed her dearly. Her legs were still wrapped around him, she pulled her dress up, and for a second she remembered the big, ugly panties she wore.
He ripped them in two, exposing her center to him.
This man. This beast was about to see how wet she was. Drenched. Soaked in desire.
"I—" She tried to sit up, embarrassment filling her. But he licked the inner side of her thighs and that was enough for her to forget every social stigma attached to what she was about to do.
She lay flat, her arms going to her breasts, trying to hold back as he licked and kissed her legs, shying away from her center, moving slowly towards it, making her want him even more.
He got closer, his hot, wet tongue tasting her, her folds were dripping now, her ass getting soaked in her lust.
He reached her center, getting closer and closer to her core, but still, he would not kiss her there. He was teasing her so badly she was sure the moment he touched her nub she would explode.
She moaned loudly as he licked her lips, up and down, not yet going in. Each of his touches was bringing her closer to exploding. He was a beast. A sex god.
She yelled in desire. A loud, lustful yell. His tongue opened her folds and tasted her. He grazed her at first, her hands went down to the back of his head, trying to push him forward, but he resisted, he wasn't going to give her what she wanted. Not yet.
She felt him in her entrance, burying his tongue in it before going up and down, up and down, taking all of her juices in, barely grazing her spot.
"More…" She said, a yell caught in her throat, unable to control herself, "taste me!"
The wetness of his mouth covered her folds, little by little his tongue reached her clit and she closed her fingers, grabbing him by the hair and pulling him against her.
His tongue roamed and danced over and around her clit, her juices flowed like she never thought possible, her tattered breath telling him to keep going.
She couldn't stop yelling, lust was in control of her body. She trembled again and again, an electric sensation building rapidly on her center, she was about to finish.
He pressed his face against her slit, his tongue still rolling in the heart of her feminity, pressing it soft, then hard, then back down to taste her juices.
She exploded.
Her legs tightened around his head as her body shook against the table. The orgasm kept on going, and going, this was the hardest, longest one she ever had, and this man kept on taking it, drenching his face on it, taking it in his mouth.
She was silent now, her throat hurt a little, she yelled too hard. She loved that feeling. Being completely melted, depleted, taken away from reality and brought into a different, higher one. Heaven. Better than heaven.
She wasn't a virgin, no. But this might as well had been her first time.
It was the first time she experienced such pleasure, such intensity.
Remy sat on a chair, looking at her, biting his lip, not saying anything.
She looked at him, his green eyes still reflecting the dim light from the city outside. She could lose herself in them .
"Oh my God," he whispered, still breathing hard.
"What?" She asked.
He smiled and shrugged.
"Nothing, you're just too beautiful. I'm glad you came back."
She sighed and sat up, lowering her dress, the table warm with her own heat.
"We're not done here yet," she said, moving closer to him.
"You don't have to—"
"Shut up," she interrupted, sitting on the chair, straddling him again, "I'm not done with you yet."
"Oh, really?" He asked, a mischievous grin adorning his face, "What do you have in mind?"
She grabbed his hands and placed them behind the back of the chair, then moved down to feel his his shaft.
She couldn't believe how big it felt. His cock grinded on her center and it practically stimulated her whole slit.
"I want to taste you now," she said, pulling his pajamas down, and suddenly there it was.
She gulped. Holy crap.
It was bigger than she imagined. Much bigger. Thick and long and steel hard.
She bit her lip, not knowing how it would fit. But it was too late to stop, even if she wanted to. She wanted him to do anything he wanted to her, forever.
God, am I turning into a nympho? Nothing like that had ever even crossed her mind. The hairs in the back of her neck bristled. I can't tell whether I'm scared or excited to have him in me.
Remy moaned, she turned to look at him and realized her hand was already down there, holding his shaft. It was too big for her, she couldn't even completely close her hand around it.
"Holy—"
He moaned again, his hand racing to her hair, his eyes carrying an intensity she'd never seen before.
"Do you like it?" He asked, his voice like a knife in the dark, reaching her ears dangerously sensual.
It was as if they knew each other's secrets.
She nodded, still jerking him off, bringing his cock to her, pushing it against her skin.
His shaft ran from her waist up to her bellybutton.
"That's how much I'll fill you."
She quivered. She needed to kiss him again.
It was like living in slow motion. Everything ceased existing. His lips were soft and warm and welcoming, his hands pulled her closer to him, feeling her back from the neck down, then her ass, then her legs.
His rough skin collided with hers, almost hurting her. And she wanted more. She got lost in his embrace, their bodies fused—
No. Not yet fused.
She moaned and had to move away from him.
This was her last chance. His cock was even bigger now than a few seconds ago, hard in her hands. If she kept this going, she knew he would own her.
She couldn’t stop, she knew what she wanted even if she didn't dare to admit it. She brought his cock down, to her slit, wet once again, so soon after she finished.
He moved his center forward and his cock slid in her crease, drenching in her juices.
He didn't enter her. That wasn't his intention.
He wanted to feel every inch of her mound, she knew he was drunk with desire, but feeling him like that… it turned her into a wild beast, just like him.
"Take me," she whispered, "take me now."
His hands slid from her knees to her lower back.
He had the face of a warrior, his eyes like a predator’s.
And she was the prey.
Pleasure surged from her center like electricity, coursing through her body in waves, driving her mad.
She grabbed his cock and pulled herself forward, bringing it closer to her entrance.
The moment his tip touched her she was ready to finish, again.
The way he looks at me, oh God, I can’t… His cockhead grazed her entrance, deliciously warm.
"Say it," he ordered, "say fuck me."
She held on to him and began sitting on his rod when her cell phone went off, the lame ringtone she chose for it breaking the silence and filling the room with its annoying sound.
It took her a second or two to understand what was happening.
Suddenly, the realization of what she was doing dawned on her. She was about to have sex with him without protection, on the first day they met.
"Someone's calling you."
Awkward. She didn't know whether to ignore it and just finish what she was doing, or answer.
Finally, whoever was calling hung up. The room was silent again. But everything had changed. His face was different, it looked at her curiously, unlike a few minutes ago… he was no longer a sexually supercharged, testosterone fueled caveman.
Her phone went off again, the sound as grating as a drill in an early Sunday morning.
"Maybe you should answer it," he said, his cock still in her palm, rock hard and sticky with her juices.
They hung up again.
"It's fine. They can wait."
He sighed.
"Well…"
Was he thinking the same thing? Did they go too far? Does it matter, really?
She experienced something she'd never felt before. Something she didn't know really existed.
She had sex before, of course, and she had fun, how can you not. But holy crap, this was something else.
He grinned.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Come on, tell me."
He looked down, to her hand. It was still firmly grasping his manhood.
"Oh, sorry!"
She released him and moved back, drying them on the back of her dress, then fixed her hair. He pulled his pajamas up, his shaft still pretty visible beneath the thin layer of fabric.