by Lynne, Donya
Hitting The Spot
A Forbidden Flowers Story
Donya Lynne
Hitting the Spot©
Forbidden Flowers, book 6
Published by Phoenix Press LLC
Copyright 2020 Donya Lynne
Cover by Megyn Ward, MW Designs
ISBN: 978-1-938991-54-7
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to others. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at [email protected].
References to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.
Created with Vellum
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Books by Donya Lynne
Find Me
Chapter One
Dr. O’s Office . . .
“I’ve never had an orgasm during sex.”
As a psychologist specializing in women’s sexuality, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard a woman say those exact words. For nearly two decades, one woman after another has sat on my couch as a patient, an interview subject for one of my books, or a friend and told me that a man has never been able to make her come during sex.
Of course, most women think their lack of sexual fireworks is their fault. And while the reason for their inability to climax is sometimes due to their own mental insecurities or preconceived beliefs, a lot of times it’s not, and I prefer to remove blame from the equation.
For some women, the solution is in reprogramming the way she thinks not just about herself, but how she feels about sex, as well as sex itself. For others, fixing their climax deficit is about educating her and her partner on how to have sex.
How to have sex? you might be asking. “Doesn’t the guy just stick it in and thrust a lot until he comes, and if the woman is lucky enough to come, too, that’s it?”
Unfortunately, a lot of people think that’s all sex is. The man is perceived to be in control, and the woman is just along for the ride, at best, or, at worst, an inactive participant. And too many women accept that as their role. Too many women also don’t understand that they can educate themselves about a man’s sexual anatomy to make his erection work for her instead of the other way around.
Like my next interview subject.
Emma just turned twenty-nine, works as the personal assistant to one of the most powerful men in the country, Harrison Devereaux—whose girlfriend I also interviewed for this project, ironically enough—and, until last December, had never had an orgasm during sex.
“I’ve known Theo for two years,” Emma says, “but I never thought he was into me.”
“Why not?”
She shrugs and brushes back her long blond hair. “He just always seemed to have other women around him all the time. All of us would go out to the clubs, and women just sort of glommed on to him. I figured he was into them and not me.”
“Did he ever go out with any of them?” I ask.
“I assumed he did, but I never asked.”
“Are the two of you still together?”
She smiles and casts her eyes downward as her cheeks turn pink. “Yes.”
“And you still haven’t asked him?”
Emma shakes her head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. I guess because it doesn’t seem important anymore. He’s with me now, and we’re in a really good place. What happened before—who he dated before he and I got together—seems inconsequential.” She pauses and crosses one long slender leg over the other. “And, really, I would rather not know. He doesn’t ask me about the men I dated before him, so why go stirring up trouble?”
“Fair enough.” I glance at the questionnaire she filled out for me. “So, let’s get back to Cabo.”
Last December, Emma, her older sister Trina, and her younger sister Abby went to Cabo for the holidays with Trina’s fiancé Kevin and his friends Theo and Brandon. Theo’s family own a beach house in Cabo, so the six of them stayed there.
Emma draws in her breath as her face flushes crimson. “Yes, Cabo.” She says it like it’s the most magical place on earth. “Do you want me to tell you what happened now? Between Theo and me?”
She’s eager to relay her story about the big moment and how Theo managed to bring out of her something no other man ever had, but I like a little background first. A bit of setup so I can put the sexual experience in context and tell a story around it in my book.
“Why don’t you back up a bit and give me a framework for how events unfolded.”
She nods. “Okay.”
I check my recorder and sit back with my legal pad propped on my lap.
“I think it was that first full day in Cabo when things changed for me,” she says, her eyes growing pensive and distant. “We were all pretty jet lagged and went to the beach. The guys ended up catching their second wind and joined up with three other guys to play volleyball, but my sisters and I lounged under a pair of large umbrellas, sipping daiquiris, watching them play.
“I’d been attracted to Theo for months, but that day was the first time I realized just how attractive he was.” She drops her gaze and smiles to herself before looking back up. “Of course, he was about to become even hotter. I had no idea at the time just how drastically things were about to change between us. Everything I thought I knew about Theo was on the verge of being blown apart. I just didn’t know it yet.”
Chapter Two
Emma’s Story . . .
Emma had secretly held a flame for Theo since she met him last summer at her sister’s Fourth of July barbecue. She had still been dating her ex, Chad, at the time, but she hadn’t been able to stop sneaking peeks at Theo all evening.
Theo was best friends with Trina’s fiancé Kevin, so Emma had heard his name before, but she’d never met him. She hadn’t expected him to be so handsome. Thick black hair, mesmerizing smile, and hazel eyes that blended from a yellowish tawny brown around the irises to greenish gray rimmed in forest green. Talk about a hypnotic gaze. Emma could have stared into Theo’s eyes all night.
But as alluring as he’d been on the Fourth of July, Theo was breathtaking now. She actually caught her breath as she watched Theo pull off his white tank top and toss it in the sand between volleyball games, giving Emma a whole new perspective of the wealthy heir.
Theo was ripped. Sculpted arms, striated pecs that rippled deliciously every time he spiked the ball, and a long lean torso carved by Odin’s lightning bolt for all the thunder his six-pack abs were sending through her insides.
Her sisters, Trina and Abby, didn’t seem to notice. They were giggling about Trina’s latest sexcapade with her fiancé. She and Kevin had apparently had sex during the flight from North Carolina to Cabo.
Emma wasn’t paying much attention to the details. She was too busy staring at Theo’s tan, sweat-glistened skin, her breath hitching quietly when he brushed back his wavy black hair with one hand as he laughed at something Kevin said after scoring a point. He had great teeth. Perfect and straight. She wouldn’t mind feeling those teeth scrape the side of her neck. Or maybe her nipple. Or her thigh.
“What about Marcus?” Emma interjected, tearing her gaze from Theo long enough to throw Trina a playful, jabbing glance.
Trina’s face pinched like she had just bitten into a sour pickle.
Emma enjoyed teasing Trina about Marcus, a senior jock she had dated for about five minutes her junior year. Just long enough to lose her virginity. “The most painful two minutes of my life,” she had said of the experience afterward. Apparently, Marcus had been a bit of a Thoroughbred, all muscle and speed, not even slowing down long enough to let Trina adjust to his cock invasion and catch up before he blew past the finish line.
Trina waved off Emma’s reminder of the past. “Marcus shmarcus. Kevin is so much better than that amateur.”
“He’d better be. You’re marrying him.”
Kevin had popped the question at Thanksgiving. They’d set the date for next September. Nine more months, and Trina would officially be off the market. Something Abby had been shooting for with her boyfriend until they broke up last spring. Abby and Nate had dated for two years. Everyone had been so sure they would make it down the aisle, so when Abby announced their breakup on Facebook in April, no one believed her until she confirmed face to face that, yes, she and Nate were through.
Trina and Kevin, on the other hand? Nobody had thought they’d stood a chance.
Just went to show, you could never judge a book by its cover.
Abby and Nate’s relationship had been like a beautiful dress that looked like the perfect fit on the hanger, but then you put it on and the armpits were too tight, the fabric made you itch, and the plunging neckline was more like a J-Lo’esque deep dive to your belly button that screamed wardrobe malfunction!
On the other hand, Trina and Kevin were like nineties grunge mixed with couch potato chic. Oversize, ripped sweatpants that hung too low, an old flannel shirt that was missing a button and had frayed sleeves worn over a stretched Hanes tee, and dirt-stained sneakers with worn soles. The combination looked hideously wrong, but it was so comfortable, you never wanted to take it off.
What woman didn’t want a relationship like that?
Trina dove back into her story about the plane sex. “He made me come so hard I almost couldn’t walk back to my seat.” She fanned herself, pretending to swoon. “I swear I would go into withdrawal if he ever left me.”
“Nate was like that,” Abby said with no sign of regret or sadness. She had mourned the end of that relationship months ago and was ready to move on. “He was so good at oral sex that the first time he went down on me, I came in less than ten seconds.”
“Wow, really?” Trina said, aghast.
Abby nodded almost proudly. “He got me so hot before he finally put his mouth on me that I started coming the moment his lips passed over my clit. All he did was breathe on it, and I was a goner.”
“Okay, now I’m jealous.” Trina leaned back and glanced toward her man on the volleyball court. “Kevin’s good, but he’s never made me come in ten seconds.”
Abby swirled her straw in her daiquiri. “And that was just what he could do with his mouth. Nate was even more amazing during sex.” She placed her fingertips on her sternum. “I mean, I’ve never been one to have multiple orgasms, but with Nate they just happened. Seriously, there were times when we’d be having sex and I couldn’t stop coming. He could even make me squirt.”
“Squirt? Wow, really?” Trina appeared impressed. “Now I’m really jealous.”
Were her sisters talking in code, or should Emma have known what squirting was?
“Squirt?” she said, glancing back and forth between them.
Abby gave her a look like she was surprised Emma wasn’t familiar with the term. “You don’t know what squirting is?”
Emma shook her head. If it had anything to do with having an orgasm during sex, which it sounded like it did, she most certainly did not know about it.
Abby flashed her a wicked grin as she grabbed her phone, quickly typed out a search, then handed it to Emma.
Her mouth fell open as she came face to . . . well, not face . . . with GIFs of naked women shooting streams of clear liquid out their vaginas like they’d turned into sexual fountains. Some were masturbating with dildos and vibrators, while others were with men, being penetrated by long hard cocks or a handful of fingers. All appeared to be in the throes of intense pleasure.
Emma blinked, unable to tear her eyes away. “Are they . . . peeing?”
Abby and Trina laughed as Abby took back her phone. “No, they’re not peeing. They’re coming.”
“But . . .?”
“Women can ejaculate too,” Abby said, like that should have been common knowledge. “It’s just harder for us than it is for men.” She dreamily rolled her eyes as if remembering what it had felt like to squirt with Nate. “But when it happens, it’s so good. Better than a regular orgasm. Stronger. More intense. Like the tips of your toes are going to blow off, or your skin is going to catch on fire, but in the very best way.” She sighed pensively, as if she were regretting just a little bit that she’d broken up with him. “Nate’s the only man who’s ever been able to do that to me. I think it had something to do with the shape of his penis.” She held up her finger and crooked it slightly into a shallow curve. “His erection curved upward, like a banana.”
“Curved?” Trina made a face like she had never heard of such a thing. “And it didn’t hurt?”
Abby cocked her head, her brow screwing into a get-real frown. “Did you not just hear what I said, Treen? The guy was a sex god. I squirted, for chrissake.”
“I just figured a curved penis would be uncomfortable.”
“Uh, no.” Abby slashed her hand dramatically through the air as if she were chopping the head off that fallacy right now. “There was definitely no discomfort. In fact, the sex was so good that I put off breaking up with him. Seriously, the sex was honest to God that good, or I would have ended our relationship sooner. I mean, damn, I really did go into withdrawal after we broke up. Not because I missed him, but because I missed all the fabulous orgasms he gave me.”
“And you think it was his curved penis that did that?”
“It had to be.” Abby laid her head back and sighed as if remembering all her hot Nate sex. “No man with a straight penis has ever been able to get me off like that.”
As her sisters continued discussing the merits of a curved penis and how Nate’s must have stimulated her G-spot better than a straight one, Emma blindly turned her attention back to the volleyball match.
She couldn’t relate to her sisters’ experiences with sex. Not because she’d never had sex, but because she had never had an orgasm while doing it. At least not during the actual sex act. She had masturbated, of course, but she had never had an orgasm with a man. Ever. Men had fingered, licked, sucked, and fucked her, and not one had been able to get her off.
Which meant that her sisters’ talk about all these great orgasms they’d had at the hands of the men in their lives left her feeling out of place. What was wrong with her that she couldn’t experience what her sisters seemed to enjoy so easily? Was it her or the men she dated? Was she doing something wrong, or were they?
“Hey.” Trina tapped Emma’s shoulder. “You’re awfully quiet. What’s up?”
She blinked her gaze away from Theo and shifted in her seat, sitting taller as if feigning she was fine. “Nothing.”
“All this talk about sex and orgasms isn’t making you uncomfortable, is it?”
“No, I—”
“Because I know you’re not a little goody two-shoes.” Trina bumped her arm good-naturedly. “I know you’ve had plenty of hot sex.”
If only Trina knew. Yes, she’d had plenty of sex. But hot sex? Tepid, lukewarm, and unenthusiastic, maybe, but never hot. The foreplay had been more exciting than the sex.
Trina nudged her arm again. �
��Come on, what gives?”
Emma squirmed and tried to shrug off the self-pity stirred up by her sisters’ sexual tell-alls. “It’s nothing.”
“Is it something we said?” Abby asked, her blond eyebrows drawing inward. “Did I blow your mind with the squirting thing?”
“No, I—”
“Squirting aside, we are getting pretty personal.” Abby gave Trina a look like maybe they should have toned it down.
Trina snorted and made a face. “We’re sisters. We’re supposed to get personal.”
Emma set her drink on the small, stout table between her and Abby. “Look, I’m fine. I’m just not . . . you know . . . comfortable hearing the two of you talk about all this fabulous sex you’ve had.”
“What’s the big deal?” Trina appeared utterly confused, as if she couldn’t fathom the idea that anyone wouldn’t want to hear about her sexual exploits. “It’s just sex. We’ve all done it.” She gestured between her, Abby, and Emma.
“Yes, but maybe some of us haven’t enjoyed it as much as you have,” Emma shot back.
She hadn’t intended on admitting that she was a failure in the bedroom, but Trina’s self-assured, flippant attitude frustrated her.
Both of her sisters swayed backward.
“What are you saying?” Abby asked.
“Did Chad hurt you?” Trina’s expression turned deadly, like she would hop on a plane this very second and fly back to North Carolina and murder Emma’s ex if she uttered even a hint that Chad had behaved inappropriately, or—God forbid—had abused her. “Because if he did, so help me God, I will cut that asshole’s dick off.”
Trina had never liked Chad. She’d always said he was too self-centered and arrogant and couldn’t understand what Emma saw in him.
“No,” Emma said, grateful to know that Trina had her back. “It was nothing like that. He didn’t hurt me. It’s just that . . .”