“Um, just some time.”
I give her jaw a little nip, not hard, just enough to send a shudder through her. “How long?” I repeat.
“Two,” she whispers.
“Two weeks?”
“No.”
I frown, pulling away. “Two months?”
She draws herself up and meets my eyes with an expression I can’t read. “It’s been two years.”
My mind goes blank; her words don’t make any sense to me, don’t compute. Two years without sex? Seven hundred and thirty days? Seven hundred and thirty and a half days, scientifically speaking?
“How?” I ask. Her hand is still on my dick, and I am finding it impossible to actually process this information.
“Well,” she explains, “the last time I had sex was two years ago. That’s how.”
“You’re fucking gorgeous,” I say, still confused. “I wanted to tackle you and fuck you right there in that school parking lot the first day I met you. Surely even if you didn’t want a relationship, you would have had no trouble finding a man who would—”
“It just never felt right,” she says. “After my last boyfriend dumped me, I tried hooking up with a guy I met at a bar, and it was fine, but it still felt like being vulnerable. It still felt like opening up to someone, even though it was supposed to be casual. I don’t want to open up, and I don’t need to. I can take care of those needs on my own. I have a fantastic vibrator.”
But masturbating is not the same, I want to argue. Part of sex is the sweat and the sighs, the give of another person’s flesh, the smell of their hair, the taste of their lips. But then something else occurs to me, and it wipes all other thoughts out of my mind.
“Does this mean I’ll be the first man inside you in two years?”
She nods, a shy smile on her face. I want to nibble that smile, I want to gobble her up, I want to bite and possess her. And for the first time in three days, the twisting part of my chest and the rational part of my brain are in full agreement. My cock agrees too: we have to make this good for her. It’s a huge honor to be the man she’s chosen not only to father her child, but to make love to her after so long—she deserves for this to be good. Better than good. Perfect.
Also, my cock reminds me, there’s something very exciting in the idea of being the first man inside that pussy in so long. Almost as if it were saved for me. As if it were mine to possess.
“I’ve been thinking about it all week,” she confesses. “What it will feel like. If it will feel tight and big and full. If you’ll stretch me.”
I groan. “You’re killing me, Liv.”
Another shy smile. “I can’t wait to see you.”
“Naughty kitten,” I breathe. “If I could kiss you, I’d kiss you until you came in my arms. But since I can’t…”
I reach for her blouse and she lets me, moving her hand from my cock—boo—up to my exposed chest, which does feel pretty good. As I unbutton her shirt, she runs wandering fingers all over my chest and abs and shoulders and arms, her eyes wide and her lips parted.
“I like you touching me like that,” I rumble. And I so fucking do, it’s like having my ego and my body petted at the same time.
“You’re so strong,” she marvels. Then she squeezes my biceps so tightly I feel her fingernails dig into my skin.
I hiss, but it’s a good hiss, and her voice is low and needy when she says, “Hurry, Chase.”
She doesn’t have to tell me twice. I finish with the buttons and slide the silky fabric from her shoulders, where it flutters to the ground.
“Fuck me,” I mumble, drinking in the sight of her golden skin, the smoothness of her belly, the delicious weight of her breasts in her black lace bra. Her navel is a sweet little divot on that perfect stomach, a stomach mostly firm, mostly flat, but with some softness, some curve. I have to put my mouth on it.
I drop to my knees and kiss her belly button, running my lips and then my tongue around the indent of it. My touch seems to surprise her; she jolts the second my tongue touches her skin. But her hands thread through my hair, keeping my mouth against her skin, making it clear she wants more.
I give her more. I kiss and lick along the lines of her stomach, I nibble until it tickles and she’s giggling breathlessly, and then once I think I’ve got her relaxed and comfortable with me again, I slowly work her pants open, looking up at her from my knees as I do. “Is it okay if I finish what I started earlier?”
“Yes,” she murmurs. “I would like that.”
Once I have her pants unfastened, I lean back onto my heels and bring her foot onto my thigh, where I gently ease off her ballet flat. Then again on the other side. I run a finger along the arch of her foot before I set it down, not to tickle but just to enjoy the feeling of her skin, to enjoy the way every touch of mine seems to light her on fire.
Then I pull her pants down her legs and help her step out of them, so she’s standing in front of me in her matching bra-and-panty set. Keeping eye contact, I slide my hands up the outside of her thighs to her hips, taking a moment to squeeze and grope her ass, and then I hook my fingers in her panties and drag them down, exposing that bare pussy completely.
My cock aches the moment I see it, and I can’t resist the urge to lean in and give it a kiss. I can smell her, can see that she’s already so fucking wet, and it makes me just want to shove my face in there and make her figure out trivial details like balance and keeping herself spread for me while I eat her.
But no, she deserves better. Which is why I stand up after dropping a light kiss on her clit and reach around her with one hand and easily unfasten her bra.
“You’re really good at that,” she says.
Normally I would say something like of course I am or I’ve had lots of practice, baby, but it doesn’t feel right at the moment. Not like I’m ashamed of being Officer Good Times, just that I want to be more than Officer Good Times right now, I want to be the guy who made her first fuck in two years feel amazing. And I don’t think reminding her of all the women I’ve fucked before tonight will help that. I’ll ease back on the handcuffs tonight too—there’ll be plenty of time to see her cuffed and naked in front of me.
So instead I help her pull the bra off, and then I stand back and look at her. Just look at her. Completely naked for me.
How did I get so lucky?
“You’re beautiful,” I tell her in a husky voice. “Fucking gorgeous.”
Her tits are perfect teardrops with dark tips just begging to be sucked, and they’re already puckered into tight buds for me. “I’m going to suck on those,” I inform her. “Just so you know.”
“Okay,” she breathes.
“A lot.”
“Okay.”
“It will be good practice for when the baby comes.”
“It’s for the baby,” she repeats, dazed. “Right.”
“But right now, I have to finish something else. Get on the bed for me, kitten, and on your back, please.”
She obeys, climbing on the bed, looking more like a kitten than ever. And then she slowly stretches out on her back while I work open my belt. Her eyes darken at the sight, goose bumps cropping up on her skin as she hears the leather slide against my jeans as I pull the belt free. I drop it on the ground and pop open the buttons of my jeans to give my straining cock some relief.
I crawl up on the bed in between her legs, coming to rest on my stomach with her cunt mere inches from my face. I use my thumbs to trace along the place where her thighs meet her sex; I stroke her outside folds until she squirms. And then I use those thumbs to spread her completely open for me, exposing the soft wet of her inner petals and the small opening to her sweetest secret. I finally get to see and smell and taste what I couldn’t in the parking lot, this wet well, this deep-rose pink of her that has been waiting for another person’s touch for two years.
“Oh, Liv,” I say, because I don’t know what else to say. I might come just from looking at her, come right in my jeans, because this is the
sweetest cunt I’ve ever seen and I don’t even know how I’m going to last more than a minute while I’m fucking it.
“Please,” she begs.
“I like you saying please,” I say, leaning in close so I can give her a long lick from her hole to her clit. “It’s very polite.”
“I’m always polite,” she gasps. I’ve licked her pussy again, this time straight into her entrance, circling and thrusting my tongue as she squirms. I have to wrap my arms around her thighs to keep her still enough for me to eat her the way I want.
“You are so polite,” I croon in between kisses and sucks. “You let me feel your pussy when I wanted it so badly at dinner the other night. You let me suckle your clit tonight when I wanted to. And in just a few minutes, you’re going to politely spread your legs and let me take what I need. Going to let me come so hard inside you.”
She moans, throwing her forearm over her eyes. “Chase…”
Two years since she’s had an orgasm given to her, and I can tell. Her thighs are tight, her belly tighter, a flush creeping up her chest. I add a finger to my efforts, then a second finger, easing her open, making her soft and swollen and ready for me. She’s thrashing now, trying to close her legs, like the feeling is too much.
“I can’t,” she pants, twisting and writhing. “Oh God, it’s too much, I can’t, I can’t.”
“You will,” I growl, sucking and licking and moving my fingers in the slow, curling way she seems to like. Underneath, my cock is throbbing and aching so badly that I can’t help but rock my hips against the mattress as I bring Liv closer and closer to orgasm. I can’t wait to empty inside of her, can’t wait to drain myself of every last drop deep in her cunt, can’t wait to feel her wet heat surrounding my naked skin. Consumed by that idea, I flick my tongue over the swollen pearl of her clit faster and faster, pressing against the sensitive spot on her front walls with my fingers. I want her wet and wrung out and wanting more by the time I’m ready to push these jeans down and start pumping inside her.
Livia still chants I can’t, it’s too much, I can’t above me, and then her body betrays her words, tightening around my mouth and fingers, tightening like ribbons around a maypole, and then finally, with a cry so low and long that it makes me groan in response, she unwinds and releases. Her body trembles and quakes, and she’s got one hand clutching my hair and her other covering her eyes, as if she can’t handle having the power of sight on top of all the other sensory information flooding her body. As if my hair in her fist and the pulsing in her womb are her only anchors in this world.
I almost can’t stand it, the feeling of her coming this hard, the sight of it, the sound of it, and the minute her flutters slow and her hips stop squirming, I rise up to my knees and suck on the fingers that were just inside of her. She watches me with dark eyes, her body limp and sated beneath me.
I open my jeans the rest of the way. “My turn,” I say, crawling over her with a wicked grin.
Eight
Livia
I can’t take my eyes off of him. He’s a god. Adonis. The way he looks. The way he moves. The way I know he’s going to fuck. But it’s more than what he is that makes him divine. Because, yeah, he’s beautiful, but also he makes me feel beautiful.
It’s been a long time since someone’s made me feel like that. Like sexy beautiful. Maybe I’ve missed it more than I realized.
He wriggles out of his jeans as he climbs up over me, and he’s good at it. Good at undressing quickly in awkward positions without getting caught in his clothes the way I would if I tried something similar.
It’s a testament to how experienced he is. I should feel put off by that, but in this moment, I feel just the opposite. It’s part of how he makes me feel beautiful. Because I feel special. I feel lucky. Chase can have anyone. A man with his resume doesn’t need a contract to guarantee his bed won’t be empty. Yet he wants me. Enough to agree to forego other sexual relationships for what might be several months.
And if I didn’t believe it when he signed, I surely believe it now that his cock is naked and stone in front of me.
He tugs on his erection. Once, twice. My eyes widen. I sense his hunger growing, and—is it even possible?—his dick thickens before me.
I want it. I want it so bad. I’ve just come, and I’m ready for more. I’m desperate for more. The reason I’m here, the reason I’m lying beneath him, suddenly isn’t foremost on my mind. I still want a baby, but right now the only thing I want is his cock inside me. Stretching me. Filling me.
Is it so wrong to want to fuck him as much as I do?
It’s biology. It’s hormones. That’s what I’ll tell myself later. If our bodies didn’t want sex, we wouldn’t want to procreate. Desire is part of the process, and giving into that desire is the step I’m on now.
“I’ve been waiting for this,” Chase half mumbles, half growls as he settles between my legs and bends to swirl his tongue around my peaked nipple.
I tilt my hips up to meet him and feel a delicious jolt of pleasure as his crown grazes along my hole. But then he slides his length along my slit, knocking his tip against my clit. At the same time, he sucks my nipple into his mouth, sending another electric shock to my lower regions.
It’s amazing and hot as hell but not where I want him. Not where I need him.
“Chase…” I beg, bucking my pelvis against him.
“Gotta be patient, kitten,” he says, his mouth full of my tit. He squeezes my other breast with his hand, and I moan. He’s enjoying tormenting me. I don’t know how he can stand it. I can feel how hard he is as he rubs again along my pussy. How big he is. It has to hurt.
I’m certainly hurting. I can already feel another climax brewing. Slowly. Achingly.
“Chase!” I wriggle, trying to maneuver so I can get his tip inside me. “Please!”
He surrenders my breast and presses his forehead to mine. “There it is.” His lips are so close, hovering just above my mouth. For a second I think he might try to kiss me. Or, that I might try to kiss him. I had reasons for not kissing—good reasons. Important reasons. Crucial-to-this-whole-arrangement reasons.
I’m just struggling to remember them when he says, “I was waiting for the magic word.”
He reaches down between us and positions his cock at my entrance, and then, instead of thinking about his lips or wondering about kissing or not kissing, I’m gasping as he pushes inside me.
“Oh my God,” I pant, my eyes shut tight. He’s bigger than I realized, and while it’s not painful, I feel every inch of him as he slides in farther. He’s hot and solid and nothing like the silicone MegaMan 2000 that’s hidden in my underwear drawer. “Oh my God oh my God oh my God.”
“You feel good too, babe,” he rumbles before pulling out. “Open your eyes.”
But I can’t open my eyes. I can’t look at him. It’s too much to see on top of everything he’s making me feel.
He thrusts inside me, hitting a sensitive spot, and I jerk and cry out in surprise, because it sends me clenching in a sudden climax.
“Jesus, Liv, you’re so tight when you come.”
I’m dizzy and dazed from this latest orgasm, but I’m aware enough to feel that he has to fight so that I don’t push him out. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me with him as he shifts onto his knees so that now I’m sitting on his lap.
I open my eyes, and there he is, right in front of me. Something in my chest tightens, and the air is suddenly missing from my lungs.
Chase grins, rocking in and out of me at a leisurely pace. “That’s better.”
But this is not better. Not for me. This isn’t just biological desire anymore, this is… I don’t know what this is, exactly. It feels too intimate. It feels too much like connection. It feels too good.
I don’t like it, and I shift, trying to get off Chase’s lap.
“Hold on. I’ll fix it,” he says, and however he’s interpreted my restlessness, he does fix it by gripping my waist and driving into me with such force
I have to clutch onto him. I bury my head in his shoulder, and even though my torso is pressed against his, the lack of eye contact allows me to relax. Chase quickly finds an earnest rhythm, and once again I can believe this is just about sex. Just about feeling good for him. Just about getting to his climax for both of us.
Soon, a fine sheen of sweat covers our bodies. His muscles tense underneath my thighs, and I can tell he’s close. This is one of the things that’s different from getting off by myself—someone else’s orgasm is as important as my own. I’d let myself remember sex with a partner as somewhat of a chore for exactly this reason.
But Chase’s climax feels like anything but work, and not just because I’m after his sperm. For one, he’s exerting all the effort. But also I want him to come because I’m into it. I’m into him. He turns me on and gets me hot like no one has in a long time, and part of what’s so sexy about him is how turned on he seems to be by me.
That’s not something I get from the MegaMan 2000.
I pull back so I can watch him. His tempo increases, and his face starts to screw up, and I’m fascinated. Enthralled. That I can turn this man into this beast, that I can do this to him—it feels like a superpower. Is this how he feels when he’s making me writhe and moan under his tongue? Like he’s in command? Like he’s in control? No wonder he moves like a god—this ability feels very almighty.
But just when I think he’s on the brink, when I’m sure he’s about to release, he surprises me by pushing me to the bed and flipping me to my stomach. His dick slides out of me, and I’m missing it.
“I’m not ready to be done,” he says as he pushes my knees underneath me.
“Chase. The goal is releasing.” The resistance in my tone is not matched by my body. My body is pliable, bending to how he wants me, because I’m not ready to be done either.
He kneels behind me and pulls my hips up so I’m at the right height. Then, with his cock in his hand, he rubs his crown along the slit of my swollen, soaked pussy. “I’ll release. But first I’m going to enjoy you.”
Hot Cop Boxed Set Page 10