The storm was rising. His hand rested on my lips, and his finger moved up, over my veil, exposing my clit. I could feel the prints on his hand rubbing against it and the swell of moisture ready to pass through. The lakes were rising over the shore, ready to overflow.
His lips rested on one nipple, sucked it through, then onto the next as his finger started to press through my lips. He kissed the space between my breasts and began to move onto my stomach again.
This time, he moved urgently. He pulled his hand out and slipped his fingers through my belt loop. He moved his body lower, and his cock pulled down my leg. I could feel the head tracing down my shin, and his lips flowed past my belly button, pressing against the space just above my pants button.
He lifted his head to meet my eyes, and I felt a shiver pass down my body. The way he looked at me—that was pure devotion. The animal need to give me pleasure. It wasn’t pretty. It was disarming, and it left me feeling vulnerable, even as my body tensed up in anticipation.
He swept my pants off my legs, letting his hand stream down towards my ankles. He tossed my pants aside and grabbed me by the hips so he could pull my legs down over the end of the bed. He ripped them open, got down on his knees, and dove his head down with a wicked, chilling snarl that slammed me in the gut.
The second his breath poured over my clit, blood rushed in, and the lakes became boiling seas, overtaking the land and passing through the barriers I’d struggled so hard to put up.
His tongue whipped out, and he dipped his head down and pulled it up my lips. He rested it on my clit, pulled it up, and I shuddered. The rain was pounding, slamming in, like a furious torrent as his tongue pressed in, through my lips and into my opening
He had a cocky grin when reached up and let his thumb stroke up and down my clit. He pressed in, stroking back and forth, then down through my opening. That tiny movement rolled through me like the ground itself shook. My mouth fell open.
The sea poured out, spewing sharp jolts of lightning through my entire body. There was no preparing for that rush. My lips trembled, and I cried out. He stood and rested his body above mine. His kisses fell in tiny, angelic whispers. His lips grazed mine and parted so I could dip my tongue through.
Just past his head, I could see his hips rising and falling, scraping the rough denim over my skin. He rested the shaft on my lips as his fingers walked down my arm, over my breast, and clamped down on my nipple.
I cried out and pressed his hips down harder, digging his bulge between my lips. I felt the head stroke my clit when he rose up. He parted his legs and rested his knees at my side. Then he sat up, and I remembered exactly why I was there.
There was no fighting this creature. He was nothing but muscle. All brute force and cunning, so beautiful that I had to reach up and pull my hand down his ridged stomach. I rested it on his bulge and grabbed onto the base of his cock.
I needed to feel it. I had to see the way he groaned as I moved my hand up over the shaft. I flicked the head, and he grunted. I needed more. I increased the tempo and listened as his breath moved faster and faster. His eyes flew into the back of his head.
He caught my hand and moved it aside, then thrust his hips forwards, closer to my mouth. I reached out to grab it, and he caught my hand. I tried the other, but he grabbed it by the wrist. I struggled and flailed my arms around, but he just laughed.
He dropped one hand, so I lunged for it, but he just brushed it aside.
“Come on!” I begged.
He shook his head and laughed in that deep, dark way that always gave me chills. Then his hand flew back, and he pinched my clit. The jolt sent my body rising as far as it could go. He moved his body forward and thrust his hips closer to my mouth.
I lunged my head forward, but he pulled back and pinched my clit again. He had me trapped, and he had something I wanted. He was loving it. I could see it in the way he smiled with his lip curled up over his canines.
“Do it!”
I reached out and thrashed around, doing everything I could to taste it, but he wasn’t going to let it happen. He drove me wild with his finger circling my clit. It drove into my opening, and he let it rest on my spot.
My legs trembled again, and the storm inside me grew. Water poured out as a soft, bubbling sigh left my lips. When I looked up, he unbuttoned his pants.
I could see the bush of hair and the base of his shaft peeking out. It jumped as he pulled his pants off the rest of the way. I’d never seen it so hard. The tip was a deep purple, and the shaft throbbed. I pulled my head up to reach it, but he pulled back and stood up.
“What are you doing?”
He stood back so I could see and began stroking his shaft while he slowly lifted his white polo shirt. He pulled it up, along the trail of fuzz that traveled up his stomach, over his belly button, and the ridges of his stomach.
No man could possibly have the body he had without dedicating himself to working out. Even then, he would’ve had to spend most of his life struggling to become the magnificent beast he was. There was no fat, no marks, just pure muscle.
He threw his shirt aside and stroked his shaft, up and down. My eyes stuck there, watching as he picked up speed.
I couldn’t believe just how big he was, how powerful he was. I’d never met anyone like him. He wasn’t just a man. He was everything men were supposed to be. Powerful, sexual creatures.
He laid down on the bed beside me. His fingers trailed down my arm, and his lips met mine. His lips were tender and warm, softer than silk, and I could feel him smiling. His hand moved down my side, sending out a sweet shiver, like a gust of wind that fell down my body and melded with the storm.
The storm outside was growing stronger. We cuddled up close together. His lips moved over mine, scraping, swishing back and forth, his tongue pressing in and out. The tip moved in, pulled out slowly, then back again, more this time.
His hand moved down my stomach in between us, and the rain pounded against the window, with tiny flickers of lightning. As the rain fell harder, his hand moved closer, and his tongue dove deeper.
His hand was almost there now. His fingers swept over my lips and rested on my clit, while he pulled his tongue over the ridges on my hard palate. Then he slipped it out, past my front teeth, and dug his finger through.
My sigh was caught by his kiss, and his arm pulling underneath my side while his finger pushed deep. The pressure added to the raging storm system, turning it into a hurricane. I could feel it spinning, spreading a tingling warmth over my stomach, spewing heat between my legs.
His finger pushed through deeper, hitting my spot over and over again. He pulled it out and pushed it in so fast that I could barely keep up. It was bliss, but it wasn’t his cock. His cock rested against the top of my thigh, and he moved his hips back and forth, pressing it against my stomach.
He pulled me closer and pulled his finger out. His cock rested against my lips, and the head was right on my clit. His body was so close that I could feel our breath melding together, building a bubble of heat between us that flowed over my arm.
I was lost in the warmth and the brilliance of his touch and his kiss. It was worship, plain and simple. He cared about me, and he wanted me to know that. When he pulled me closer and he pressed his cock past my lips, he was slow and gentle.
Then he slammed through, past the ridges and folds, deep into my body. He bit down on my bottom lip and slammed through to my spot, back again, then out. He held onto me with his arm wrapped around my body.
His cock was like a jackhammer, so fast and hard that I could barely keep from crying out. I was moaning now, yelling. He grunted, and sweat beaded up on my forehead. The friction of his cock sliding through, and the growing heat between us. It was almost unbearable, but it was so fiery sweet.
My cries grew faster, more frantic, and his grunting moans got louder. He sped up, driving through further and further. His hips ground against the bed sheets, slipping past just like his cock.
It was like a
lightning rod, gathering all of the energy from the storm, slamming it deeper and deeper, until his tongue dove through my mouth and a flash of lightning shot out.
Raging wind fluttered over my skin, hot water poured out, and of course, electricity coursed through my bones. My whole body trembled from my head to my toes, screaming as the power built, and I started to lose sight of where I was.
Nothing else existed but heat. It spread up over my stomach, down my thighs, my knees, and into my feet. It was like lava eating through my skin, my tissue, settling in my bones where the heat started to spread. It wrapped us both in a warm glow.
When I opened my eyes, he laid on his side with his head propped up in his hand. “You’re amazing,” he said, lowering his head to kiss me.
I kept my eyes open. I had to know if, after my climax, I still felt what I felt when we were together. There was warmth, and my stomach jumped. I had to grab onto the sheets just to brace myself against the rush.
Then he pulled back, and I saw how happy he was that I was there. It just didn’t seem right. I led him on. Now I was laying on his bed, letting him stroke my hair and hold my chin. It was beautiful, but it changed nothing.
“Thank you for coming back, Mercedes. You don’t know what this means to me.”
I pursed my lips.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing.” I started to sit up, but I had to brush the hand away that he still had on me.
He froze. “Mercedes...”
He panicked, and so did I. Could I really do this? Yes, I had to. If I didn’t guard my heart, it was going to get worse. I had to push past my heartbreak and find a way to stand up and get out of there. When really, all I wanted to do was let him pull me close and rest my head against his chest.
We’d fall asleep there, and he’d hold me all night. Then we’d wake up, and he’d make me dinner, and we’d be happy. But it would be a lie. I was his whore, not his girlfriend. He paid me until I was so desperate for it that I was willing to let him give it to me for free.
That’s why it hurt so much when I did finally sit up, and he looked at me like he was ready to collapse. I turned away and got up. He let me. He didn’t say a single word. Maybe he wanted to be respectful, but I knew what I was doing.
When I ran downstairs, I heard him roar. It shattered my heart and sent me flying out the door.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Jake
We were laying on the bed, drinking in the moment, and I was staring into the eyes of the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. She was perfect, even with her hair flaring out from the pounding I’d given her and with her lipstick smeared.
We were together, and I was ready to pull her close, let her rest head against my chest, and fall asleep next to her, just like I’d been wanting this whole time. Then she decided to run out again, and I was so angry, so fucking hurt, that my whole body shook with rage.
I jumped up, grabbed a robe, and ran down the stairs. Halfway down, I jumped over the bannister and landed feet first in the foyer. I threw the door open. Mercedes spun around and fell back. I reached for her, but she pulled away.
“No,” she said.
“You were leaning against the door crying,” I said.
She ran out into the rain, back toward her car sitting on the edge of the wraparound drive. The water was cold and thick, like walking through a lake rather than rainfall. My whole body was drenched when I stepped out, but I didn’t care because she was still here.
“Mercedes, I love you.”
She stopped with her back to me and her arms wrapped around her chest. It was so cold that she shivered. I walked closer and felt her tense up when I got behind her. “I love you.”
“No,” she said, shaking with a violent sob, her voice filled with panic and doubt.
“I love you,” I said again, stepping closer.
“No.” She dashed for the driver’s side of her car. I ran around to block her way.
“I love you.”
She looked away. I turned her chin so that she faced me. She wrenched away. “No,” she whimpered.
“No, what? What is wrong with you? Why are you doing this? Why won’t you talk to me?”
She shook her head. “I should go.”
“I love you.”
She started to open the door. I grabbed her wrist. She pulled it away. “You don’t love me, Jake!” She turned around to face me, and all the sadness was gone, replaced by violent anger. “You just like the idea of me.”
“Whoa, wait…”
“No. You wanted to know, so I’ll tell you. It’ll make this a lot easier.”
“At least let me defend myself.”
“No, there’s no defense. You don’t even know what you do. You don’t like women, Jake. You like whores. That’s why you got with that woman.”
“That’s not true.”
“You got with me.”
“You are not a whore,” I said. “And if you take one thing away from this, remember that, Mercedes.”
“I don’t believe it, Jake. The truth is right in front of you. You called me to have sex with you, just like you did countless times with other women. You like whores, even if you don’t know it.”
“That isn’t true.”
“Then why do you call them all the time? Why can’t you find somebody? What is it about me that you like? If you like all of those women, and you like me, then me and those women have something in common.”
“Mercedes, you don’t even know.” I shook my head. “When I met you, I was so tired of seeing those women and bringing them into my bed. They’re disgusting. I was downtown, driving home, when I saw you leaning against a wall outside of a restaurant, and I thought, ‘God, I just want a natural, beautiful woman. No more whores.’”
“What?”
“Then I called Tony, and I described you, and I said I didn’t want anyone fake. I was tired of women like that, and I’ve been tired of doing this for a long time. You were my dream girl, and you showed up at my house. It was like a miracle.”
She lowered her head to hide her tears. “Is that true?”
“You think I like being like this?”
“No.”
“I wanted to change, and you walked in, and you didn’t even know. I don’t like those women. Becky was the exact opposite of everything I liked. She was then, and she is now. I don’t like whores.”
“But that’s how this started. I’ll always be your whore.”
“Mercedes, you and I both know that you were never my whore. You were my date, every single second that I was with you. The only reason we waited so long to get together was because I was afraid of getting into a relationship I thought would fail.”
“Why?” She looked me in the eye.
“Because I didn’t think you could keep up with my libido. Nobody could, but you do.”
“I lose control, and that’s not okay.”
“What we just did was not okay?” I asked.
She didn’t say anything.
“At this point, Mercedes, there is no denying what we have together. It’s beautiful, sacred, and I’m not giving up.”
“Why? Why do you care about me? What could I possibly have done to deserve you?”
I smiled and took her hand. She went limp and leaned against the door. I took her chin and lifted it so that she looked me in the eye. “You don’t know how amazing you are. No matter how much I tell you that, you won’t listen.”
“I don’t see it. That’s why, Jake. That’s why. You’re blind.”
“You gave up everything—your career, your dignity, your independence—all so you could take care of somebody that you loved. Your self-sacrifice has no depths, and that’s what I love about you the most. But what about you? What do you want?”
Her shoulders fell, and she sobbed. “You don’t understand.”
“Of course, I do. You stretch yourself thin because you want to hold the world up on your shoulders. You don’t want anything bad t
o happen to your father or your mother. So all you do is take care of them while you sit in stasis, stagnating, when you should be living.”
“How is that any different from a whore? They give everything to everyone, and sacrifice themselves in the process.”
“That’s not it at all,” I said. “They don’t give anything to anyone. They bleed them. They work their way into men’s lives and force them to buy them everything they want because they look pretty. It’s not about sacrifice. It’s about only giving enough to get what you want. How is that anything like you? You wouldn’t even let me send you to a spa without a fight. Half the time, the only reason Becky left her house was because I bought her something.”
She stayed silent, shuffling her feet around with her lips pursed.
“Tell me one reason why you should leave, a real reason, and I will walk out of your life.”
She stayed silent.
“You can’t do that. Can you?”
She was shaking now.
“Mercedes, I love you. I don’t want to lose you, and I think you know how much this is hurting. I know that it’s hurting you too. Do we have to end this?”
“No,” she whispered.
“Do you feel the same way I do?”
“Yeah, I do,” she said, her voice shaking. She swallowed and met my eyes. “I’m so sorry. I am so sorry that I did this to you. I love you. I do, and I’m not gonna break your heart like this again. I promise you.”
“Never,” I said.
“Never,” she said.
“Thank God.” I wrapped my arm behind her neck and we collided, like two meteors flying through space, pulled together by gravity.
The cold didn’t matter, neither did the rain. I had my arms wrapped around her again, and she wasn’t going anywhere. I’d shelter her and give her everything she wanted, if not forever, at least for now.
“Come inside,” I said.
“Okay.” She let me take her hand and lead her upstairs into the bedroom, where we laid down together on the bed and cuddled, and she rested her head on my shoulder. It was sacred silence, a connection that I’d never thought possible. She loved me for who I was, regardless of my flaws or my misgivings. This episode did nothing but reinforce the love we already knew existed between us.
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