Wreck Me

by J. L. Mac

  “I need to make a phone call. I will be in my office. Make yourself at home.” He leans forward and gives me a chaste kiss on the lips and stalks through the big penthouse towards his office. I am standing alone in his wide open living space. It’s cold and uninviting. I don’t like all this modern shit. I head towards his kitchen and nose through all the cabinets. What to make for dinner? Hmm. A loud crashing noise emanates from down the hall and I freeze in place. What the hell was that? I slip off my heels and discard them beside the kitchen island. I pad quietly towards the noise. I hear muffled talking. I continue down a wide corridor. The talking guides me towards the end of the hallway where I see a cracked door. I step up to the door and peep through.

  “I told you last time was it! I told you I would not do this anymore!” Damon barks down the line. Holy shit he is intimidating. His fist pounds down on the solid wood desk in front of him.

  “Who the fuck do you think you are coming to my home?” He roars down the line. My heart pounds in my chest and my brain is screaming at me to move. To run away, but my body is frozen in place.

  “Yeah well the next time I see you anywhere near my home I swear I will fucking kill you myself. You won’t have to worry about his crew getting to you because I will beat them to it. I think I should have dibs anyway you sorry son-of-a-bitch!” He slams the phone down into its cradle on his desk and runs his shaking hands through his hair. Poor Damon. That had to be that Edward guy. My hand moves involuntarily and pushes his office door open. His heads snaps to where I am standing and we hold each other’s gaze for a long moment. My big man is shaking and rattled. I don’t know who this Edward is, but I fucking hate him already. I have an instinctive desire to comfort him. It’s reflexive and seems to come from nowhere. I walk to where he is standing behind his desk. His big frame plops down heavily into his desk chair.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” He states with finality. His voice is slightly hoarse from his shouting. I hike my dress up so that I can straddle him. I ease across his lap and even though my heart is pounding I want nothing more than to calm him down. I want to fix whatever the problem is. I want to make it better. It’s absurd, but it is what it is. I lean forward into him and kiss him softly on his jaw. I wrap my arms around his neck and hold myself to him tightly. His arms wrap around my waist and hold me to him. Our bodies pressed together seems to mollify the tense atmosphere.

  “I don’t want to scare you and that’s what I did.” He says softly. I run my fingers through his thick dark hair and lean back enough to look him in the eye.

  “I’m not scared of you.” Relief washes over his face and it chips away at my hardened heart even more. A clear pang of sympathy reverberates through my chest. I lean in and kiss his lips with unbridled intensity. His hands slide up my back to tangle in my hair. He flicks his wrist and wraps my mass of wavy hair around his balled fist. Our kiss breaks when his fist tugs my hair causing my head to tilt back. His mouth feasts at my neck. His warm moist lips kiss me passionately. His fist tightens in my hair producing a whimper from me. He releases me and I seize the opportunity to do what I want. I grind once against his erection beneath my hips then slide off his lap. I kiss his lips once more before getting to my knees before him. He looks like a man in charge above me. The feeling associated with it has me turned on and alarmed at the realization that I like him being above me. In charge. In control.

  I push my alarm aside for dissection at a later date. My fingers go to his belt and deftly unbuckle, unbutton and unzip his trousers to free his flawless cock. It springs up and juts outward towards me almost in invitation. I grip my hand around his considerable girth and stroke him to the base then back up to the tip. I repeat my movement while watching him closely. His eyes are hooded, but remain watching me closely. I inch closer to his chair and give him one last glance before I glide my tongue from root to tip. My tongue swirls around the wide tip of his cock. He groans. I feel his body tense then relax. I take him into my mouth and seal my lips around his silky smooth length. A guttural groan vibrates through him. I draw him deep into my mouth, to the back of my throat then forward again. I back him out of my mouth and kiss the tip, collecting the lone drop of come. I lick the residue from my lips and savor the taste of him. The scent and taste of him is a heady combination that has my stomach clenching deliciously. I take him deep into my throat pass after pass. I stroke the base of his cock as my lips draw tight around him. My tongue flicks against the tip and massages the sensitive zone on the underside of his shaft.

  His hand skates across my cheek to my head where his fingers lace through my locks. I feel him lengthen and tense in my mouth. I work him fervently until I gentle my movement and swallow down the surge of his warm release. His hips buck forward as he spills into my mouth. I lap at his length and lick him clean. I have never been so turned on in my life. I feel frantic to have him in me. He reads my body language and springs from his seat. I am lifted to him. I wrap my legs around his waist and hold on for dear life as he rockets up his staircase. The bedroom door gets his foot again and I am laid on his bed. He rids himself of his clothes in a flash and makes quick work of removing my dress, bra and panties. He kneels between my legs and runs two fingers down the seam of my pussy. He bites his lip and his eyes roll back.

  “Fuck, your wet baby,” he purrs seductively. My body writhes in response to his touch on my skin and his voice in my ears. He plunges his two fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean. He leans across the bed to reach his nightstand. He withdraws a condom and rips it open. I am compelled, possessed by my need to feel him. I want him on me and in me. It breaks my own rules, but I don’t want a damn thing between us. I still his hands and take the condom from him.

  “Nothing between us,” I say breathily. His head tilts back and I see his eyes roll back. He brings his attention back to me and the pure lust burning in his eyes has me emotional and wanton beneath him.

  “Please,” I beg. He leans forward and cages my trembling body with his intimidating frame.

  “You’re sure?” He asks hesitantly. I nod my head affirming what I want. He breathes in heavily as he positions the wide head at my entrance. It’s the first touch we share. Skin on skin and it lights my body on fire. He stays in place. Poised to penetrate me. What is he waiting for? He is shaking and I can tell he is restraining. He is holding back.

  “You have to tell me if I’m hurting you.” I nod.

  “No say it. Promise you’ll tell me.”

  “I promise.” The moment I say what he wants to hear he surges forward driving his erection deep. I gasp and claw at his back.

  “Oh fuck baby, you’re the first. I’ve never gone bare.” Knowing that we are each other’s first at least in some capacity makes my heart swell.

  “Me too.” He groans his appreciation into my ear. His lips draw my lobe into his mouth. He bites down lightly and my body tenses in response. I tighten even more around his cock and he seems to lose all control. He grips my hips and hauls me into him with force. My legs are pushed upward to rest on his shoulders. The very tip of him burrows deeper into me. I suck in air through gritted teeth. His grip on me is nearly crippling, but I’m not in pain. Pure lust rages in his eyes as he plows through me. His cock withdraws and thrusts forward over and over with ferocity.

  “Ah, Damon.” A bead of sweat rolls from his hairline down his forehead and finally drips from his nose to land on my sternum.

  “I need you,” he pants. My hands fist into the pillows beside my head. The tingling sensation that flows through my veins inundates my senses. All I can see is him. All I can smell is him. All I can hear is him. All I can taste is him. All I can feel is him. I feel so completely his and the sensation is like none I have ever felt. I want to be his. I want him to need me like he has said.

  “You have me,” I moan as he continues deep, penetrating thrust after thrust. I can feel every unique ridge and vein of his erection as it slips past the outer rim of my slick opening.

  “Ag
ain,” he demands through gritted teeth. His amber eyes blaze as he gazes down at me. Sweat blooms from my pores and makes the friction between us non-existent. Our bodies slip against each other with complete fluidity. We fit. We look the part. We are two parts made whole.

  “You have me,” I repeat with as much sincerity as the moment allows for. My body comes alive in a new way and hums with my pending orgasm. Every muscle tightens and tingles. I focus my eyes on his. We watch each other as our respective orgasms unfurl and consume us. His hips buck as he releases deep in me. Warmth fills me and my channel spasms around his cock, drawing out his climax. Our bodies shudder and lurch repeatedly. He pushes my legs from his shoulders and collapses in a sweaty exhausted heap. His chest rises and falls rapidly while he works at catching his breath. I push my fingers through his sodden locks. My own exhaustion seems to overtake me. My eyes close and I feel completely sated in a way I have never known.

  “Baby?” Kisses rain down on my cheeks, nose, chin, forehead, and neck.

  “Uh,” I grunt incoherently. I hear Damon chuckle under his breath.

  “Dinner time, let’s go.” I guess I should probably get my oversexed ass out of bed and make big man something to eat. If fucking like that is what I get to have from him then I will gladly load him up with plenty of carbohydrates and protein. He is a bull of a man. He needs to eat. I push myself up and pry my eyes open. Damon looks gorgeous in bare feet, jersey style, black mesh shorts and a white undershirt. I purr my approval. He shakes his head and smiles that crooked smile that make me impossibly weak for him.

  “I may have created a monster.”

  “Perhaps,” I muse as I walk past him completely naked. I can feel him follow. I turn to face him as I walk into his bathroom.

  “Mind if I piss in peace?” His sheepish look falls into place right on cue and I am pleased with myself. He is just so damn cute when he looks as if he is utterly embarrassed.

  “I’m kidding. I don’t have to pee. You showered without me?” He continues to follow me into the gargantuan bathroom.

  “You were out cold and it’s the only time that dirty ass mouth of yours is shut so I figured I had better savor the moment while I could.” I spin around to face my dark haired bull of a man. His arms are folded over his broad chest. The smirk on his mouth is all the evidence I need to see that he is in a playful mood. It is a world away from the furious man that I encountered in his office.

  “Smart ass huh? Well that’s too bad. I was planning on something special when we took a shower. Oh well, maybe next time.”

  “Oh, bullshit woman! I told you not to tease me.” He strides towards me and sweeps my naked body up over his shoulder and walks right into the shower fully clothed. He flips on the taps and cold water pelts my ass and back. I squeal in protest.

  “Put me down!”

  “You’ve been a bad girl. You need to be punished.”

  “No! It’s cold!” I slap his ass through the sopping wet jersey shorts. His big paw slaps me back and I yelp.

  “Ouch! Put me down!” His body shakes beneath me with laughter.

  “Are you going to tease me anymore?” he sputters between deep laughs. With one more swat of my ass I shout my surrender.

  “Okay! Okay! No more teasing! I promise.” Satisfied with my white-flag-surrender, he slides me down the front of his body. His arm snakes around me to adjust the water temperature. Warmth pelts my skin as he holds me close. I tuck my fingers into the waist of his shorts and tug them down. Water streams down his body and drips from his face. I lean in and greedily collect the water from his stubbly chin, then tug the hem of his soaked shirt up and over his head. Our lips clash together. He drinks from me as I drink from him. I pull his full bottom lip between my teeth. His groan sends a pulse of electricity racing through my body. He cups my ass and in one easy movement lifts me to him. My back crashes against the tiled wall of his shower as his hard cock impales me simultaneously.

  “How’s this for special, baby?” He growls while taking a fist full of my hair in his hand. He tugs and my head thuds against the wall slightly. His cock works me hard and fast. He has me pinned with his body and holds me in place easily. He drives hard and deep into me over and over.

  “Ah, baby,” I moan. His mouth covers mine, silencing me. His tongue delves deep while stealing my breath. My heart pounds out of control under his ministrations. He breaks away from my lips and rams into me harder.

  “Who do you belong to?” He says on a shout. It’s so hot and I feel like I may come with just his words. My tender pussy tightens exquisitely.

  “Say it!” He bellows.

  “You!” I whimper weakly.

  “Again!”

  “You! I belong to you!” I cry out breathlessly. He thrusts hard once, twice, three, four, more times and freezes. His body lurches and stills repeatedly. My own pleasure crests and crashes down over me. I roll my eyes back and arch into him. My sensitive, hardened nipples press against his pectorals. His warmth spills into me and twitches as we ride out our climactic pleasure. He holds me in place against the tile wall until my breathing has returned to normal. He eases out of me and a small zap of pain radiates through my womb. I wince and suck in a breath of air reflexively.

  “Did I hurt you?” The concern in his voice is clear. I feel…valued. Cherished. And dare I say loved even. I know there is no possible way he could love me. We are as fresh as a couple could be. I still don’t know his favorite color, movie, drink. I have never had the love of anyone except my parents. I don’t remember it as clear as I use to. Memories have faded with time, but this sensation feels familiar and I could swear it feels like love. I say nothing as I look up into his warm honey colored eyes. One big hand cups my jaw. He rests his forehead against mine and closes his eyes. In this moment something is communicated between the two of us. It’s indescribable and disarming. My short lived zap of pain is long forgotten. He holds me under the water for a long moment. His stomach rumbles loud. We both laugh.

  “Come on big guy. I’ll make us some dinner.” He lightly smacks my ass when I turn away from him to wash my hair and body. Yeah, he is definitely an ass man. I quip inwardly. We finish up in the shower and towel off before heading down to his kitchen. I glide through his kitchen like a woman on speed. Working in this space is nice. I enjoy cooking, but I have never had the proper kitchen or tools to really flex my culinary muscle. He steps up behind me and plants a tender kiss on my neck.

  “What would you like to drink?” He mumbles against my skin.

  “Mmm, do you have any wine?” He steps away and opens his monster size refrigerator.

  “I don’t. Sorry. I don’t really drink much so there’s no alcohol in the house.”

  “Maybe we should go get some. I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink.” I talk to the cutting board as I season our steaks.

  “I’d prefer if we didn’t.” His tone as dropped and I stop what I’m doing to face him.

  “Why?” My curiosity wins out over my better judgment and I want to know. He moves about the kitchen collecting utensils and dishes to set the table. His muscle capped shoulders shrug nonchalantly.

  “My father is a drunk. Has been all my life. I just don’t care for the shit.” Note to self. Alcohol is a no-go. I suppose it’s really no big deal. I don’t drink very often either. I like the occasional beer or glass of wine, but it’s pretty sporadic.

  “Oh.” It’s the only thing I can come up with. What the hell is my problem? Should I hug him? No. I would hate that shit. I decide to just leave it alone and change the subject.

  “So what do I have to do tomorrow at the store?”

  “That’s easy. I’ve already worked out the details for tomorrow with Dave, my project manager. The decorator will be here at nine o’clock tomorrow morning to go over some things with you.” I set the steaks to broil and drain the potatoes I boiled.

  “Wait, I’m meeting the decorator here?” I dump the steaming hot potatoes into a mixing bowl with
the butter, milk, and garlic. I smash them up as I carry on with our conversation.

  “Yes. The store is now a construction zone and I don’t want you getting hurt or hanging out around a crew of horny construction workers.” His explanation sounds reasonable except the crew part. He sounds a tad jealous, but I don’t even want to broach the subject of jealousy with him right now.

  I finish preparing our meal and we eat and carry on light conversation. Mostly about the store. After dinner, I make quick work of cleaning up our mess.

  Damon’s phone begins ringing. He glances down to the screen and his jaw clenches and ticks.

  “I have to take this.” He says flatly as he stalks off toward his office. I finish cleaning and talk myself out of eaves dropping. Whoever is on the phone has to do with this Edward person. I’m sure of it. I carry myself up his stairs and into the library. I pick a book at random from the shelf and pad to his bedroom. I crack open the book. The spine creaks and moans its protest. This book has never been opened. Its unmarred spine speaks volumes to me. My eyes read the first page lazily before sleep wins out and I give up on reading.

  I wake up feeling like someone ran me over with a bus and I can’t blame this on rough sex. I’m getting sick. Fuck my life. I roll over and through cracked lids spot a note on the bedside table. I reach across and snatch it up. Scrawled in shitty man-bull writing is a short and sweet message.

  ‘You’re right next to me and yet I miss you. –D’

  I look around for signs of Damon, but find none. I dress quickly in a pair of Damon’s pajama pants and a white tee. I drag my aching body down his stairs. I can hear movement from the kitchen. I walk in to find Damon staring at the oven like it is the mystery of all mysteries.

  “What are you doing?” I force out sounding very similar to an eighty year old smoker. He whips around like I have screamed bloody murder.