One Night Stand

by Brooks, Sarah J.

“I’ll go easy on you.” He grinned, slipping comfortably back into playful mode just like that. “I just wanted to give you fair warning.”

  “Come on, give me a hint.” I bit my lip, which was still a little raw from where he’d done the same thing. “It’s only fair.”

  “There are games I like to play,” he told me, slipping his arm around my waist and pulling me close. “And I haven’t had a chance to play them in a hell of a long time.”

  “And you want to play them with me?” I murmured.

  He kissed me again, pushing his tongue into my mouth, making my feet feel like they were rooted to the floor. He nodded as he pulled back.

  “Let me show you what I’m talking about,” he told me, and he moved behind me and pulled the T-shirt I was wearing over my head. With deft fingers, he undressed me swiftly, undoing my bra and tossing it aside, taking off my jeans and throwing them into the corner of the room until I was wearing nothing but the pair of black lace panties I had slipped on after my shower. He stepped away and walked around me, looking me up and down as though he was considering what to do with me. I crossed my arms over my chest, a little self-consciously, but he pushed them away so that I was completely exposed to him.

  “I want to see you,” he murmured, and his gaze flicked up to meet mine, and I knew at once that this was part of the game; I had to do whatever I was told, and I was more than happy to oblige. I stood there looking at him as he took me in, moving all the way around me. Even when I couldn’t see him, I could feel his gaze burning fiercely into my body as though it was branding me.

  “You look so fucking good like that,” he murmured, and suddenly he reached out a finger and traced it all the way down my spine; the touch was sudden, and I didn’t realize just how badly I’d been craving it until that very moment, and a moan escaped my mouth before I could stop it.

  “You like it when I touch you?” he asked, and I nodded.

  “Tell me,” he ordered, and the firmness in his voice sent something smoldering to life inside me. I’d had guys try to do this with me before, this kinky stuff, but none of them had ever made me actually believe it before this; with him, I felt as though my entire body was being set on fire, as though he was a puppeteer leading me with strings to do everything he wanted. I was helpless to resist, and I was surprised at how much I liked that feeling.

  “I like it when you touch me,” I breathed. Something about hearing the words come out of my mouth, hearing him draw them from me, ratcheted my desire up a notch or two. Or ten.

  “You have to speak to me, alright?” He moved in close, winding an arm around my waist from behind and murmuring the words straight into my ear. “You have to tell me what you want. That’s the only way I’m going to give it to you.”

  “Right,” I managed to reply, and that seemed to satisfy him.

  He scooped me up off my feet, making me squeal, and laid me down on the bed; I went to pull him close to me, but he pulled back.

  “Remember, you have to tell me,” he warned me, and I had a feeling that there would be repercussions if I didn’t take him seriously.

  “Kiss me,” I asked breathlessly, and he leaned down and obliged, pressing his mouth against mine and kissing me just as he had outside the door that time; deep, hard, passionate, impossibly sexy, and impossibly him. He pulled back and grinned, and then pushed my arms up over my head.

  “Mmm,” I squirmed on the bed, watching as he crossed my wrists and pressed them against the headboard.

  “Don’t move,” he told me, and he produced a thin tie from his back pocket; wrapping it around my wrists, he used the soft fabric to bind me in place. I strained against it, but I couldn’t get out, and something about that restriction was so hot I was having trouble catching my breath. Or remembering to breathe at all.

  “I’ve wanted you like this since I first saw you,” he murmured, once again walking around me like he was admiring his handiwork. A grin curled up on his face, but there was nothing sweet or tender about it. It was the first time I had really seen him this way, and I was already finding myself addicted to it, loving it, craving it.

  He climbed onto the bed with me and lifted my hips up, sliding my panties down my legs and tossing them aside so that I was bare-ass naked in front of him. He was still wearing his jeans, and something about the contrast of his clothed body and my naked one made the power differential even more intense.

  “Spread your legs,” he told me, and I hesitated for a moment before I did as I was told; I had never had anyone look at me, really look at me, when I was this naked. Most of the guys I’d been with before were always hurrying towards the main event at this stage, but he wanted to take his time, and I was a little unaccustomed to dealing with that. But after a moment, I did as I was told and parted my thighs for him and was rewarded with a long, low growl for my troubles.

  “You look so fucking hot like that,” he murmured, moving between my legs; his mouth was slightly parted, as though he could already taste me, but he took his time before he did anything with it, running his hands up and down my legs first, over my lower belly, skimming his fingers over my bush. I was already getting seriously wet, and I just wanted some relief, but he was going to make me beg for it, I could tell. I wriggled on the bed again, fighting the urge to push my pussy up towards him, to find that relief that I needed so very badly. But I knew it would be worth my while if I could just hold myself back, just for a little longer, just until—

  His mouth found the inside of my thigh, and I felt as though I was going to burst into flames. I bit my lip, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing that this was getting me off so damn well. How could he do this so torturously? Wasn’t he getting there himself? He must have been hard, and yet he was acting as though he was in total and utter control of himself where I was falling apart.

  “Ask me,” he commanded, and I swallowed heavily and tried to remember how exactly to form words.

  “I …” I searched the words to articulate what I knew I needed to. They came up short.

  “Tell me, Nina,” he ordered me, and the sound of my name on his lips was nearly painful. I tried again.

  “I want you to go down on me.” I finally came out with it, and the desperation that tinged my voice was thick. The chemistry between us felt like it was pressing down on me, consuming me, controlling me.

  “Again,” he told me, and I could feel the hint of his breath on my pussy.

  I groaned. “Please, Logan,” I pleaded with him. “I need you to … I need you to eat me out …”

  And finally, he pressed his mouth to my cunt, and I felt as though every nerve ending in my body had centered between my legs.

  I tipped my head back and let out a cry of pleasure as he slipped his hands beneath my ass and drew me to his mouth. He sucked softly on my clit, the pressure intense after this much build-up, and I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling, trying to remind myself that this was really happening, to bring myself back to the moment. I looked down at him, and the sight of his mouth buried against my pussy was nearly more than I could handle. I wanted him with such an agonizing intensity that even this wasn’t enough. I began to move my hips back against him, demanding that release, and he met me as best he could, sucking and licking and lapping and using me like every part of his life depended on it.

  “Oh my God, Logan,” I groaned. The pleasure wasn’t coming fast enough—I could have come on the spot and still felt that craving, that ache for more. He trailed his tongue lazily across my clit and then lifted his hand so that he could slide his fingers in a V-shape over either side of my over-sensitized nub; the tension, the feeling of it pulled taut, made my skin prickle with need.

  “Please, please, please,” I panted. I didn’t know what else I could say, how else I could communicate that I needed this orgasm, needed him to make me come. He looked up at me, and I could see the gloss of my wetness on his lips, and that was nearly enough to push me over the edge right then and there. Finally, he lowered his
mouth down to me once more, and this time he seemed intent on making me come, licking in slow, persistent strokes with his softened tongue, and I felt the orgasm stirring inside of me, tensing my muscles, filling my senses, my head feeling as though it was about to explode on the spot—

  “Fuck!” I yelled at the top of my lungs as the orgasm hit me, for once not having to worry about keeping my voice down. The pleasure took me off-guard, my body feeling like it was spinning out of control, passing over me in long, luscious waves. I wanted to grasp his head, to touch him and hold him and feel him, but my arms were still bound above me, and I couldn’t do anything but lie there, helpless, as he continued to go down on me.

  I wasn’t sure how many times he made me come with his mouth. Not many men could have taken me that far—the sensitivity would usually grow much too fast, and I would need to take a break for a while to calm down between orgasms, but he knew just how to take me, tease me, going so softly after I’d come and applying pressure again until I found myself cresting towards a climax once more. It got so that I could barely tell them apart, feeling them writhe into each other, groaning and gasping and helpless to his touch.

  He eventually pulled back when my moans had been reduced to something more human, and he moved on top of me, kissing me softly on the cheek as I caught my breath and returned down to Earth.

  “You okay?” he asked, and it took me a good long moment to be able to actually say anything to him. My brain felt as though it had been switched off, or at least switched to some new plane, somewhere I had never been before, where there was nothing but pleasure and him and the feeling of his body against mine.

  “Amazing,” I finally replied, and I hooked an ankle around him and drew him towards me. I needed more, and I needed it now, and he seemed all too happy to give me what I wanted.

  “Please,” I murmured once more, knowing now how much power those words had over him, and he didn’t need telling twice; he reached across to grab a condom and swiftly sheathed himself, kicking off the rest of his clothes as he did so. And then, to my surprise, he unbound my arms and released me. I flexed my wrists back and forth a couple of times and grinned at him.

  “You want my hands free, huh?” I teased, and he grabbed me by the hips and flipped me over; I pushed myself up on my trembling arms, even though I felt like they were going to give out beneath me. The strength had been sapped from my body, and yet all I wanted, all I wanted in the world was more.

  He ran his hands over my ass and my thighs and my back and let out a small groan of appreciation. I grinned and wiggled my butt back and forth a little, letting him know that I was ready for whatever he wanted to give to me. He didn’t need telling twice. I craned over my shoulder to see him taking his cock into his hand and guiding it against my pussy; I was so wet that it just slid all the way in, my slickness taking him, and I moaned softly as he entered me for the first time.

  “Oh my God,” I groaned, and he ran his hands over my body, holding himself still, moving his fingers beneath me so that he could pinch my nipples; the sharpness of the pain mixed with the mellowness of the pleasure was doing things to me, things I had never felt before. Sure, fucking him had always been good, but when he had the chance to take his time and plan everything out like this, it was incredible.

  I waited for him to begin moving inside of me, but he didn’t. Instead, he wrapped his hand in my hair and tugged slightly, pulling my head back a few inches. The feel of him within me but not moving an inch was intense, more intense than I was ready for. I needed him to fuck me deep and hard, but he was still, and it was driving me crazy. He leaned down so that his mouth was as close to my ear as he could get it, and then he spoke.

  “Fuck yourself on my cock,” he ordered me. And as soon as the words were out of his mouth, I started doing as I was told.

  It was awkward at first since I had never really done anything like this before, finding a way to move my hips back and forth against him in a way that felt good for both of us, but he used the hand in my hair and one on my hip to guide me, and soon enough the two of us had fallen into a pace. And holy hell, did it feel good—when he was doing me from this angle, his cock felt bigger and thicker than normal, my pussy tighter around him, and him letting me set the pace just made it all the easier to take him, to take as much of him as I could manage.

  “You look so fucking hot like that,” he growled, tugging harder on my hair, and I moved back against him with more purpose, bouncing myself on him hard—my mouth was open, and my eyes were glazed over, and I wondered what kind of headspace this was for me—how I had never been here before, and the route to get back to it again. I had never felt pleasure like it, pleasure that seemed to consume my entire body like he was setting me alight. And I was greedy for more.

  I pushed back against him, his cock filling me completely, and ground my hips at his base for a moment; I could already feel the next orgasm, needy and desperate, growing inside of me, but I needed his help in getting there. And he was all too willing to give it.

  “You’re such a good girl, Nina,” he murmured as he slipped the hand on my hip between my legs and started playing with my clit. The mix of sensations was explosive, and I had to grit my teeth to keep from crying out.

  “You want to come, baby?” he asked me, as though he needed to. I nodded. I knew he needed me to speak, but the power of language had once again escaped me.

  “Say it.” He slowed his strokes on my clit and thrust shallowly a couple of times into my pussy.

  “Ah …” I groaned, the pleasure making my head hurt, my body ache.

  “Tell me, Nina,” he ordered, and I bit my lip and finally delved back into that place where my brain worked.

  “I need to come,” I pleaded with him. He seemed to like me like this, begging him, asking him for a little mercy, and I would have done anything he wanted at that moment if it meant that I could find my sweet release.

  “Then come for me, baby,” he murmured, and I could hear that cocky grin in his voice—and before I could stop myself, the sound of his words had pushed me over the edge, Logan thrusting hard inside me as my pussy clenched and my body came to life all over again. He tugged my head back sharply, drawing me on to him hard, and then found his own release deep inside me, burying his cock all the way into me and holding himself there as the two of us came back to reality.

  He slipped himself out of me slowly, and I collapsed forward on to the bed as he went to get rid of the condom. I could hardly breathe, the pleasure casting a long shadow over my entire being. I was drowsy at once, my body exhausted, but as soon as he emerged from the bathroom back into the bedroom, I grinned at him.

  “Hey,” I offered him nervously. I had no idea why I was feeling nervous, but I was a little embarrassed that he could make me come so hard, so many times—it felt so intimate, something I had never shared with anyone else before in my life.

  “Hey,” he replied, and he smiled as he reached over to me and brushed the hair back from my face. Given what he’d just done to me, that felt so intimate, so tender, that it made something in me feel like it was melting. Maybe it was the last thing that I had been keeping between myself and actually falling for this guy, actually letting him in.

  “That was amazing,” I breathed, flipping onto my back and grinning at the ceiling. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”

  “Trust me, if you’re into that, there’s so much more I can show you,” he promised me, propping himself up on his arm. “You wouldn’t believe the kind of stuff …”

  “And I bet you’ve had plenty of practice, huh?” I teased as he trailed off, clearly realizing that he was about to dump himself right in the middle of admitting he’d been quite the player back in the day. He furrowed his brow at me, but I waved my hand.

  “Hey, don’t worry about it,” I assured him. “Ant told me you were getting around a lot before you had Erin. It’s not a big deal.”

  “Maybe that’s why she kept us apart,” he remarked, and
I nodded

  “I think it was,” I agreed. “She just wanted what was best for both of us.”

  We both fell silent for a long moment, and I knew the same thoughts were running through both our heads—what the hell would Ant do if she found out that the two of us were … well, that we were doing whatever we were doing right now? I had a feeling she wouldn’t take kindly to it, even if I assured her that it was real and that I had feelings for Logan and wasn’t just in it for the cheap thrill. Which would have been the first time I’d admitted those words out loud. Or even really let myself think them.

  I looked down at the clothes piled up where I had taken them off earlier and glanced at Logan.

  “I guess I should think about getting out of here soon, huh?” I remarked. “I don’t want to be in this state when Erin gets home.”

  “Come on, I’ll make you a coffee,” he told me, offering me a hand, and pulling me upright. “Least I can do.”

  “I think I do need to restore my fluids,” I agreed.

  He chuckled. “That’s total filth, and I won’t have it in my house,” he replied play-sternly,” and I laughed.

  “And what would you call what you just did, then?” I demanded, and he shrugged and winked.

  “Generosity?” he replied, and he tossed me my clothes. “Go on, get dressed.”

  I pulled on my clothes, and he did the same, and I felt that little flutter of something being alone with him like this. I couldn’t have put it into words if I tried, but I knew it was … I knew it was something big. Serious. But it didn’t feel heavy. It felt as though I could have carried it with me for miles.

  He headed to the kitchen to make me a coffee, still stripped to the waist, and I took a seat at the table and watched him. I just liked being around him like this, there was no other way to put it: there was something peaceful and calm about having him to myself. I liked Erin, more than I had ever thought I would like a kid but having her daddy one-on-one was a special kind of treat.

  He served me my coffee, and the two of us sat and chatted for a little while; just about the city, the weather, nothing serious, but I was giddy the whole time. This felt like dating. It really felt like dating.