Ford continued a long heartfelt string of obscenities in a growling frantic voice as I pushed him to the edge of the abyss. He tried to slow me down by tightening his grip in my hair, but I was undeterred and on a mission. I was going to taste him on my tongue if it was the last thing I did. I wrapped both hands around his base, squeezing rhythmically as I relaxed my throat and took him deeply over and over again until his body began to tremble with his impending orgasm.
"I'm about to blow, Jen," he warned me, but my only response was a slight shake of my head, then I deep-throated him once more until I was practically gagging and swallowed. His hands tightened painfully in my hair. "Motherfucker," he snarled out as his body shuddered and convulsed violently. Then he exploded into my eager mouth, his dick jerking and jumping as a wash of wet heat filled my mouth. I shivered and groaned in delight as I swallowed down every drop he gave me, reveling in the taste of him and his loss of control.
Before I could even finish cleaning him with my tongue, he was hauling me up onto my feet. He pulled me into his arms and kissed me with bruising unrestrained force, until I wrapped my arms around his wide neck and went limp in his arms. He was the only thing holding me up now.
"Now it's my turn," he snarled harshly against my lips. He scooped me up again, stalked across the room, and carried me into what I assumed was his bedroom. I ended up standing next to his bed as he unzipped my skirt and pushed it down my hips until it fell to the floor. He quickly removed my bra and matching nude lace thong in a harried rush. Then his eyes about bulged out of his head when I reached up and began pinching and squeezing my already taut nipples.
"Holy hell, woman. What the fuck are you doing to me?" he mumbled under his breath with an awed expression as he eyed me up and down.
"Taunting you," I murmured seductively.
"I'll show you taunting, woman." I watched with rapt attention as he pulled his black tank top over his head and tossed it away. The tattoos that ended at his shoulders framed an ink-free chest and abs that were mouthwatering, chiseled, and toned into granite slabs of muscle.
"Holy shit," I breathed out as a wide appreciative smile slid across my face. "I think I just came."
"Not yet, honey," he rumbled out with a grin as he kicked off his boots. He pushed his jeans and boxers off in a rush along with his socks, and his already hardening cock struck me speechless as he straightened. He was going to be ready to go again very very soon. This was my lucky day.
He surged forward, and plastered himself against me, my breasts crushed against the hard planes of his upper body. He gave me a brief yet fierce kiss then pushed me backwards roughly until I sat on my ass on the edge of his bed. His cock was right at eye level and hardening by the second.
He knelt by the bed, grabbed my knees, and yanked me toward him until my ass was almost off the edge of the bed. He pushed my knees apart roughly, and lifted them with his hands until my blue snake-skin pumps were raised up into the air. I leaned back onto my elbows to keep my fresh tattoo off the mattress, and watched him stare down at my pussy as he sucked his lower lip into his mouth in anticipation.
"Damn, woman," he snarled. "You are fucking gorgeous." He leaned in and inhaled deeply. He hummed with pleasure. "You smell so good, Jen." Then his tongue delved down, and he licked me from bottom to top as his fingers dug into my skin, holding me still. Deep rumbling moans of pleasure vibrated against my aching core, and I couldn't stop the gasp that spilled out of me. "You taste like candy. So sweet, Jen."
His tongue unerringly found my clit, and he started working it like a fiend. The man's tongue was gifted and utterly magical. My first orgasm started to build almost immediately, coming quickly to its crest and just about to tumble over, when he backed off. I growled at him in frustration, but his only reply was a dark sexy chuckle. Then he did it again, and again. He was sadistic and thorough, getting me to the edge quicker each time, before leaving me dangling over the cliff into paradise. I started swearing at him and pushing at his shoulders with the toes of my shoes, but he never budged.
Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. "Please, Ford," I pleaded desperately. "I'm begging you, for fuck's sake let me come, damn it. Please, please, please, please. I'm losing my fucking mind here."
He lifted his head and gave me a triumphantly smug grin. "I told you that I'd have you begging for it." I flipped him off with a smile. "It would be my pleasure very soon," he said with a smirk. He pressed down hard on my clit, his tongue wide and flattened. He growled, and the vibration was all it took to tip me over the edge.
A blast of earth-shattering mind-blowing pleasure streaked through me like a bolt of lightning. A wailing shriek flew out of my mouth, and I barely remembered to keep my tattoo up off the mattress. It went on and on and on, my back arching and my body convulsing uncontrollably. It felt like Ford was the only thing that existed as my mind flew apart then snapped back together sending a shuddering wave through my entire body.
"Get on your hands and knees on the bed," Ford rumbled commandingly, and I was still too lost in the aftermath of my release to argue with him, so I obeyed. I vaguely heard the sound of a drawer opening and the sound of a foil packet opening, and I knew what was next. Oh yeah, here comes the good stuff. I shivered in anticipation as the mattress dipped from his added weight. I felt his big warm body press against the backs of my thighs and my ass, the head of his cock bumping and teasing at my soaked pussy.
Ford's hands glided up the outsides of my thighs from my knees up to my ass in a smooth caress that continued along my sides and ended with him palming my breasts roughly. I pushed my ass back into him, trying to hurry things along. He ignored me and bent his body over mine, his thumbs and forefingers rolling my nipples languidly.
"So impatient," he murmured in my ear, his voice low and incredibly sexual. It made my core clench and a whimper spill out of me. "Maybe I should edge you for a while again, to punish you and teach you a lesson."
"Edge me?" I asked in confusion.
"Take you right to the edge of release repeatedly without letting you come, just like I did with my tongue." His tongue ran up the outer edge of my ear, making me moan in need. "I can do that with my dick too, honey." I whimpered out a desperate denial. I couldn't take that again. He let out a dark chuckle. "Maybe next time, huh?"
"Please, just fuck me now," I practically sobbed out. "Please, Ford. Just fucking do it. Please." His hands released my breasts, one grabbing my hip as the other began rubbing the head of his dick through my wet folds.
"And that's called topping from the bottom, Jen," Ford growled out with a hint of amusement in his tone. "I should punish you for that too."
"W...what?" I asked, confused again. What the hell was he talking about? Instead of answering me, he started slowly pushing himself into me. I whined impatiently again.
"We have to do this slowly, honey," he said in a strained voice. "I'm big and I don't want to hurt you." He was right of course, but I was too aroused to care.
"Please, Ford." I was beyond anything but shameless begging now. "Oh, please." He held me still when I tried to push back against him. He slid in further, and the tight fullness was almost painful. Thank God, he wasn't listening to me. This time, I tried to pull away.
"Do you need me to stop, Jen?" he asked as he paused instantly. He reached up and rubbed my back soothingly. Did I? I reassessed myself. The tightness was still there, but the threat of actual pain was gone now.
"I'm...I'm good." I think I was nodding, but I wasn't sure. He continued pushing into me again, this time I held still and let him control the speed. It was his cock, and I decided to trust that he knew what he was doing with it. When he finally reached the end of me, he held perfectly still as he let me adjust. I was panting raggedly now, with pent up arousal and desperate need.
"Are you ready?" he asked hoarsely, his voice sounding like he was barely holding on. It was nice to know that I wasn't the only one on the edge here.
"Oh fuck yes," I gasped out. "Oh God, please
, Ford. Fuck. Me."
He snarled as he pulled his hips back, then snapped them forward, burying himself deep and sending me flying into euphoric bliss. He set a punishing pace after that, driving into me again and again, orgasm after orgasm blasting through me.
"So fucking good, Jen," Ford started snarling out. "So goddamn tight. Such a good girl, such a perfect fucking pussy. Motherfucker, it feels so goddamn good." He continued his nasty filthy play by play, his words pushing me into a climax as much as his body inside me. It was the hottest thing I had ever heard or felt, and I feared he was ruining me for all other men.
Suddenly, he clammed up, his cock swelling even bigger inside me. His fingers dug into my hips, and he ignited in a bellow of unfettered release. His cry of pleasure and the feel of his dick jerking and pressing deeply into me set me off one more time. My vision went white as pleasure seared through me, my scream overshadowing Ford's groan of completion.
The next thing I knew, I was under the blankets with Ford's big warm body wrapped around me, holding me close and murmuring sweet words of sated bliss to me. Then I felt massive fatigue crash down on me, and I was out cold.
**********
There was a heavy weight lying across my stomach that woke me up. I forced my eyes open and looked down at a large muscled arm covered in tattoos draped across my belly. Where the hell was I? I glanced around the room lit up in the early-morning sunlight that poured in through the windows. Oh yeah, I was in Ford's apartment. The walls in his room were a grayish blue with white trim. The bedding I was covered with was a deep indigo that reminded me of Ford's eyes. The art on the walls were masculine and eclectic. The room suited him perfectly.
I looked down at Ford's arm and ended up staring right at a tattoo of an old black pickup truck on his massive bicep. I wondered if this was one of his tattoos of profound stupidity. And speaking of profound stupidity, I had just fucked the guy who gave me the tattoo that was supposed to symbolize a change in my life. Now my tattoo symbolized my idiocy and lack of self-control. Shame coursed through me. I should have gone straight home last night.
I looked to my right and saw that Ford was sound asleep on his stomach next to me. His face was turned toward me, several locks of his chin-length blond hair falling across his face. He really was a gorgeous man. I took a moment to admire his features, remembering the way his full lips felt on my body and the way his deep-set indigo eyes looked at me. I thought about one part of his body, in particular, and how it felt inside me. It made me shudder. We ended up having sex three times before calling it a night. He was incredible. I'd never been with a man who could recover that quickly, let alone do it that many times in one night. I shivered as I remembered the feel of the orgasms he'd given me, particularly the last one because he'd built that one up with slow methodical skill. It was almost like he made love to me. I reached out to brush the hair off his face in an overly familiar gesture, but caught myself before I actually touched him. What the hell was I doing? Holy shit, I'm a clinger.
I needed to get the hell out of here, now. I pried myself out from under Ford's arm and climbed out of the bed. I scanned the floor and found my bra and panties, and hastily put them on. I found my skirt and pulled it on as I looked around for my heels. I ended up finding them under the bed. I slipped them on and headed toward the door quietly, hoping I could successfully sneak out of here. I paused at the foot of the bed to look at Ford.
For once in my life, I didn't really want to leave. However, my shame over this was too great for me to stay, yet I needed to see him one more time since I'd probably never see him again. His back was just as beautiful as the rest of his body, with a massive tattoo that covered his entire muscular back. It was a samurai warrior battling a tiger with his bare hands, stylized to appear like traditional Japanese art. The bright colors and shading were breathtaking, and it must have taken him months to get it. I wondered who gave it to him and what its significance was to Ford. I'd never know, and that thought made me surprisingly sad. Shit, it was definitely time to leave, before I crawled back into bed and had my way with him.
I walked out into his living room. I didn't noticed much about his apartment last night, since I only had eyes for Ford at the time. Now, I took a good look around. The room was painted in the same grayish-blue, with a warm beige couch and recliner. The coffee table and end tables were dark wood and high end. The art was just as eclectic out here, and one, in particular, caught my eye. It was an outline of an old motorcycle in black stretched across three rectangular pieces of wood that matched the golden tones of the hard wood floor. I smiled. Of course, Ford was into motorcycles. It was the first thing about him that didn't surprise me.
I found my camisole and blouse in the living room and finished dressing. I grabbed my purse and tiptoed down the steps. I was just about to enter Ford's office when I remembered the front door was locked, and I'd need a key to unlock it. I stood at the bottom of the steps wondering what to do. There were three doors in front of me, one to my left, another to my right that led to Ford's office, and the other directly in front of me. I tried the one on the left and peeked into a garage. I was unsurprised to spot a motorcycle. There was also an old black pickup that looked oddly familiar. This wouldn't get me out of here so I closed the door. I unlocked and opened the next one. This door opened outside into a small parking area and an alley that must have been the back of Ford's building. Sweet, I'd found my escape.
I locked the door behind me and hurried around to the front of the building. My car was right where I'd left it, and I climbed in. I started the car and was just about to pull away, but I stopped to look at the building again. A blast of regret, shame, and disappointment hit me all at once. Some decision stopping here had been yesterday. My life was still empty and meaningless, the tattoo changing nothing at all. I shook my head in disgust with myself. I put the car in drive and pulled away from the curb, trying to ignore the part of me that already missed Ford.
**********
I just sat down on my couch with my first cup of coffee of the day when someone knocked on my apartment door. I growled irritably. Who was here this early on a Sunday? It was barely nine-thirty. I was not in the mood for people right now.
I showered as soon as I got back from Ford's place, still feeling ashamed of what I did. The hot water made my fresh tattoo burn like crazy, and washing it had been even worse. It felt like a penance. It was still so tender when I got dressed that I ended up throwing on a strapless bra and over-sized T-shirt with my loose-fitting sweatpants, instead of my usual fitted tank top.
I set my mug on my coffee table and headed down the stairs from my second-floor apartment to my front door. I pulled it open to find my brother, Andy, grinning widely at me. He was wearing jeans, and a short-sleeved red and black checked button-down over a gray graphic T-shirt. Of course, he had those damn beat up black Chuck Taylors that he practically lived in on his feet.
"Good morning, sweet sister of mine," he greeted me dramatically. He was always so annoying in the morning. I responded with an eye roll. He eyed me closer with a bemused expression. "You're not dressing like that for brunch are you?"
"Brunch?" I asked him in confusion.
"Mom's birthday brunch?"
"Son of a bitch," I blurted out and turned to hurry back upstairs.
"I'm assuming you forgot." Andy followed close behind me into my living room with obvious amusement in his voice.
"You think?" I asked snidely as I left him there to run into my room. "Just give me a minute to change." Thank God, I already showered. I definitely didn't want to go to brunch with my family smelling like sex. Hot, filthy, dirty sex. I started thinking about the things Ford did to me last night, then put a stop to that line of thinking when I started feeling aroused. My brother was in the next room for heaven's sake.
I slipped on a pair of khaki shorts and a black sleeveless blouse that covered my new tattoo. I didn't want to deal with revealing that to my family just yet. Especially, since just lookin
g at it made me feel ashamed of myself. I hoped that feeling went away soon. It really was a gorgeous tattoo, and I should be happy with it, even if it was colored by what followed afterwords.
"Please tell me you forgot to get her a gift too." Andy called from the living room.
"No," I grumbled as I dug a pair of nude sandals out my closet. Thank God, I bought Mom's gift last weekend. Andy would have never let me live that down.
"Damn, that's too bad," he added with disappointment. "For a second there, I thought I had a real shot this year." We had a yearly running gag to see who gave Mom the best gift. I always won, and Andy was a sore loser.
"You know," I said as I peeked out at him on the way to my bathroom. "If you let Lydia help, then you'd probably win." His wife had excellent taste.
"I am not a fucking cheater," Andy said vehemently as he pointed at me. "Mark my words, one of these years, I'm going to win fair and square without any help from Lydia or anyone else."
"Sure you are," I replied sarcastically with a smirk. I went into the bathroom and pulled my hair up into a high ponytail, put on a little mascara and lip gloss, and was ready to go. I grabbed Mom's gift out of the dresser drawer it was in, then went back out to the living room. "Well, how do I look?"
"Almost as good as me," Andy answered with a smile.
"Thanks." I pursed my lips at him. He was so annoying sometimes.
"Hey, you can't compete with perfection." His grin widened in glee.
I gave him another eye roll. "You're an idiot."
"And you're just jealous of all this." He motioned down his body meaningfully.
"Why does Lydia put up with you?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" He waggled his eyebrows leeringly.
An Act of Restraint: Order & Chaos Book 1 Page 6