by Autumn Grey
“So which one is it going to be, Little Wolf? Staying or leaving?” I challenge her. I should stop taunting her. This is what I wanted, as well, right? Just a night of blissful fucking to get each other out of our systems so we can both go back to normal.
Right?
Then why am I am trying to convince her otherwise?
Her eyes fall shut, her tongue peeking out to lick her lips. Fuck, those lips, around my cock—
“Staying,” she says, opening her eyes and meeting mine head-on. Her mouth curls up to one side, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Shut up already and make me come.”
I laugh, pressing my forehead on her stomach, grinning like a teen who’s browsing his stash of porn.
Holy hell.
My girl has spunk and a backbone. If she’s like this in bed, I might end up blowing my load even before my cock is buried inside her.
Nudging her blouse up with my nose, I press my mouth on her skin and suck hard. My tongue circles her navel, my teeth nipping gently.
She gasps, followed by a sigh, my name sounding breathless passing through her lips, her fingers gripping my hair and knees buckling. But somehow she straightens, whispering my name again in that voice that has me groaning, craving to flip her on her back on the couch and fuck her mercilessly.
“So soft,” I murmur, rubbing my nose on her stomach. My hands skim her thighs, sliding up, up. She groans just as my fingers glide between her legs.
I freeze when my fingertips graze the bare skin there, my head snapping up. Her head is thrown back in bliss, her mouth parted, little pants of need escaping her mouth.
“No panties, Miss Blake?”
Her head rolls forward and she smiles. “Surprise.”
“Fuck, yeah.” I chuckle. “Surprise indeed.”
Unpredictable as ever. Naughty, Miss Blake.
A thought occurs to me, and my body tenses. “Wait. Did you walk around like this the whole day?”
Her lips twitch as she says, “Yeah. Why? Oh my God! Do you think people could see my butt?”
I grit my teeth, her words casting images of hungry-eyed assholes jerking off to her ass. My hands curl into fists.
She snorts, escalating quickly to a full-blown laugh. That sound sinks into my chest, and just for a moment, everything around me disappears. Just me and her. She looks so carefree, happy.
For the second time since she walked in, I’m at a loss for words.
She’s breathtaking.
When she’s calm enough to talk, she says between a burst of giggles, “Calm down, Conan. We don’t want that throbbing vein on your forehead exploding.”
Slowly, I move my hands up to cup her breasts through her blouse and squeeze them together, then bury my face between them to hide my grin, inhaling that lime scent and groan, “Did you go commando the whole day?”
She doesn’t answer immediately, and I’m going crazy. Why the hell does it bother me so much?
After what feels like hours and I’m two seconds away from flipping her on her back, injured arm or not, and fucking the truth out of her, she whispers in a shaky, husky voice, “No.”
“Good.” My body relaxes.
Shit. I’ve got it bad for this chick.
I grip her hips and yank her down on my lap at the same time, pain shooting through my shoulder and settling heavily on my right arm.
“Goddamnit!” I yell.
She flinches, her body tensing, her eyes flying to mine. What I see in their depths freezes the blood in my veins.
Panic.
Then her eyes slam shut, and she inhales a shaky breath.
“Did I hurt you?” I ask, air locked in my throat. The thought of causing her pain makes my chest tense up.
She opens her eyes, attempts to smile. But I can still see the lingering panic in them. I wonder who put that fear in her eyes.
Who the hell hurt you, Little Wolf?
“We don’t have to do this,” I say gently, trailing a finger on her top full lip. “I really enjoy kissing you. We could just hang out. And kiss. And cuddle.”
She eyes me as if I’ve suddenly gone crazy. “Cuddle?”
I flash her a wolfish grin, and her body practically melts on my lap. “I may not look all fuzzy and warm, but I love to cuddle.”
She snort-laughs, then murmurs, “Who would have thought?” Then loudly, she declares, “I want this. I haven’t stopped thinking about you. About having sex with you. I just panicked a little, but I’m fine now. I promise—”
I cut her off with a quick kiss. She gasps into my mouth, but before she can deepen the kiss, I tear my lips from hers and fight the urge to ask her who did this to her. I have a feeling if I voice my thoughts, she will run. So I don’t. Instead, I cup her face in my hands and pull her mouth down to mine. This time, the kiss is soft, my eyes never leaving hers. Air rushes out of her mouth, her eyes never leaving mine.
“Thank you,” she whispers against my lips.
I have no idea why she’s thanking me, but I don’t want her to regret her words.
My mouth leaves hers, trailing kisses along her jaw, her cheek. Her body starts to tremble, her fingers sliding up to grab my biceps so hard I have to bite back a wince. I don’t stop her. The heat and wetness soaking the front of my pants is worth it.
When my lips brush her earlobe, her thighs clench around mine, her breathing erratic.
“I’ll never hurt you, Elon. Trust me. Open yourself up for me. Trust me,” I whisper in her ear, then lean back to meet her eyes. “Can you do that for me?”
She studies me with those big, expressive eyes, her chest rising and falling fast. She nods, smiling shyly, and my poor heart flips inside my chest. “I trust you.”
I breathe out long and hard, shifting my body and aligning my cock to the heat between her legs.
“You’re so wet,” I murmur hoarsely in her ear. “I need to make you come before I blow my load in my pants. I’m going to make this so good for you, Elon.”
She lets out this cute little moan that has my hand grabbing the hem of her skirt and lifting the material up. With shaking fingers, I trace her inner thigh and growl when my fingers find her pussy.
“Shit, Miss Blake. I want to see you,” I growl, stroking the trimmed hair down there. “Hold on tight,” I warn before reaching to the side of the recliner and pulling the release handle.
ONCE THE CHAIR ARCHES BACK, I unlace my shoes and slip them from my feet. They fall to the carpeted floor with a soft thud.
Nate shoots a heated look between my now-parted thighs. He makes this sexy sound in the back of his throat that has more wetness pooling where I want him to touch me.
When he lifts those dark eyes to mine, hungry fingers tug the hem of my shirt, my heartbeat reaches a crescendo, but then he grimaces, dropping his right arm down at his side with a hissed “motherfucker.”
I freeze. “Crap! Your arm.” I scoot down lower, and he winces. Belatedly, I realize his very hard cock is wedged between my butt cheeks. “Sorry!”
“Don’t move,” he commands, eyes flipping shut.
I stop, my palms pressed flat on his thick torso, our breathing mirroring each other’s as it fills the room, erratic, needy. My body is ready to worship on the altar of this man because holy shit. Have you seen the cock on him?
I force myself to calm down and scowl at Nate. “Why didn’t you say something?” His cock twitches, and I jerk in surprise. “I was about to ride you like a cowgirl, and you were in pain the whole time.”
His eyebrows jump to his hairline before he guffaws. “Ride me like a cowgirl?”
Heat slaps my cheeks, but I don’t let it distract me. I mumble, “I subscribe to an online magazine. . .hey! Don’t change the subject.”
He shakes his head, still chuckling. “It’s not so bad. It will pass.” Inhaling deeply, he asks, “So what else do you want to do to me?”
Eyeing him beneath my lashes, I grin, move down his legs and start unbuckling his pants and pulling down the zipper. He
sucks in an inhale when I push his pants and boxers down his toned thighs, reach inside and take out his cock.
Without pulling my gaze from his, I lower my head. “This.” My lips circle the tip. My tongue sweeps the length of his impressive cock, trying to remember what comes next. I’ve never done this before. Rick loathed oral sex.
I must be doing something right because Nate growls deep in his throat and yells, “Fucccck! I knew your mouth would feel perfect around my dick.”
I feel strong fingers grip my head, and his hips jerk up as he shoves himself inside my mouth, groaning with every thrust. His hold tightens almost painfully as he lifts my head.
“Enough,” he shouts gruffly. I lick my lips, smiling, proudly watching him. “I want you on the couch.” He jerks his chin to the right, releases my hair and sits up. After zipping up his pants, he stands up in one swift move with his left arm around me. “Legs around my waist.”
“But the pain—”
“I will live,” he grunts, strong jaw clenched as he strides forward but seems to change his mind and stalks toward a darkened hall and stops in front of the first door on the right.
He pushes the door open with his foot, enters and murmurs, “The switch is on your right.”
Immediately, the room is bathed in soft lighting. Quickly I take in the passing scenery as his long legs eat up the distance between the door and the large, black bed in the middle of the room. When we reach the edge of the bed, he tosses me on it. I land on my back, a yelp escaping my lips, bouncing a few times. I’m glad he doesn’t handle me like I’ll break. He said he’ll never hurt me, and I believe him. It’s weird since I have known him for only a few weeks.
Since meeting him, I’ve come to realize Nate loves it when I surprise him or challenge him. So I sit up quickly, crawl forward and tug the zipper down, then slide down his pants and boxers. He lifts his long legs and steps out of his clothing without a word, then he removes his watch and sets it on the dresser.
I unbutton his shirt, eager to touch him, but his fingers close around my wrist. His stares at me keenly, the heat from before replaced by something I can’t put a finger on. Uncertainty? Vulnerability? I cannot imagine why he’d feel this way. He oozes perfection. He’s hot beyond words.
He eyes me, his grip on my wrist tightens a little, then loosens. Exhaling a long breath through his mouth, he nods.
The second I push the material over his shoulders, I gasp. My hand flies to cover my mouth as I take in two pink scars on the right side of his upper body: one on his bicep and another on his right shoulder below the clavicle.
Now I understand the look on his face.
“Oh God, Nathaniel,” I whisper. I bring my hands toward him but stop when he winces and pulls back. “C-can I touch you?”
His throat moves as he swallows audibly, watching me apprehensively. I wait, air suspended in my throat, hoping he’ll say yes because dear God, the need to soothe him with my touch surpasses wanting him inside me. Or even breathing.
After what feels like years, he licks his lips nervously and nods. My palms hover on top his chest, moving up without touching him. The second my finger brushes the scar on his right shoulder, his body shakes violently.
“Elon,” he hisses under his breath, his eyes shutting tightly.
I don’t stop though, even when he breathes my name in a broken whisper, still shaking. My hand glides over his chest, over his shoulder and pauses when I feel a soft scar.
Exit wound.
His eyes are no longer focused on me when I pull back, so I cup his strong jaw, angling his face to mine and kiss him. My lips move against his, softly, then insistently. At first he resists, then he gives in, parting his mouth, allowing me entrance.
“Don’t kiss me out of pity, Miss Blake,” he mutters against my lips.
“Pity?” I press my forehead to his. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to bang your brains out?”
He blinks in surprise, then laughs.
Mission accomplished.
“Allow me to show you how much I want this.” I kiss the side of his mouth. Kiss the two scars on his shoulder and bicep. His body arches up, chasing my lips as his fingers grip my hair. “With you.”
He’s looking at me like he’s seeing me for the first time. “You’re something else, Elon.” He flexes his thighs and smirks. “Bang my brains out.”
I tug the shirt down his shoulders and arms and fold it on top of the pants and place them on top of the nearby chestnut brown two-seater. I feel his eyes on me the entire time, the heat coming off him palpable.
I guide him to the bed, gently shoving his chest to lie on his back, making sure to take care of his shoulder, then I slowly pull down my skirt.
My fingers grip the hem of my shirt, ready to pull it over my head.
Shit. Can I really do this? If Nate sees what’s on my back, he’ll either (1) be appalled or (2) start asking questions I’m not ready to answer.
He senses my hesitation, grasps my thigh and gives it a squeeze. “Take off your shirt.”
Maybe I can switch off the lights. Or maybe if I am on top, he won’t be able to see it. Just one night of pure pleasure, that’s what I need. We need.
He frowns. “Do you have like three nipples or something? Or two belly buttons?” His eyes go wide. “Holy shit! You have triple nipple? That is so hot—”
“Oh my God! You are a freak!” I cut him off with a laugh. Seeing this easy-going side of him is so refreshing. Adorable, actually. But from the concern he’s trying to hide behind that smirk, I won’t be able to keep this up. So I grab the hem of my shirt and slide it over my head, fold it and set it beside his clothing.
“Condom in the first drawer.” He points at the nightstand with his chin. I retrieve it and tear the foil, then dart him a questioning look. He nods, and I roll the condom around his cock.
His hands land on my hips, and he yanks me up his chest. I almost topple over. My gaze flies to his determined one. If he’s experiencing any pain in his shoulder, I can’t tell. His eyes are darker, hungrier, his mouth parted, teeth bared as if he’s ready to eat me whole.
Jesus.
I’ve never seen anything sexier in my life. The reason I wanted to be on top, other than making sure he doesn’t see what’s on my back, was to make sure he doesn’t strain his arm too much.
Once Nate positions me where he wants me, my pussy hovering above his mouth, he lets out a satisfactory grunt, muttering, “Fuck yeah. I knew you’d be so beautiful like this.” Hot air from his mouth brushes across my sensitive skin as his tongue flicks out to lick down my slit. My head falls back, eyes shut tight, whimpering, moaning, my thighs clenching in anticipation.
If I continue looking at him, his gleaming eyes, that wicked mouth, I might come before I’m ready. I want to prolong this for as long as possible.
I can feel his teeth now, teasing my clit. His tongue again, thrusting into me. His fingers replace his teeth, rolling the little bud of nerves between them, before pulling out his tongue and shoving one finger inside me.
“Look at me.” His words, the hoarseness in his voice, send another wave of bliss through me and I almost shatter. Almost.
I do as I’m told, forgetting to breathe when my eyes collide with his. I take a mental picture of him like this—smiling languidly up at me, his face flushed, need pouring out in waves—and save it for later.
He shoves a second finger inside me, pumping in and out, deeper, faster. My hands fly to my breasts, but his hand is already there, pushing mine aside. His fingers roll my nipple hard, causing a cry to fly out of my lips. Pain, pleasure. I feel all of it. His teeth graze my inner thigh and bite down hard. I clench against his fingers and come apart in his mouth so hard, shouting his name. He pulls his fingers from inside me in time to catch my slumping body before my full weight lands on his shoulder, and he lays me at his side, then licks his fingers clean. I can’t look away.
I’ve died and gone to heaven. Seriously.
“Go
d, you’re even more beautiful when you come,” he declares, lifting his head and kissing my shoulder, edging down, down—
I flip around on my back, ignoring the confused look in his eyes and take his face in my hands and kiss him, opening my mouth, allowing him entry. He takes my cue, crawls on top of me, nudges my legs apart with his knee and plants his body between them. A groan rumbles in his chest as his cock comes in contact with my pussy, that sound sending more heat between my legs.
Without his eyes leaving mine, he enters me slowly. I hold my breath, trying not to wince as I do my best to accommodate him.
When he’s fully seated inside me, Nate grasps my face in his large hands, crashes his lips to mine without warning, thrusting his tongue into my mouth, tangling with mine. He kisses me, a short snarl pouring into my lips like he’s angry, punishing me and fucking my mouth all at the same time. God, he’s addictive. The need to make him feel what I’m feeling shoots through me. I sink my fingers into his hair and pull. A sharp hiss leaves his mouth and pours into mine. Then he chuckles that dark sinful laugh from earlier before biting my lip.
He starts to move inside me, our mouths still connected, our fingers still clutching onto each other. He pulls out, then pushes inside me. In and out. Slowly, torturously.
My hands leave his hair and land on his tight ass. The way he’s moving, the way he’s making me feel, I just want him to ravish me without holding back. I want to watch him as he comes apart.
“Don’t hold back,” I utter when he lifts his head to stare down at me, sweat peppering his forehead.
I trust him, I remind myself.
He’s not that asshole Rick. Nate would never hurt me. I feel it in my bones every time he looks at me.
“I want this to be perfect fo—”
“Nathaniel,” I cut him off and his eyes narrow, a muscle ticking in his jaw. That look! I’ve never been so turned on. “I don’t want perfect right now. I want you. All of you, whatever way I can get you. Do. Not. Hold. Back.”
Those words seem to do the trick. Nate drops his body on top of mine, tilting a bit to the side to give me some breathing space.