by Abby Green
Damn. His heart hadn’t fully come back to normal since he’d heard the low throttle of the bike outside, had gone to look and had seen her getting off. Instead of anger surging up, it had been intense excitement and anticipation.
What she’d just told him had made his chest clutch tight for her. He knew all about traumas, scored so deeply into your soul that they might be there forever. But then he thought of what she’d just said, Let’s take this one fuck at a time, and the tightness eased. That’s all he wanted, too. They were on the same page.
And right now he wanted to lose himself in her and stop thinking about anything else.
“Hey...” Ashling pouted now from the bed. “You made me a promise in the shower—something about screaming for mercy...or more?”
An incendiary image popped into Johnny’s head then and his gaze narrowed on her as the blood pumped to his straining dick, making him even harder.
“I want you naked,” he growled. “Now.”
Ashling drew her T-shirt up and over her head and threw it aside. She put her hands behind her back to undo her bra, arching upward, making those plump, firm swells pout toward him, nipples already hard. Thickly he said, “Leave it on for now.”
Jesus Christ. He was about ready to come and they’d barely touched yet.
“Your jeans.”
Ashling undid her buttons and she wriggled her hips to shimmy her jeans down her thighs. Her belly was flat and toned. Johnny bent forward and helped pull them off, throwing them in the same general direction as her boots.
He came to the end of the bed and pushed her legs apart with his hands, gripping her thighs. He could see her face flush.
Need was like an inferno, burning him up inside. He brought his hands to her lace panties and calmly ripped them apart at the sides. The material came apart easily.
“Hey,” Ashling protested not very vehemently, “I liked them.”
Johnny threw the torn material aside and came down on two hands over her body, but not touching. Not yet. He’d explode.
“Panties are overrated. Now put your hands over your head.”
He saw the flare of interest in her gaze. The way her cheeks flushed more. Obediently she lifted her arms and stretched them out above her head. They rested near the slats of the headboard.
“Don’t move.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
Johnny felt something incredibly light expand his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually had fun with a woman. And with a woman who knew exactly what he was prepared to offer. The same as him.
He eased away from Ashling and stood up. His gaze devoured her. She was all delicate curves with those long slim legs. She had a neatly trimmed cluster of blond curls between her legs, which made his blood fire up even more. Personally he found women who went the full bare monty a turnoff.
He turned and went to his chest of drawers and pulled out a tie. One of the few he owned. He curled it around both hands and came back to the bed slowly, stretching it taut, seeing how Ash’s eyes widened.
She fluttered her eyelashes in mock terror. “Why, sir, what are you going to do with that?
Johnny’s excitement spiked. “I’m going to restrain those distracting little hands of yours.”
“Oh, no, don’t, stop... Please, you can’t...” Ash’s deadpan delivery was about as convincing as her mock terror.
Johnny had to curb a laugh as he came down on the bed and made quick, efficient work of tying her hands together and then off to one of the wooden slats.
He put his arms either side of her and came down close to her face, brushing his mouth lightly over hers. When he drew back he said, “It’s a good thing you weren’t in front of the cameras on the films. That little performance would have earned you a Razzie.”
He reached for an eye mask in his bedside cabinet. He used it sometimes when he slept during the day if he’d been working all night. He slipped it over Ash’s head, settling it over her eyes.
She grumbled now, “Trussing me up like a blind turkey better not just be diversionary tactics because you can’t deliver, Ryan.”
Johnny came up off the bed and looked at Ash, her hands tied together. Eyes hidden. Her body laid out for him. He quickly took off his jeans and grabbed a condom to have it close by. He wouldn’t last long. He knew it.
* * *
I could hear what Johnny was doing—his jeans dropped heavily to the ground. My insides twisted. Christ. This kind of light bondage had never really turned me on before. I’d never felt comfortable with it, too vulnerable. But right now I felt as primed to explode as a firecracker at Mardi Gras.
For a few seconds I heard nothing, and my ears strained to pick up any sound. Then I imagined Johnny looking at me and I shivered.
“Cold, Ash?”
He was obviously surveying me like some kind of concubine. And Jesus, I loved it.
“No, I’m toasty.”
I heard a dark chuckle. And then he moved between my legs. His hands came to my thighs again and pushed them wide. My pussy wept. Literally wept.
Johnny’s voice was low, throaty. “You’re very responsive, Ash. Has anyone ever told you that?”
I shook my head. I couldn’t actually speak. It was as if tiny little needles of sensation were pricking all over my skin. He settled on his knees between my legs, his body pushing my thighs apart more.
I was completely at his mercy now and it felt curiously liberating. I scowled inwardly. No doubt Sigmund Candy Freud would have had a field day with that little nugget.
Johnny’s hands smoothed up my thighs, so slowly that I had to stop my back from arching and my hips swiveling. They went all the way up until his thumbs rested just either side of my pussy.
And then warm breath tickled my inner thigh and his mouth touched me there. His tongue was hot, teeth nipping gently. I could almost sense the blood rushing to the surface, blooming. But mostly it rushed to my clit, which was throbbing gently. My thigh muscles quivered as Johnny’s hand soothed me, as if I was a nervy foal.
Having no sight meant that everything was deliciously heightened. And a part of me was glad that Johnny couldn’t see my eyes because I wasn’t sure I wanted him to read what might be there. This is just a fuck, I repeated to myself.
His thumbs crept closer, over the folds protecting my sex. I could hear the slickness of my juices but was too turned on to be embarrassed. One thumb dipped in, spreading my folds, running up the cleft of my body.
I tensed all over, picturing Johnny studying me. Seeing how aroused I was.
When his rough tongue made contact with my exposed lips, I nearly leaped off the bed, hands pulling tight on the tie. He held me down, though, with those big hands, pushing my thighs apart, opening me up to him. And he was remorseless.
His tongue was like a weapon of mass sensual destruction, exploring my pussy with the kind of thoroughness that wet dreams were made of. When he found and sucked on my clit, my back arched off the bed and my buttocks tightened. I was literally pushing myself onto Johnny’s tongue.
He kept my legs down and apart when I would have tried to bring them together around his head, anything to try to ease the torture, diminish the sensations a little.
“Johnny...” I was panting. Incoherent. But his tongue was thrusting into my clasping pussy now. Thrusting deep.
“Oh, God...” He was going to make me scream and beg.
My hands were curled so tight my nails were scoring my palms painfully. But nothing could take the edge off the pleasure.
And then he took away his tongue and worked two middle fingers inside me, curling them back toward him along the front wall of my vagina. I held my breath. Suspended. He worked them back and forth like that, and then he added his tongue, circling and suckling my clit.
I could feel m
y legs starting to shake. There was a crescendo of sensations building inside me, hurtling me toward something I’d never experienced before. It was so intense that it was almost painful, and the bizarre urge to pee hit me.
I tried to speak but I couldn’t. Too much was going on and all the time Johnny’s mouth was on me and his fingers were working inside me. And then it hit. The longest, most powerful buttocks-clenching orgasm I’d ever experienced. It seemed to go on and on, gushing like a river that had burst its banks and couldn’t stop.
It was only when it had finally subsided and I felt my inner muscles clamping spasmodically around Johnny’s fingers that I had the sense to wonder if I’d just had my first G-spot orgasm.
I’d heard the other makeup and hair girls discussing it one day at work, on set between shots, and I’d felt somehow left out when they’d described how mind-blowing it was. No guy I’d ever been with had seemed to feel the need to spend enough time down there to do the exploratory work, and when I masturbated I usually wanted to get myself off as quickly as possible to relieve the frustration.
But that had been...amazing, I thought dreamily, as I floated on clouds above Johnny’s bed. Right then I would have advocated that the government invest funds in making the G-spot more widely known and accessible. Surely if everyone could come like that the world would be a better place?
Johnny moved up my body, and he pulled off the eye mask. I blinked at him, a little stunned.
“Are you okay?”
I nodded. My throat was scratchy. “That was...that was—”
“I know.” He smiled smugly. “I think you ejaculated.”
My immediate reaction was one of mortification. No wonder I’d felt that gushing sensation. As if sensing my embarrassment, Johnny shook his head and said, “You taste amazing.”
And then it was hard to hang on to mortification because his erection was pressing into me, harder than a steel rod.
He bent down and put his mouth to mine, sliding his tongue deep, giving me the salty, musky tang of my own desire. My hands tightened on the tie. Shit. This shouldn’t be turning me on so much. But it was.
Sex with Johnny was surpassing anything I’d ever experienced. It was just chemistry, that was all, I assured myself. Amazing chemistry, but no less transitory for all that. I hoped.
Johnny’s arms went around me. His whole body was pressed to mine, length to length. His dick was between us and he moved down subtly so that the head rested near my entrance. I could feel that he’d already sheathed himself with protection.
To my shock, my inner muscles quivered in anticipation. As if they hadn’t all just expired from an overdose of pleasure.
He was rocking against me, and the fact that I was so ready again to take him deep inside made me feel ridiculously vulnerable.
“Please untie me.”
He stopped immediately and looked at me with concern. “Are you sore?”
I shook my head, too many feelings swirling in my gut to make sense of now. What we had just done was carnal in the extreme, but it didn’t feel purely physical.
“I just want to be able to touch you.” Which was true. My arms ached to wrap themselves around him and hang on. I needed an anchor. Deftly he reached up and untied me, and when I brought my hands and arms down, they were tingling.
Johnny kissed me again and my arms wrapped around his neck, just as he thrust into me, making me gasp in spite of the lubrication. Slowly he moved in and out.
I wrapped my legs around his waist and he went deeper, emitting a soft groan into my mouth. We were so close I literally could not have said where we began and ended.
Johnny’s hand moved down my back deftly removing my bra, and then he pulled me close, pressing my breasts into his chest. One hand was on my ass, pushing me even closer.
It was intense. The sensual movement of his body within mine kicked up a pace as excitement began to mount. Once again I felt the onset of pleasure rushing toward me.
Johnny took his mouth away and pressed a hot kiss to my neck. He moved down and took a nipple into his mouth, rolling it and sucking. My back arched even more.
His movements were faster now, more powerful. I could hear the slap of skin on skin. My hands were frantic on his back, moving up and down, relishing the feel of his taut muscularity. Hands gripping his buttocks, pushing him even deeper.
And then it was breaking over me again, the incandescent bliss of another climax. I bit into Johnny’s shoulder to hold back a scream just as he said gutturally, “Shite. I can’t hold on.” And then he came in a bucking, jerking rush, hips thrusting powerfully against me as he touched me so deep inside it almost hurt.
I was barely aware of the long minutes we remained joined together as Johnny softened inside me. He was heavy, but I couldn’t seem to unfold my arms and legs from around him.
Eventually he huffed an exhausted-sounding chuckle against my shoulder and lifted his head. “Ash...if you don’t want to suffocate, let me go.”
His words impacted me deep inside where their double meaning mocked me. I needed no further encouragement and unwound my legs and arms. Johnny pulled free and I winced slightly, muscles still burning pleasurably.
He levered himself off the bed and walked with supremely confident male grace to the bathroom. I couldn’t move. I felt flattened, steamrollered. Undone, again.
One thing was uppermost in my head as soon as Johnny disappeared into the bathroom—I had to get out now, because what had just happened had touched me in places that had nothing to do with sex.
And I would move, I told myself...just as soon as I was able to muster up the energy.
* * *
Johnny looked at himself in the mirror of the bathroom. His face was still sex-flushed, eyes wide and almost feverish looking. Crap. What the hell had just happened out there? He felt altered. As if his cells had realigned after orgasm into some new configuration.
All he wanted to do was to go back outside and curl his body around Ash’s and feel those soft yet incredibly lithe curves tuck into his body. A voice mocked him, And then what? Wake up next to her in the morning? He answered the voice snarkily, Hell yeah, so I can fuck her again. And again.
Johnny scowled. He didn’t do postcoital cuddling. He didn’t do lazy morning wake-up sex. But all of a sudden he wanted to.
His hands gripped the sink edge. He had enough on his plate at the moment dealing with the oncoming reunion with his little sister. Familiar guilt lanced him again and he felt slightly sick. The last bitter argument with Mary blasted into his head.
He’d shouted at her. “You’re just a control freak. You can’t see beyond your own tiny mind that it might be possible for me to do something else.”
She’d been white with anger. “You have no idea how hard it’s been for me to take care of you and Caitie. I gave up what I wanted to do, and now you can’t just do this one thing for me.”
“Bollocks to that, Mary, I’m not going to be an architect just to keep you happy. It’s not what I want to do. It’s my life to fuck up if I want. And I’ll tell you what—if I’m such a burden, why don’t I just get out of your hair completely?”
And then he’d seen Caitlin’s tear-stricken face as she’d been standing in the doorway, witness to yet another brutal fight. Johnny could remember pushing past her to get out, his gut in such a dark ball of pain that he couldn’t stand it anymore.
He’d left that day and not gone back. Too ashamed.
Johnny’s hand was gripping the sink so tight that his knuckles shone white and there was faint perspiration on his brow. Suddenly the need to go back out there and curl around Ash disappeared. He needed something else. The only thing that soothed him.
Galvanizing himself, he went back out to the bedroom. “Ash—” His step and voice faltered. Ashling was fast asleep on the bed, but with one l
eg hanging off as if she’d been in the act of getting up.
Her body was naked and spread-eagle and there was something curiously vulnerable about that. Johnny bit off a silent curse as his body responded with predictable force. Christ, he felt like a teenage virgin all over again with his first lover. Rampant.
He padded over and put his hand out to touch her shoulder as if to wake her up. Somehow he knew that if he did wake her, she’d be as eager to go as he was for her to leave. Or was he? At the last second Johnny didn’t shake her shoulder. He pulled up the sheet to cover her body, and he left.
Chapter Nine
When I woke a few hours later I was disoriented. I wasn’t in my own bed, and the fragrant smell of sex was in the air. Immediately my body responded and I felt the twinge and pleasurable ache of muscles that had recently been used well.
I blinked and looked around. Johnny’s apartment. I tensed. Damn. I’d fallen asleep before I could leave. The bed was cold beside me, so Johnny hadn’t been there for a while.
I didn’t like the fact that something disturbingly like disappointment vied with relief. And then I cringed inwardly. Did he think that I’d fallen asleep on purpose? To foster some kind of after-sex intimacy?
I got up and used the bathroom quickly. I avoided looking at my reflection in the mirror but I splashed water on my face. When I came out I sighed at my ruined panties and pulled my jeans and T-shirt on. Just when I was about to pull on my boots, though, I heard a faint hammering noise from downstairs.
Was that where he was? Giving in to curiosity, I explored beyond the apartment door and down the stairs toward the main door. There was another door at the bottom of the stairs, ajar, and the sound of hammering came again.
I pushed the door open and gasped. It was an enormous room with a vast skylight. Wooden furniture and offcuts of wood were everywhere. In the middle of it was Johnny, dressed only in low-slung jeans, wielding a small hammer over a huge chest of drawers.