Slow Play

by Monica Murphy

  I throw myself at him. There’s no other way to describe it. I fling my body at his and he grunts, his arms going around me, catching me before I fall. I find his mouth, my kiss desperate, his all consuming. He kisses me like he’s putting all of his heart and soul into it, his mouth, his tongue hungry for mine. I rub all over him, trying to climb up his body like some sort of crazy woman and he steers us toward the bed, collapsing on top of it and taking me with him.

  “Baby. Baby, slow down,” he whispers, but I can’t. I want him too much. He’s laying on his back, me sprawled over him and I meld my mouth with his, kissing him long and deep. Never wanting it to end.

  The things he says to me, the meaning behind his words, the soulful tone of his voice—he knows just how to crash through all of my defenses. Makes me wonder why I wanted to wait when I can have him, all of him, right now.

  “I want you naked,” I tell him after I break our kiss, sliding down his body so I can shove up his T-shirt, pull on the waistband of his track pants. Our hands are everywhere, bumping into each other as we make quick work of his clothes so the both of us are finally bare. Our legs tangle as he rolls me over, his hips thrusting against mine as he kisses me, his tongue keeping rhythm with his movements.

  I run my hands over the smooth expanse of his back, his muscles bunching beneath my palms. He pulls away from my mouth to kiss my neck, his hands cupping my breasts, thumbs playing with my nipples.

  “You’re not going to believe this,” he mutters against my neck. “But I don’t have a condom.”

  Shocked, I shove at his shoulders so he has no choice but to lift away from me. “Are you serious? You? Tristan Prescott, the player of all players, doesn’t have one condom?”

  He actually looks embarrassed, even downright bashful. “Hey, you’re the one who wanted to take it slow. I was trying to abide by your rules.”

  I touch his cheek and he returns his gaze to mine. “There are no rules when it comes to us.”

  His brows go up. “Is there an us?”

  “I think so,” I say slowly, my heart knocking against my ribs. “Don’t you?”

  Tristan is quiet for so long he makes me nervous. Or should I say—more nervous. I can feel him, his erection pressing against my belly, large and insistent. Nerves claw at my insides at what we’re about to do. There’s no going back. Once we have actual sex, the next moments are telling.

  Will he stick around? Or will he bail? Tristan of the past would totally bail. But Tristan of the past also would never spend as much time with a girl as long as he’s done with me.

  At least, this is according to Kelli.

  “I think so too,” he finally says, just as carefully.

  My smile is tremulous. And my heart is full of utter relief. “Open the bedside table drawer,” I tell him quietly.

  He reaches over me, his chest in my face, his hard cock rubbing against my stomach, leaving a damp, sticky trail. Pulling open the drawer, he looks inside and starts to laugh. “How many do you think we’ll need?”

  Condoms rain all around my head and bounce onto the pillow, making me laugh. “They were a gift from Kelli,” I answer.

  “Really?” He grabs the majority of them off the pillow and throws them back into the drawer, pushing it shut. The few that remain he gathers up and sets on top of the bedside table. “She must think we’re in for a major sex fest.”

  I go hot and shaky at the mere thought of indulging in a major sex fest with Tristan. “That’s not a bad idea.”

  Slowly he readjusts and then thrusts, his cock coming closer to my entrance. “Agreed,” he murmurs, leaning in for a kiss.

  I dodge him and he growls in frustration. “I need to tell you where she got all those condoms.”

  “Who cares?” He starts to kiss my neck again, his mouth wet and hot, his tongue licking at my skin, making me shiver.

  “She found them in Conrad’s closet.” I trace random patterns on Tristan’s chest, playing with the chest hair that grows in between his pecs. He’s so deliciously manly, I can’t get over having him in my bed. Between my legs.

  Tristan goes still, slowly lifting his head. “What was she doing in Conrad’s closet? And how many condoms does he need?”

  I giggle. “That’s the thing. He never brings any girls around, yet he’s beyond prepared. And I have no clue why Kelli was in his closet. I don’t think I want to know.”

  “Probably not,” he mutters before he kisses me again. His tongue slides around mine, circles it, just like his hips move against mine, too. I moan into his mouth, my hands landing on his perfect ass, tugging him closer. I want him inside me. Now.

  I’m tired of waiting. I know exactly what I want.

  Tristan.

  Damn, this girl feels good, wrapped all around me, her long legs curved around mine. She draws her heel up and down, along my calf, heat shooting through my veins at the simple touch. My cock presses against her stomach, more than ready to plunge inside her but I need to take my time.

  I need to make sure she’s ready.

  Another difference with Alexandria versus other women I’ve been with—we’re into foreplay. Like, long extended foreplay that drives the both of us wild. Not that I was anti-foreplay with anyone else. More like I was always speedy, eager to get on with the fucking.

  With Alexandria, I want to savor it. Take my time. Explore every inch of her pretty body and become acquainted with it intimately.

  Intimate. There’s a word I never associated with any other woman before. Intimacy makes me uncomfortable. Just hearing the word would make me run as fast and as far as I could.

  Weird, it doesn’t bother me when I think of Alexandria.

  Overwhelmed with my need for her, I devour her mouth, making her moan low in her throat. I slide down her body so I can taste her everywhere. Her neck, her collarbone, her breasts. Those puffy, pink nipples that stand at attention just for me. The gentle slope of her stomach, the dip of her navel, her hips, her thighs, her knees, her feet, they all receive my attention, until she’s a squirming, panting mess.

  I save the best for last, spreading her thighs wide so I can lick and suck at her pussy. She’s unbelievably wet, her folds glistening, her clit swollen. I suck it between my lips and she writhes, her hands in my hair, her words incomprehensible.

  I’m driving my girl out of her mind.

  Shifting away from her pussy, I rear up, grab a condom and tear into the wrapper, leaning back on my haunches so I can slip the ring of rubber onto the tip. She watches with uncontained fascination, licking her lips, her gaze locked on my cock like she can’t freaking wait for it to be inside her. Hottest shit ever, right there. I’d stroke one off in front of her too but not today.

  Today it’s my turn to finally get inside her sweet pussy.

  Once the condom is on, I bend over her, one hand braced on the mattress beside her head, the other wrapped around the base of my cock as I trace it along her folds. She arches into me, her hand going to my wrist like she needs to hold onto something tight, and her eyes squeeze shut.

  “You want it?” I’m taunting her. Teasing her. Teasing myself. I watch as I drag my cock through all that shiny pink flesh, brushing the tip against her clit, shifting down so it’s poised right at her entry. One thrust and I’m in. One push and I’ll be perfectly embedded in that sexy body of hers.

  But I’m waiting for her to give me the go ahead first.

  She nods, pressing her lips together.

  “Say it, angel. Say you want it.” I dip my head to kiss her, licking her lips, the inside of her mouth. Her taste is sweet, as addicting as candy.

  “I want it,” she whispers against my mouth, her voice hitching, her breaths coming fast. “Please, Tristan.”

  It’s the please that does it for me. Almost like she’s begging for my cock. I feel her pain. I don’t beg for shit but I have a feeling I’d get down on my knees and plead with her to let me have one more taste of her pussy, one more chance to bury my cock deep in her body.
>
  With one slow thrust I’m inside her. I hold still, hold my breath, hold my thoughts as I push further, until I’m balls deep. She wraps those sexy long legs around my hips, anchoring her body to mine and I release a rough breath, hoping like hell I don’t come too soon. I withdraw and push in again, even slower this time, savoring the drag and pull of her inner walls clenching tight around my cock.

  Closing my eyes, I inhale deep, tell myself to get my shit together. She literally throbs around me, squeezing my dick tighter and tighter, making me fucking crazed with need. I promised myself I wouldn’t rush this. But that was before I knew what it would feel like, to be inside Alexandria.

  And it feels fucking amazing.

  She circles her arms around my neck and lifts up, her mouth at my throat, whispering words I can’t hear for the low roaring in my ears. I’m consumed with pure need, every primal instinct kicking in, turning on. All I want to do is fuck.

  Fuck hard.

  She says my name when I withdraw again and blindly I grab her face, seeking her mouth. The kiss is wild. Sloppy. Lips and tongue and teeth, whispered words and breaths and whimpers. I increase my pace, my hips shifting, hers lifting.

  “More,” she whispers, and I give it to her.

  “Harder,” she demands on a cry and I do as she says, plowing inside of her body like a man possessed.

  I give it to her just as she wants because that’s what I want too. Whatever she needs, I’ll give her. Whatever she demands, I’ll offer up. I’m mindless with my need to please, my spine tingling, my balls drawing up tight. I’m going to come soon and I lift up, making some room between us so I can touch her clit as I shallowly thrust inside her.

  “You ready, Alex? You gonna come?”

  She nods, her hair a disaster, her body gleaming with a faint sheen of sweat. I dip my head and lick one breast, then the other, the salty tang of her sweat dissolving on tongue. Fuck, she tastes good, feels even better.

  My pace increases, becomes almost violent. I’m rocking into her, grunting with every downward thrust, pushing deeper and deeper until I feel like I’m going to permanently embed my dick inside her body. And still she takes it, encouraging me with whispered words, her ankles digging into my ass.

  Soft, slow lovemaking has never, ever been my style. But rutting like a fucking beast hasn’t ever been my thing either—until Alexandria. I’m overwhelmed with my need to make her mine. Hell, I’m tempted to pull my cock out of her at the last minute so I can come all over her tits, just to have the satisfaction of seeing my semen splatter on her skin…

  I pause in my thrusting, catching my breath, reevaluating my thoughts. Where the fuck did all that come from? I’ve never wanted to come on a chick’s tits just to say I did. It’s so possessive, so fucking primal.

  “Tristan?” She scratches her nails down my back, drawing my attention and I begin to move once again. One thrust. Two. Harder. Deeper. She whimpers with every push inside her body, moans with every withdrawal and I pound inside her, again. Again. Until she’s sobbing my name and she’s coming, so hard I can feel every clench around my dick, her pussy throbbing and pulsating, doing its best to milk my climax from me.

  It works. With a hoarse shout I fall over the edge, my vision blurring as the orgasm sweeps over me, rendering me speechless. My body shakes and I collapse on top of her in a panting heap, my heart racing so hard I swear it’s going to explode.

  She runs her hands over my head to calm me and I lay there, breathing deep, trying to slow my rapidly beating heart. I’ve got to be heavy on top of her like this and I go to roll over but she squeezes her arms around me, keeping me in place. “Not yet,” she whispers.

  So I do as she wishes and let her hold me, my face nuzzled in her hair, hers pressed against my chest. Long minutes pass until I finally withdraw and climb off the bed, pulling the condom off and knotting it before I toss it in the nearby trash. Breathing deep, I run a hand through my hair, my entire body tingling with awareness.

  I’d do that again. Hope she’s up for it.

  “You called me Alex.”

  I glance up to find her watching me, her head propped against a pile of pillows, the sheet bunched around her hips. A satisfied smile curls her swollen lips and I stare at her in fascination.

  “What?” I ask when I realize she spoke to me.

  “Earlier. You called me Alex.” Her smile grows and she closes her eyes, doesn’t say another word. The rise and fall of her chest is a fascinating thing to witness and I realize I’m entranced by her breathing for fuck’s sake.

  “I did?”

  “You did. I liked it. Though I like it when you call me by my full name. Or Ali. Or angel. I like angel a lot.” She reaches out and sweeps the sheet back on the other side of her bed, patting the mattress. “Come join me. We can use up more of Conrad’s condoms.”

  I go to her without protest, slipping into her bed and pulling her to me.

  I’m seriously giddy with happiness. It’s crazy, I know, but the last few days could not have been better if I tried. I turned in a big project, I got a B on my stats test and I’ve been having sex with Tristan every night this week.

  Life is finally treating me pretty damn well.

  “I hate you,” Kelli says as I push open the door and enter my bedroom. I knew she’d be waiting in here. She’d texted fifteen minutes ago to warn me. She’s hiding out since there are so many guys in my living room.

  The moment I walked into the house and they all yelled at me in greeting, I was sort of taken aback. I’m used to a few dudes always hanging around the game consoles but this is getting ridiculous.

  “Why do you hate me?” I ask her as I dump my purse on top of my dresser and plop into the nearby chair.

  I only just got home after working at the consignment shop all afternoon. We were extra busy today. Lots of girls coming in and trying on my formal dresses, most of them the ones I have for sale. Sandie warned me last week there were winter formals coming up, both for the high schoolers and a few fraternities and sororities too.

  Not only did I make my usual hourly wage, I also sold a few of my dresses. It proved to be a great day, money-wise.

  “Because you’re having sex on a regular basis.” Kelli’s voice is petulant and she flops backward on my bed. “And you’re rubbing it in.”

  “How am I rubbing it in?” I glance at my phone, hoping for a text from Tristan. He should be here any minute. He texted about an hour ago saying he was heading over here soon after I got off work. Conrad invited him to play the newest version of Call of Duty, which just came out a few days ago. Considering this is somewhat of a national event in my house, there’s been a nonstop revolving door of guys over to play for the last two days straight.

  Don’t know how it happened, but Tristan got sucked into the mix. And he said he was bringing Gabe with him as well. Shep’s working tonight as is Lucy, so it’s just the two of them.

  Weird, how my two worlds have converged. I kind of like it.

  “That glow in your cheeks and the way your eyes sparkle. I’m so fucking jealous it’s pathetic.” Kelli sighs, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m done waiting around for Steven.”

  “Why?” Poor guy can’t catch a break. “I thought you liked him. I thought he liked you.”

  “I thought so too, but he refuses to make a move,” Kelli says bitterly.

  “Did you make a move?” I want to change clothes but not in front of Kelli because I also want to change into sexy underwear. Tristan’s new favorite game is discovering what I’m wearing beneath my clothes.

  It’s my new favorite game too. I get shivery just thinking about it.

  “Yes.” I pause at her one word answer, waiting for more. “And I failed.”

  “Oh, Kelli.” She sits up at my sympathetic tone, sending me a scowl. “What happened?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it. Not like you’re full of good advice anyway, considering you and Tristan just hump like rabbits and stare at each other all goo
gly-eyed every time you’re in the same room together.”

  We do? Yeah, I like staring at him because come on, what’s not to like? But googly-eyed? I don’t see that on Tristan.

  “We don’t do that,” I start to protest but she makes an irritated noise and climbs off the bed.

  “You so do. And you’re so gone over him you don’t even realize it. It’s disgusting. I’m gonna go hang out with the guys,” she mutters as she heads toward the door. “Is Tristan coming over?”

  “He should be here any minute,” I say, feeling sad. Kelli’s mad at me yet I’m the one who feels bad. But I didn’t do anything wrong. I can’t help it if I have a—guy.

  I can’t call him my friend. I feel silly labeling him as my lover. That sounds way too glamorous and sophisticated for what we’re doing. And I definitely can’t call him my boyfriend.

  Nope. No way.

  “Great. Ought to be a fun evening watching you two slobber all over each other.” She opens the door. “Later,” she says as she leaves.

  A sigh escapes me the moment the door shuts. I don’t like that Kelli’s upset with me but she’ll get over it. Maybe she’s just in a bad mood. I know she’s frustrated over Steven but how can I help her if she won’t tell me what’s going on?

  Getting out of my chair, I go over to my closet and slide open the door, picking out something to wear. A button up shirt will do the trick, I think as I pull it off the hanger. I have an image of Tristan slowly undoing each button, his fingers brushing against my skin, his gaze locked on my chest as he sees what bra I’m wearing.

  I have enough bras to keep this game going for weeks. He has no idea what he’s in for.

  Quickly changing, I head out to the living room just in time to see Tristan and Gabe walking through the door, the both of them holding twelve packs of beer. The moment Tristan’s gaze finds me, he smiles and heads directly for me.