Want You Back

by Lulu Pratt

  “It’d be my pleasure.”

  I still hadn’t turned around, knowing that if I gazed in his eyes, I’d get lost in their depths, and then I’d have to kiss him, and then I might miss out on the sweet promise of his cock. His arm moved to forcefully pivot me to face him, but I stopped him. Needless to say, he understood.

  “Then I’ll just have to picture your expression,” he murmured behind me.

  His breath was still hot in my ear as his hands descended on my breasts, squeezing and fondling them until my nipples stood erect beneath the thin fabric. Just as I was thinking my nipples might completely pierce the fabric, Jacob’s hands moved away, and then I felt the zipper of my dress being undone and the sheath sliding completely off, curling in a bundle on the ground. I was in my underwear, and the hot air felt good on my bared skin.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” he said, his voice straining with desire.

  His fingers yanked my breasts out of their black lacy sheaths, allowing them to bounce free. Again, that rush of hot air surged across my chest, and I thought how good it felt to expose myself in nature, how primal it was.

  Jacob pinched my already hard nipples, causing me to moan and arch my back, my needy ass pressing into his groin. I began to make small circles with my hips, a breathy figure-eight, urging him to take me.

  “You do much more of that,” he moaned behind me, no longer caring about volume, “and there won’t be any foreplay.”

  “Who needs foreplay?” I demanded. “If I get any wetter, my underwear will just fall off.”

  He laughed, and the sound rumbled through his chest, vibrating through my spine. “Not that that would be a bad thing.”

  Jacob was getting distracted, and I couldn’t allow that. I had desires that needed to be sated before he could leisurely peruse the lines of my body or whisper sweet nothings. I thrust my hips further back, letting my ass slide over the outline of his thick, hardened dick. He groaned appreciatively.

  “Fine, have it your way.”

  The next thing I heard was his belt being undone, his zipper skipping down notches.

  “But I need to have one thing my way,” he added. “This.”

  The belt I’d just heard yanked out of loops was suddenly being wrapped around my wrists, forcing the two pale, veiny surfaces together.

  “Is that okay?” he asked.

  Ha. Was that okay? Oh, it was more than okay. It was perfect. By way of reply, I knelt to the ground, back still to him. I felt the equilibrium between us, and the trust. I couldn’t see him, and my hands were literally tied, and yet, I felt complete peace. Well, peace and lust.

  He inhaled deeply and knelt down behind me. I knew his pants had somehow been removed, because I could feel the heat emanating from his skin, even though we weren’t touching.

  “I’m going to fuck you now. Is that okay?” he asked again, his voice deep and saturated with desire. It was a reward in and of itself, that he was struggling so much to keep his tone steady. I liked to weaken a man.

  “Please,” I begged. “I’ve waited long enough.”

  “It’s been, like, a day,” he laughed. “Maybe two.”

  “Basically millennia,” I insisted.

  He growled and coiled a hand in my hair, tugging my head back towards him. “Then remind me that I need to satisfy you at least once a day in the future. Will that be enough?”

  “I’d prefer once an hour, but I suppose I could settle for a day.”

  His lips were on my spine, tracing it from the nape of my neck all the way down to the dip above my ass. I bent over, placing my tied hands in front of me so that I could press my face close to the ground and stick my butt up further in the air. I was like a prone Sphinx, cooking in the desert breeze.

  He understood my desires without needing words — he slapped my ass cheek once, twice.

  “Harder,” I insisted.

  Jacob readily obliged, and I felt a sting and sweet release. He slapped the other cheek, just for good measure, then spread them both wide apart, exposing my sensitive areas to the elements.

  And, apparently, to his tongue.

  He lapped once at my asshole, then asked, “Do you like that?”

  I could just barely manage a groan of pleasure. Jacob’s tongue was back on my clit, and he was sucking, nibbling on me, causing waves of desire to roar up my spine. I’d never been touched like that before, wasn’t sure it would be for me, but in his safe hands — and mouth — I relaxed, knowing that Jacob would put my pleasure above all else.

  His tongue swirled around my center, like a ship being pulled under, going faster and faster, until he stuck it deep inside me. I screamed, wanting to thank him but losing the words.

  “Okay,” he laughed, and I could picture the devious expression that would be on his face. “Now you’re ready.”

  Oh God. I’d been ready since the moment we’d kissed in the conference room, but now? Now I was dying for his dick.

  My long, hard wait was rewarded with another long, hard thing — I felt the tip of Jacob’s thick cock at the lips of my pussy, tenderly grazing the surface, toying with me.

  “What are you waiting for?” I growled as his dick teased my nerve endings, setting them alight.

  “I don’t know,” he replied with forced casualness. “I suppose just waiting for you to beg.”

  “All right,” I nearly shouted. “I’m fucking begging. Jacob. I need you. Now. Now. Now.”

  “Let me slip on a condom first,” he whispered.

  I could not see him, but I imagined him unrolling the condom along his hard cock. The thought made me wetter and I asked, “Are you ready for me, please?”

  “If you insist,” came his swift reply, and before I could let out another quivering plea, his tip was plunging through my folds, and then his whole cock was inside me, the subtle curve causing him to reach right to my G-spot. It was like we’d been made for each other from within and from without. I wasn’t superstitious, but something about that unity made me think the universe had plans for us.

  I couldn’t think more about fate, though, because Jacob was thrusting his member in me, the ridged edges tickling my vaginal walls. I felt sensations everywhere — on my back, which he was hunched over, on my hands, which were still sexily bound together, in my pussy, where Jacob was working magic..

  Jacob’s joking, light manner of only a few moments ago had completely vanished — he’d been overtaken with some kind of primal mating instinct. Gone was the conversation — neither of us, I suspected, could keep a thought in our heads long enough to say it aloud. With every thrust of his dick, anxiety leached out of my brain, dissipating in the hedge maze.

  A moan escaped from my mouth, a loud one, as his pace picked up, his cock jackhammering me.

  “Fuck,” I finally managed to shriek through gritted teeth. Jacob, spurred by this utterance, redoubled his efforts, moving his cock with inhuman strength and speed.

  Without warning, without even the slightest sensation, I felt familiar bursts of energy igniting in my body — my orgasm was arriving. I arched my back to further press his cock into my sweet spot. That did the trick.

  Pleasure and sweat drenched me as I practically vibrated on his dick, my pussy clenching and unclenching as my muscles helplessly suctioned him further into me.

  After several long seconds of pure bliss, I collapsed, my face firmly in the well-kept grass.

  “Are we done?” Jacob asked, removing his dick, probably out of concern that if he so much as grazed my body I’d burst into flames.

  “No. You need to come.”

  “I do?”

  “I want you to come,” I told him.

  That was all I needed to say — he pressed himself inside me once more, his hands gripping my waist, his knees jolting up against the back of mine. Even though I’d come, I felt residual pleasure as Jacob raced towards completion.

  I could feel the moment he reached the brink, could feel him shutter, heard his moan. Shortly thereafter, I felt we
t drops on my ass after he had whipped off the condom. The droplets swooped down my spine just as that bead of sweat had done.

  Jacob panted somewhere above my back, taking quick, fast breaths, before at last collecting himself enough to reach around to my front, grasp my hands, and untie the belt. That finished, I rolled onto my back, staring up at him and the now almost-dark sky, minutes away from the final gushes of sunset. His eyes were hazy, as though he was lost in a dreamland.

  “Are you still with me?” I murmured, stroking his cheek.

  “Always,” he replied.

  Epilogue

  Sierra

  Eight months later

  LEMME TELL ya, building a small town in eight short months ain’t easy.

  From the minute we signed the contract with Charles — the very same day Jacob had declared that he loved me — Pillers hit the ground running. We didn’t have a lot of time to get this puppy on its feet, and we had promises to keep, which meant that the entire company was devoting itself to getting the village built. People were working in different sectors, picking up slack where it was needed, and generally pitching in however possible. It was an all hands-on-deck situation, and like the company we were, each hand showed up ready and willing to lift more than the next.

  Maybe this doesn’t sound like the perfect environment for young love. Not like the storybooks, right?

  But trust me, it’s way better than any enchanted forest or forbidding tower.

  Because working with Jacob meant that we got to constantly see one another in our elements, see each other succeed, accomplish tasks, solve problems, feel confidence. It’s like dating a basketball player and going to watch them play a game where they make endless shots. Their victories feel like your victories, their prowess a thing you get to rejoice in off the court.

  And, yeah, it didn’t hurt that Jacob was usually sweaty and shirtless on the job. Don’t let me fool you — I’m rarely that high-minded. When you get down to it, I’m probably thinking about boning as much as the average teenage boy.

  Anyways, together — and with the help of the amazing team and local contractors — we’d erected what amounted to over seventy different individual structures — townhouses, condominiums, three community centers, a gym and grocery store. It reminded me of when I used to play Sims as a kid, except in this version, all the Sims were old, and the houses didn’t just magically appear out of thin air.

  We’d worked day and night, catching sleep and sex where we could, and yet, Jacob and I had thrived in the fast pace. Maybe living and working together made our relationship move faster — we’d essentially moved in together less than a week after we’d agreed to start to try dating again. Ginger, who I had adopted after the end of our first relationship, came with me to Jacksonville and followed Jacob around the house whenever he was home. I’d forgotten that Jacob had grown up with dogs and the favorite of his dogs was a Frenchie called Mary Ann.

  Now we were thoroughly, unapologetically in love, and the words ‘husband and wife’ no longer felt so foreign or unexpected, but a natural conclusion to our story. Maybe it wouldn’t be used for another month or another year, but it was coming, and every time the thought crossed my mind I shared with myself a small, secret smile.

  Meanwhile, the present was an excitement all its own. That is to say, today was the day we’d finished the village.

  Jacob had stayed behind to help some of the painters and landscapers. His job had been finished a week or two ago, when he’d built the final frame of a building, this one for an office for the staff and security, but being the guy he was, he chipped in on any other project he came across. According to him, it was because I was now on the job site every day, so he didn’t mind coming in to pick up slack.

  “So long as I get this view,” he’d said, gesturing to me.

  What a romantic. I found myself constantly swooning, which was a thing I didn’t know I could even do.

  As I strode through the village, knowing I’d find Jacob somewhere, working on some last finishing touches, I ran my hands over the bricks of houses, the white paint on picket fences, the precisely trimmed foliage of the hedges. We’d built this, him and me. We’d built this big, beautiful thing together — with help, of course — the same way we could build a future together.

  “Jacob,” I called out, my voice echoing through the narrow streets that I can only describe as being Munchkinland-like. All the buildings within town had been relatively miniaturized, not vastly, but just enough that residents got the feel of living in a normal city, without actually having to cross huge distances. A babbling brook ran close to the town center, not so close that anyone might fall in, and the sound of lapping water cocooned me.

  “Jacob,” I repeated as I rounded the corner, moving towards the central grassy knoll around which the main road curved. On the knoll there were a handful of benches and a few clusters of wildflowers — we’d convinced Charles, against all his instincts, not to put anything crass and showy in the spot, like a statue or a huge water feature. We were going for quaint English village, not a Vegas hotel. Besides, wildflowers make a place feel like home, like you can be wild and grow your own way, too.

  I climbed up the red brick steps inset in the knoll, a very gentle incline that reached its maximum height at about five feet off the ground, and took a seat on a wooden bench. I’ll wait for him, I thought. He’s bound to be around here some—

  “You hollering for me?”

  I twisted to look over my shoulder, and there he was.

  Jacob was striding shirtless through the center of town, a sweaty white tank top tucked into the top of his jeans, one hand mysteriously behind his back. With his free hand, he raked fingers through his hair to get it off his sun-kissed face and winked.

  “See anything you like?” he joked as he reached the bottom of the knoll and quickly climbed its steps.

  “Mmm, maybe,” I replied, coy as ever.

  “How about now?” he asked as he sat down beside me on the bench and took his hand from behind his back to reveal a glistening bottle of expensive Champagne.

  My eyes bulged — he’d clearly asked for the finest bottle. “What’s this all about?”

  He shrugged. “Figured we needed some kind of celebratory thing all our own before the big shindig tomorrow.”

  Jacob was referring to the ribbon-cutting ceremony that was scheduled to take place the following morning, where there would be press, catering, the works. It would be plenty of hoopla, but not much time to rejoice in our personal efforts.

  “That’s so thoughtful,” I replied at last, momentarily startled out of words by the kindness of his gesture.

  He waved away the compliment, but I could tell from the way he beamed that it was all he’d wanted to hear me say.

  “So, should I pop this puppy?” he asked with a rascally grin.

  “Hell yeah. Let her rip.”

  We stood up, and Jacob carefully turned away from me as he unwrapped the golden foil, tucked it into his pockets, and undid the wire binding.

  “Okay, now I’m really gonna let this fly,” he warned, “so stand back.”

  I rolled my eyes at his exaggerated concern for my safety, saying, “Oh, yeah, right—”

  And suddenly, the cork was arcing through the air, followed by a rainbow of bubbles bursting forth as if in slow motion, each individual molecule catching the light and refracting a thousand times over.

  I shrieked with glee, then clamped my hand over my mouth, surprised I’d made such a silly noise.

  Jacob caught my gesture and laughed before promptly using his spare hand to lovingly pull my fingers off my mouth.

  “You don’t have to hide your light under a bushel,” he explained. “Not around me. Besides, we earned this. Go on, scream some more.”

  I raised one eyebrow, not sure this would be the most ladylike exercise, then immediately thought, Fuck ladylike. Prim ladies don’t work overtime every day a week. Prim ladies don’t build fucking villages. To hel
l with their whole lot.

  So I tossed my hands up in the air, and Jacob’s strong arms immediately encircled my waist, the Champagne bottle in his right hand pressing into my back as he lifted me up, twirling me around while somehow still balancing the bottle.

  After several dizzying spins around the knoll, he set me down, and we were both out of breath from laughing so hard.

  “Okay,” he panted. “You have the first drink.”

  He passed me the bottle, and his fingers caressed my hand.

  “Don’t mind if I do,” I remarked, holding his gaze as I lifted the bottle to my lips before closing my eyes and tilting my head back. The Champagne coursed down my throat, sending blips of pleasure to my brain, like continual mini orgasms.

  After a deep imbibing, I lowered my chin, wiped the excess from my mouth and passed the bottle to him.

  “Your turn.”

  “How does it taste?” he asked, curious.

  “Like heaven.”

  He grinned. “That’s what I was going for.”

  Jacob drank from the bottle and pronounced it the finest liquid that had ever past his lips.

  “Besides, of course, your liquid,” he clarified, looking at me with a wink.

  My mouth fell open as I glanced around the town center before returning my eyes to him. “Jacob!” I said, shushing him. “We’re in public! And there are workers all over the place, finalizing—”

  “Nope,” he corrected me. “I’m the last one. Well, we’re the last ones.”

  I absorbed this information. “So we’re… alone?”

  “Absolutely,” he said with a devious grin.

  Well that was the last straw. I threw my arms around his shoulders, the cold bottle grazing his neck and making him shiver, and pulled Jacob in for a long, deep kiss that tasted of Champagne and dreams.

  Even though we kissed every day, multiple times a day, each kiss felt like a new discovery that revealed a delightful, unexpected layer.

  As our lips framed each other’s, our tongues darting in and out, I thought about how hard I’d tried to keep bliss out of my life. I’d been willing to let my anger, justified as it may have been, block my way to potential happiness. I’d shut down instead of trying to work through it. How often had I let my frustration limit me from moving past frustration and into joy? The answer wasn’t one I wanted to consider, and more importantly, it was no longer one I had to.