Hail Mary

by Nicola Rendell

  The door clatters shut. The single Edison bulb sways back and forth. Her little hands paw at my shirt, and she fumbles with my belt. I pull back to get a look at her, so I know what she’s like when she’s really getting needy.

  She’s greedy in the eyes, and flushed in the cheeks. I press into her a little harder, and tell her, “Get me started in here and there’s no fucking stopping me…”

  She undoes the buckle and doesn’t say a motherfucking word. Her eyes do, though. Those big green beauties answer, That’s the idea.

  I am painfully hard, so when she unzips my zipper, my cock comes free. I groan and pound the steel wall behind her head with my fist. Her eyes flit over to my hand and then back to me. There’s just a little bit of fear in there, and I like the look of that a lot. Without looking down at me to see if I’m cut or big or dripping pre-cum already—all three definitely true—she fists me in her strong, small hand. “I want you to take me here first.”

  “We’re not going to have elevator-ride sex the first time, Mary.”

  She laughs. Her eyes get narrow, and then she whacks the button board with her fist. The elevator grinds to a stop.

  “Fuck you, pussycat.”

  “Atta boy,” she says, eyebrow up and nothing but trouble.

  This woman. I’m telling you. “The harder you push me, the harder I want to fuck you. Just get your head around that.”

  She gets my belt off me, glances up once, and whispers again, “Atta boy.”

  The need to drive into her is so strong I can hardly see straight. I flatten my forearm on the old steel panel and knead my other palm into her ass. It fits so perfectly in my hand, it’s like she was made for me.

  She hooks one chilly finger over the edge of my boxers. “But before I let you inside me…”

  The way she says it winds me up. Let me. Like it’s not already mine to take. I grab her ass hard. “…I think I should probably know your last name.”

  It’s like a bucket of ice water on my head. It had to happen sometime, but I really hadn’t planned on it happening like this, now. But whatever. I’ll just kiss the shit out of her if she starts talking about football. I lock in on those eyes and say, “Falconi.”

  Still nothing. No recognition at all. And I’m fucking glad, because the last goddamned thing I want to talk about at this moment, with these sexy fucking thighs wrapped around me, is football. We’ve got way more important business to attend to. I position her in the corner of the elevator and take my cock in my hand.

  “Wait…” She tilts her head. “Jimmy Falconi…why do I…”

  Oh hell. I go in for the hard, teeth-clashing kiss. I kiss her so hard that I force her head back against the metal panels, making the whole elevator rattle like one huge tin can.

  She yanks her face away, studying me. “Why do I know that name?”

  I brace for impact. The thing is, for some reason, I love that she has no idea who I am. Dinner was awesome, just two people out for ribs. Talking books, flirting. And I don’t know who I am if I’m not football, but with her on the other end of it, I’d sure as hell like to find out.

  But she really is completely in the weeds. She squints, looking like she’s figured me out finally. “So you model. But do you also own a car dealership, maybe?”

  I stifle a laugh. Car dealership? I’ll take it. “Maybe.” I kiss her even harder and then give the elevator button a whack to get it moving again.

  I carry her to the apartment, forcing her up against the door hard so I feel the ripple right down her legs. Blindly, I put the key in the lock. It swings open behind her.

  I kick it closed. “Now you’re all mine.”

  “Or you’re all mine,” she says, giggling, swinging her hair over the back of my forearm and biting her lip as she looks up at me, smiling.

  Hell. Yes. I press her up against the wall for one more kiss. One more, before I let her feet touch the floor. Because I need her naked, right fucking now.

  As soon as she’s standing, I yank her sweater over her head and pull her jeans down off her ass. But not her underwear. Those I leave exactly where they are, because they’re pink, like I’d hoped, and so fucking sexy. They’ve got this black ribbon woven into them. I love that she wears panties like this for no reason. Sexy for herself. I dig that so fucking much. I take a second to trace the scalloped lace edge across her abdomen. Then I kneel in front of her and unzip her boots, rip off her socks, and unpeel those sexy jeans from that perfect body. She pulls my sweatshirt and my thermal over my head, and then I stand up again in front of her. Now it’s her turn to kneel, in a little ball in her own clothes. She undoes the laces of my boots and pulls them off me, all the time looking up my body with such fucking adoration, need, and desire.

  Shit, now I’m the one who’s speechless.

  “How did you get so fucking sexy?” I ask her as she straightens up again. I move her hair back over her shoulder so it falls down her back. Her breasts are full, and a creamy white. I wrap her in my arms, reach around behind her, and unfasten her bra so that her breasts come free right against my chest. Kneeling again, I take her left nipple in my mouth and watch her neck arch.

  And she says, to the ceiling, “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  Her skin is silk under my tongue. I smell her already, and it’s like that scent—that deep, wet scent—triggers something in my head. That smell, it makes a man feel alive. It makes a man feel invincible. Wiser men than me have said, I don’t believe in God, but I do believe in pussy. But this pussy? This body? This woman? Primal. Instinctive. Necessary.

  Taking her by the ass, I hoist her up and set her on a table by the door. A lamp goes flying and her eyes jump up to mine, surprised. “Oops.”

  “Fuck it,” I say, right up against her lips. “We could break every single thing in this apartment and I wouldn’t give a shit. Because right now, nothing matters more than this…”

  With two fingers, I start to press inside her as she fists me in her palm. She’s tight and wet and all the best things on earth.

  Her jaw relaxes a little as she purrs for more and more, and I see she’s got her tongue pressed upwards, against the roof of her mouth. As I hook deeper into her, finding her G-spot, her tongue falls again. “Oh God, Jimmy. Yes…just…yes…”

  I like the way she talks. But right now, I need her speechless. So I go a little further inside. As I finger her, her walls part a little, and I get a sense of her most secret curve. It’s beautiful. It’s soft. It’s hot. And I know one thing for sure: I need my cock inside it.

  “I don’t want to finger you, Mary. I want to fuck you.”

  She gasps a little. I let the words sit there between us.

  For one second, I keep her in suspense. Then I pull her off the table, flip her around, and pin her up against the wall like I’m going to search her. Which I am. Hell yes, I am.

  As her head falls gently down between her arms, her hair spilling down against the wall, I feel her up and down. Her ass, her pussy, her stomach, her nipples. As I work on her, I watch her hands slip down the wall until her palms are flat and her elbows are bent. She looks at me over her shoulder. Her eyes are wide, excited, full of anticipation. She’s not laughing, not giggling. She’s as serious about this as I am.

  I place myself right at her opening, but don’t push into her yet. Right up against her ear, I ask, “Are we gonna fuck around with condoms or are you going to let me inside you like I need to be?”

  The little gasp of surprise is pretty much fucking priceless.

  She cranes her neck around to face me and blinks twice. She looks down at my cock in my hand, watching me work the length. “Do you have one?”

  I press my cock down between her ass cheeks, feeling her wetness on my shaft. I lick her ear. I nip her neck. “Of course I do.”

  Her wheels are spinning. I can almost hear them. “We should…”

  “Fuck should…” I flip her back around to face me so that her body hits the wall with a slap. “What do you
want to do?” I cage her in with my arm and pin her against the wall with my body.

  Her breathing comes out slow and deep, making her ribcage collapse a little. She grips my cock at the base while also cupping my balls in exactly the way I like, letting the low one hang a little bit and keeping the high one tight. “Fuck, Mary,” I grind out through gritted teeth, my stubble brushing along her cheek.

  “If you can’t tell what I want,” she says finally, her voice strained, “I’m doing this all wrong.”

  Her grip tightens, and I part her legs with my knee a little more. “I can tell. But say the word.”

  “Do it. Please.” She lets go of my cock and slowly inches her fingers around my hips until she’s gripping my ass with both hands. She’s so much smaller than I am that my cock presses against her stomach, sliding softly past her bellybutton.

  “You’re sure?” I ask her, fucking possessed by the way my dick looks against her abs.

  She swallows. “Yeah.”

  I pull my eyes off what’s going on between us and zero in on her stare. “Hang on tight,” I say, planting my hands on her ass. As I hoist her up again, one perfect, soft ass cheek in each hand, her legs hook around me.

  “Please,” she whispers. “Just like this.”

  And so I follow her lead as much as I can, slowing when she tightens, speeding up when she relaxes. Penetration is smooth, easy, slick, and perfect, but halfway in, she thumps her head against the wall. She lets out this little moan that almost sounds like pain.

  I stop cold. “You okay?”

  “You’re huge, Jimmy.” She looks down at the two of us together, adjusting her hips just a little, side to side, so my fingers dig deeper into the backs of her thighs. “You’re so huge.”

  Jesus. But I don’t want to hurt her. Not by accident. “I can stay like this if that’s what you need.”

  She shakes her head. Her legs tighten around my hips and then relax. “Don’t stop. Give it all to me. I can take it.”

  Christ. All. Mighty.

  Inch by inch, I give it to her. It’s like she’s made for me, pulling me inside, welcoming me into her all the way.

  I’ve been with enough women to know that things just got pretty fucking simple. I’ve never been with a woman who makes me feel like this. I shift her hair to the side as my cock compresses against her cervix. She gasps again, but softer now. Darker.

  “That okay?” I ask into the curve of her neck.

  She doesn’t answer, though. She just gives me that tongue on the roof of her mouth again, and a long, slow moan with her neck arching back.

  I’ll take that as a yes.

  10

  Mary

  He’s just so deliciously…

  I study him as he thrusts deeper and deeper into places that I have never had a man find, making me feel things I've never felt before. His eyes are closed, his long lashes resting on his lightly freckled cheeks. I give him a squeeze from inside, and he returns it with a powerful drive that makes me groan his name.

  …dominant.

  That would be the word. But also…

  Tender.

  “Bed,” I whimper, hanging on to him, almost clinging. “I think I need to be in bed.”

  “Fucking told you,” he says, pulling out of me as he lifts me up onto one shoulder in a fireman’s hold, one big arm wrapped around my waist. I get a perfect view of his yummy, sculpted ass and his meaty, solid thighs.

  The hallway is long and clean, with a simple, blue oriental rug on the polished concrete. He turns left, and I see a blur of a kitchen. Then his hands move up to my ribcage, tighten, and he tosses me onto the bed.

  Dark blue sheets. Very bachelorish. Again, that smell. Better-than-Bounce. There’s a big row of windows on one wall of the bedroom, and he whacks something on the side table so that a panel of dark shades winds down from the ceiling.

  This guy. This guy.

  He drags me to the edge of the bed, taking one ankle in each hand. He positions my heels at his shoulder, bends my knees, and then guides himself back inside me. As he opens me up, I can’t help but writhe. He watches me the whole time. He’s brutal and gentle, somehow both at once. “That’s it, just like that,” he coaxes until his thighs press into the back of mine.

  He places a soft kiss to my calf. “I want to give you a little more than you want. But never more than you can take. Get it?” He thrusts in a little more.

  I nod, my head pinned by my hair at my back, so I feel the nod as a little twinge of pain.

  He pauses, all the way inside me. “Tonight, we fuck.” He drives in hard and deep, ramming into my cervix and making me groan into his chest. “We fuck like animals. We fuck to get to know each other. We fuck to find the same language. But tomorrow…” He slips out slowly, so slowly, but so fully that I whimper and paw at him to come back inside. Then he does, loosing himself back into me so hard that I come right up off the bed. Behind me, the headboard smacks against the wall, and he drives a knee into the side of the mattress, scooting the whole king-size bed and me on top of it backward. The soft thudding of the bedframe on the wall goes silent.

  “What about tomorrow…” I pant, gripping his forearms, feeling a tight stretch down the backs of my thighs as he presses my legs closer to my chest with his shoulder.

  “Tomorrow…” he trails off as my legs fall open for him. His eyes move down my body and then narrow. His lips part slightly as he traces a long line down from my collarbone to my bellybutton.

  Nobody has ever looked at me with so much pure, plain desire. Even though he is already inside me, I want more, so much more. More than I even knew I could imagine. “C’mon, Gillette. Don’t get lost now,” I say softly.

  His eyes lock on to mine as he climbs on top of me and drives into me again. This time harder. So hard that the force makes me bite his shoulder. And then, in an intense, sexy, all-business voice, he says into my ear, “You know what? Fuck tomorrow. Give me everything you’ve got tonight.”

  Stamina. The man has unbelievable stamina.

  As he fucks me, I squeeze him back from inside as best I can, showing him that even though he’s got me on my back, writhing and begging, I’m not weak. I’m not passive. I want to draw that power out of him and make him feel what he’s doing to me, too.

  He goes and goes, but then, surprisingly, begins to slow, and pauses for a second, gasping and saying, “Fuck.” He turns his head away from me slightly, his cheek to the pillows. I try to shift his head so I can get a sense of his face, his expression, how he’s feeling.

  But he doesn’t let me see his eyes. All I can see for sure is the ripple of his jaw muscles as he clenches them. He groans and stays buried inside me. “Are you okay?” I whisper, running my fingers through his short hair.

  “Just staving off an orgasm is all,” he says gruffly. “Do you do yoga? Because holy mother of God.”

  I smile up at the ceiling, holding his head tightly in my arms. “Did you almost come? Did I almost break the stallion?”

  He snickers and mutters, “Fuck you,” through another kiss to my chest.

  “It’s okay. It’s okay to be open about these things. It’s good to communicate, right?”

  He snickers again. “Fuck you twice.”

  But I don’t give him a hard time about it. I like him soft, vulnerable, just the way he is now. And, actually, it’s flattering to make a man like this, a beast like him, suddenly weak and still. So I savor the moment, the feel of his stubble on my breast, his lips to my skin, his big body relaxing down on top of mine. I get used to the way he breathes against me, and I let my own breath fall into the same rhythm.

  After a moment, he finds his way again, coming into a push-up over me. He pins my thighs together with his so that he’s the one on the outside. It’s a whole different sensation this way, warmer and softer somehow. The friction of him entering me and then pulling out echoes in my clit. “Okay?” I whisper, trailing one finger trail up the back of his thigh.

  “Yeah. Just sto
p squeezing me, pussycat. I can’t fucking take it.”

  So I try to relax. I really do. But honestly, it just feels so good…

  “You are killing me.” He smiles, but then gives me a pump that makes me scream into the pillows. “You’re gonna have to pay for that.”

  As he speeds up, he unleashes into me with a new urgency, an aggression I've never seen before. He brings his hand to my throat, but gently, though. Not enough to scare me. More than you want, but never more than you can take.

  “You trying to punish me?” I whisper.

  “Fuck, yes. You can’t be this hot and not pay for it.”

  Using my arms around his neck like a lever, I bring my lips closer to his. “Make me pay, Jimmy Falconi. Make me pay,” I say, just as I give him a good solid squeeze.

  “Jesus Christ,” he groans.

  It’s then that he pulls out of me. I find it so delightful that I let loose a squeal. “Again!”

  “Stop it,” he says, with that big smile. “But fuck, that was close.” He shakes his head, grinding his teeth. I watch the rising and falling of his chest, the tightness of his biceps, the veins that run down from his abs to his groin. Remember this, Mary. This is the sexiest man you’ll ever be with, and you know it.

  He comes up onto his knees, straddling me, his ass just touching my thighs, his balls heavy and warm against my skin. Then he takes his cock in his hand. Gently, slowly, he brings the tip. To my clit.

  I look down and see a drop of cum about to slip from his opening. His eyes meet mine and then go back down as he slides his cock along me so that his cum lands exactly… on…the spot. Right on my clit.