“You’re killing me,” she whispered. “Is it supposed to be like this? My clit is pulsing with each beat of my heart, and I have this ache…”
She didn’t need to finish.
I knew the ache she was speaking of.
Moving until I was on my knees between her thighs, I moved my palm to the top of her thigh, then went even farther until my thumb was skimming the seam where her leg met more intimate parts of her body.
When still she didn’t tense up, I moved closer, allowing my thumb to sweep slowly over the lips of her sex.
We both froze for different reasons, then.
Me because she was wet as hell and bare to the touch, and her because I’d just touched something that no other man had touched before.
At least, I assumed no other man had touched it before.
I hoped no other man had touched it before.
She hadn’t told me—at least again anyway—but I just knew.
With her aversion to touch, something that I couldn’t remember either, but could definitely pick up on when anyone got close to her at all in the hospital yesterday, I just knew that she wouldn’t have shared this part of herself with anyone else.
“Holy shit,” she breathed. “You’re so close.”
So close to that ache.
So close to touching her exactly where she needed me to.
I moved my hand until I was cupping her entirely, then squeezed, causing her to jerk against me.
I wasn’t sure what she needed from me. A light touch. A firm touch. So I was learning this all as we moved along, and what I found was confusing.
She didn’t mind any touch, it seemed, and I was moving slowly with the assumption that she was going to freak out at any second.
But maybe she wasn’t.
Maybe I should just move, do what I wanted to do to her, and let her stop me if I did something she didn’t like. Something in which I had a feeling she’d have no problem doing since she was used to speaking her mind.
“Why’d you stop?” she asked, moving her hips up and down, causing my hand to jerk with her.
I grinned and let go of her pussy, my fingers moving again to part her lips and skim the soft, overheated skin between.
She gasped when my finger finally met her clit, her body bowing up in surprise as she jerked at the contact.
“What the fuck?” she inhaled.
I grinned wickedly at her. “What the fuck what?”
I wished I could see her face.
I wanted to watch the expressions cross it as she experienced these things for the first time.
But I also felt like the loss of one of her senses made her focus on the others—touch and sound—as I started to play her body like my instrument.
My fingers swirled around her clit, round and round I went, until she was jerking with each almost-touch.
“You’re killing me,” she whispered, her hands finding my hard thighs as she dug her fingernails into my skin. “I want you to touch it.”
Meaning, she was tired of me playing. She wanted me to do what I was warming her up to do.
I moved my fingers down instead, causing her to curse up a storm, which was incredibly cute coming from the girl that I’d never heard curse before.
“What was all that?” I asked as I slowly teased her entrance with the two fingers that’d been doing the circling.
“I hate you,” she repeated her last statement. “You’re doing this on purpose.”
I was.
But only because I wanted her very, very wet. And very ready to take me.
I wasn’t small by any means, and this being her first time meant it was already going to be uncomfortable for her.
“Yeah,” she whispered. “Totally teasing me on purpose.” She groaned when I pressed just the tips of both fingers inside of her.
She was tight.
Too tight.
Meaning that I’d have to do more to make sure that she could take me.
Bringing both fingers to my lips, I sucked them clean, nearly groaning at the taste of her on my tongue.
“Are you licking your fingers?” she whispered, sounding breathless and curious.
“Yes.” I pulled them both free, then notched one at her entrance again—after dragging it from the tip of her seam all the way down to my target.
She was wet.
But still a single finger slowly working inside of her felt almost too tight.
Yet, the moment I was buried to the webbing, she started to pulse around me, letting me know that she liked the way I felt inside of her.
“Not enough,” she whispered.
I curled my finger inside of her, feeling for that squishy bit of flesh inside of her that hid her G-spot.
“Ohhh,” she breathed, my dick responding to the need in her voice, to the point where I was so hard that I felt like I might snap directly in half. “That’s good.”
I knew it was good.
Why did I know? Because the moment that I started to work that bit of flesh, her pussy started to flood my finger.
I pulled out, then thrust it back inside of her, over and over again until she was practically squirming and cursing, needing to come.
“Please,” she whispered, making my dick pulse with need. “You’re killing me.”
I wasn’t killing her.
I was working her closer and closer to the edge until I knew that she’d be on the teetering point.
One finger moved to two on the next slide inside of her, causing her to hiss in a breath.
“You have really large fingers,” she breathed as I was pulling my cock out over the top of my sweats.
I searched for one of her hands with my free one and pulled her hand down to my cock, and she cursed as she wrapped her hand around it.
“That’s three times the size of your fingers.” She sounded intrigued, but also a little bit nervous.
I didn’t say anything as she slowly worked what she could reach of my shaft without moving away from my exploring fingers that were now doing that curling bit again.
“Ohh,” she moaned as she squeezed the tip of my cock, causing a spot of precum to gather on the tip. “You’re making me want.”
That was exactly what I was trying to do—make her so crazy for me that by the time I caused her pain, she wouldn’t give a fuck.
She swept the pad of her thumb over my tip and paused when she encountered the precum.
Her hand left me, and I heard the smack of her lips as she cleaned her thumb free of my offering.
“You taste salty,” she said. “Not sure what I think about it.”
I chuckled at her words.
Some women liked the taste, others didn’t.
It was a personal preference, and I wouldn’t mind if she went either way, as long as I had her tight pussy to sink into instead.
Her hand moved back to my cock, and this time, she moved forward until she could rub it against her pussy—at least the parts that I wasn’t currently filling with two thrusting fingers.
The wet heat of her pussy felt like a jolt straight to my heart, and I knew then and there that I wouldn’t be able to give her much more time.
“Move your fingers,” she pleaded.
I did, giving her exactly what she wanted.
“Ohh,” she whispered as she brought the tip of my cock up and brushed it along her clit.
“Keep doing that,” I rasped, my voice sounding like I’d gargled with bleach, so raspy and husky. “And I’m going to come all over your pussy instead of inside of it.”
She notched my dick at her entrance, then said, “Then come inside.”
I brought my fingers up to my mouth and licked them clean again, slowly as I tried not to think about what was in store for my cock.
Just the heat of her slick entrance hugging the crown of my cock was enough to make me see stars.
“Inside,” she hissed, her fingers now clenching into my thighs to the point of pain. There was no way in hell I wouldn’t
see those nail indentations in the morning. “I’ll seriously kill you.”
I pushed inside, only to curse myself ten ways until Sunday before abruptly pulling back again.
Reaching over the side of the bed, I all but laid on top of her to get at the condoms—one condom to be specific—that I kept in the nightstand drawer.
After my fingers closed over everything else in the drawer first—gun, magazines, ChapStick, baby oil, lube—I finally felt the little foil packet.
Latching onto it with desperate fingers, I ripped it open with my teeth, had it slicked on in half a second flat, and was returning to the writhing woman underneath of me seconds later.
“Oh, God.” She breathed when I breached her farther than before.
My hands gripped her ample hips, my fingers digging into the soft flesh there, and lifted her up at the same time that I sank slowly inside.
I didn’t give an inch, just slowly filled her until she was taking all of me.
“Oh, boy.” She breathed. “I didn’t feel my membrane tearing. I’m almost a little sad about that.”
I would’ve replied to her weird comment if I could have.
However, my head was so focused on what was happening with my other head—thank God I’d worn the condom. If I was inside of her bare, I’d already have exploded—that I couldn’t concentrate on two things at once.
“Move, please,” she whispered desperately.
I moved, pulling back only a half inch before slowly grinding back inside of her. Over and over I did this, playing her body like my instrument, and getting her closer and closer to the edge.
Just when I felt like she was about to teeter over, her body all but locked up on me.
I froze, unsure what was wrong.
“What?” I asked, my voice sounding very strained.
She cleared her throat. “I think I want to be on top.”
I reversed our positions, rolling so that she was on top, with my head resting on the pillow she’d been using all night.
“Better?” I asked her.
She wiggled on top of me, her body taking mine in just a bit deeper, and clenched and unclenched her pelvic floor muscles.
“Yesssss,” she hissed. “Oh, yes.”
That’s when she became wild.
With nothing to do but experience her—I still couldn’t see anything but the glare of the red numbers on the alarm clock—I closed my eyes, put my hands above my head, and enjoyed the ride.
She felt like a hot, slick fist that was made for hugging my cock.
Up and down she slammed until suddenly I didn’t know if I could hold off long enough for her to finish.
But before I could really start to worry, those tightening muscles started to ripple again.
Her hands slammed down onto my chest, and she shrieked in surprise as an orgasm slammed into her.
Once again, her fingernails were digging into my skin—my chest this time—but I didn’t care.
My hands went to her hips when she started to drape herself forward and slow.
Unable to stop myself, I yanked her down hard, making sure that she continued to move on me until my own orgasm smashed into me.
Like a wrecking ball, the world around me exploded.
Lights started to dance behind my eyelids, and my body clenched so hard that a cramp in my midsection hit me that would’ve made me freeze any other time.
And don’t even get me started on my head.
The throbbing was so bad that I couldn’t fuckin’ breathe without what felt like my brain slamming against my skull.
But goddamn, was every single second of the sex with Belle worth it.
Eyes closed, I finally let her go long enough for her to collapse completely onto my chest.
I reluctantly pulled out from her still spasming pussy, knowing without a doubt that that was one thing we didn’t need to chance right now—any mishaps with the condom.
I left her in a wet slide that did nothing to help my dick go down.
And when she flipped her head to rest her cheek against my pec, I didn’t make a move to dislodge her hair from my face.
I couldn’t.
I was so content—as long as I didn’t move my head—that I knew that I could sleep like this all night long.
“You’re like, super-duper quiet when you fuck me,” she whispered. “It was really weird.”
My lips twitched up into a small smile.
I snorted. “I talk when I have something to say. But when I’m concentrating, I tend to trail off and let other things do my talking for me.”
“Well, your other thing worked really well with relaying how you felt,” she panted next to me. “I’m on the pill. Next time we do this, you’re doing it bare.”
A thrill shot through me as I thought about taking her bare.
“I’m clean,” I said. “They just ran all those tests when I was in the hospital.”
She snorted. “I know that. I’m clean as well. You know, seeing as I was a virgin until about thirty seconds ago.”
I chuckled lightly as I reached for her and pulled her closer to me, not stopping until she was pressed against me chest to hip.
“I don’t think I can sleep like this,” she admitted sleepily.
Then she fell asleep doing exactly what she’d just said she couldn’t do.
CHAPTER 15
Behind every successful woman is a tribe of other successful women that have her back.
-Amelia to Belle
BELLE
I no longer had a hymen.
It felt like it, too.
My vagina was sore. My legs were sore.
My ass was sore—not that he’d touched that particular orifice—but the muscles in my glutes were outrageously so.
I had a beard burn from Bruno’s now-shaved beard on the inside of my thighs, my breasts, and my neck where he’d skimmed my skin with his tongue.
And… I was no longer a virgin.
I had to tell my mother.
Which I did moments later.
Me: I’m no longer a virgin. Also, I didn’t realize sex was so nice. Why didn’t you tell me?
I mean, logically I knew it had to be good. There was a reason that everyone liked it.
But I hadn’t realized it would be that good.
Mom: I would like to point out that I want to be your friend at this point, that I’m very happy that you are no longer sporting your V-card, but you have an assassin after you. Do you think that sleeping with the man that just might wind up dead is a good idea?
Me: Probably not. But I really like him. You’re going to have to break it to Daddy gently that I’ve found the man I’m going to marry.
Mom: I realize that you like him, but that’s a little soon, too.
Me: Maybe. Maybe not. But he gets me. I’ve never, not in my life, found someone that gets me quite like he does. And he looks good in sweatpants. I now realize why women say that they’re lingerie for men.
Mom: Oh my God. I have to delete these texts in case your father reads them. Don’t ever mention Bruno’s bulge to your father. Promise me.
I grinned and placed my phone back into my pocket only to look up and see Bruno staring at me with a look of desire on his face.
“What?” I asked him.
His eyes traveled the length of my body again.
“I wanted to wake up and have you again,” he admitted. “But you weren’t there.”
I shrugged. “I have an emergency edit to do from a new client. Sorry for your bad luck.”
He laughed at me then.
“The pigs would be pissed at me anyway,” he agreed. “They are used to getting fed at around seven in the morning. If I hadn’t shown up soon, they would’ve let their displeasure be known.”
I had noticed that they were getting rather rambunctious after they saw the kitchen light go on.
“That’s funny,” I told him. “I can feed them if you want.”
He tilted his head. “I can…”
&
nbsp; “Your head still hurts.” I eyed him knowingly.
He blinked. “Well, yeah. I nearly had it ran over.”
I tilted my head sideways. “How do you know that?”
He opened his mouth to reply, then closed it as a look of concentration lit his face.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just… know. It was almost run over. I don’t know why I know, though.”
“Hmm,” I said as I stood up and walked to the kitchen cabinet. “Do you want coffee?”
He grunted out a ‘yes’ and went to take a seat where I’d just vacated.
The chair that felt like it was big when I was sitting in it looked dwarfed when he took it.
I turned my back on him and started in on the coffee making.
Once his drink was ready, I walked it over to him, placed it onto the table, and then leaned in until my upper body was resting against his between his splayed thighs.
His hands went to my upper thighs, where he realized that I was once again not wearing underwear.
Last night, I’d known what I was doing by walking to the bathroom.
I’d also known he could see everything thanks to the light I’d left on for him in the bathroom.
I did make sure to turn it out on the way back out of the bathroom, though, blanketing us in darkness so that he could make the first move if he wanted to. Or pretend like he hadn’t seen a thing.
Thankfully—for me and him—he hadn’t pretended anything.
Just as I was about to straddle his thighs, right then and there, the awful squealing started again.
Bruno chuckled at the exaggerated sigh that fell from my lips.
“I can go…” He started to push me away.
I snorted and got off of him.
“No way, Jose.” I turned my back on him as I headed to the back door where I’d put my rain boots earlier when I’d washed them free of all mud and other things that’d been caked on them. “I’d much rather use you for other nefarious activities than that.”
His chuckle followed me out the door.
When I arrived in the barn, something immediately didn’t seem right.
The gurgling squeals hadn’t died down any, but all of the cats that’d been there last time I’d gone into the barn were gone, and even the cow didn’t greet me at the fence.
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