After a shower, I have nothing left to do but wait and it’s not even noon yet. So now I’m in the living room with the TV on, but thinking about how I want this night to go.
After all this time, I’m immediately going to want to take her to bed and have my way with her. But I think I’ll prolong the wait a little more by making dinner for us. Plus, it’ll be nice to have a conversation without worrying about other students or staff watching.
With that thought in mind, I decide to head to the grocery store and pick up a few things.
There, I run into Lorraine.
“Elijah, what a pleasant surprise,” she says, coming over to kiss my cheek. “What are you up to this weekend?”
“Not a whole lot,” I lie. Then I realize that could be an invitation for her to plan something for us. “Well, nothing outside the norm. I have plans with my brothers.”
She nods once. “I see.”
“You? Any plans?” I ask, feeling slightly guilty for always blowing her off. I should find the right time to tell her there’s no hard feelings, but that I’m not interested in anything serious.
“Oh, I’m going to a friend’s house tonight. Just a bunch of women getting together to snack, drink wine, and complain about our love lives,” she says with a laugh.
“Ah, well, I hope you have a good time. See you around,” I say, turning the corner.
Once I’m done shopping, I head back home and put everything away, go out back to play fetch with Sugarfoot, making sure he gets plenty of exercise, then busy myself with grading homework and cleaning the house.
After what feels like years, it’s nearing seven o’clock and dinner is in the oven. At five past seven, I worry she lost the napkin I slipped her with my address on it. At ten past seven, the doorbell rings and my feet quickly carry me to the door. I take a deep breath before opening it.
Nova stands before me in a pair of blue jeans, a cream-colored sweater, and brown boots, but more importantly, she has a huge smile on her face.
“Hey.”
“Hi,” I reply, staring into those warm, honey brown eyes. Her curly hair is tied up, but a handful of curls cover her forehead and frame her face.
“I took a Lyft so my car wouldn’t be parked outside.”
“Smart.”
She steps inside and her eyes bounce around before landing back on me. “So, I’m back.”
I grin. “You probably left that night thinking you’d never be back here again.”
“I left hating the fact that I didn’t get your number. Guess fate was looking out for me.”
“Fate could’ve picked another way to bring us back together,” I groan.
She laughs. “I’m not complaining.”
I lead her toward the kitchen. “Because you like the taboo?”
“Because I like excitement.”
“And risk?”
“Nothing worth having comes easy.”
I raise my brows at her, but she ducks her head as a blush rushes to her cheeks. “I made us dinner,” I say, changing the subject.
“I brought dessert,” she states.
I turn around and inspect her, then she gives me a pointed look and I’m suddenly wanting to skip dinner and go straight for dessert.
“You’re trouble,” I growl.
“You love it.”
I guide her to the island in the kitchen where I already have our plates set, then I make my way to the oven to remove the pork chops, arranging the dishes in front of us so we can help ourselves.
“It’s apple cider pork chops, rice pilaf, and green beans. I have water, soda, and iced tea. What do you want?”
She smiles up at me, her eyes bright. “You didn’t have to do all this. I would’ve been fine with ordering pizza.”
I shake my head. “I’ve done that enough to last me a lifetime. This is better for you.”
She laughs. “You’re right. You may have to teach me a few things because I’m still perfecting spaghetti. And I’ll take water. Thank you.”
“How can you not have perfected spaghetti already?” I ask with a chuckle.
“Well, I never know how many noodles to make. I’m always afraid I won’t make enough and end up cooking up enough for two. And do you make sauce from scratch? Or just buy a can of sauce? I feel like those cans lack flavor, so I’m always trying to add certain spices. I don’t know. I’ll get there.”
I bring over a couple bottles of water, laughing. “Well, spaghetti is still better than eating pizza every night.”
She nods. “Yeah, I only do that like twice a week.” She cuts her eyes at me and grins.
“Terrible.”
She slices into the pork chop and puts the chunk in her mouth. I find myself watching her chew, waiting for a reaction.
“Mmm. Oh my God, Elijah, this is good.”
Content, I grin and dig into my own food. “Thank you. I’m glad you like it.”
“Definitely almost as good as pizza.”
I give her an unamused look, and then she falls into my side, cracking up. “I’m kidding.”
I can’t help but laugh alongside her. “Yeah, yeah. You’ll be addicted to my cooking before you know it and nothing will ever compare.”
“We’ll see.”
We finish up dinner with comfortable conversation. We don’t touch on anything too serious or too personal, but it flows well.
“Can I use your bathroom?” she asks.
“Of course.” I show her to the bathroom, then tell her to meet me in the den, and point out where to go.
I pour two fingers’ worth of whiskey in a highball glass, then take a sip. When she walks in, she comes straight to me. “Can I have one?”
“Preference?”
She eyes the bottles of liquors and mixers on the small bar in my den. “Rum and Coke sounds good.”
After pouring the drink, I hand it to her and she whispers a thanks before heading to the armchair.
I’m right behind her, choosing to sit on the couch to her right. She takes a sip of her drink, watching me the whole time.
“Are you nervous?” I ask.
She lets out a short laugh. “Why do you ask that?”
“Because you chose to sit in that chair and not on this couch.”
“Oh,” she says with a nervous giggle.
I take a sip of my drink. “It’s okay if you are.”
“I know I shouldn’t be. We’ve already slept together, and I’ve been wanting to do it again since the first day of school. I guess I always knew you wouldn’t allow anything to happen, but now it’s real.” She takes a drink. “You gonna tell me what changed now? Why are you suddenly okay with this?”
“Because I can’t stop thinking about you. That doesn’t happen to me. There’s something about you that makes me want more.”
She gives me a shy smile. “Oh. So, this…us…what is it?”
“What can it be, Nova?” I ask, frowning. “Like I said last night, I can’t offer you much.”
“No, I know. But me coming over, this will be a fairly regular thing? Not like a second helping and then done?”
I smirk at her. “I need way more than two helpings. I have an insatiable appetite.”
Her cheeks redden, and I decide I have to take control. She wants this, but she’s holding onto her nerves. I have to help her loosen up.
I swallow down the rest of my drink and walk over to her, giving her my hand. “Come on, Nova. I think you promised me dessert.”
28
Upstairs, once again in Elijah’s room, I let him escort me to the huge, perfectly made up bed. He sits me down, then drops to his knees to remove my shoes.
I watch him with quiet amazement as he takes control and removes every article of clothing until I’m left in my bra and panties. It’s then that he takes a step back and begins to strip himself of his shoes, shirt, pants, and socks.
“Christ,” I murmur aloud, meaning only to think it. I forgot how good he looks beneath his usual button-ups and slacks
. He has a smattering of hair across his chest and stomach, and his muscles are full and thick, making it obvious that he works out pretty regularly.
He reaches into the top drawer of his nightstand and tosses a couple of condoms on the bed before he begins to crawl over me.
I scooch up, making my way up toward the pillows, and he follows.
Lost in the blue of his eyes, I watch as he descends toward my mouth, his soft lips brushing against mine before his tongue slides in and caresses my own.
He swallows my moan, deepening the kiss as I claw at his back and wrap my legs around him. His large hand moves to my neck, his fingers at the base of my skull as his thumb dances across the hollow of my throat.
Lost in the taste of whiskey and mint, I don’t realize he’s trying to back away from me right away. When we separate, our chests heave with deep breaths, like we’re just coming up from underwater.
Elijah begins moving away, and I say, “Where are you going?”
He smirks, moving lower down my body. “A man’s gotta eat.”
A flurry of heat fills my stomach as my heart beats wildly in my chest.
He takes his time working his way down, touching and squeezing, kissing and licking. He’s worshipping every part of me, and I slam my head back into the pillow, closing my eyes, because I’ve never been enjoyed so thoroughly, and we’re not even done yet.
At my hips, he tugs on the material, and I arch up off the bed, allowing him to draw them over my ass.
After discarding my panties to the floor, he settles in between my legs and holds my thighs apart.
“Good God, Nova,” he says, his voice thick with lust. In the next second, his mouth is on me.
Elijah slowly licks from my wet entrance up to my clit, and a wanton moan follows a loud gasp as my fingers instantly tangle themselves in his hair.
“Oh shit.”
“Mm,” he moans, tasting me.
While on his stomach, with his face buried between my legs, a hand reaches up and massages my breast while his tongue does magical things to my clit.
If there was a class you took to learn how to perform cunnilingus like a god, Elijah would be the professor of that, too. He switches between flattening his tongue and licking me up and down in slow, soft strokes, then uses the tip of his tongue to focus heavily on the clit with quick flicks.
His tongue gently and briefly dips inside of me, then focuses back on my clit. He kisses, sucks, and licks every part of me down there, and I keep my hands on his head, never wanting him to let up.
While he focuses on that special bundle of nerves, he slides two fingers inside of me, curling them up and causing my body to spasm.
“Oh, God!” I cry.
Elijah brings me to the precipice of euphoria, leaving me teetering on the edge while he removes his fingers and begins placing kisses on my inner thighs.
I’m panting like a wild beast, my body on fire. “Elijah,” I whine.
He gets up on his knees and wipes the evidence of just how turned on I am from his lips with his hand. “Trust me,” is all he says.
It’s then that my eyes find his erection straining against his underwear, dying to be freed. “Let me return the favor,” I say, staring at his cock.
His hand drops down, rubbing it through the blue material. “You will. But not right now. Get up, get on all fours and turn around.”
I bite down on my lip and stare at him. He simply strokes himself through his underwear again, watching me as his tongue snakes across his bottom lip, and I realize then that I’m totally at his mercy. I’m willing to do whatever he says, because I know it’ll be worth it.
On my hands and knees, I expose my most private parts to him. Only a couple seconds go by before I feel him move. His hands roam over my ass, squeezing the soft flesh before moving up and caressing my hips. He unsnaps my bra, and I help in discarding it to the floor.
Before I know what’s going to happen, the heat of his body pressed against mine disappears and then his tongue is tasting me again.
I instantly fist the covers, throwing my head back with a moan. Elijah squeezes my ass and thighs while completely devouring me. Once again, he hits all the right spots.
After a couple minutes, he drops to the bed on his back, then pulls me down to where I’m nearly sitting on his face.
“Oh my God,” I cry.
Elijah revels in the taste of me. Granted, I’m not that experienced, but I didn’t think men loved doing this. He seems to get as much out of it as I do.
“Holy shit. Elijah. Oh my God,” I chant. My hips start moving on their own, seeking more friction, and Elijah responds with a husky moan.
Before I’m transported to cloud nine, he stops, switching positions again.
“You’re killing me,” I groan, lying on my back.
He grins and leans in for a kiss. “You’ll survive.”
Finally, he removes his boxer-briefs and reaches for one of the condoms. I watch him sheathe his thick length, practically drooling at the sight.
On his knees, he grabs ahold of himself and dips the crown of his cock inside me. We both moan at the same time.
He pushes in slowly, watching himself disappear inside me. “God, Nova. You’re so tight.” He grunts. “So fucking wet.” Another groan escapes him as he buries himself to the hilt. “So goddamn perfect.”
Words are lost on me as he thrusts in and out. My body is on pins and needles thanks to his glorious mouth. My pussy is primed, engorged, and ready to explode. If I didn’t think foreplay was important before, I definitely know now.
He fucks me like he never wants me to forget this night, like he’s claiming me as his. He’s pulled out all the stops. There is no way anybody could ever compare to this man.
Back on his knees, still moving in and out of me, his thumb presses on my clit, rubbing circles.
Every nerve ending in my body is on high alert. I’m completely saturated in pleasure and overcome with pure, unfiltered bliss, and my eyes burn like there’s unshed tears wanting to come out. Why on earth would pleasure bring me to tears? Oh my God, “I’m about to come!” I scream.
Elijah keeps moving as my body tenses up, and he’s still going when I begin to shake with the aftershocks of the orgasm that I thought would never end. My throat’s already hoarse from the scream I released into the room.
Elijah’s pace changes, his muscles tense even more, and then he grunts. “Fuck. Oh fuck.”
He comes with a deep roar, his body spasming as his orgasm takes over his body.
For a couple minutes, we stay connected, catching our breath. I gently run my hand over his back as he tries to keep as much of his weight off me as possible.
When we finally disentangle ourselves, we both take turns using the bathroom to clean up, but before I head in, he opens a drawer in his dresser and tosses me a shirt.
“So you’ll be comfortable,” he says.
I grin, bringing the shirt to my chest and disappearing into the bathroom. I guess he wants me to stay.
29
I didn’t intend for her to stay when I first invited her over, and I would be fine if she wanted to leave, but it’s Saturday and I don’t see anything wrong with hanging out for a little while. I want to learn more about what makes her… her.
She comes out of the bathroom just as I’m pulling a clean shirt over my head. “Want a pair of shorts or pants?” I ask, eyeing her bare legs.
“I’ll take some shorts. Thanks.”
I find a pair of athletic shorts and hand them to her. “May have to fold it over a couple times, but these should work.”
“Thank you.”
She makes quick work of getting them on and making sure they don’t slip off her waist, and I put on a pair of gray sweats.
“Want to head downstairs? We could have another drink or snack on something. Whatever you want.”
Her smile fills me with warmth. “I’m down for anything. Just lead the way.”
I reach out and circle her
wrist with my fingers before swallowing her dainty hand in mine. We make our way across the hardwood floor, passing the loft area. Sugarfoot’s head snaps up and his ears lift slightly as our footsteps get louder. He’s the most laid-back dog I’ve ever known.
When he notices it’s not just me, he stands up, stretches, shakes, then plods over. Nova comes to a stop as soon as she notices him, and when he approaches her, he gives her feet, knees, and hand a few sniffs, then she bends down and pets him.
“Oh my God, he’s so cute. And quiet. I had a friend back in Florida who had this yappy little beast of a dog. He always barked and growled when I came in. But not you,” she says, turning back to Sugarfoot, cradling his head in her hands. “No, you’re a good boy.” She looks up at me. “Boy, right?”
I chuckle. “Yeah.”
“What’s his name?”
“Sugarfoot.”
She gasps. “I love it. Is it because of this paw?” she asks, talking to the dog as she holds his paw in her hand. “It’s because of this white, little paw, isn’t it? Oh my God, you’re gonna have to pry me away. I love him already.”
“He can come with us. Come on, boy,” I say, slapping a hand on my thigh. “Want a treat?”
Sugarfoot trots ahead of us, making his way downstairs and to the kitchen. “So happy you’re a dog guy and not a cat guy,” Nova says, coming up and taking my hand again.
“You don’t like cats?”
She scrunches her face up. “Not really. I’m not too sure why, though. They just seem like uppity little assholes.”
“My brother’s girlfriend has a cat. He hates cats, but for her, he’s doing pretty good putting up with it,” I say with a laugh.
When we get to the kitchen, I give Sugarfoot his treat, then me and Nova figure out what kind of snacks to take to the living room. When she spots the popcorn, she squeals. “Ooh, can we have this?”
I’ll never be able to tell her no if she keeps looking at me with those doe eyes and megawatt smile.
“Of course. I’ll pop it in now. Feel free to grab something to drink from the fridge.”
“You want a Gatorade?” she asks.
“Sure. Thanks.”
Against the Rules Page 12