He dipped his lips down until his nose brushed against the underside of my breast, and it was like he'd flipped a switch inside me. I wanted his mouth doing more than licking, brushing, whispering against me - I wanted him to devour me. I thrust my chest forward and he growled, sucking one nipple deep into his mouth, and twisting the other into a hard, tight peak within seconds.
I'd had a few guys pay attention to my chest, but never like this - most wanted to lick my tits like an ice cream cone, like they were playthings; little fidget toys dangling from my body they could amuse themselves with until the main event. Jordan was different from the beginning. At the slightest encouragement, he gave me more of what made me moan - his teeth gently scraping against my areola as he laved his tongue along the lower swoop of each breast, palm hot as he lifted and squeezed the other.
Whatever fullness I'd felt between my legs when he'd first taken me to bed had expanded to an almost unbearable tension between my thighs. I'd heard of girls begging in bed, heard that it turned some guys on, but I'd never been brought the precipice of something enticing enough to beg for. Tonight was different.
"Please, Jordan," I managed to rasp out. "Touch me."
I felt his growl of agreement deep in his chest, and my lips twitched up through my panting breaths at the thought that, as much as Jordan swore this was for me, he seemed to be enjoying himself at least as much as I was.
He pushed up on his knees, dropping me back with a soft thud onto the mattress, sending my hair splaying out against the pillows and making me feel enticing as an ice cream sundae on a hot summer day. My skirt was gone in the next instant, victim to his clever hands. He licked his lips as he crawled toward me on the mattress, then dropped to his side next to me and pressed a hot, rough kiss to my mouth. His palm dragged down between my breasts, over my stomach, and he wiggled his fingers ever so slightly as he went, a preview what he had in store for me.
They pushed past the band of my panties, raked through the trimmed curls underneath, and slid between my legs like that had been their anticipated destination this whole time. A grunt of satisfaction rumbled from his throat. "Jesus, you're so wet."
After a few moments of slicking his fingers through my wetness, his kisses grew harder, faster, and then all of a sudden, he pulled away, growling, then mouthing at my shoulders, chest, and ribs again. I was about to ask what was wrong before I realized that he was kissing a determined path down to where his hand had just been.
Apprehension twisted in my gut, threatening to dispel the arousal growing there.
"This is, uh..." I cleared my throat. "It's a first for me."
"Which part?" he mumbled against my hip bone as he let his lips take the same path his fingers had. He nipped at the small protrusion of bone from the curve of my hip, then licked at it. He was so close to where I wanted him, yet entirely too far away. My hips twitched upward, desperate to have him, any part of him, working against the unbearable swell at my core.
"All of it," I moaned, letting my hips push just a bit farther, hoping he got it this time. "But especially your mouth. There.”
His lips tugged up into a tiny smile, then he dipped his head and kissed a line along where my thigh met my pussy. I could feel his breath on my clit, and with how worked up I already was, it was almost enough to send me into a frenzy.
“Jordan, please,” I said, my words more a desperate whimper than anything resembling coherent speech.
There it was. For the first time in my life, I was begging a guy to do things to me.
And I wasn’t the least bit embarrassed.
The room had darkened to the pale blue of an early spring evening, and the passing cars outside our windows painted streaks of white noise through the air around us. Jordan's gray sheets and his scent all over them - probably just a laundry detergent I wasn't used to plus whatever cologne rubbed off from his skin last night - were foreign enough, combined with the rest of this new-to-me apartment, to completely lose myself. I wasn't Elizabeth Palmer, recent loser grad of the UPenn journalism program who couldn't get a decent job, not even with her dad's connections - I was writhing, nearly naked, beneath the very adept attentions of an incredibly sexy guy I’d hardly thought about for the past six years, feeling things nobody had ever made my body feel before, and enjoying myself very, very much.
All it took was one more whimper for him to slide his fingers all the way down through my folds and back up again, making a very obvious slicking sound and sending a sizzling jolt of lust through me. Instinctively, I tensed, whether chasing the growing warmth at my center or trying to quell it, I couldn't have said. He shifted at that, settling his chest over my thighs, keeping one hand gently brushing against my wetness and sliding the other firmly back up over my stomach. "Relax," he repeated, letting his palm lay heavy on my navel, a reminder of his instructions.
I groaned in surrender to a tension I didn't even know I'd been fighting. I let my muscles loose, allowing the mattress to support my body and the sheets cradle me in a nest I never wanted to leave. The next time Jordan dipped his fingers down, he pressed the tip of one in and out, in and out, each time trailing along one of my walls. I shivered, letting out a breathy moan to let him know just how much I welcomed the invasion.
Once again, his lips traveled over my skin, making me enjoy their journey as much as their final destination. Unlike the way he'd used his fingers, he dove in with his mouth like my pussy was a decadent dessert he couldn't wait a second longer to enjoy. A hot, open-mouthed kiss to my clit was all I needed to go into a full-on frenzy, barely able to keep breathing in and out, let alone keep my hips from jolting off the bed once again. I would have sworn Jordan chuckled then, pressing once again down on my belly, all at once caring and commanding.
"That's okay, then?" he asked, a slight hint of teasing in his tone, even though he clearly had very little intention of teasing me tonight.
"Oh God, yes," I moaned, the words rasping out of my throat in pure supplication. "Don't stop."
His tongue went back between my legs eagerly, and he only half-managed to control my hips, keeping the movement down to a gentle thrust in time with his licks. The wet warmth of his mouth perfectly met the little throbs of need pulsing through my center, and with each movement of his lips, the noises rolling off my tongue became throatier, needier. A coil of desperation for whatever lay at the end of this path wound tighter in me every second and reached a nearly unbearable tension when Jordan's fingers brushed through my folds once more.
Gently, he pushed one, then two fingers inside me, mapping the most secret part of my body with the ridges of his fingerprints. I rocked my hips against his hand, only for him to pull out again. A cry of half-agony, half-indignation broke past my lips, but half a second later, he'd replaced one finger with two, tracing magical patterns inside me, like he could touch and feel the tension there and, instead of relieving it, would be content to sit and memorize its shape and weight for hours.
I would be content with no such thing. Not now that he’d started.
Even though his fingers worked patiently, the rasp of his tongue against my clit became faster, more intense, like he'd been climbing a mountain all this time and now, seeing the peak, was newly encouraged. Every nerve ending seemed to have shown up for this party, and I was sure I could feel individual taste buds collecting the drops of my arousal and drinking them in. Suddenly, the pressure on my clit changed. Jordan stopped reaching his tongue out to taste it and finally went all in, wrapping his lips around the tiny bundle of nerves and flicking it back and forth, letting it scrape against his teeth.
"Oh… oh my Godddd," I keened in surprise as my head flopped to the side, the coolness of the pillowcase against my cheek a welcome oasis in this bubble of heat Jordan had suspended me in. But I didn't have much time to get used to that before his fingers began to move with purpose, too, joining together and hooking upward into my channel. He pressed them both into the small, rough spot of flesh there with a steady, firm pulse.
<
br /> He'd just lit the fuse on the grand finale of fireworks on the fourth of freaking July.
Every cell of my body, every fiber of my being, turned its attention to that one deep, throbbing heat inside me, pulling in farther and farther, tighter and tighter, until my body just couldn't hold it back any more. A deep, consuming warmth crashed over my whole body in waves, and I let out a heady, keening gasp as my neck bent straight back, my forehead pressing into the pillows as I gasped helplessly.
Slowly, I relaxed, the air in Jordan's room suddenly cool against my sweat-sheened skin. The shattered pieces of my reality slowly gathered themselves back together under Jordan's gentle, rhythmic touch, like iron shavings to a strong magnet. His fingertips skimmed over my belly, down one thigh, then back up again and down the other side. One breath at a time, my chest stopped heaving. The empty spaces between my muscles and bones and skin started to fill with a deep, pleasant weight, and I let Jordan's soft sheets and strong arm cradle me as I recovered.
Finally, I felt that I could open my eyes. He was waiting for me, and his deep brown eyes looked into mine with a look of tenderness and amazement and lust and excitement, all rolled in one. The amazing full feeling I'd felt down low just minutes ago seemed to have migrated to my heart, now so full-up I could swear it would burst.
Jordan scooted up and brushed his talented fingertips along my hairline, tucking a stray, slightly-sweaty strand of hair behind my ear. The delicious smooth weight of his torso half-pressing down on mine was a grounding comfort, and I hummed in approval. He watched me, curious and sweet, and I gazed back for a few moments until I realized he was waiting for me to say something.
"That was..." I breathed, at a total loss for words. "Wow," I finished lamely. "Thank you," I said, watching the crinkle of his eye with his little smile, suddenly wanting very badly to trace the planes and contours of his face with my own fingertips.
He shook his head, and I became focused on his curls. When had they gone from geeky to so completely touchable and sexy? Probably about the same time he got pecs and a six-pack, idiot.
"Don't thank me," he said, letting his forehead touch my shoulder for the briefest second. "I enjoyed myself just as much as you did."
My eyebrow arched up, and I raised my head as much as I could manage. "I find that very hard to believe," I said, sighing at the boneless feeling in all my limbs and letting my head fall back to the pillow once again.
"Yeah?" he grinned. God, that smile was infectious, and I swore I could have stared at it all night, even though I knew it was a clear sign of Jordan's rapidly growing cockiness.
"Don't let your head swell up too much over this, but...yeah," I said, my voice growing softer on the last word as I drew my bottom lip behind my teeth. "It, um...I don't know what you did? But I've never felt anything even close to that before."
He propped himself up on one elbow, shaking his head a bit like he couldn't believe what I was saying. "Never? Like...never had an orgasm before?"
"Not one like that? Not even, um...not even one I gave myself. You, my friend, are a total outlier. Completely unique."
The grin that stretched across his face then brought a giggle bubbling out of my throat. "Yeah, yeah. We're both pretty happy about it," I said through a smile of my own. "So, you know. Thank you."
He reached up and tipped the brim of an invisible cowboy hat, winking at me. “Much obliged, ma’am,” he said in an exaggerated Southern accent.
Finally regaining some strength in my arms, I giggled and swatted his shoulder. “Okay. Never do that again.”
He chuckled, finally flopping to his back beside me. We spent a few seconds gazing at the ceiling. I was just grateful he wasn’t staring at me anymore because I could finally let the grin really take over. I’d just had the best orgasm of my entire life, and hell if it didn’t make my entire day shift from the realm of Entirely Shitty to the Land of Completely Fantastically Extraordinary.
God, I’d probably needed to come like that more than I imagined.
“Do you need anything?” Jordan asked quietly, turning his head to me again. “Washcloth, a glass of water? More wine?”
He started to inch toward the edge of the bed, and something deep in my chest panged. Before I could even think about it, my hand darted out and grabbed his arm. “Wait, are we—we aren’t—I mean, we’re not done, are we?”
Chapter 7
Jordan
Her eyes were shocked and wide, and I swore up and down that no girl’s face had ever made me want to do anything more than Liz’s had. Her hazel-swirled-with-green retinas bordered on hypnotic.
I reversed course immediately, sliding back under the covers just in time for my cock to begin its fast re-ascension. It was like Jesus Christ himself, except I was sure in this moment that Liz’s body was more heavenly than anything He would have been headed for, and my cock sure as hell wasn’t going to take three days to arrive there.
But I did want to be sure. My offer to Liz, my desire to show her what pleasure could be like, had been open and real, no strings attached. Obviously, I’d been damn eager to get my mouth on that delicious body of hers, and the fact that she’d never been treated like a real lady in bed was the travesty that sent me on the give-Lizzie-an-epic-orgasm warpath. I wasn’t expecting anything more from her than to let me show her how a nice guy treats a girl like her in bed, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to complain if she wanted to return the favor.
Five years at Stanford really had made me a genius, the most important evidence of which now was the fact that I’d kept the box of condoms from my nightstand in California in the same box as my bedding. Sheets went into the washer, and condoms went right to their new home on the opposite coast.
Not that I was thinking of anyone in particular to use them with when I dropped them in there. Not that I found myself slipping into daydreams about Lizzie and her shiny hair and bright smile and perfectly grabbable ass since I’d spent some mental time with her in the shower the night before.
Okay, I had. Whatever. Now that she was offering, no harm, no foul, right?
“We don’t have to be done,” I growled, rolling myself over her and propping up on my forearms. She wasn’t a tiny little thing that would be crushed by my weight, not by any means, but I still didn’t think it would be a good idea to suffocate her after the way I’d just ratcheted her heart rate up five minutes ago.
Just thinking of it put a smug smile on my face. I wondered whether, if I licked my lips, I’d still be able to taste a tiny bit of her juices lingering there.
I’d be lying if I said my heart rate hadn’t gone right up with hers. I’d never been with a girl as responsive as she was to every single contact between my fingers and her skin, never been so turned on by the sounds coming out any girl’s mouth, never gotten so hard going down on a girl because I was imagining that mouth on my cock while I sucked on her clit.
Every other girl I’d been with had been a little flustered while giving me oral sex instructions - a geeky engineering student had to learn somehow - or only humored me with halfhearted grunts when I wasn’t hitting exactly the right spot. But Liz? She loved every second of what I did to her, and it felt damn good. It was enough to get a guy addicted.
“Good,” she said, smacking a kiss to my mouth and following it with a teasing smile. I rocked against her almost instinctively, making sure she could feel just how hard I’d gotten in the last twenty seconds since she’d pulled me back to bed. She sucked in a breath and I could have sworn her eyes rolled back a little, too. She ghosted another kiss against my lips. “Do you…have something?”
I grinned wolfishly at her. This was one of the things other guys didn’t realize - if you go down on a girl, it’s a near guarantee that when it’s time to get to the hips-to-hips portion of the evening, she’ll be wet, ready, and dying to have your cock inside her. “Yep.”
“Wow, are you like some sexual boy scout now?” she teased. I tilted my head to the side. I didn’t want to talk abou
t experience, or ex-girlfriends, or whether I was looking for something more serious - not now. Thankfully, judging by her little laugh after she asked the question, she wasn’t either.
“Compared to the last time you saw me? I would hope so.” I growled as I kissed away the joke, and stretched an arm to fumble in my drawer, pulling a little foil packet out of it triumphantly.
I was still wearing my pesky pajama pants, but Liz was already shoving her fingers into the waistband, raking her nails over my ass and making my cock even more rigid. I sat back on my heels, pulled them halfway down, rolled the condom on, and kicked them the rest of the way off as I stretched back out over her.
I supported myself on one elbow and brushed the hair from her forehead. “You okay?” I murmured an inch from her lips.
She nodded and reached down, wrapping a warm and steady hand around me. “Very, very okay,” she said, and in the next instant, I pushed into her, bit by bit, trying to assess how we’d fit together. How fast I could go.
As I pressed in, she pushed up, and I groaned at the realization that we fit together fucking perfectly. Every centimeter of her was exactly snug enough to stoke a hot fire inside me, and just slick enough to let me bury myself inside her with a single thrust.
Her head tipped back again, mouth dropping open in a silent moan, and I let my eyes flutter closed, giving myself over to the deep, dark pleasure coursing through my veins. It wasn’t until Liz squeezed herself around me that I let my head drop to her shoulder and began a slow, steady rhythm, pulling back and giving in, over and over. I could have done this forever.
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