The day’s hot and the beer’s cold so I drink some more. It tastes good and the world’s taken on a sparkly edge.
Bite me.
I don’t even realize I’ve said it out loud. Elias gives me a look so dark, so lusty, it fries every brain cell I possess.
“Darlin’,” he says slowly. “I don’t think you’re ready for that. Because as soon as I start bitin’ and licking and tasting you, there’s no way in hell I’ll be able to stop.”
Oh.
He smiles again and says, “Come on,” all blasé, like he didn’t just talk about tasting me. He flicks his head sideways as a light command to follow him. “Let’s go for that swim.”
“It’s a fucking scorcher,” he says, as we walk towards the pond.
“Yeah, it’s hot.”
“After we swim, I’ll cook you somethin’ to eat, if you want. You must be hungry.”
“A little,” I say, but it’s the last thing on my mind.
I’m curious. About him. I don’t know a thing about him. Not where he comes from or who he is. The only thing I know about Elias Hayes is that something is about to happen. Something that could quite possibly change my life. And I’m sort of craving more information beyond the fact that he possesses the ability to practically set me on fire with one flick of his dark-jeweled glance. I’m riveted by the way his thick hair falls across his forehead. The graceful, gilded shape of his broad shoulders and the color of his skin makes me feel like writing a song about him. And like doing something with him to write a song about. “What made you want to move all the way out here?”
His eyes narrow, as though he’s gauging something and he’s mildly entertained by my ignorance. “I wanted some privacy,” he finally says. “I needed a place to get away from it all. Where nobody knows me and I can hear myself think.”
I wonder what he feels the need to get away from but he doesn’t elaborate and I don’t push him.
We get to the water’s edge. Elias takes off his work boots and tosses them into the grass, then walks straight into the pond and dives under. He swims all the way out to the middle of the pond and floats there, on his back. I’m not quite ready to strip down to my bikini. I wish it wasn’t as non-existent as it is. I mean, sure, he’s seen me already, but I wasn’t aware of that, at the time, until after the fact. And I’m relieved that that particular topic hasn’t come up again. I wade in to my ankles and splash in the water lightly with my feet.
He crooks a finger at me, signalling for me to come to him, but I just smile. Then he comes towards me. He walks out of the water and stands close. He shakes his hair out so the tiny stinging droplets splash all over me and I squeal and try to move away but he grabs my wrist in his strong grip.
“Don’t run,” he says.
His smile is playful and gorgeous. His hair is black and dripping. Something about Elias’s hair is just so alluring. My hands are itching to grab fistfuls of it and pull him to me. I want to lick his wicked, sensual mouth.
“Come in with me. The water’s fucking beautiful,” he says. I have a weird craving to hear him growl his oaths. To somehow inspire him to lose all control.
I’m smiling. I can’t help it.
He laughs, as he watches my face.
“What’s funny?”
“Let me hear you say it,” he says.
“Say what?”
“’Fuck’. I want to hear you swear.”
I can feel myself blush. Am I that obvious? That I’m a prim, inexperienced hick? It’s true I’ve never said it.
“You’re wilder than you let on,” he says. “When you’re alone.”
My blush rages but I don’t look away.
He takes my hand in his warm grasp, still smiling. “I like your wild side.”
He’s holding my hand.
I think of those lyrics. You’re a wild, wild girl and I know what you like.
His fingers brush the fray of my jean shorts. “Take these off,” he says. “Come in with me.”
At his touch, my inhibitions begin to fade. I feel bold and luck-drunk. I let him pull my tank top over my head. I unbutton my shorts and let them fall to the ground. When he sees my bikini – what little of it there is – his jaw literally drops. His eyes grow dark, the pupils swallowing up his sapphire-colored irises. He blinks thick lashes.
I like that he’s speechless. I want to hold him in this spell, where it’s just me and him here alone under the sun, singing our own tune.
I pull out my hair-tie, letting my hair spill over my shoulders. It hangs all the way down my back in loose coils. I attempt to adjust my bikini into place but it’s ridiculously skimpy. The little triangles of the bikini top cover my nipples but not much else. My breasts are way too full for it but I don’t care. I stand up and turn away from him to walk slowly into the water. I can feel his gaze like the hot sun on my skin. Nothing has ever felt so good as this.
I can sense that he’s following me. Just knowing this, that he’s coming after me, starts the low humming heat in my torso. It builds and lowers, centering. I feel the slickness gather, the light, aching throb. I’m up to my thighs and I lean forward to splash water onto my arms. He’s right behind me. The huge, hot bulk of him is almost touching my backside as I play. The tiny scrap of damp, clinging material is all that covers my plumped, wet folds.
I dive in, swimming towards the big flat rock. I feel like a sensuous mermaid. I have never felt more alive. He’s there, following me. I can feel him. I crawl up onto the rock and lay on its smooth, warm surface. Elias crawls up too and crouches over me, like a big cat.
“Sadie,” he says. “You’re so beautiful. You’re seriously blowing my mind.”
I do it: I reach into his dripping hair, weaving my fingers into thick, wet locks and pull his face to mine, touching my closed lips to his. I’ve never kissed a boy before. I’m not sure how. I let my lips press against him. But Elias’s mouth is hungry. I gasp as he boldly parts my lips with his tongue, caressing my lips with his, opening me. His tongue slides over mine and I can feel the contact as a zinging surge that stokes the sweet ache between my legs. Reflexively, my knees separate and his body lowers just enough to briefly press against me. The hardness of him! The big, heavy weight of his muscular body feeds a need in me that’s savage and vast. I pull him closer. I open to him and gently suck his tongue into my mouth.
Elias groans and deepens the kiss, angling my head, invading me in soft, greedy plunges. His tongue dances with mine and he adjusts his heavy body against me, until I can feel the hard contours of his huge bulk between my legs, where the softness of my flesh molds around his shape, cradling him. My hips tilt in a reflexive plead and Elias’s hot hardness presses against the most sensitive place imaginable, and again, until I gasp his name.
He exhales an oath and lifts himself, holding me down so I can’t move. “Hold still, darlin’,” he murmurs into my ear. “I know you’re ready. But I want to taste you when you come.”
His mouth moves to my neck, licking the delicate skin below my ear. Every touch of his tongue channels directly to my swollen, intimate flesh. Each nip of his teeth on my skin sends an invisible dart to the hot hollow between my legs, which feels warm and needy, making me squirm. As I do, I feel the sweet slickness at my core and between my buttocks. A hot-sweet glow has ignited me from my knees to my navel. I need to feel his weight on me again.
Our breathing is heavier now. I let my hands glide to his neck, his hard shoulders, his broad back. He’s so beautiful. The textures and shape and size of him, so deliciously, powerfully male.
And he’s so strong. I’m trying to pull him closer and wrap my arms around him but he’s holding me in place.
His mouth is slowly kissing little nips down my breast. He pauses, then his lips touch my nipple through the thin fabric of my bikini. His teeth, in a gentle demand, bite me.
The throb swells, and I moan. I think I might come. I’m so wet. I’m so ready and desperate for mo
re. But he’s kissing me again, the lightest, feathery touch of his lips.
“I’m gonna kiss you now, Sadie. You want me to lick you, darlin’?” he murmurs against me. “You want me to suck on you and make you come?”
“Yes. Yes.” I think I’m going crazy. The urges of my body are wild and hot, insanely extreme.
Elias’s fingers pull my bikini top to the side. He’s untied or ripped it so the scrap of fabric falls away, revealing the fullness of my naked breasts. He’s kissing my breasts, whispering lust-slurred, wicked words. Words I’ve barely even heard and never in a million years used.
Damn, Sadie, you’re the most gorgeous girl. I’m gonna suck those perfect nipples ‘til you come. Then I’m gonna lick every inch of your hot little squirming, luscious body. I’m gonna rip those panties off and taste your juicy pussy, honey, and lick you and bite you and eat you ‘til you come again. You want me, baby? You do, don’t you? You’re wild with it, you want me so damn bad.
God, I do. I really do. I shouldn’t. I should be grasping at some shred of common sense or some inkling of restraint that’s been so thoroughly drummed into me and is currently nowhere to be found.
“Elias,” I’m thinking, or maybe moaning, I can’t quite tell. “I want you. I want you so much. Put your mouth on me. Everywhere. Suck me. Bite me. Do it. Please, do it.”
Because if he doesn’t, I’m going to wrap myself around him and keep him there until he does. I’m going to beg and plead for that mouth to kiss me and that tongue to lick me. To eat me. The needy ache is a roaring wildfire in me.
And then he does it. His mouth closes around my nipple and he begins to suck me. His tongue licks the underside of my nipple in rough laves, then he draws more deeply, sucking in greedy pulls. I arch up to him, offering myself fully. He pinches my other nipple between two fingers, rotating gently. Then his palm cups my breast, squeezing and pinching. He slides his palm lower. It’s warm, so warm, feeding the heat of my body. He slides it lower, the callouses of his rough hands causing agonizingly delicious friction on the soft skin of my stomach. The hungry suction of his mouth as he feeds on me is igniting my body. Each pull sends a livewire of deep lust to the place where his fingers … oh, God … they’re sliding closer … closer. Under the fabric of my bikini bottoms. Over the sensitive, swollen flesh, finding that little hyper-sensitive nub. Centering there, rubbing with deliberate pressure as his mouth feasts in lusty pulls.
It’s enough.
The pleasure compounds into a peaking glide, then fractures into a million stars of clenching ecstasy. I’m flying. I’m crying. I’m in love with life. I’m in love with Elias Hayes and his mouth and his fingers. I’m floating on the swell as the ripples calm and ebb.
But he’s not done yet.
And neither am I.
We’re so ravenous it hurts.
My hands are gripping his big, hard body but his mouth leaves my breast and he’s sliding lower. His hands rip the flimsy cloth of what remains of my bikini and toss the shreds roughly away.
“Holy fuck, Sadie,” he rasps. Oh, God, his voice. With its edgy darkness and roughed-up desire. I almost come again. If he touches me, I will. I want to, so much. “I’m gonna kiss you now, baby. Right where you want me to. Nice and slow. You want some more, don’t you? You want it bad.”
“Elias, please. Kiss me. Please. Kiss me.” I’m begging now. I can’t wait any more. I need him to touch me.
My legs are already open but he pushes them wider with brutal strength, holding me down, dominating me easily. I love it. I want it. My sex is still pulsing with my orgasm, and I wonder if he can see this. I’m so outrageously exposed. So vulnerable. His mouth is so close I can feel the hot strikes of his breath.
Flickers of my rigid education hover at the edge of my consciousness, but they’re no match for Elias Hayes, who’s intent on giving me a whole new kind of education. Because, just then, his tongue licks into me. This is not a soft, hesitant initiation. This is lewd, insatiable worship. It’s wet, hungry, debauched. His tongue is everywhere, tasting and feasting with messy adoration. His rough, careful fingers are ridiculously intimate, sliding through the moisture, prodding and pressing gently. Opening me. Touching me in places I’ve never been touched. His mouth closes around the pulsing nub and the small rushes are starting. His hold gentles and his tongue dips into me, pushing deeper, in and out, in and out. His thumb finds my clit, swirling it, pressing. I come again, hard. His tongue is inside me and I can feel my inner muscles gripping him, drawing him deeper into my body.
The starry rush goes one and on.
As the waves begin to ease, he licks me again, kissing me, playing me with his fingers. The intimacy is astounding. I’ve given something of myself to Elias Hayes. I’ve let him past every boundary, not just physically. Like something about us has merged.
I want more. I don’t know if it’s possible to ever get enough of this.
A cloud wisps high in the sky above and it seems strange there. A remnant from an old reality.
He’s my new reality and I want to immerse myself in him.
He crawls up my body and lays next to me. He’s smiling and it’s the most sublime sight, his eyes all spangly and blue.
“Fuck,” I whisper, and his roguish smile widens.
He laughs a little. Then he’s quiet for a second. He’s staring deep into my eyes and the link is profound and connective. “You taste like heaven when you come,” he says.
How to reply to such a thing? Maybe it’s the beer I chugged, or the enlightenment of back-to-back orgasms – or a little of both – because we’re both shocked when I say softly, “Now it’s my turn … to find out what you taste like … when you come.”
He kisses me and it’s the most outrageous thing, to taste myself on his lips. I climb over him a little and he lays back, letting me set the pace. I take my time, kissing his lips. My naked body still hums with the after-effects of my climaxes. I feel supple and lush. I move lower, rubbing my hands across his hair-dusted chest. He seems to understand. He’s giving me time to explore him, to learn the textures and contours of his body. I’d rarely, in my life, ever even touched a man, and certainly not like this.
My fingers trace along the lines of his chest, his shoulders, his arms, his hands. Every inch of him is a work of art. All sculpted and bronzed and strong-looking, with ropy veins and a light sun-bleached pelt of hair on his chest, his arms. There’s a darker arrow line on his lower abdomen, leading south…
I draw my fingertips across his six-pack, fascinated by the hard, quilted muscles.
I’m getting closer.
To that gigantic swell in his shorts, the shape and bulk clearly outlined under the wet material.
I’m wildly curious.
I touch him over his wet shorts, letting my hand ease around the thick length, rubbing my palm across the hardness of him.
Elias groans.
Carefully, I unfasten his shorts and loosen them, pulling them low on his hips. I gasp as I free him. It’s like I imagined, but different. Bigger. Much bigger. And harder. It lays there rigid and engorged. Hot-looking. Here it is, this … this maleness in all its glory. The most primal wash of longing floods through me. I’m getting used to my reactions to Elias so I’m not surprised that my mouth is watering. I kneel between his legs and I put my hands on him. I slide my palms along his silky, solid length. I finger the ridge of the crown and the small slit. I swirl the bead of moisture that’s leaking there, and touch my finger to my tongue.
He watches me do this, and his breath catches. “Sadie,” he says. “I’m not gonna last long. You make me so hot, baby. So hard.”
I feel his endearment in my chest. My throat feels tight. I can see that what I’m doing to him is almost painfully pleasurable for him. I squeeze him gently, increasing my pace and tightening my grip.
“I … I’m not sure what you like,” I say. “I want to make you feel good.” I’ve never done this before and I’m unsur
e, but I can kind of tell that what I’m doing does feel good. Amazingly good.
“I like everything, honey,” he says, and his voice is husky with lust.
I lean forward and touch my nipple to the slippery tip of his cock. I slip his big bulk between my breasts, rubbing gently. He groans his oath so loudly I stop. I think maybe he’s getting close. I’m trying to imagine what might happen, how it will happen, and I remember I wanted to taste him as he comes. So I take him gently in my fists and I lick him.
He’s sort of panting now, and groaning, so I lick him again. I put my lips around the broad end and take him deeper, sucking on him like a popsicle.
“Sadie,” he’s moaning. “Fuck, Sadie.” Over and over. He’s praying.
I pump him gently as I suck harder.
And then it happens. His manhood starts to jerk. I taste him: a salty, milky liquid, jetting into my mouth – so much of it! I drink some but there’s too much. Some of it spills from my mouth in a sticky-sweet mess. It’s all over him. It’s all over my chin and my hands, dripping onto my breasts.
It’s the most decadent thing in the world. Me, naked, covered in his seed, drinking it, holding him as his frothy pleasure still seeps. A sticky bond. An intimacy from which we’ll never recover.
He pulls me up to him and I’m lying on top of him. He wipes my mouth gently with his thumb. His eyes are lust-drowsed and awestruck. “Sadie,” he whispers.
“You taste like heaven when you come,” I tell him. It’s true. He’s the most empowering thing that’s every happened to me.
Just like that, I’m addicted.
The girl is hot as fuck. She’s covered in my cum. It’s dripping down her chin and onto those unbelievably perfect breasts that are inches from my mouth. Her lips are pink and wet. She’s lying on top of me and she wants it so bad it’s making me crazy.
They all do.
But this is different. She doesn’t even know who I am.
I’m already hard again. All I can do is sort of gaze at her like an idiot. She’s got this insane, beachy-blond hair that’s soft as silk, like she’s a mermaid or something.
Hot Summer Lust Page 4