A problem I plan on solving right now.
I’m driving into my driveway. I slam the door of my car and walk to the house in ground-eating strides.
I go inside and I know she’s here.
I can feel her.
I can smell her. I don’t even think she wears perfume, but she’s in the air. That fresh, sunny whisper.
She’s not in the kitchen.
I go upstairs and I can hear the shower running.
She’s taking a shower.
I go into the bathroom.
And open the glass door.
I kick off my shoes and walk into the shower. I don’t care that I still have all my clothes on. Because she’s there and she’s simply the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Wet and golden and mind-blowing. I sort of fall to my knees and hug my arms around her and rest my head against her thighs. I don’t remember ever feeling this relieved or this happy.
There’s something about being with her that’s just so damn comforting I can hardly stand it.
This lust is clawing into me, digging deeper than I can ever remember anything digging. I don’t want it to be doing that, but it is.
Her hands are on my head, her fingers gently weaving into my hair.
“Elias,” she says softly and I look up at her. “You’re here.”
Her face is perfect. A sprinkling of golden freckles. Pale pink lips. Her long, shimmery hair hangs almost to her hips in dripping coils. Tiny rivers cascade from her breasts like she’s some sort of fucking nymph.
All I can do is sort of stare up at her like a besotted wretch.
“I missed you,” she whispers.
And there, so close to my mouth, is her pink, candied pussy. She’s not just wet from the shower. She’s glistening and ready. For me.
Someone help me.
I have to do it: I kiss her pussy and just about swoon with my desire for her. She’s as sweet as nectar. My cock is a hot, rigid inferno. This has gone beyond pain into something else altogether. Need. Passion. Obsession.
Gently, slowly, yet with all the greedy hunger of a starving man, I eat into her until she’s moaning. She’s got fistfuls of my hair and I love this. I’m hers. I want to be hers. All hers.
I lick lower, deeper, but I can’t get as deep as I want. She’s standing, so I turn her around. “Lean over,” I growl and she obeys, putting her hands on the tiles and widening her stance to give me what I want. She’s offering herself to me in a way that’s driving me fucking more feverish than I already was. She leans forward and arches her back for me and I thrust my tongue into her pussy as I squeeze lightly on her clit, pulling gently, working her pleasure. I lick her everywhere. My tongue touches the cove of her ass and she squirms but I hold her there, licking in time to the play of my fingers. She comes for me, crying out my name. I can feel the rippling compressions of her body, the soft, fluttering rhythm. When the waves calm, I turn her to me.
The look in her eyes kills me. It’s not manic adulation, like I’m used to. It’s a quiet, vast tenderness, a beauty that’s the most addictive, dazzling glimmer I’ve ever known.
“You’re so bad,” she smiles. She’s pulling my soaked shirt off.
“And you’re so good.”
“Will you let me wash you, Elias?”
I let her pull my shirt over my head. “I’ll let you do anything you want to me, darlin’.”
“Stand up,” she says. “Take off your jeans.”
I do it. She sort of gasps when she sees me. How hard I am. How fucking engorged and painful my life is right about now. She takes the soap and runs it across my chest, working up the suds. She washes my shoulders, my arms. I just stand there and let her.
She’s washing my stomach.
I’m so close to breaking point I feel like I need to warn her. “Sadie, baby. I’m probably gonna come about twelve times in the next hour or two, just seeing you like this. You have some crazy effect on me, sweetheart. I’m not usually so ready to fire away but I’m in agony over here and I’m not gonna be able to hold on to this badboy.”
Control and stamina have never been a problem for me before. This is different. I’m about to come. As soon as she touches me, it’ll be all over.
She’s smiling lightly. Her hands are little slippery miracles. “I want you to come. Over and over. I love touching you. I want to make you feel good.”
“You are, sweetheart. You are.”
Her hands are on my thighs now. She’s playing me. Avoiding the bullseye, making it last.
Oh, God, have mercy on me.
She cups me in her slippery grip. She’s exploring me, as though she’s spellbound.
Then, her hands ease over my cock. She slides her soapy fists up and down the length of me. It’s a fucking agony-ecstasy so extreme all I can do is watch her. The ecstasy is gathering, deep and low. I feel alight with it. Like I’m not just about to come but also about to combust.
“Is this all right?” she asks shyly.
I can only groan an answer, and she increases her pace and the force of her grip until I can’t handle it. A wrecking ball of pleasure erupts within me and I’m spurting hot cum all over her hands and her stomach in thick jolts. It just goes on and on. I have to close my eyes tight and grit my teeth just to deal with it. I have never come so hard in my life.
She’s still rubbing me gently and I almost tell her to stop. It’s too intense. But I don’t. Her hands are infinitely careful, unbelievably soft. I can just cope with these delicate caresses, which prolong the orgasm even longer. I’m spent but my cock is still pulsing, still trickling and spasming with the last of my release.
It takes me a few seconds to recover.
Her hands are still on me, smoothing the water across my body to wash off the soap and the cum.
I take her hand and turn off the shower. I grab a towel and dry her hair. I have this strange desire to do it carefully, gently. I dry her neck, her breasts. I use my thumbs and my fingers to play her soft nipples until they begin to bead. Fuck me, she’s gorgeous. I dry her stomach, her legs. Very gently, her soft-swollen pussy. By this time I’m already on the rise again and now she’s drying me.
“There’s something I want to tell you, Elias.”
She sounds serious and I sort of stare at her, wary. What the fuck? She has a boyfriend. She’s married with a couple of kids. She’s a Russian spy. Her tits are fake. She’s emigrating to Australia tomorrow and never coming back. Since none of those scenarios seem at all likely except maybe the first one, which I could deal with by beating him to a pulp and meanwhile showering her with every affection and expensive gift known to mankind. Or maybe not beating him to a pulp; I don’t want to piss her off, or end up in jail. I’ll think of something, though. I’m up for the challenge. I’m so fucking up for it she won’t know what hit her. She’ll never be able to refuse me or resist me.
“I’m on the pill,” she says.
She’s on the pill? That’s good news. Or is it? Why is she on the pill? Has she banged every redneck between here and Nashville? Did I misread her? I was so sure she was a virgin. I’m never wrong about shit like that. And, I realize, the thing is: I so badly wanted her to be a virgin. I feel like fucking crying. Or having a goddamn tantrum. I wanted her, now and forever, all to myself.
What the fuck?
My sanity is in serious question around this chick.
I need to calm the fuck down.
“Okay,” I say, and I do sound calm. A lot calmer than I feel. Then I blurt it out before I can stop myself. “Why?”
She laughs a little. “’Why?’ Why do you think? So I won’t get knocked up before I’m ready. It happened to two of my sisters and there’s no way I’m letting that happen to me. I’ve got plans. I’ve got things to do and the last thing I want is to get stuck here, like they are. I’d go crazy if I couldn’t go to Nashville and sing. I’m not willing to let anything or anyone get in the way of that. I just have this feeli
ng it’ll work out for me. You know what I mean? You ever get that feeling about anything?”
“Yeah.” I did. I knew that feeling once. I was sure, too, when I’d started out. I was sure I could make it with my talent and my drive and there was nothing on this planet that could’ve stopped me. I don’t tell her this. She still doesn’t know who I am and I’m not quite ready to lay it all out yet. Instead I say, “Are you in danger of getting knocked up? You getting some wild action around town?”
She looks up at me, her sky-blue eyes flicked with a hint of mischief. “Well … I haven’t been in danger of it before … ‘til now.”
I can’t help myself. “Ever?”
“Nope. Not ever. Not even once.”
I’m so relieved I feel almost light-headed. We’re still standing here, butt naked, and she’s holding the towel, drying little drops from my chest. And lower. My erection has fully revived and is so hard – once again – by this point it’s standing straight up and touching my stomach like it wants her attention. It does. So she has to hold it and pull it away from my body to finish drying me. She runs her fingers along my length and I sigh a little: a low exhale that sounds like an animal’s growl. She removes her touch and hangs up the towel on one of the racks. I notice then that the bathroom – and everything else – looks all tidy and clean. She’s cleaned it. This barely registers. I’ve got all kinds of questions I need answered before I can register anything at all besides Sadie, her virginity and its impending demise. By me. It’s mine. She’s mine. I feel the caveman in me rise up again. I didn’t even know I had a fucking caveman lurking around in my goddamn psyche before Sadie entered the picture. Now he seems to want his point of view heard.
“Why not?” I blurt out. “I mean, how the hell have you not been chased relentlessly by every man within a hundred mile radius?”
She smiles. She’s got the tiniest gap between her front teeth that makes me want to kiss her again, to lick her mouth, to trace along the line of it with my tongue. “I just graduated from a boarding school that was pretty strict. I didn’t meet a lot of guys. Not any, actually. I’m not even sure men were allowed in the building, come to think of it. No t.v. No Internet except for approved websites.” She shrugs a little. “So I’m totally uneducated about what the latest pop culture trends are, or t.v. shows, or the latest movies. But now that I’m free, I plan on fixing all that up as soon as I can. That’s another reason I’m going to Nashville. To live my life. To get started.”
She’s got this defiant little gleam in her eye, like she’s already visualizing all the living she’s got planned once she gets there. My chest tightens. I want to be there, it occurs to me. I want to be with her as she’s doing it all. Watching movies and discovering music videos and new artists (we’ll get to that one soon enough) and meeting people and eating in restaurants and traveling the world. I want to be the one to show her, and guard her from all the men that will want to charm her and use her and keep her for themselves.
Well, they can’t have her.
She’s mine.
“What about you, Elias? You must be planning on settling down out here, buying this house and all. Where did you move from?”
I’m not going to lie to her, I’ve decided. Ever. But it’s true I’m enjoying her total ignorance about the whole fame thing. It’s refreshing. “I … also have a house in Nashville. I live there when I’m not hanging out here.”
She contemplates me, but there’s nothing: none of that grasping I-want-what-you-have neediness that colors it. “Cool,” she says. “Maybe we’ll see each other.”
I’m tempted to do it right now. To tell her she can stay there, at my penthouse apartment in the city, to bunk with me and we’ll take it from there. But that would be creepy, practically. Yeah, we’re naked, we’ve gotten each other off a couple times and we’re working up to what promises to be one hell of a fuck, but it’s too soon to be asking her to move in with me, for Christsakes. For all I know she could morph into a psycho bitch when she’s not being an insanely innocent, ridiculously hot, mind-blowingly gorgeous sweetheart who sings like a songbird that’s still learning how to fly.
“Elias?” She’s turned shy again and I can’t have that. I want her laughing, and playful.
“Yeah? Ask me anything. Anything you want.” I scoop her up and she’s squeals a little laugh that makes me harder even than I was before. She’s so small compared to me. I could dominate her so easily, physically. Problem is, in every other way she’s got the upper hand. Once I’ve fucked her, I’ll be fine. I’ll get over this little blond obsession, I tell myself, but I’m not convinced. I carry her over to the bed and set her down. I sit next to her. My hard-on is jutting out like an elephant in the room but the fact is we’ve been naked together practically more than we’ve been clothed together. We can handle it.
“I want you,” she whispers. Then she sort of crawls closer to me, leaning lightly against me with her thigh touching me and her breasts like two scoops of pale perfection. Her fingers do this little walking motion, very slowly, up my leg. She runs a single finger over the slit of my cock, swirling my pre-cum over the crown.
Jesus Christ.
“I want you too, baby.” My voice has gone all low and lusty.
She’s kissing my lips in small, nipping tastes. “I feel safe with you. I don’t want you to think of it as anything more, though, okay?” she says. “I’m not expecting anything from you. We’re having some fun, but we’re not getting serious or anything. I just want you to be my first.”
Everything about this girl is new to me. She wants me to fuck her, divest her of her virginity, then watch her walk away. A hot virgin on the pill with no strings attached. Anyone would think it was heaven on earth but there’s a little cloister of unease to the offer. I don’t want to just fuck her then let her walk away. My caveman is getting all possessive. This is not a good thing.
“Have you done this … many times before?” It’s curiosity in her tone, not jealousy, and here’s a first: I wish it was.
“Yeah, a few.” I don’t bother telling her I’ve never done it without a condom. Sure, women try to coerce me all the time, telling me they’ve got things covered. But I’ve never trusted it. Now, the thought of sliding into her with no barrier between us makes me feel like holding her down and fucking her hard right now. “But never, ever with someone as beautiful as you.” I wish I hadn’t said that. I sound like a dickhead. It’s true I’ve said this before, to other women.
This time, though, I actually mean it. I mean it so much I wish I could make her understand how much.
“I shouldn’t really be doing this.” Those feathering fingertips, touching my jaw. “But I just want to, because it’s you.”
“I want you too, sweetheart.”
“And I know … well, we don’t know each other very well, and who knows what will happen down the road … but …” She hesitates, and I take her hand.
“Ask me. Anything you want.”
“You don’t have a girlfriend? I guess I probably should’ve asked you that … before we went swimming.”
“No girlfriend.” It’s true. I have plenty of one night stands. Two-night stands are about as committed I get these days. I just haven’t been interested in anything long-term so far.
Until right now.
“Then … well, while we’re together, if there’s any more to this than tonight, maybe we could … you know, if we’re gonna be hanging out at all …”
Her shyness on the topic is something I need her to get over. Because shyness is not something I can tolerate from her right now. I want all of her. I want her to lay out her feelings and thoughts and concerns and, most of all, her desires. The first three are entirely new territory for me, but with Sadie, things are different. I’ll do or say absolutely anything to reassure her. And as I’m saying the words, I find I mean them. I mean them so much it hurts. “I’m yours, angel. Only yours. And you’re mine. You’re all I can think a
bout. Just you. You’re exactly what I want, sweet Sadie. Everything I want. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I need to get close to you. I want to stay close to you. All the time. I just want to be with you.”
Her cool fist is gripping me softly. Her other hand cups me. She’s rising onto her knees like she’s going to ease herself onto my lap. I can see her pink, wet pussy as she moves. And if I don’t take control of this situation immediately I’m going to lose my cool yet again.
God help me.
What I need to do is focus on her pleasure, and make love to her so thoroughly and so sweetly, she’ll never want to let me go.
Elias lays me back onto the bed. He’s incredibly strong. It takes barely any effort at all for him to gently place me against the pillows. He crouches over me and kisses me. I try to reach for him but he takes my wrists and pins my hands above my head. He holds both my hands in one of his. His grip is so absolute and the crouching cage of his body so heavy I know I could never escape him. I’m at his mercy and this excites me beyond belief. I want him to overwhelm me in every possible way.
“Do you want me, Sadie?” he says, his voice a husked growl. His lust has thickened his accent, like it does when he’s this hard, when he wants me this much.
“Yes,” I breathe.
“Then you’re gonna let me do whatever I want, exactly the way I want it.”
He doesn’t ask, but I say it anyway, whispering. “Anything.”
“I want to make this perfect for you, but I get to be in control. You’re gonna do what I tell you to do. All right?”
He’s staring down into my eyes and I nod a little. So he’s even bossier in bed. I like it. I’m pretty sure I can handle him, bossy or not. I think I could actually undermine that bossiness if I really wanted to.
“I don’t want to hurt you but this will hurt some, since it’s your first time, so I’m gonna get you nice and ready for me. So ready, you won’t notice anything but how good it feels.”
I already knew it was supposed to hurt the first time – Frannie told me – but I’m not scared. Not with Elias. I know how my body reacts to him. I’d already come for him in the shower and my pussy feels like a warm, blooming flower. “Kiss me,” I whisper.
Hot Summer Lust Page 7