Just Like That

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Just Like That Page 6

by Nicola Rendell


  Her neck arches, and her pussy clamps down around my fingers. So I give her a third. She pauses with her hands inside my waistband, her fingers inches from my cock.

  “What do you want? Tell me, right now.”

  She stares hard at me, like she’s trying to call my bluff. Like she thinks it doesn’t matter what she wants, not really. But how fucking wrong she is. What she wants, that’s everything.

  Still though, she doesn’t answer. She gets to work on my buttons again, her small fingers undoing one after another until she’s got her hands on my bare chest.

  Time to be even clearer with her, so I pin her head back and get right up in her face. “I can fuck you all night, Penny. I can fuck you until you beg for mercy. Or I can go slow and be sweet.” I pull off her shorts, working them down her legs, and drop them on the kitchen floor.

  She runs her fingertips down my abs. “Can’t we do everything?”

  Goddamn it, yes. “Everything and more.” The way she is, the way she walks the line between sweet and dirty, makes me want to get inside her right now, on this kitchen counter. I want to fuck her until we break the toaster and knock over the blender. I want to take her reckless, I want to take her wild. But I also want it to be exactly fucking right, down to the last fucking detail, down to every last thrust and moan. I cannot fuck this woman like I need to on a kitchen counter.

  So I scoop her perfect ass in my palms, digging my fingers into her flesh. “Bedroom. Where is it?”

  She hangs on tight and leans back, like I’m dipping her in a tango. She kicks her legs a little, and her long hair brushes along my forearm. Her eyes twinkle up at me, and her thighs grip me tighter. “First door on the right.”

  * * *

  I kick the door shut behind us, just in case the dog gets any ideas, and let her slide down to standing. I pull her tank over her head and toss it aside, and let her take my shirt off finally. When I’m shirtless, I go to my knees at her feet. I look up the length of her body, kissing the creamy white triangle over her right hip, along her bikini line.

  She runs her hand up my bicep. “You are ridiculously sexy, Russ.”

  Jesus Christ, she doesn’t know the half of it. “You can’t see what I’m seeing. You’ve got me by miles and miles.”

  She drags her top lip into her mouth with her bottom teeth. Without even waiting for me to tell her, she reaches back behind her and unhooks her bra. She sends it flying like a Frisbee. Hell to the motherfucking yes.

  The bikini line is doing me all kinds of favors, because while her body is a golden tan, all the parts I want in my mouth are a pure, delicate white. Two triangles highlight her nipples, and the bow-shaped tan line between them is making me absolutely fucking insane.

  With my tongue, I move her panties aside and taste her. That taste, Christ. It’s salty, sweet, and all mixed up with her lotion or whatever it is. A smell and taste that is very distinctly hers and totally intoxicating. I open her up slightly, making a widening V with my fingers to push her lips aside. As soon as I put my tongue to her clit, her eyes close and she lets her head fall back, steadying herself on my shoulder. I warm her up with the widest part of my tongue, which lets me taste the wetness pouring from her too. Her hand moves to her left breast, and then her nipple. At first, she pinches herself lightly, but the more I work on her, the harder she pinches. She rocks back onto her heels, but I keep her steady, with one hand planted on her ass. I suck her clit into my mouth, getting to know every ripple and curve. As I tease the top edge, she pinches herself even harder, digging into herself with her nail.

  I let go of her pussy with a pop. “That’s so fucking hot,” I say, and go right back into her.

  Her eyes open up, like I shook her awake from a dream.

  I try it again, giving her more pressure, and the pinch starts all over.

  “That?” she asks, rolling her nipple up and then down.

  I nod into her pussy. That. Fucking magic, the way she responds like that. And so I play with her a bit, easing up and giving her more, sliding one finger along her slit, and then going inside her. Her moans get needier and ruder. Her grip on my shoulder tightens, and her nails dig into my skin, same as she’s digging into her own. Reaching up, I put my hand to her chest and push her, hard, back onto the bed. I’m not gentle about it. I don’t want to be gentle with this woman. I want to fucking dismantle her, until she’s at her most vulnerable.

  Fuck it, that’s not what I want. That’s what I need.

  The mattress squeaks as she crumples back on the bed. Her ass is just off the edge, and I part her legs, pressing my tongue into her opening. “Yessssss,” she hisses, hitching up her hips. I dig in deeper, letting the soft flesh of her pussy get to know the grit of my stubble. Sand against silk. Still with my tongue on her clit, I hook my fingers up into her to find her G-spot.

  It’s a first-try bullseye, and her body responds so powerfully that her hips pop.

  After I get a few more good tastes of her, feeling her wetness thicken, getting lost in that internal map of hers, the texture of the magic spot slightly rougher than everything else, I pull back and wipe my face on the delicate skin of her inner thigh. My stubble leaves a red streak. I put a kiss to the faint scratch, and she watches me do it. “I like your cheeks when you blush,” I tell her, “But I like this even better.” With my eyes locked on hers, I tease that soft skin into my mouth, adding a hickey to the bargain. Her toes curl, and she gasps up at the ceiling.

  But as much as I want to stay here on my knees and taste her all fucking night, what I really need is to get inside her, to make her know how I want her, to make her feel it. Maybe I’ve only known her a handful of hours, but shit like this is simple. Primal. Basic. I come up to standing, kicking off my shoes and pulling off my socks. I don’t believe in much, but I do believe that guys who fuck with their socks on should be taken out back and punched in the face. She comes up on her elbows and then rolls up to sitting. Greedy and fast, she pulls down my pants, and my cock springs free.

  As it does, her mouth drops open. “Oh, fuck.”

  I run my thumb over her lips, the sharp edge of her jaw perched on my fingertip. “I told you I’d teach you to take it, beautiful. Don’t you fucking worry about that.” I place my hands on her hips and position her more fully onto the bed. I get on top of her, knees on either side of her body, my cock resting on the milk-white skin above her pussy.

  One shift of my hips, and I’d be inside her. I’m that close to knowing her from the inside out; I’m that close to losing all my fucking reason. “I’m not going to lie to you, Penny. I need inside you just like this,” I pump my cock, the head right at her opening. “No condom.”

  She tenses up. “Seriously?”

  I let her feel my hardness against her thigh. “That feel serious enough for you?”

  I can almost hear the wheels spinning in her head. All the good-girl logic, all the common sense, all the rules.

  “But I don’t want to push you.” Not unless you want me to.

  She’s smart and sensible, I know that. I mean, she ties a goddamned pom-pom to her suitcase. I’m sure she’s not someone who throws caution to the fucking wind very often. Unless I can convince her it’s what needs to happen.

  “Are you clean?” she asks.

  “You think I’d hurt your body? You think I’d put you in danger like that?”

  She swallows hard and plants her hands on the mattress. “You hardly know me.”

  “I know enough. I’d never hurt you, never.”

  It takes everything I’ve got to stay where I am, inches from pressing into her, from ravaging her exactly like this. “You’re just lucky I’ve got enough self-control to stop myself.” I grip my cock to show her I’m ready to go if she says the word. I nudge the gap between the lips of her pussy and the soft skin of her inner thigh with my hard-on. Ready and fucking waiting.

  But I don’t want to scare her. I don’t want to be an asshole, so I ease up. “We’ll wait until you’re ready.
You can trust me, but I don’t expect you to believe that.”

  “Should I? Trust you?”

  “The way I want to fuck you?” I shake my head at her. “I think that’s up for debate.”

  She moans again, a close-lipped gasp, and watches me work my cock. I press the head into her tan line, letting my balls brush up against her lips.

  I can take a hint, and that’s totally good. “Condom, right now.” I glance over at her bedside table. Two alarm clocks, a stack of books, and a basket of ear plugs. No discreet box where they might be. I open up the top drawer, but there’s none there and no toys either. Makes me wonder where she’s got her vibrators—it makes me wonder if she has any at all. “If you don’t have any toys in this house, we better do something about that.”

  She giggles a little, but her laugh is stopped short by a nervous swallow.

  I look back at her glistening eyes. She hesitates, and her tongue peeks out between her lips. But then finally, she says, “Oh, to hell with it. Get inside me. Just like you are.”

  The words send a bolt down my cock, right through my balls. “Fuck, yeah. You’re sure?”

  She nods slowly, almost tentatively. But then her legs link back together around me, pulling me into her. “I’m sure.”

  “You better be 100 percent, Penny. Once I start, I’m not stopping.”

  This time, she’s the one to kiss me. It’s not sweet. It’s rude, and needy. She breaks the kiss to tell me, “150 percent.”

  Fuck. Me.

  Using her wetness to lube up, I lean down into her, taking her nipple between my teeth. One of her hands joins mine on my cock, her cool fingers teasing my balls.

  Enough foreplay. Time to do this thing for real. “You ready?”

  For a second, she looks almost scared. But then what does she do? Repositions the fucking pillow behind her head, and reaches up behind her to hang onto the headboard. “Go slow.”

  “I won’t hurt you until you tell me I can.”

  She gasps into her arm. “Where did you learn to talk like that?”

  “Not learned. It’s part of the package.”

  “I like the package,” she says, as I position myself at her opening.

  “You don’t know the package.”

  She pouts and watches me. “Not yet.”

  I grip the base of my cock hard and push into her, a half-inch at a time, checking for any sign that I’m hurting her. She shifts her hips slightly, and before I’m even a quarter of the way in, she paws for my hand. I grip it hard, to show her I really do have her. All the fucking way.

  “You okay?”

  “Yes,” she says, watching me press into her like she’s mesmerized, so beautifully innocent. “Keep going.”

  Every inch I give her makes me feel even greedier for her. She’s not just tight but ball-busting; she’s not just hot, but on fucking fire. As I get halfway in, I position her knees at my shoulders. Her back arches, and she grips the sheet in one fist. “Shiiiiiit.” I press my mouth to her calf and let my eyes close, for one single second. “You feel so fucking amazing.”

  She doesn’t answer, but squeezes my hand tighter, and I watch her get lost in a lip-biting roll of pleasure.

  “Oh, God,” she says, as my balls brush against her ass. “How can anything feel this good?”

  I go slowly at first, because I don’t want to hurt her. She feels so fucking good that I want to punish her for it, almost, but I don’t. Because I want to make her squirm, yeah. I want to make her beg, yeah. But I want her to get used to me first. I want her to need my cock inside her, and to miss it when it’s gone.

  10

  Penny

  As he drives into me, I start to lose myself to him…from the inside out. At first, I don’t believe it’s happening. I don’t believe it’s even possible. I see a long-forgotten Cosmo article that I once saw a woman reading at the gym. The image of it filters up through my consciousness like an image from an overhead projector. The headline was, “Stop Trying to Make Vaginal Orgasms Happen; They’re Not Going to Happen.” I remember reading that, thinking, Of course they don’t happen. Silly ladies. Real life isn’t like porn, and went back to my low-impact elliptical and my Barefoot Contessa.

  But right now, something is happening. Something is definitely happening. Inside me.

  “Russ,” I say, growling it into his ear. “What are you doing to me?”

  He raises himself up into a pushup over me. He looks understandably smug. But instantly, the magical sensation declines. It still feels good—it still feels amazing—but it doesn’t quite feel like I’m in a room full of strobe lights anymore. So I yank him back down on top of me, keeping my face turned to him, which lets me watch him grin into the pillow.

  “I like your style, you know that?” He sounds gruff and hoarse. “You know what you want and you take it.”

  “You told me to be explicit.” I squeeze his buns. “But I agree with Elvis. A little less conversation…”

  He drives into me hard. “And a little more action.”

  Yes. Oh, yes.

  But the thing is, I haven’t told him what I want, because I don’t know. My sex life, until now, has been more like a votive candle than the fireworks store where Russ is taking me. What I know is pretty simple: All my orgasms belong either to my fingers or my Hitachi. But I also know something else: I’ve never in my life been with a man like this.

  There’s no negotiation, no ridiculous games, no preening, tentative questions, like, Is that too hard?

  It’s never too hard, never.

  Or, Is that the right spot?

  If you’re asking, honey, the answer is a great big no.

  He asks no questions, except for when he checks on me. He takes me with no nonsense at all. Total, encompassing self-confidence and touchable masculinity. He knows what he’s doing, he knows how to do it, and he goes for it. Like a falcon going in for the kill.

  I’ll be this guy’s mouse any old day.

  “Keep doing…Exactly like…”

  “That’s right. Give me your half-sentences.” He laughs this cocky laugh that makes me tingle all over. “You’re mine already. Just roll with it.”

  On and on he goes, until I can’t see straight, until every thrust makes my whole body pulse. I grip his magnificent ass with my hands and keep him close, and then…it starts…to happen.

  He isn’t even touching my clit. Not with his fingers, not with his mouth, and neither am I. I grip his face, bring his forehead down until it presses against mine. “Holy shit.”

  “I told you to hang on tight.”

  “Russ.”

  “Penny.”

  “Russsssss.”

  He smiles, and that stubble scratches me again. “That’s the only word you need.”

  Russ. Russsss. Russsssssssss. Over and over again, his pelvis grinds against mine as he fucks me harder, and deeper, and with more confidence than any man ever has. The world starts to shiver, and my body begins to shake. I tighten my grip on his hips with my thighs.

  Every single damned thing I’ve ever known about sex, about coming, about myself in bed goes flying right out the window, zipping through the gaps in the air conditioning intake vents. Whoosh.

  “You’re going to make me come…” I press my head back hard into the pillows, and he goes at me again and again.

  “That’s the idea.” He pounds into me once more. “Give me what I want, and give it to me now.”

  “What do you want?”

  “You, shattering into a million fucking pieces because of what I’m doing to you.”

  That is what is happening. Word-for-word. Right here and right now. I feel like I’m being pushed backward into a pool, with all my clothes on. I’m not ready for this. I have never been ready for this.

  His expression softens, gentler and less ruthless. “You okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “So let go.”

  “I don’t know how.”

  “Let me take what’s mine, Penny. Give
it to me.”

  The emotions are sudden and intense. I've always had sole, exclusive power over my own orgasms. I could make them happen, but nobody else. I had the map to the treasure, and no man ever learned the way.

  Until now.

  “Come for me.”

  “Russ…” I say it like I’m warning him, without even really meaning to. As my body starts to dissolve for him, so does my heart. He’s doing this to me. It’s him. Not me. Whatever happens next is his.

  But he just smiles. “Trust me. I've got you.” He drives into me again, and I feel the waves start to spiral out from my clit.

  As he unleashes even more, I cling to him like I’m drowning. I hang onto him for dear life. And then I press my forehead into his shoulder and just…

  Let go.

  I’m deep in the pleasure blackout, but he keeps me close, talking to me the whole way through. “Keep going. Don’t stop.”

  Cosmo, you sweet bitches. You were so wrong. You never met a man like this one.

  You’ve never had sex like this.

  11

  Russ

  It’s a good, hard, primal fuck, but her orgasm is transcendent. I stay right with her all the way through her epic explosion and back again. She’s ferociously strong, and her contractions try to push me out, but I don’t let that happen. With every drive, I make sure to hit her pelvis with mine, grinding my hips into hers, making sure every single thrust also compresses her clit. She doesn’t just come with her pussy or with her screams; she comes with her whole fucking body, lost in a different world.

  I try to stave off my orgasm with boring, menial shit. My W2 form. The job waiting for me when I get back to Boston. Whether or not I paid my car insurance. None of it works, not one fucking bit, because she’s a fog, and I’m lost in her. My thoughts get eclipsed by the warmth of her skin, the coolness of her hair, the way Russ turns into yes, which turns into thank you.

 

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