"Do you see me laughing?" I rearranged myself so my hips could settle on hers, which I did slowly, growling when my cock finally made contact. Damn, this felt like pure sin, pressing myself against her.
I gave an experimental nudge.
Now. Now she'd know what I'd never let her know.
"Oh, oh, God."
"Feel that?" I whispered. "That's me seeing you. That's me smelling you. That's me when I think about peeling down your jeans and finally answering my question, curly or straight."
Now her head was moving back and forth as in denial, but her lips were swollen, her eyes linked to mine, and she responded like my words were making love to her.
"I've kissed your mouth a few times now. Guess what I've learned. Go on, try to guess, Sloane. Betcha can't."
Her answer might have been a real answer or a whimper, I wasn't sure.
"I've learned your mouth might be able to fit around my cock, if you open wide. You probably don't realize this, but it's something we dudes think about. A lot."
Door two. A whimper.
"What about you, ever imagined that? Ever imagined me naked?"
She shuddered. And went on shuddering. I'd hit the nail on the head, I realized with delight.
"Ever imagined me over you naked, my cock all up inside you, both of us sweating and panting and you tightening around me in your dozenth orgasm because you can't stop coming when you're being fucked?"
"Stop it, Asher!"
Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to sit back and take stock of her. She was twitching all over, her hands trying to decimate her coat, her head flinging around, her expression anguished and her eyes squeezed shut.
And because the only woman I'd had for the last few years was Aura, I couldn't help but compare them. Aura had had no inhibitions in bed. She'd done everything I'd ever asked. I'd lost myself in her soft, responsive body. The sex had been epic.
Charis was, in contrast, a minefield of inhibitions. I didn't know her sexual history, but I was sure my girl was a neophyte, or near as. She might very well fight me, and her own body, every step of the way.
But it would be worth it. She was beyond hot. Dizzyingly responsive.
I knew it for sure when I began pulling up her shirt and she whined as though I'd licked her in a naughty place. I'd barely done anything to her and already she was more slut than sweetheart. If I hadn't been crazy about Charis Sloane before, I'd have completely flipped now. Fucking her was going to rock my world. And it was going to happen. I now had zero doubt of it.
My heart felt like it was bursting with happiness.
When I spoke next, I tried to sound breezy, but I could hear the tremor there. "Let's see what you got for me up on top, Sloane."
I slid the green camisole up along her skin. She didn't help, but at least she didn't stop me. She wasn't moving at all. I wasn't even sure she was breathing.
When the fabric rose above her nipples, I froze for a split second, then finished exposing her tits with shaking hands.
"Holy shit." I didn't even know I'd whispered it until her "What?" registered.
I had a hard time speaking. The problem was simple; my cock was trying to bruise itself in my jeans.
Charis's nipples were big, a deep, dusky red. Extra long, with puffy areolas. And did I mention red? I was going to come in my pants.
"What? Asher, what's going on?"
I managed to grit out, "Give me a minute, will you? And open your eyes."
She did, her gaze latching immediately onto my face. Unless she was blind, she had to see my reaction to her.
"Don't you ever," I said between breaths, "make fun of your tits again. They are the most pornographic fucking things I've ever seen and I will now officially be jacking off to them from now on."
"Asher," she whispered, and pressed her lips together.
I wanted to kiss those lips back open, but if my steely cock even brushed against her, I'd explode. I shoved my tongue into my cheek and raised my head to stare at the ceiling. "Don't say it."
"Say what?"
"Anything."
"Why?"
"Because I'm trying not to fucking embarrass myself!"
When I next glanced down, to, you know, confirm my first impression, what I saw stole my breath. Charis with her legs pressed together and her shirt rolled up above the most shameless little breasts imaginable.
It hadn't been a mirage. My friend, my adorable, skinny friend, really was smut on a stick. I swallowed. My hands moved to her fly. I lowered the zipper, giving her enough time to stop me. Her hands remained at her sides, clutching her coat.
I knew she was looking at me, but I deliberately focused on what I was doing. I wanted her to see the effect she had on me.
Hooking my fingers into the waistband, I slowly dragged down the jeans, taking the panties along for the ride.
The moment her pussy started coming into view, I closed my eyes. I waited until the jeans were around her knees before I opened them again.
Oh, sweetness.
Her thighs were pressed together, which was to say, they barely touched. So I could see not just her patch—curly and lighter than the hair on her head—but the teasing beginnings of her plump lower lips.
They were glistening with moisture.
Remember those stages of manhood? Remember Stage One?
Yeah, well, my cock took one look at Charis's dainty, wet pussy and said, There. Get me there. Directly without delay. Or I'll get there myself.
I ran my hand through my hair. I'd planned to tease her, to woo her, to coax her. To use my magic fingers. Not to answer the call of my cock.
I gave it a strict, succinct lecture. You will fucking keep yourself contained, you feral bastard.
I made myself scan the rest of her. Her hips were slim, frankly not my ideal—I loved broad hips and soft thighs—but they were all woman, not boyish at all. And her waist dipped in impossibly. Her belly was tight, her navel an innie asking to be licked. Her thighs were more muscular than I expected. She was like a lean pony, though I didn't think she'd appreciate the comparison.
And that pussy crying ravage me, plunder me…
More than all that, though. She was Charis, naked for me. My dream vision come to life.
I wanted to pull off her clothes completely and inspect every inch of her. But I sensed it would make her even more nervous.
I clenched my jaw. "You're…not a twelve-year-old boy. Got it?"
"Okay. I believe you."
"Do you? That's good."
I shrugged out of my coat and tossed it to the floor. "That must mean you're ready for me to check you out down below."
Her response to my lewdness? Her thighs crossed.
"Go ahead." The words were pure bravado, of course.
"You have to stop squeezing your legs together, dude."
Her legs straightened like she'd been shot. I managed not to grin, as amusing as it was to call her dude when my balls were cramping with lust for her.
I slid my hand up her thigh—and that incredible skin—and let one finger brush the soft curls. Just for a second.
Then it was literally impossible not to probe her. Because soaking fucking wet.
Her hot, slippery softness pulled a groan from my throat. She made a keening sound and started trying to scramble away.
"Don't you dare chicken out on me now, with a wet pussy like that," I growled.
"Oh, shit. You've made your point, Norrell!"
"I haven't even begun to make it."
She braced herself. "All right! Just do it already."
"Right." What a sweet challenge. I planted my ass solidly on her thighs so she wouldn't be tempted to move away. Then and only then did I let my finger find her again. It sank into her closed folds, burrowing in and going right for her clit.
"Well, well, well, well, well," I managed to tease her, proud of my saintly control. Because holy fuck, that clit was engorged and frantic for some attentive attention.
Luckily she
had me here to help her out. A little batting and thrumming, a few circling rubs, and my sweet girl was making choking sounds.
"What was that?"
"I said—okay, you win. I—I'm a g—girl."
"I haven't won yet," I said, giddy with the thrill. "But I'm getting there."
CHAPTER 19
One Year Ago—An Innocent Suggestion
Asher: For somebody who never works out, you have a lot of restless energy.
Charis: Why do you say that?
Asher: Because you've been pacing around this room for an hour.
Charis: I'm thinking through an argument. And I do too work out.
Asher: What do you do?
Charis: FYI, I do situps and pushups and jumping jacks and squats and also dance sometimes.
Asher: Oh, like your mom.
Charis: Nuh-uh. She's crazy intense. I don't have any discipline. I just do whatever I feel like.
Asher: I'd like to see that.
Charis: I've started zumba, you can come to the class.
Asher: No way on earth. Why don't you show me?
Charis: Show you what?
Asher: Some of your dance moves.
Charis: Here? In front of you? Not on your life, buster.
Asher
MY BRAIN TRIED TO WRAP around the fact that I was sitting on Charis Sloane, my forefinger in her pussy, playing with her soft little clit. I looked into her eyes. She looked back at me with a stony expression.
She was trying to hide what she was feeling.
Good luck with that.
My finger was moving lazily now. The state she was in, I could bring her to climax in less than a minute if I went for it, but I wasn't here for an ASAP (Joel's pet term for a fuck you wanted to end as quickly as possible).
"I'm going to make you come now," I told her confidently. "When was the last time you had an orgasm?"
Her eyes said, no fucking way, and you didn't just ask me that.
Challenge accepted.
"I already know your favorite most perfect pet is a beagle and your favorite food is the kung pau shrimp at Palouse Garden China." I pointed out. "I know you can't stand the texture of satin and you belch like a sailor if you eat cabbage."
"What is your point?" she groaned.
"My point is, I know you intimately. If you think I'm not going to know this about you, too, you're out of your mind. Come on, when did you last get some action? How long has it been? What? Say again."
"Recently."
"Recently? Like when?"
"Oh for Pete's sake!"
"How about if I go first." I grinned at her. "So yeah, Sloane, I knocked it around last night in the shower, thinking about you and your mouth. Right before I came, in my head was this picture of your lips and that little pink tongue, wrapped around my cock. It was fun imagining that. Now you."
This was all new to her, I was pretty sure, this dirty talk as foreplay. She'd responded to it earlier. And now? Now her hips began jerking upward wildly.
I watched her moving against my hand, felt the slippery, soft heat, and gritted out, "When, babe?"
"A few days ago! I broke my vibrator! I ran the batteries down! And I can't believe I just told you that!"
"Girls who tell me dirty things get rewarded." I shoved my finger farther along and sank it deep into her pussy.
Tight. Narrow. Burning. That was some powerful clenching she had going there. Nice pussy, very nice.
So I rate pussies. Is it that much of a surprise?
Charis cried out as though shocked at the pleasure my finger gave her. While she squirmed around with her trapped legs, I frisked her hard and fast with my thumb. I know, it sounds coldly scientific. But this was my thing, what I did. I did it well.
And because I was watching her face closely, I caught her astonishment at what happened then.
"Do it, Char, it's all right, I know it feels so fucking good, my finger in you, you come for me, girl." And yes, it was happening, Charis coming all over my finger. With absolutely no inhibitions. She was moaning and she was writhing and she was incredible, riding my hand while I struggled to get my fly unzipped.
Then somehow I was springing free, my cock and balls hurting to penetrate, my shaft going straight for her. If her legs hadn't been closed up by those jeans around her knees, I'd have been inside her in seconds. That's how much discipline I had right now.
As it was I thrust against her softness, saying her name. I couldn't slide completely in, but I got damn close, coated myself with her wetness, and fuck it was nearly enough. Over and over. I could easily lose myself this way.
Not the plan.
Oh, right.
That open mouth gave me a needed diversion. I swooped down and took it, invading with my tongue. Her tongue came for mine and grappled. This was even better than before, with kissback.
Then I felt it—her hand on the denim over my ass. She was gripping me in her excitement. Charis was kissing me and feeling up my ass.
I raised my head and took an unsteady breath. "You like coming like this, Sloane? You want another finger up in there, in that pretty little, hot little pussy you got for me?"
"Yikes, what, oh, oh, crap, whatareyoudoingtome?" she wailed.
"Getting you off good, isn't it obvious? Tell me, talk to me. Say dirty things to me, sweetness."
"What do you want—me to say?"
"I want you to ask for more. Tell Mr. Norrell what you need."
"Yes, yes. More, Ash."
"You want another finger? Tell me where you want it. Be explicit." I rubbed it across her entrance.
"In me! My pussy!"
Yes. Hearing Charis say my pussy made me almost maniacal. I didn't know who was more frenzied, she or I, as I wedged another big finger inside her slickness. Her walls stretched to take it, bit by bit.
Then I was back to kissing her.
Oh, shit. Her mouth was heaven. I was in heaven. This was my idea of fucking nirvana. Charis demanding I pleasure her, giving me her body, needing my touch.
Just as my tongue curled with hers, I twisted those two fingers and a micro-instant later, my mouth began to vibrate with her scream.
Here's the thing I just then learned: making the woman who happens to be your best friend in the universe scream with pleasure is a truly mind-blowing experience.
When pussy muscles began clamping on my fingers in a strong-as-fuck orgasm, I almost hollered myself. Char had barriers that could keep out a charging elephant, yet here she was, letting me into her private place—and I don't mean just her pussy.
We'd talked about some deep shit, but never been this level of intimate. The fact that she'd let me tease her and fucking masturbate her to not just one, but this second wild-ass orgasm—that was intimacy.
I wanted to cry like a baby. I wanted to keep her coming forever.
"You are so fucking gorgeous when you do that," I ground out against her mouth, and pulled away enough to let me wrench her jeans and panties down to her ankles where her boots trapped them.
It would have to be enough because I wasn't pausing. I was tapping her knees apart and then back finger-fucking, back kissing, back making her feel good.
And she was letting me.
When I felt her nipple push against me, I began trailing licks and kisses down her neck until I reached her chest. I hovered, drawing out the anticipation for both of us.
"I have to suck this. I have to feel it in my mouth. You want it hard?"
"Yes, yes."
"First tell me you know how excellent you are."
Char looked confused.
"Come on. Say 'my, i.e., Charis Sloane's, left tit is the most perfect tit ever created and will be the fount of pleasure starting now.'"
She sputtered, "My…Charis…my ti—I mean my bre—I can't believe this!"
Chuckling, I went to town on her.
There were certain technical challenges to sucking her breast, drumming her clit, and ramming my fingers into her simultaneously. Not a problem
, however. I can definitely multitask.
I was feeling incredible, rubbing my cock against her leg, getting off on her responses and on the delectable feel of her on my tongue. She strained under me, toward me, the total opposite of fighting. No tomboy present. She was all sweetness and eagerness now.
Watching her climax once more was the hottest thing I'd ever seen. Hotter than a porno. Hotter than Aura on her knees. Hotter than losing my virginity. Because Charis was a lust freak, and she fucking came like a tornado, letting her pleasure be known. Known to the neighbors. I made a mental note that next time we'd use my place.
I would have gone on this way, pumping her to orgasm until my hand fell off, as long as it pleased her, because why stop something this good? That was until I heard her sob.
TURNED OUT CUDDLING CHARIS, even with a throbbing dick, was nearly as spectacular as pleasuring her.
She was still crudely half in, half out of her clothing, and for me the sexual tension hadn't dissipated at all. I wanted to spread her legs and make myself at home.
But she'd had a meltdown. It was really only a few seconds of weeping, but for Char, any amount of waterworks was cause for pause.
Thus I was hugging her rather than groping her, lying sideways to her sideways, my leg between hers, dotting kisses on her forehead, jaw, ear.
"Why am I flipping out?" she bawled.
"It happens," I soothed.
"To you?"
"Nah."
"Well, why the hell not?"
I grinned. "I'm not a pussy."
She pinched my arm but didn't stop rubbing her face in my chest, getting snot and drool all over me. My arms tightened. This, this was what I loved. I'd happily go on this way, kissing and snuggling a sniveling Char, until I was cross-eyed.
Okay, I might as well get this out there. I've got a fucking cuddling fetish. I've been told I was a cuddler from the time I burst out of the womb. Winnow claims I must have been passed around to every female in the family my first week in existence.
It's possible. It's kinda not something you'd willingly share around, but there it is. I love holding a woman's softness, her heat, her smell against me. I can keep a hard-on for hours just nuzzling a babe.
Charis wasn't soft everywhere, but we fit together like puzzle pieces, her arm draped around me, her hand resting on my rear end, her leg hooked over me.
Unfriended: A Geek and Stud Romance (Love in New Highland Book 1) Page 16