by Fall, Lucy
Her breasts are crushed against my chest and we kiss on and on. I weave my hand into her glorious hair and tilt her throat back the way I’ve wanted to for so many years. I slide my mouth along her jaw line and try not to roar when I feel her shudder, then her bones going limp in my embrace.
“Yes,” she whispers, “That feels so good.”
My cock might explode. I push it up against her only as much as I’ll allow myself to, seeking relief from the pressure building in me. She responds in kind, grinding her hips in one fluid motion against mine, her breaths growing erratic. My mouth feasts on the curve of her throat, down to the junction of her neck and shoulder.
Her skin is so ridiculously soft.
I let my other hand roam along her back, then slide down to stroke the upper curves of her round ass. Her pelvis starts working against me harder, and her breasts rub along my pecs.
“I want you, kitten,” I tell her baldly. “I need to make you come.”
In the background, the furnace kicks on in a soft sound that I barely hear. Other than that, it’s totally quiet except for the rasps of our breaths, the rubbing of our clothed bodies against each other.
“I…” She swallows, her body stiffening, and seems to struggle with what to say in response to my admission.
I can’t help the swift kick of disappointment that punches me in the gut. She’s going to tell me to stop, and because I love her more than my own life, I’ll do it, but it might just break me in half. I pause myself from licking her flesh, my nose nuzzled into the collar of her dress shirt.
“I don’t know what’s happening here, but I can’t lie to you,” she finally says, then pulls her torso back and looks me in the eye. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen her so serious. “I…want you too.” The words are a breathy admission spilling from her lips.
Triumph screams through my body, and I make myself not rip her clothes off and plunge into her right here and now.
I pull her off me, though my cock agonizes over the loss of her warmth, and situate her until she’s sitting on the blanket again. I take the spot opposite her. It’s time to explore Lauren’s desires. How does she feel about me taking control? Will she acquiesce or push back? Time to find out.
“Take off your shirt,” I tell her.
Her eyes widen just for a flash, and I see a pulse jump at the base of her throat. “We… Are we…”
“We’re not going to have sex,” I say. I’m not going to let my first time with her be in the basement of my family’s bar. Fuck that. She deserves better.
Lauren nods, and I can’t tell if she’s relieved or disappointed at sex being off the table. Her fingers move to her top button and she starts to fly down the row.
“Go slowly.” I know my voice sounds rough, and I feel a twinge of guilt, but I can’t seem to soften it—all my cravings are roaring at me right now so loudly I can barely think beyond what I want to do to her.
Her eyes get hooded and she nods, slowing her pace down until it’s almost painful for me to watch. The white lace of her simple cotton bra peeks through, then the gentle curve of her belly, until the shirt is hanging open.
Once she’s done, she sets her hands on her thighs. Her fingers curl into her legs.
Fuck me. She’s waiting. She likes me telling her what to do.
Course of action decided, I say, “Take your shirt off.” This time I don’t feel any guilt over the harsh edge of my tone. It’s clear from her body language that she enjoys it.
I can see her shiver in response, and she does as I say. Her breasts strain over the top of her bra, and I want to lick those mounds, suck the erect nipples into my mouth, bite down, caress, see if I can make her orgasm just from lavishing attention on her sexy tits.
I struggle to keep myself in check.
When her eyes connect with mine, I’m startled by the intensity in them. She really wants this right now. Is the alcohol causing her to drop her guard and perceive me in this new way, or is it merely persuading her to do something she normally wouldn’t?
A moment of indecision wars in me. I want her to want this freely, not because she’s coerced or drunk. Fuck. I don’t know what to do; a flash of the old, indecisive Cole peeks back to the surface.
Then her fingers reach up and she slides the bra cups down to rest under her naked breasts, baring herself to me, and the last of my concerns dissipate. Her dusky nipples are hard, her fingers circling the engorged tips. Her eyes are locked on mine, and she’s licking her lips like she’s hungry.
Before I know it, my mouth is on one breast and my hand on the other. She buries her fingers in my hair and squeezes, arches her tits against me, and I taste her flesh and, fuck, she is everything I want in this world.
“Oh God, yes, yes, Cole,” she cries out, her grip in my hair tightening. Lauren wants this, and fuck me if I’m not going to give her everything she hungers for. The sound of her saying my name with such passion makes my heart soar.
I keep my mouth locked on her breast, suckling, as I reach my other hand down to flick open her pants. She removes one hand from my head to help me with the task, and we get her down to her bra and panties. I stretch her out on the blanket and pull away so I can worship her body with my eyes.
“You are so beautiful it hurts,” I tell her, and her cheeks flush red in response.
She shakes her head. “You’re the beautiful one.” One hand reaches out to stroke the hem of my shirt. “I…I want to see you.”
My dress shirt and undershirt are ripped off and discarded before she can say another word. She inhales and eyes me, and the blatant appreciation in her gaze makes me feel like a god.
I crawl over her, straddling her hips, our mouths almost touching, and say, “What do you want, kitten? Tell me.”
She licks her lips. “I want to…I want an orgasm.”
“That was already going to happen,” I inform her, adjusting so my forearms are resting by her head. The heat between our torsos is scorching now, and my pants are pretty much the only thing keeping me smart enough to not say “fuck it” and plunge deep inside her. “How do you want it?”
“Um.” Her sudden bashfulness brings out a wave of emotion in me. She clears her throat. “You choose.”
Oh, kitten. You have no idea what you’re asking for from me. I try not to groan at the dozen dirty mental images that fly through my head, all involving her spread wide open and me penetrating her hard every possible way I can. “Are you sure?”
She nods and inches her head off the ground, brushing her lips against mine. “Make me feel good, please.”
I slip my fingers between us and almost come in my pants when I touch the wet heat of her pussy through her panties. She’s already so aroused it’s drenched the fabric. Fuck. I stroke the damp slit, and she groans and writhes in my hand. “I’m going to make you come so hard you can’t breathe.”
Her eyes close and her head drifts back down to the blanket. Her back arches, those bare breasts rubbing against my pecs and beading once more from the sensation. “Yes, fuck, that feels amazing. Don’t stop.”
I shove the crotch of Lauren’s panties to one side, then move my hand away. She whimpers. I grab her hand and drag it to her own pussy. “I want you to touch yourself.”
She blinks up at me, embarrassment flickering in her eyes. “Oh. I…”
I capture her mouth in a hot, possessive kiss, and she relaxes under me. When I pull away, I tell her, “I want to see what feels good for you. How you like to be touched. Stroke that pussy for me, sweetheart, and help me learn your body.” I move one of my hands to her breast and give it languid strokes with my fingers, not touching the nipple at first.
After a minute or so of this, she’s writhing under my palm, no longer self-conscious. I can feel her hand rubbing against my pelvis as she touches her cunt. I roll onto my side so I can watch.
The burnished-red trim on her bared mound is clipped neat, and her lower lips are dripping wet as her fingers slick along her slit. Sh
e rubs her clit, her mouth open, eyes closed. I can smell the musk of her arousal, hear the slipperiness of her juices as she strokes herself. My girl is good and worked up, and I feel my balls tighten with the urge to spill my seed.
Her limbs start to clench. I can see she’s getting close. While it’s so fucking tempting to let her finish herself off, I stop her by grabbing her hand and sucking her fingers into my mouth. Her juices fill my senses, the delicate earthiness I’ve been craving for so many years. I can’t help myself—I move between her thighs, resting on my knees, and drop my face down to her pussy. Breathe her in, swipe my tongue along the soaking lips.
She bucks against my mouth, and I pin her pelvis down with one hand, spreading her legs wide with the other so I can nestle better in between her legs. “Don’t move,” I order her.
She stops instantly. I can see her body giving off little shivers, but she doesn’t disobey me. I think my cock would shoot off if she touched it, but I don’t want to come. I want this to be about her.
I return my attention to taking in every sensory detail I can about her pussy. The light pink flush of her nether lips. The rich tang of her liquid, the wetness, how I can see her body clenching and shuddering in anticipation.
Hands clamped on her thighs to keep them apart, I dart my tongue out and nudge it along her clit. She stiffens, and I feel her muscles bunch under my firm grip. Her skin is creamy soft; I let my fingers stroke the flesh. Meanwhile I dive into her cunt and feast on her, her come covering my face, her scent enveloping me. Need is spiraling in my gut, and I’m going to lose my grip soon if she doesn’t orgasm. I slip two fingers into her, feel her tightness clench around me, and groan hard. Fuck, she’s gushing all over my hand.
I want to plunge inside her so badly it’s making me insane. I can barely think, barely breathe, barely notice anything beyond her beautiful apex.
I curl my fingers to stroke her G spot, and her breathing becomes harsh, panting. I lavish her slit with my tongue, lick everywhere, slide down to the thin stretch of skin right above her puckered asshole, then move back up to her lower lips and nibble, suck, press the flesh. “Come for me,” I growl. “Come on my mouth, kitten. I want to taste it.”
Her whole body clenches, her pussy so tight it traps my fingers, and she says, “Oh Cole, yes, yes, I’m…” She exhales hard and cries out, and I suck her button clit as she comes all over my face.
I ride the wave with her, her arousal so potent it’s almost my own. As she descends, I press an open-mouthed kiss to her inner thighs, then one to her soaking pussy, and move up to lie beside her, taking my undershirt and balling it up as a pillow for me. My cock aches for me to take it out and fist it, to shoot this load dying to get out, but I’ve decided I’m not doing that, not yet. This night had to be about her, and if I’m honest, the torture of waiting to come inside her is fucking heady.
Lauren snuggles into my embrace and rests her head on my arm. Her limbs are molten, her body curving against mine, and I wrap her against me and kiss her forehead. The sleepy sigh she gives me in response makes my heart hurt. This is what I want even more than fucking her senseless. I want to fall asleep every night with her in my arms. How can I settle for anything less?
“That felt good,” she murmurs in a thick tone. “But…we didn’t…” Her hand starts to drift down my bare chest toward my pants, and I stop her movement with a firm but careful clench of my hand.
“Sleep now,” I whisper. “I’m fine.” This will do for the time being. But the next time I have her—and God help me, I hope there is a next time—I’m not going to stop at just tasting her.
Lauren
“TGIF!” Emme says to me as she opens my office door. Her grin is wide and welcoming, and the pale pink dress she’s wearing hugs her curves nicely. Her hair flows around her shoulders, unbound. “I updated your calendar to move the Wheeler meeting to Tuesday, as you requested. They’re really excited to meet with you. The woman couldn’t stop talking about what a great job you did on her cousin’s renovation. She has high hopes you’ll help her too.”
I pull up our shared calendar on my computer and quickly type a note to myself about what to bring with me to the meeting, then look at Emme. “I want you to come with me. You’re free, right?”
She nods, and her grateful smile makes my heart happy. “Of course,” she gushes. “Glad to. This sounds like a fun project—we don’t get a lot of bed and breakfasts, so it’ll be a good way to expand my knowledge base.”
“And they desperately need the updating,” I reply, grimacing as I recall the outdated orange-and-green color schemes, the worn-out furniture, the chipped tile flooring. So heinous. No wonder they’re not pulling in enough clientele. A face-lift will make a huge difference in their business. “If anyone can pull them out of the seventies with style, I think we can.”
“Absolutely.” With a nod, Emme exits my office, and it’s quiet in here once again. Too quiet.
I’m left alone with my rampant thoughts, which haven’t stopped hammering in my brain since Wednesday night’s lock-in. I can’t stop thinking about what happened between me and Cole. That soul-searing kiss. The way he made me come so hard I practically saw stars. And then I fell asleep in his arms, more protected and secure than I remember ever feeling. Despite being on the floor, I was pretty comfortable in his embrace.
Thankfully I dressed at some point during the night, because he and I woke up early Thursday morning to his brother Xander stomping down the steps, utterly confused and wondering why we were sleeping in the basement. When we told him we got locked in, he apologized profusely—of course, laughing his ass off as well.
Xander didn’t seem to detect anything had happened between me and Cole, so I was able to slip away with my dignity intact. At least it didn’t feel like the walk of shame.
I thought distance and space yesterday would help me gain perspective on the whole situation. Instead, I feel like I’ve slipped down the rabbit hole, and everything is different than it should be. A big part of me wants things to go back to how they were before, when our relationship was safe and stable and normal. Adding the sexual element in is going to change things between us, I just know it will.
And yet…I can’t stop thinking about Cole’s talented mouth between my legs, his fingers and tongue stroking me to orgasm. It was mind-blowing, unexpected, and it’s changed the way I see him now. His sexual prowess was magnetic that night, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what it would feel like to have full-on sex with the man. Limbs tangled, sweat-slicked torsos, mouths locked, breaths intermingled… I sigh and wave a piece of paper in front of my face to cool down.
Is it possible for he and I to be, I dunno, friends with benefits and not screw up our friendship? If so, is that what I want? And does he? Or was that a one-time event for him? He didn’t even come, so maybe not…?
The ache in my lower belly at the thought of feeling Cole buried deep inside me tells me that at least the physical part of me wants it. Badly.
My phone buzzes. Speak of the devil, a text from Cole. My fingers shake a little and I hesitate before looking to see what he wrote. We haven’t talked much, mostly through random messages here and there. No mention of what happened Wednesday night—the event that pretty much turned my world upside down.
I finally look.
Busy tonight? Let’s hang out.
I both want to and don’t at the same time, and I hate how angsty this is making me. I type back, Shit, can’t, sorry. I’m taking a half day today—promised to hang with Christina for lunch and shopping, since she has it off too. She’ll kick my ass if I bail on her.
My sister’s job as a nurse keeps her busy as hell, so we don’t get together as much as we’d like to. Whenever she has free time, I try to make sure I’m there. We planned this date a couple of months ago, and despite the uncomfortable itch beneath my skin to see Cole again, I can’t cancel.
Bring her with you. Haven’t hung out with her in ages—it’ll be fun.
<
br /> I don’t know if I’m relieved or disappointed that he suggested this. After all, if we’re not alone, we don’t have to talk about The Thing That Happened. Then again, that means we won’t do anything else about The Thing That Happened, either.
My phone vibrates with a new text from Cole: Say yes. We’ll play pool and I’ll rob you blind. I’ll bring a buddy along too.
Well, I can’t be the one to make it awkward between us. If we’re hanging in a group, it’ll make that first meeting easier. Maybe even help me get past this weird conflict and start feeling normal again.
I’ll ask her and get back to you, I write. But I’m pretty sure it’ll be fine.
He’s not making a big deal out of it, so I shouldn’t either. Maybe it was one of those things where he checked an item off a list he made while overseas—try sushi, ride a bull, kiss a friend. And it just got carried away, but now it’s done and his curiosity is sated, and we’ll go back to normal.
After all, if he wanted me that badly, wouldn’t he have let me give him an orgasm too?
The thought of being a one-time checklist item makes my stomach sink. Okay, I admit, more than a small part of me aches to explore the chemistry between us. But instead of overanalyzing it, the way I’ve been doing, I should just let it happen. If nothing comes of tonight, so be it.
But if Cole shows any signs of wanting me…well, we’ll just see, I guess. Still, kinda glad I’m going shopping this afternoon so I can buy something to cute to wear. A girl never knows what’s going to happen, right?
* * *
I take a bite of my chocolate brownie. Close my eyes for a moment and savor the thick, fudgy taste. “Oh my God, this is the most amazing brownie I’ve ever had in my life.”
“See?” Christina says in triumph. She shoots me a cocky grin. “Told ya. I’ve never had a bad dessert here.”
My sis and I are at a local Mediterranean café, where we already inhaled our lunches. I ate way too much hummus, and she consumed more stuffed grape leaves than a human is supposed to. Needless to say, the food has been great. In between bites, we’ve talked nonstop about our jobs, her telling me stories of the crazy kids she encounters in pediatrics, me talking about a recent project I worked on with a diva client who changed her mind a hundred times every damn step of the process.