The Tempest

by Brit Constantine

  We can do slow and gentle in my bed. We can make love with our kisses after. And we can lick at every patch of skin when we're wrapped in sheets. But right now, we are on the staircase, so this has to be a fuck. A pure and simple, quick hard fuck. And he gets that just as I do.

  I feel his cock pulse at my desire of being taken quick and hard, and his hips buck, piercing me with another inch. He pulls back quickly, his muscles bunching as he grips my hips and plunges inside of me again.

  All the way this time.

  I gasp, arching to him and to the pleasure-pain of ecstatic sensations whipping through me with each thrust he slams into me. “I’ve wanted this for so long," he hisses hotly against my ear. “Be loud, Felicity. Every little noise you make turns me on. I wanna hear every single gasp loud.”

  Hard hands hold me beneath him; his hips thrust and churn, his hardness plunging inside me. My hands latch on to his wrists as he grips my hips, his gaze locking on with mine. I shudder beneath him, my eyes worshipping his thick biceps, at his strength and power.

  A hollow groan leaves his throat as he looms over me, his lips sucking my nipple as my eyes slide shut and my head smacks the hard stair beneath me. His lips suck and lick at my sensitive bud, and with a hand latched in my hair, he tugs hard at it, plunging his hips harder, sending the thick length of his cock deeper into my hot pussy, again and again and again.

  My hips jerk as he pulls out, and gripping his cock, he starts to rub it over and around my clit. My hands fly up to his chest — my nails digging into his skin, hard enough to make him hiss loudly — as I start to teeter over the edge of bliss. My whole body feels like it is on fire as it quivers all over, the insistent pulsations of his cock dragging me screaming over the edge.

  “You like that, baby?” he rasps huskily.

  I arch my back as I call out his name, my body convulsing underneath him. The most erotic noises I have ever heard are bouncing off of the narrow staircase walls as I cling to him, my nails raking down his beautiful abs, drawing thin lines of blood.

  He groans wildly, and drives his cock hard into my pussy again. Three hard thrusts have me gasping and arching, and my thighs spread farther apart, my hips lifting for a deeper penetration as his cock parts my slick, hot and yearning flesh.

  I bite down on my lower lip, panted moans slipping between my teeth, and I shut my eyes. His teeth meet my neck and he sucks so hard I know it will bruise. But I don’t care. I’ll touch it later, and remind myself that he was with me.

  He made it.

  I whimper and cry out as he laps up my breasts with his tongue, drilling faster with his cock, my fingers digging into his scalp. His lips move to my mouth as my hips lift and arch as I buck against him, writhing beneath his much larger and heavier form, as he takes me deep and hard and fast in the middle of my goddamn staircase.

  His voice rumbles in my ear, deep with lust, telling me how good I feel as his arms encircle me — strong, scarred hands stroking down my body, his hot and wet mouth caressing every inch it seeks out.

  He devours my mouth as his tongue explores every inch, rubbing erotically against mine. His lips are firm over mine; opening my mouth wider to his more dominate side. He scrapes his rough fingertips across my breasts, and my nipples pucker even more and grow tighter. I moan and whimper as his fingers rub back and forth across my breasts.

  “Since the moment we met I’ve had fantasies about fucking you hard … real hard,” he admits. He looks like a man who is trying to rein back his true strength.

  I whimper in response. “Do it. Lenic, I want it,” I beg. I decide to go for one hand, hard, in his hair, hard enough that I feel like I'm going to rip it from his head. He growls, my painful grip fuelling his thrusts even more.

  “Don’t tempt me … I don’t want to hurt you…”

  Growling deep in his throat, he leans back, and digging his fingers into my hips, he drills into me. The smack of our flesh reverberates through the tiny space of the corridor, and my heart thuds in my chest and everything feels so damn hot and sweaty. His cock rubs me raw and I feel helpless beneath him, helpless against the fury that is Lenic Reevus.

  If this is Lenic restraining himself, if this is him holding something back…

  He realises he has hit the perfect mark after I make some incoherent noises and pretty much just shout "Oh god" and he repeats that same motion, same damn angle and he's so confident about this — that he knows every little way to screw me and make me hot, hard, horny, his.

  Confident goddamn Superman.

  A few more thrusts and he groans, “Oh baby…” and then slows down. "Tell me when you’re cumming," he hisses, as he gives me another thrust and groans once more. I can feel the head of his cock stroking me on the flared edge of my G-spot. His eyes darken and meet mine.

  He is waiting for me. He isn’t allowing himself his release until I reach my own ecstasy. I whimper again, knowing he is buried inside me, fiery hot and thick, and so close to cumming.

  I know ways to make him lose it. I can be confident too, when I want to be. I start to rub my breasts seductively with a carnal look in my eyes, and just like that, I set him off. “Jesus, you’re filthy as hell,” he groans, thrusting into me with abandon.

  Just the thought alone that I am driving him to his climax, and the way he looks at me with such uncontrolled desire, causes something to rip through me. It feels like an electric shock, like a bolt of lightning tearing through me, from the top of my head, to the tips of my toes, and my entire body convulses.

  “Oh Lenic … I’m cumming … I'm cumming.” I scream his name like he is a god.

  As soon as the words pour from my mouth, he plunges hard and fast. Over and over. Harder and harder. I hear my name on his lips as he thrusts hard, a few more deep motions that hit their mark again, and I think he wants to prove his damn stamina or something. He has to be Superman and last longer, but then I feel him shudder against me.

  He looks into my eyes, and slams into me at a frenzied pace, and then he is gone. With one more, hard, deep thrust, he growls loudly, his hand tightening painfully in my hair, as his hot cum gushes inside of me.

  We rub our sweaty, still yearning bodies against one another, as if wanting to feel every inch of the other's gratification.

  Lenic took me to the edge of my world and dropped me at his feet. It didn't hurt one bit. And if it did … I must like pain.

  “You’re filthy, beautiful,” he pants, kissing me low on my neck. “I can’t get enough of it.” He bites down lightly on my skin.

  This godly man is a damn hellion in bed and I know I am going to be very sore to prove it. “And you’re an animal,” I pant back.

  We eventually make it to my bed, but only after he takes me up against my bedroom door.

  Apparently, he couldn’t wait that long.

  14

  “IF IT’S A PORN VIDEO OF YOU FISHING NAKED — I’LL PULL OUT MY BIG ROD.”

  LENIC

  “HERE,” LENIC SAYS, as I exit the bathroom.

  In nothing but his boxer briefs, he extends his hand out and offers me an origami swan. I glance up at him, confused. “Where did this come from?”

  “Made it for you. Found some paper on your table.”

  “You did this?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Wow…” I trail a finger across the bridge of the swan. “You are full of all kinds of surprises. I would have expected you to be into repairing motorbikes, not making delicate paper swans.” I lift it up to examine it closely. “It’s beautiful. Where did you learn to do this?”

  He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t make them that often so...”

  Our eyes lock for a beat, and I raise a rare tender smile. “I promise, I’ll take care of it.” He smiles at me. “Come with me. You’ve ravished my body so much it needs refuelling.”

  He chuckles, following me as I pad barefoot into the kitchen. I swing myself up onto the counter and grab a box of cereal.

  “Tell me,” he says, walking o
ver to the fridge, “what’s your end goal in life?”

  “A big slice of red velvet cake would be lovely.”

  “Now you're the one being evasive.” He opens the fridge and searches through the shelves. “Cupcakes, white-chocolate mousse, leftover pineapple pizza ... Where the hell’s the real food?”

  "I don’t eat plastic, Lenic. I’m not a toddler — Star Pops?” I ask, holding out the opened box towards him, shaking it.

  He shoots me a look. “Don’t you ever eat anything savoury?”

  “Does rice pudding count?”

  He shakes his head. “Back to the subject at hand. What do you want in life?”

  “I feel like I’m being grilled by a Marine sergeant in my kitchen.”

  He reaches for the jug of filtered water, and slams the fridge door shut. “I’m not trying to grill you. I just want to know what else you want besides sex.”

  I grin. “I don't just want sex. I want it with you, gorgeous." I wink at him. "OK. I’ll play. I want to keep going out with my friends and drink the night away and dance until I drop, without a care in the world. But mostly, I want to see you naked.”

  “That feeling is mutual," he says, walking over to me. "What else do you want?”

  “I want to travel to the Bahamas—” I squeak when I feel the heat of his hand through my underwear. "Lenic...”

  “I'm listening," he says with a grin on his face.

  "I'm not capable of having a conversation," I say, licking my lips, "because every time you touch me, my brain starts screaming things that I shouldn't be listening to.”

  “I love your brain.”

  “You should hear what my body says — don't even respond to that." I slide the box of cereal in my hand between us, and sigh when he shifts closer to me. "There's only been a five minute rest break tonight from having sex. That only happened because I needed to use the bathroom.”

  “Are you complaining that I spend too much time touching you?" He slides his palm up my leg.

  "Lenic…" I say on a shaky breath, and watch as those beautiful brown eyes darken.

  "I don't think you’re aware of what you do to me, Hazelnut. I'm not done with you until every inch of you is covered in my scent.”

  “Are you marking me like some kind of possessive caveman?”

  “No. I’m wrapping your body into mine until we are the same goddamn thing.” He kisses me. It’s wild, and forceful.

  “You need a glass of water to cool down,” I breathe out, stifling white-hot shivers. I shove him away before he has a chance to take me again, and grab a glass from the cupboard. I reach it out to him, but then pull it back. “Why do you call me Hazelnut? Is it because you like to eat them?” I smile.

  He grabs the glass from my hand. “I’m allergic to them.” My smile turns upside down, watching him pour water into the glass. “Take it easy, Hazelnut. You’ve got beautiful hazel eyes. And as for hazelnuts, used to love eating them all the time when I was five. My mum baked these amazing caramel and hazelnut cookies. Used to steal the whole damn lot and run up to my bedroom and hide in my cupboard and scoff them all. Sometimes get tempted to eat one now.” He circles a finger over the top of my hand. “They’re dangerous but … taste damn good.”

  “Worth—”

  “Dying for.” His lips curl at the sides.

  “Isn’t that something tasteless Cross would say to a girl?”

  “Not my finest hour. Blame the hunger. Now your turn — why do you call me ‘gorgeous’?”

  “Well, that’s an easy one. Because you have…” I drop my gaze to his groin. “…gorgeous features.” His soft chuckle draws a smile out of me. “As much as I love talking about myself, let’s get back to you. I want to talk about the great Lenic Reevus some more.” Like, what is the deal between him and West? What happened to him years ago that made him discharge from the Royal Navy and change him as a person?

  “Endlessly fascinating topic but back to you — what do you want from life?”

  He is gorgeous, but he’s a stubborn bastard. I sigh in frustration. “I don’t have one end goal in life because I get what I want mostly.”

  “And that would be?”

  “Good friends. Somewhere to live. Dancing the night away with a cocktail in hand.”

  “Not exactly ambitious.”

  “I’ve done alright,” I say a little defensively.

  “Yeah.” He gulps down the glass of water. “But you're not in charge, are you?”

  “I'm my own boss at work.”

  “Your career ... right ... It's not what I was referring to.”

  I study him. “How did you get to where you are?”

  “Took some risks. Made the wins.”

  “What about the losses?”

  He smirks over the top of his glass. “What losses?”

  “Come on. Be truthful.”

  “There are always wins and losses. People who don't get that don't understand achieving goals — or life for that matter.”

  I scoff. “You never lose?”

  His eyelids flutter. “I did. Once.” He sets the glass down on the counter and stares at it. “It's why I try to give back.”

  “So the whole charity ambassador thing is not all bullshit. You do care.”

  He looks at me. “It’s tax deductible,” he grins momentarily. “Some things you can't control. But if it's in my power, then I never ever lose.”

  “You can make that happen?”

  “Anything’s justified as long as you win.”

  “You believe that?”

  “I don't just believe it — I know it.”

  “What else do you know?”

  He sighs. “Stay ahead of the game. Always know more than your opponent. And when you’re hit, just brush it off.”

  “Just ignore it until it goes away?”

  “Block it until it can't hurt you no more…” I look at him. I want to know what it is that he is blocking out. What is it that is hurting him? “Now more of you.”

  “Now more of me what?”

  “Told you some personal things about me, now you tell me a few things about you.”

  “OK.” I wait a beat. “I like wine. I hate Stevia. And I love to wear red lace lingerie.”

  He stands there with a slight smile on his face. “You call that a fair exchange?”

  “Who said anything about fair?”

  He fixes me with a challenging smile. “We've established she's a dirty player, everyone.”

  “Like you.”

  “I'll show you just how dirty I like to play.” His voice has a trace of satisfaction and mischief. “Get back in the bedroom.”

  I can't stop looking at his guns, what with the way his arms are flexed. I can't stop myself from staring at those tight black boxer briefs either, and the way they hug his muscular thighs and … and something else. Something else that is just a little happier than it was a minute ago.

  I snatch up another handful of cereal into my hand to distract myself. “How about you give me a little show." Munching on the cereal, I cock my head and give his body a slow dirty appraisal, until my eyes meet his once again. “Drop and give me fifty, soldier.”

  “Marine.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “We’re harder.” He grinds his body in between my legs. I gulp, nearly choking on a mouthful of Star Pops, feeling the swell of his cock against my clothed heat. “Another round of fucking you is the better show.”

  “Lenic. I'm much too sore. Please, I need a small break at least.” He shakes his head no, shooting me that lopsided grin. “You’re sex mad, you are.”

  He shakes his head once. “I. Want. You. There’s a difference.” He kisses me, then pulls back. “Got any coffee, beautiful?”

  “Mmmmm.” I savour the taste of him in my mouth. “Yes. I’ll make you some.”

  “Take it black and hot. Scrap that. Toss me the jar. I’ll chew in the grinds. Need the energy to give you at least ten more positions.”

  Sw
allowing hard, I slide off from the counter and extend my hand out, palm facing upwards. “First — hand me your phone.”

  “Why?”

  “The deal, remember? I gave you permission to kiss me in the shower in return of deleting that video you filmed of me … you know … doing stuff…” I don’t know why my cheeks are rising in heat. There is something about Lenic that makes me feel like a lovesick teenager crushing on her crush.

  “I forget what stuff. Why don’t you tell me what you were doing again? And don’t miss out a single detail.”

  “Hey, a deal’s a deal,” I huff playfully.

  “Don’t sweat. I didn’t hit record.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “And why should I believe you?”

  “Because I say so.”

  “You are full of yourself.”

  “I’ll never lie to you,” he says earnestly.

  “Can I trust you?”

  He pauses for a moment, a little too long for my liking. “Yes.”

  I look at him and quietly ask, “Why is it when you say anything … I believe it?” He kisses me, his tongue softly dancing with mine. He breaks the kiss and I murmur, “I don't even know you.”

  “You can trust me.”

  I stare at him, unmoving, then blink up at him. “You didn’t film me?” He nods, his face growing serious. “Oh…”

  “You sound disappointed.” I can hear the smile in his voice.

  I shrug. “I don’t know…” I feel my cheeks prickling again.

  “Get back on the counter now and touch yourself. We can make our own private video.”

  “I thought you were more into fishing videos than porn. Don’t deny it. I’ve seen your history.”

  “Depends. If it’s a porn video of you fishing naked — I’ll pull out my big rod.”

  I smack him playfully on the chest and laugh. “Why do you like fishing?” He shrugs. “It’s unusual for someone, isn’t it? For a man like you — big and hard — to be gauged in fishing.”