Iron Born (Iron Palace Book 1)

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Iron Born (Iron Palace Book 1) Page 37

by Lisa Ferrari


  Kellan stands there, eyes wide, mouth open. He stops touching himself; he’s focused entirely on me.

  I’m on full display, completely exposed, yet the moment is empowering as well. A drop of clear liquid clings to the tip of Kellan’s erection, like sweet dew on a lovely flower.

  I want to taste it.

  I ease myself down from the countertop and grab Kellan by his penis. It’s thick and hot in my hand.

  His eyes open wide and he smiles. He even laughs a little.

  I pull him over to the bed, then turn him and push him down onto it.

  I climb onto the bed, kneeling over him.

  “Move up,” I command, and we scooch up closer to the headboard.

  Kellan grins.

  He likes it.

  “You like it when I’m in charge, don’t you.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  I take another look around, searching for the speakers, anything with a little perforated grill on it for the sound to escape. I definitely recognize the piano now.

  Then I remember why, and how, I dragged Kellan over to the bed.

  His beautiful body is on full display before me now.

  It occurs to me that we’ve never actually done it in a bed.

  We’ve never actually done it at all.

  Yet.

  But we’ve always fooled around in his pool or spa or on the sofa. We were about to do stuff in his bed when the Mister Beaumont showed up. I hope it’s doing okay downstairs where the valet parked it and no one is messing with it.

  Claire. Focus.

  “You okay?” Kellan is looking at me expectantly.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “No reason, except you’ve been staring off into space for about ten seconds. Is something bothering you?”

  “No.”

  “What were you thinking about?”

  “Um…” Should I tell him? He has told me repeatedly to share, to be honest. He’s right, of course. I still feel stupid, though, for some reason. But I decide to tell him. “I was thinking about how this is the first time we’ve ever fooled around in an actual bed. And I was wondering if the Mister Beaumont is okay downstairs. You think it’s okay? No one is going to mess with it?”

  Kellan sits up and kisses me.

  “Don’t worry. No one is going to mess with it. Besides, it’s just a car.”

  His mouth slides to my neck and he begins biting and licking and sucking like a vampire. I can hardly think straight.

  “But it’s not just a car…” God, it feels so good. What was my point going to be? Oh yeah: “It’s special. You and I bought it together.”

  “That’s true.” Kellan nibbles on my ear and caresses both of my breasts. He squeezes and rolls my nipples very gently between finger and thumb. They say women can orgasm solely from nipple play. I’ve always been skeptical about that. But right now I feel like a good candidate.

  Kellan’s hot, wet mouth sends chills through my entire body. They culminate between my legs. I’m so wet. I can feel it running out of me.

  I glance down and see his erection.

  I dive on it. I push it as far into my throat as I can, until my lips are pressed against Kellan’s smooth, hairless abdomen.

  “Oh my God, Claire, yes!”

  I push on Kellan’s chest, pushing him onto his back. I suck him as hard as I can. I pull on his scrotum. I reach up and pinch his nipples.

  He moans loudly, breathing heavily.

  Kellan is down my throat. I’m wondering why I’m not gagging and expelling half-digested Taco Bell all over his crotch. Is the Taco Bell logo really a 6 with a reptilian eye in the middle, and each restaurant has the logo on the front and sides of the building in order to make a 666?

  Claire! You have a penis in your mouth; focus.

  Kellan’s hands find my hair, making fists.

  But it feels nice. I like it. He’s writhing in the bed, gasping for air and slowly working his hips up and down, giving me more of him to enjoy, and communicating to me how much he loves what I’m doing to him.

  I slide my mouth up and down the length of him.

  At last I pause to get some air.

  He’s wet and glistening with my saliva.

  We both take a moment to admire his amazing erection.

  I want to take a pic of it.

  Staring at it awakens the longing inside me.

  Before I have a chance to think about it, I straddle him. I reach down, take him in my hand, and guide him inside me. I sink down onto him, taking every inch in one smooth motion.

  It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

  It takes my breath away.

  It’s heaven.

  Kellan has his hands on my hips. He’s looking up at me. His eyes tell me that he’s lost in the magnitude of the moment.

  I lean forward, curl my arms around his neck, wraps my legs around his legs, and shove my tongue in his mouth.

  Kellan opens his mouth for me and we begin to move in sync, a perfect rhythm, his hips rising to meet mine.

  We stare into each other’s eyes, open mouths kissing.

  We make love.

  He’s inside me.

  I’m wrapped around him.

  Oh my good God.

  It feels so good.

  It’s wonderful.

  It’s perfect.

  It’s heaven.

  I AM COMPLETELY, utterly, and totally lost.

  I don’t know where I end and Kellan begins. We are one.

  I’m a puzzle and he’s my missing piece.

  His hands caress my hair and he kisses me passionately. His hips lift me up off the bed, each thrust filling me, going deeper than the last.

  Kellan sits up, holding tight to me, his arms around me. I sit in his lap, impaled exquisitely upon him.

  We are face to face, kissing, kissing, kissing, mouths and lips and tongues, with him inside me and me around him.

  I lie back, pulling him down on top of me. My hands squeeze his buttocks, spreading him open, pulling him deeper inside me.

  Kellan caresses my breasts, kissing me, filling my mouth with his long tongue, his penis so hot and thick inside me. And so deep.

  Piano fills the room, a song I know and love about a scientist and going back to the start.

  Yes.

  I roll Kellan onto his back, pushing him with my lips, my tongue, my mouth, my body, my very being.

  I seize his hands in mine and our fingers intertwine. I press his hands down onto the mattress above his head, pinning him. I press my mouth to his, my tongue filling his mouth now.

  I slide myself up and down the length of him. So deep. So deep.

  …Nobody said it was easy…

  …Nobody said it would be this hard…

  We are lost together, one body, one heart, two souls made one, made whole, joined forever.

  And then I’m coming. I’m on top of him, he’s inside me, but our bodies are so far away. My eyes are shut tight. Kellan’s arms are around me, crushing me to him. My body shudders, clamped around him. Far away he’s calling my name and saying yes, over and over again.

  He’s so hard and big and beautiful and I know I will love him forever as I come apart. The heat of his love fills me. I feel it the moment it happens. We come together. We come undone. As one.

  SOME TIME LATER, I become vaguely aware that I am in a bed with Kellan somewhere.

  The music is still playing, though softly now.

  Kellan leans down and kisses my forehead, then the tip of my nose, and finally my lips.

  It’s somewhat dark. The lights are off, just a nice orange glow from the kitchen fills the room. Outside, waves are crashing against the shore. …you and me are floating on a tidal wave… The tide must be coming in because the waves are loud.

  And I’m safe in here, warm and replete. In bed. With Kellan. I look up at him, utterly in love with him.

  “What time is it?” I ask.

  “I don’t know. Who cares.”

  “Isn’t
it time for a meal? I’m sure it’s been two hours.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “A little. Maybe in a little while.”

  Kellan leans down and kisses me. “Okay.”

  Kellan gathers me to him. He’s so warm.

  We lie there together, listening to the music, X&Y, I think, punctuated perfectly by the steady, random crashing of waves outside.

  I decide to broach the subject of what we just did.

  “So, um, did you like that?”

  Kellan chuckles. “Yes. I, uh, I don’t want to make comparisons, but I’ve never done anything like that before. That was…that was…good. I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard in my life.”

  “Me either. Mine was insane.”

  Kellan laughs. “I know. You pretty much lost consciousness.”

  “I did?” I honestly don’t remember. “The last thing I remember was feeling you coming inside me and saying my name over and over again.”

  “Yeah. That was good. I felt you squeezing me. And you got really wet all of a sudden. You came all over me. It was so hot. I loved it.”

  “I loved it, too.”

  I lean up to kiss him. He kisses me back, our lips pressed together hard. He places one hand on my face. I feel like I could climb on top of him and do it all again.

  “Are you tired?” he asks. “Do you want to sleep?”

  “No. I’m just relaxed. This is perfect.”

  “You can say that again.”

  “This is perfect.”

  We listen to the waves and the music. I’m so calm. My body is somewhere far away. I feel Kellan breathing beside me. There are no unwanted thoughts running rampant through my mind, scampering around, beyond my control, twisting me like I’m a wash cloth being wrung out.

  We talk a little. Kellan tells me about his trip to North Carolina. He says it was fun but busier than usual. He got four hours of sleep each night, he only worked out once, and he ate only protein bars during the day, until he could find a proper meal at a restaurant each night, eating with different sponsors who always like to have dinner with him. He always feels it’s the right thing to do, given that they fly him out First Class and put him up in a nice hotel on top of his fee.

  He asks what I did while he was gone.

  I tell him about the cinnamon roll I wanted but ultimately did not eat, to which he replies, “Good girl,” and kisses the top of my head. I tell him about work, the bar mitzvah, about Chris maybe getting the head chef job because Chef Hoyt got a job in San Francisco where the windsurfing is world class. I tell him about the leg workout when I squatted 225 all by myself.

  He reiterates that it was stupid but still very cool.

  I tell him about Denise confessing their conversation when he took her for a ride in the Mister Beaumont. Thinking of her ass and philandering vagina in the passenger seat incites jealousy in me. I quickly move on to explaining that the pizza and margaritas and brownies and cookie dough were her way of apologizing. I tell him about the pizza delivery guy and how Denise totally messed with him and then gave him a $17 tip.

  Kellan apologizes for being such a dick in his text message. He says he’s caved in to junk food temptation a time or two himself.

  I tell him how my mom and sister went to work on me, and how my mom plied me with a quarter of a cherry pie and half a gallon of vanilla ice cream and how I ate all of it, but I also realized for the first time in my life that I was turning to food for comfort. It was a novel concept because I’d never had anything to compare it to before.

  …you don’t have to be alone…

  Kellan says that’s a very important revelation. He kisses my head again.

  “Why have you never corrected your mom or Denise?”

  “About what?”

  “About calling you ‘Claire bear’. You obviously don’t like it.”

  “So.”

  “So tell them to stop.”

  “They won’t.”

  “Make them.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know, only you can answer that. Next time it happens, tell them you don’t like it and that you find it condescending and that even though they think it’s cute, you don’t. And you need them to stop doing it. And if they continue to do it, stay calm and remind them that they’re not to do that anymore and hopefully they’ll say ‘sorry’ and will try not to say it in the future.”

  “My mom might go along. Denise won’t.”

  “She will if you properly convey that you’re serious.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “I don’t know, only you can know that in the moment that it happens. My guess is that you’ll have to get kind of tough with her. You’ll have to say something hurtful or use a bunch of profanity or call her out on her own stuff in order for her to get that things are changing.”

  “She won’t like it. My mom won’t, either.”

  “Too bad. Look, Claire, if you want my advice, I think you need to stop worrying about whether or not people like you.”

  “I don’t. Do I?”

  “I think you do. You always try to keep the peace, which is good, and very sweet, but it’s usually at your own expense, which is wrong. You’re always the one to acquiesce or back down or give in. You care so much about others and about everyone else’s feelings that you don’t care about your own. You put everyone else’s happiness ahead of your own.”

  “That’s because I know how nice it is to get what I want. So I like seeing other people get what they want.”

  “I know you do. And that’s very sweet. But it kills a tiny piece of you every time it happens. You’re sacrificing a tiny piece of your heart. Eventually, you’re not going to have anything left. You’re sweet and kind and loving and everyone knows it. But they also use it to take advantage of you and to exert control over you and to call you ‘Claire bear’ even though they know you don’t like it. It’s the same reason Denise tried that champagne-threesome stunt at her house last week, because she knows she can do whatever she wants and you won’t do anything about it. You’ll put up with it. I’ve had friends that did that kind of stuff with me and I always gave them the benefit of the doubt because I wanted to keep the peace. But I realized eventually that it was actually harming me. I didn’t feel good about myself. So I stopped doing it.”

  “How?”

  “I said screw it and the next time it happened, I got right in this guy’s face and called him out and lectured him about how what he was doing wasn’t cool and that if he wanted to be my friend he had to apologize and never, ever do it again.”

  “What happened?”

  “Stunned silence. Everyone was all like, ‘Holy crap, Kellan’s pissed.’ And I was. We were at this guy Tony’s house, watching a football game on a Sunday.”

  “What was it that made you so angry?”

  “There was a new guy I’d only met three or four times, I think his name was Julio, but he was there that day. Every time he saw me, he would start talking about how women are turned off by bodybuilders and the only people who like bodybuilders are other bodybuilders so since I’m a bodybuilder I must be gay, only he always said ‘big fag’. And he would ask questions about steroids and could I get him some. And he said he used to know a guy who used Tren and he was thinking about doing some Tren and how much does Tren cost and could I get him some Tren?”

  “What’s Tren?”

  “Trenbolone. It’s an anabolic invented for livestock.”

  “Animals?”

  “It makes cows and pigs and horses bigger and stronger and more muscular. More muscle on a cow means more meat on your plate means more money paid by the meat company to the rancher.”

  “And I’m never eating steak again. So, what happened with Julio?”

  “At first I tried to laugh it off. I was hoping he’d get a clue and stop calling me a big fag and stop asking about Tren. But he didn’t. So, about halfway through the fourth quarter, the Chiefs were up by twenty points and it was pouring down r
ain in Kansas City and they were talking about calling the game because of lightning and I went to the fridge to get another beer and Julio, who was sitting across the room in front of the TV, calls out so that everyone hears him, ‘Hey, big fag, bring me another beer. And some Tren!’ ” And then he stuffs a bunch of pretzels in his face and looks around laughing, looking to see who else was laughing.”

  “Was anybody else laughing?”

  “No.”

  “Were there any girls there?”

  “No, it was just guys. Six or seven, I think.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I brought him a beer. But when he reached for it I told him to stand up. At first he laughed but then he saw I was serious so he stood up. I told him I’d give him the beer on one condition. That he stop calling me a big fag because, even though I was straight, my sexual orientation was none of his business and it was offensive, and that I had never done Tren or Deca or Test or taken Winnie or Anavar or anything else, and that if he ever mentioned it again, I was going to beat him to within an inch of his life. And I said, ‘Understand?’ And he looked around and then back at me and realized he was on his own and he said yes. So I gave him the beer.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, wasn’t it awkward and uncomfortable?”

  “Yeah. But then somebody farted really loud and it stank really bad and everyone ran out of the living room and into the kitchen and that was pretty much the end of it.”

  “Did you ever see Julio again?”

  “Yeah. He came over a few times after that and always shook my hand and said hello. He never called me a big fag or mentioned steroids again, either.”

  “You earned his respect. But you had to be a dick to do it. You had to almost fight him.”

  “Yeah. But he was the one being a dick so he had it coming.”

  This is an interesting revelation. The thought of challenging my mom or Denise the way Kellan challenged Julio isn’t pleasant. But the thought of gaining their respect so they stop walking all over me is.

  I ask him about the sexy selfie I took, the one he thought was Stacy.

  He says that after I told him it was me, he looked at it again. And that he masturbated to it that night. But he was so utterly exhausted that he fell asleep before he could finish.

 

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