by Leah Wilde
“Show me.”
Chapter 6
Micah
Well, I’ll be damned. The little girl with the pale grey eyes took me completely by surprise.
I’d dropped all pretense and gone straight for the jugular. I told her exactly what I was thinking, the god-honest truth. Some girls might have run away. Some would have shrugged and gotten to it. Her reaction was perfect, though, so different from anything I’d ever experienced. She’d gone from stunned to awed to eager in a matter of moments. If I was being honest, I’d undergone a weirdly similar process. The twinge in my chest that had grown stronger every second I spent talking to Paris was baffling, then it was overwhelming, and now, as the words I’d just said lingered in the air, it was transforming into a ravenous fucking monster. I wanted to tear this girl apart and make her moan and writhe. All because I knew that she wouldn’t break. She’d take it and beg for more. And I’d give it to her.
What the fuck was she doing to me?
Show me. Such simple words from a girl who was anything but. They were ballsy. Never before had two little words made me so rock hard that I damn near came on the spot.
We were past words now. Everything that needed to be said had been said, and the only thing left to do was pick this wild little angel up and take her to my room to see what she looked like naked on my bed.
I bent down and snatched a hungry kiss from her soft lips before spinning around, grabbing her hand, and striding across the room and down the hallway to where the door to the president’s room beckoned. I made short work of the lock, kicking the door open, then turned and yanked her into my embrace again.
Fuck, she tasted some kind of delicious. Soft and buttery, sweet, like warm honey on my tongue. And the way her body molded perfectly against mine was practically indescribable. The way a girl moved said everything about how she would be in bed, and every single step that I’d watched Paris take screamed with this unbelievable grace. She was so beautifully put together. I couldn’t wait to take her apart.
I picked her up, stepped over the threshold, and kicked the door closed behind me. In one swoop, I threw her on the bed. She hit the mattress with a soft moan and looked up at me patiently. The only thing in the whole goddamn world I wanted was to rip her clothes off without a second’s hesitation.
But I’d meant what I said. I wanted to take my time and make this last as long as I possibly could. I forced myself to stop in my tracks and just look at her. Starting at her feet, I traced my eyes up her body, taking in every detail. She watched me do it and waited.
Her feet were shapely and pale, tucked into the woven straps of her black heels. The painted toes gave way to rounded arches, and the sliver of an ankle before reaching the bottom hem of the leather jeans she wore. I looked over the contour of her calf, inch by painstaking inch. It was torture to make myself stand there, to go slow, but it was the best kind of torture ever invented. Hell, it would’ve broken a lesser man. But not me. I could survive this kind of beautiful pain.
Her knees, bent slightly, separated her calves from the slight swell of her thighs. Encased in the tight leather, they rose and met at her tiny waist. I licked my lips, salivating at the thought of running my tongue up to the crease in her hips and delving into her moist slit. I wanted to squeeze those thighs and slide my hands up under her shirt, which hung from her neck in loose folds. I could see the edge of her abdomen and the beginnings of her breasts peeking out on either side of the top. Her torso was as porcelain and petite as the rest of her. Then her shoulders, her thin neck, so vulnerable, the elegant line of her jaw.
That mouth was a dark maroon, smeared slightly from the force of my kiss. And those goddamn eyes. No one had eyes like that, no one but her. They were almost translucently grey, and as I looked at her, they flashed with a mix of emotion that I could empathize with. I was feeling the same way—torn between wanting something so badly and wondering how I could have ended up in this kind of a frenzy. Wondering whether it might be a bad idea.
But going for it anyway.
I took one step and then I was on top of her. I held the back of her head with one hand and slipped the other under the edge of her shirt to support the lower part of her spine. She was tiny and warm underneath me.
The waiting game was over and the tension had shattered completely. Now, it was a race to see how quickly we could shuck each other’s clothes off. I’d never been so angry at a leather jacket or my jeans before, but all of the sudden they’d became the worst inventions I’d ever come across, and I wanted them fucking gone. I felt the exact same way about her clothes. The sparkling top that had been so captivating just a moment ago was now the goddamn devil, and if it wasn’t off of her this instant, I was going to lose my mind. I gathered a bunch of it in one fist and yanked hard.
Paris yelped and seized my wrist between her thin fingers. “Careful!” she said in a breathy voice.
“Paris, babe,” I drawled, “if I don’t get this shit off of you, the world just might collapse.”
She exhaled, halfway between a moan and a giggle. What a sound. Angel music. Reaching a hand up behind her neck, she loosened a hidden knot there and the shirt came tumbling down. I tossed it aside and didn’t hesitate to slip my mouth down her neck and take one of her nipples in my mouth immediately.
She groaned and arched her back as I suckled at her. One of her hands encircled my neck while the other squeezed at the bedsheets and a soft “Oh” trickled between her lips. I started to work at the buttons of her pants, but the thing was too damn complex. I didn’t have enough patience to figure this shit out.
I released her nipple and, without looking up, growled, “Off.” One yank at the button was enough to coax another hoarse giggle from her. She took over, popping the button free and loosening the zipper as I returned to biting and licking at her breasts and the soft skin stretching across her collarbone.
As soon as she had loosened them, I tugged roughly at her jeans until they were halfway down her knees. For now, that would have to do. The light in the room was dim, but it was enough for me to see that she was wearing the tiniest, sheerest, laciest pair of panties I’d ever seen. They were damn near insubstantial. When I touched my finger delicately above her mound, I could feel her heat and wetness almost as perfectly as if they hadn’t been there at all.
“Micah…” she moaned.
I rubbed up and down a few times before deciding I was done with the panties, too. It was time for everything to go. I wanted this girl naked and I wanted it now. No army in the world could have dissuaded me from it.
I stood up and reached to finish tearing the pants off of her. She grabbed my wrist again. When she looked at me, her lips were half-parted and her eyes were glistening wildly. I felt my cock throb hard at the sight of her. Her fingers were so fragile and small, but she was squeezing at my forearms with surprising intensity.
“I want to see you first,” she said. She released my wrists and sat up on her elbows.
Slowly, I straightened up again. I stripped the jacket off of me slowly, letting it fall to the floor. Then, grabbing the bottom edges of my shirt in opposite hands, I pulled it over my head. The moonlight coming through the window hit my chest at a sideways angle, lighting up the peaks and valleys of the musculature across my torso. Each tattoo glimmered.
I paused and let her look at me. It had never meant all that much to me before to be strong. It was what it was—more functional than aesthetic. I was muscular because every now and then I had to beat some punk to a bloody pulp, not because I was interested in looking good for the girls. That was a nice side benefit at best.
But now, I stood in the moonlight and let her drink me in and the reaction it inspired was the last little bit I could stand. She looked at me with the purest desire I’d ever seen etched in her eyes like an ancient engraving. That did it.
“No more waiting,” I said. “I need you now. I need to know what you taste like, what you sound like, what you look like when you come.”
She whimpered wordlessly in response. I bent over and pulled the pants off of her.
“Stand up,” I ordered. I offered a hand toward her to help her off the bed and to her feet. She kept her gaze locked on me as she took it and rose.
Keeping her hand enfolded in mine, I raised it up over her head and turned her in a full revolution. One last moment of taking it all in. That ass, those tits, the perfect, peachy skin…how could any man resist her? How had she not been claimed already? Those were questions for another time.
When she had finished the pirouette and was facing me again, I reached out and grabbed her throat gently in my left hand. I pulled her to me and devoured her mouth while my right hand skittered down her torso, down the front of her panties, and touched the lips of her pussy.
She groaned into my mouth the second I made contact. I spread her wide open and found her clit. The slow circles I made were enough to keep those groans coming. Good. That was exactly what I wanted.
I moved my fingertips down a little further and found her opening. Inserting one finger slowly, I felt her expand to take me in. She was already slick with juices and it was easy to slip in one finger all the way to the core of her. I curled it against her inner wall and stroked against the rough patch of her g-spot. She responded by trembling in my arms. Beneath my palm, her throat quivered with pent-up moans.
I released both hands and shoved her back onto the bed. She barely had a moment to catch her breath before I fell on top of her, catching my weight with one hand planted on either side of her head. My dick was yearning at the zipper of my jeans as she laid her palms on my skin and explored my arms, my chest, my abs.
I rolled over, bringing her with me and sliding the panties off of her in one motion. She came to a position straddling me. The moonbeam hit her on the side of her face, casting eerie, beautiful shadows on the dark side of her nose and mouth. I didn’t wait to appreciate them; instead, I sat up and plunged my tongue back between her lips.
She moved slowly back and forth, grinding her bare wetness against the desperate bulge in my jeans. Her fingers found my belt and worked it free. She tugged it off of me and threw it behind her, then returned to unlatch the button of my jeans. When both that and the zipper had been dispatched, she reached inside and withdrew the length of my member.
I leaped to life in her hands, stiffening to half-attention. I pulled back to watch her mouth part even farther as she began to slowly stroke me with two hands. I hardened further, until I reached almost all the way up to her belly button. She looked at me with eyes both primal and afraid.
“I…I don’t think I can,” she said fearfully.
“We’ll go slow,” I told her. “Just like I said before. I want to take my time.”
She nodded as if she understood, but when she looked down at my manhood again, I could tell that she wasn’t convinced. It wasn’t something that could be explained, anyways. I knew she could take me. I would just have to show her.
I leaned forward again and kissed her gently, then I returned her to her back. I slithered with a wide warpath of kisses down her neck, across her breasts, and along her stomach, until I reached the fork in her legs and I could feel the heat rising from her cunt.
I held my mouth over her mound and exhaled deeply. The air rushed between my lips and over her opening. She shivered at its touch. I slid my hands from her knees, down the inside of her thighs, until I reached the point where they joined her hips. Pressing down with either palm, I urged her legs wider open, so that I could bend down and lay my tongue flat along her labia.
Her hands immediately scrambled for the back of my head. She followed the rise and fall of my neck as I began to lap gently at her pussy, mixing the long, slow tease of my tongue’s tip around the outer edges with furtive forays into the depths of her. I licked up to her clit and slurped at it. She tasted just how I’d imagined, a salty sweetness that defied logic but made me hungrier the more I savored it. My pace picked up and I forced her thighs down wider so that she was butterflied in front of me and I was running my tongue around her clit and pussy in a rapid circuit.
I went faster and faster. I felt her shaking under my hands and knew she wanted to come. I paused just long enough to look up at her and say, “Tell me when you’re going to come. I want to know.”
She kept her eyes wrenched closed but she nodded and moaned. I resumed licking, starting slowly, but I quickly ramped up. From the bottom of her slit up to her clit and back down again, leaving nothing untouched, bathing her in the heat of my breath and tongue, until she scrunched her whole body tight, bucking at the downward pressure of my hands pinning her to the mattress, and her mouth fluttered open to release the words, “Oh God, I’m coming.”
I clamped my mouth down on her pussy and let her writhe against me. She came in fits and starts, each limb shaking and seizing independently of the others. A beautiful cacophony of moans and whimpers danced between her lips. Her eyelids were squeezed shut and she held desperately onto the roots of my hair. It was fucking beautiful.
She was ready. When she had begun to calm down, I moved onto my knees angled my tip to her opening. Her eyes flickered back open and she fixed her grey stare on me. I was having trouble keeping my breath slow and even, maintaining my grip on myself to make sure I went about it carefully and gave this girl everything I wanted to give her.
“Be careful,” she said again.
I looked straight back at her. “Baby, careful is not in my vocabulary.”
With that, I slid into her.
Part of her wanted to cry out, but I entered so easily into her wetness and fit so perfectly that she knew it was meant to be like this. I had no idea where she came from or what she was doing when she showed up at my clubhouse, but I knew for a fact that this had been a long time coming. Even before we knew each other, this was in the cards for this girl and me. Knowing that was the only thing that kept me from exploding as soon as I buried myself to the hilt inside Paris. My hips came to a rest against hers. I bent over and touched our foreheads together while I began to withdraw and enter again, taking my time. It was as torturous to go slow as it had been to stand from afar and look at her, so as soon as I felt like she was ready, I picked up the speed.
Soon, I was thrusting in and out of her savagely. She gave as good as she got, jerking her hips up to meet each stroke and squeezing my neck between her hands. The sound of our thrusts colliding was a sharp, wet smack, echoing around the small room over and over again.
“Fucking hell,” I cursed under my breath. All my focus was on dragging this out, keeping this going. I wanted to fuck this girl forever.
I arranged her legs behind me and rolled over again. There was barely a pause in the proceedings. My hands fell to her hips and I helped her bounce up and down on my cock. I almost felt bad, impaling this tiny girl on my thick erection, but I knew by the tightness across her forehead and the slackness in her jaw that she was as overcome with the sensation as I was. Intermittent whines jolted out of her as she rode me like she’d been doing it her whole life. Her tits swayed above me. I caught one in my palm and squeezed. They were perky, full, and an impossibly pure cream color, especially as the moon shone across them.
I was getting close to the edge. Not much longer now before I busted. The fact that I’d made it this far, given how unreal the sex had been, was a goddamn miracle.
I dragged Paris down and laid her on her side, facing away from me. Pulling one leg up, I slid into her from behind. We rocked together back and forth as I encircled her with an arm around her waist and another underneath her neck. The heat of her body emanated along my front, but all I could focus on was the tightness of her pussy surrounding my cock, swallowing me and trying desperately to keep my length buried inside her.
My balls were clenching with fire eager to be unleashed. Just a little bit more, a few more strokes, that’s all I wanted. I’d kill men if it meant I could stay here, lingering on the edge with my cock inside Paris and her tiny body held
in my arms.
But then, despite my effort, I couldn’t hold on anymore. She couldn’t either, and we both let out protracted groans as hot cum shot into her tunnel and her body spasmed in my grasp. We came like fireworks in the night, bursting and sparkling until the lights went out.
We fell asleep like that—her curled into a ball and tucked against me, my cock steadfastly refusing to leave her.
It always was a stubborn bastard.
Chapter 7
Paris
Buzz, buzz.
I woke up groggily. The world looked like blurry blobs of color through my hangover and my sleep-crusted eyelids. I felt Micah stir behind me, but he didn’t wake up. What the hell was that buzzing? It was driving me crazy. My head hurt and my whole body was sore and weak.