A Serving of Forever

by Kane, Jessa

  “Oh, yeah. Me too,” I deadpan. “I was very strict about the very same thing with my designer.”

  “Oh.” Her mouth spreads into a smile. “Is that right?”

  “Uh-huh.” The old floorboards groan under my feet as I close the distance in between us, settling my hands on her hips and massaging them roughly. “Don’t take my word for it, though. Come see the bedroom yourself.”

  Pink suffuses her cheeks, her palms sliding up and over my pecs. “Is that where you plan to conduct your lesson?”

  Lesson.

  The word is like a sword twisting in my gut.

  She’s here for a lesson while I’m ready to book the church for our wedding.

  Have I already forgotten my plan to take this slowly?

  Yeah, I think I have. Somewhere in between watching her get excited over bodega coffee and kissing her in the Uber, I’ve dropped off the edge of a cliff and landed in a whole sea of love for Quinn. But I need to remember her feelings aren’t moving at the same pace as mine. They couldn’t be. It’s not possible. So I have to take it easy or I risk scaring her off.

  “That’s right,” I say, my voice sounding rusty. “Consider the bedroom my office.”

  “And that makes me the client?”

  “My fees are reasonable.” God, no one has ever made me smile like this woman. Even the reminder that she’s not in love with me yet does nothing to douse my pure enjoyment of being with Quinn. I marvel over the feel of her small hand in mine as I lead her to the bedroom, guide her inside and turn on a lamp. Thankfully this room is cleaner than the rest of the house and my dirty laundry is in the basement in piles, as opposed to the floor.

  Raw possessiveness rolls through me like a storm, seeing her this close to my bed. Having her scent mingle with mine. Visions flash through my head of waking up with her in this very room on Sunday mornings, gripping the headboard while she rides me all naked and rosy from sleep. Or tickling our children when they jump into the bed at sunrise. How am I going to pretend like this is a casual lesson when the future is so close I can touch it?

  Quinn is taking a turn around the room, the hem of her dress brushing my bed. She stops in front of my stack of sports autobiographies and runs a fingertip over the top cover, making my groan inwardly, wishing those fingers were wrapped around my dick.

  “So, um…” She finally turns to me, her apprehension obvious. “Where do we begin?”

  I guess I can’t just pin her to the bed and make love to her. I’ve promised a lesson and I need her to believe my offer was genuine, right? Otherwise she might start to think I just brought her to Queens to make her my wife and procreate. “Right, uh…” I cough into my fist. “Earlier, if I’d been inside you, that would have been called the missionary position. Do you know any other positions men and women use?”

  “Yes.” She nods eagerly, but her shoulders quickly slump. “No.”

  Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’re going to know them all real soon.

  “Would you like me to show you some of the positions?”

  Her tits rise and fall. “A-are you going to be inside me?”

  “Eventually. When you’re ready.” I take the hem of my shirt in my hands and lift the garment up over my head, tossing it toward the hamper. “You don’t mind if I get comfortable, do you, Quinn?”

  Quinn is not hearing me.

  She’s in a trance, ogling my torso and I thank God for downtime at the firehouse. The weight lifting must have paid off. I sneak a quick glance at myself in the full-length mirror hanging on my closet door and suck in my stomach a little. All right, fine. I’ll add a few more crunches to my routine. There’s nothing I can do about the tattoos, though, and I hope like hell she likes them. I’ve got fire department ink and tats that represent my family. They’re everywhere, winding up my ribcage and coloring my chest, my shoulders. Do they bother her?

  “I can put my shirt back on—”

  “Please, please, don’t.”

  A laugh sneaks up on me. “Okay.”

  She toes off her shoes and pads over, hesitating only a second before running her hands up my abdomen and chest. “You’re incredible.”

  My heart clogs my throat. “Sweetheart, nothing is as incredible as you.”

  Quinn’s eyes tick up to mine, thoughts whirling in their depths. What is she thinking? Before I can ask her out loud, she takes the bottom of her dress in her hands, takes it off and drops it on the floor. My growl shakes the windowpanes. Fuck, she is delicious, in her white panties, her dark hair long enough that the strands cover her bare tits. “Show me,” she whispers.

  What am I showing her again?

  My cock is demanding immediate satisfaction. How am I supposed to concentrate?

  “The positions,” she prompts me, her eyes serious.

  “Right.” I might be teaching her about sex, but this is also my chance to show Quinn I’m the man she’s looking for. The man she needs. Those thoughts flood me with motivation. “If you’ve got a man strong enough to lift you…” I scoop a forearm under her butt and boost her off the ground, swallowing a moan when she automatically wraps her legs around my waist. “You can fuck just like this,” I whisper, right against her mouth. I thrust my hips upward, grinding into the soft, hot cushion of her pussy. “Keep in mind the man has to be strong—”

  “Like you?” she gasps, her head falling back.

  “Like me.” I race my open mouth up her exposed throat, taking a bite of the skin beneath her ear. “Look in the mirror. So you can memorize what this looks like.”

  Her eyes are dazed, but she attempts to refocus them on me. “M-mirror?”

  “Yeah.” I turn to the side and nod at my closet where the mirror hangs, our images reflected back—and God almighty, the picture she makes, half naked, her tits bouncing with my upward drives, is the sexiest shit I’ve ever fucking seen. “See, a man like me, he can grip your tight, young ass in his hands…” I grab hold of her cheeks. “And he can work you up and down on his cock, tilting his hips just right, so he can hit that little sugar clit.”

  Her thighs start to tremble. “I l-like this position,” she says, her teeth chattering, her heels digging into my ass. “Can you keep showing me for a-a while? Please?”

  My future wife is already about to come, is she? Hell yeah.

  “Anything you want, sweetheart,” I mutter thickly, walking her toward the closest wall, but keeping us in view of the mirror. “Now, if you’re fucking standing up, you can always move to the wall and get more leverage. More friction.”

  “Friction?” she whimpers.

  “Uh-huh.” I flatten her between me and the wall, yanking her knees up higher and hooking them over my hips. “Look over my shoulder at the mirror, sweetheart. Watch me fuck you on the wall.” I graze her neck with my teeth and work my hips feverishly, the bulge of my fly bumping and grinding against the thin layer of her panties. “Bet that tight pussy would have me halfway to coming already.”

  “Desmond, Desmond, Oh my God.”

  Her pupils are expanding and she’s holding her breath, telling me she’s about to have an orgasm, but I don’t want this to be over. By the time I’m finished with Quinn here, I want there to be no doubt in her mind that I’m the only one who can satisfy her. Ever.

  “I think you’re ready to learn another position.”

  She makes a sound of protest, but I’m already dragging her off the wall. I walk us to a spot directly in front of the mirror, letting her whimper and grind on my dick for a few blissful seconds, before I settle Quinn on her feet and turn her around.

  “Christ, look at you.” I gather her hair in my fist, so her body is on full display. Those perked up nipples, the soaked, white triangle between her thighs, her swollen mouth and bright eyes. Breathtaking. She’s an angel and I’m not worthy, but I’d fight a hundred armies by myself to possess her. “Nothing I could say would do you justice, Quinn. You’re extraordinary.” I drop a rough bite onto her shoulder. “Now get down on your hands and k
nees so I can teach you the next part of your lesson.”

  “Yes, Desmond,” she breathes, her knees landing on the floor before I’m done issuing the command. Her swift, natural response to being ordered around seems to surprise even Quinn. Have I been given more insight into what revs her engine?

  I go down on my knees behind Quinn, taking a moment to appreciate her upturned ass, the way her white panties are sneaking into the shadowed crevice at the center. Leaning down, I bite each of her cheeks, then the small of her back, before tugging her butt flush to my lap and giving her a hard punch of my hips. There we are in the mirror, a big, inked beast of a man taking a dainty uptown girl from behind, her eyes wide to see what’ll happen next.

  “Now I wouldn’t fuck you on all fours like this, unless I’d licked your pussy first. And sweetheart, I’d lick it day and night, so you’d get comfortable on your knees really quick.” I gather her hair in my fist and pull her head back, pointing her bee-stung lips at the ceiling. “A cock can get in good and deep in this position. It can fill your cunt and make you scream for Jesus, but it’s gotta be big. Like mine.”

  I hit her with a series of thrusts and she moans loudly. Hell, I’m moaning, too, watching her bouncy tits jiggle up and down in the mirror.

  “You feel how huge I am, goddammit?”

  “Yes!”

  I backhand her ass, once, twice. “That’s what you need, isn’t it? A fat cock stuffed inside that wet, little virgin hole. They don’t make them bigger than mine.”

  “Yes. Yes. Desmond, please.” Her knees slide wider and she arches her back, her body trembling like a leaf. “I want to feel the real thing.”

  Victory courses through my veins, but it’s no match for the potency of my lust. My need for Quinn. Only Quinn. Forever. “What did I say about taking you on all fours. What do I get to lick first? Say it. Show it to me.”

  “M-my…” Her voice falls to a whisper. “My pussy.”

  Need almost knocks me out, hearing her say that word with a tremble in her voice is so sexy. My hands move on their own, flipping Quinn onto her back. I drag the sodden panties down her thighs and fall on her cunt like it’s my deliverance. I kiss the split of her sex hard, coaxing her folds open with my tongue. Her legs are shy, trying to close, but I hold them open and swipe at her clit with the tip of my tongue—and there we go, her thighs spring open like the gates to heaven, her shocked whimper filling the bedroom.

  “Desmond!” Her fingers burrow in my hair, pushing me away and yanking me close at the same time, her female flesh quivering on my tongue. “M-more. More.”

  This woman begging me for more is the sweetest sound my ears have ever heard, and my soul won’t allow me to let her down. I reach up and mold her left tit in my palm, my lips closing around her sensitive nub and rubbing side to side. Her cries grow more and more throaty when I bring my tongue back into the mix, lapping at her clit, hitting it with quick, little strokes that make her thighs pinwheel around my head. Pinching her nipple lightly between my knuckles, I drag my tongue downward through her warm, wet flesh and tease the entrance to her cunt, circling around it again and again, before tucking inside.

  I can feel the eruption building inside of her.

  Her hips jerk off the floor, twisting, and I pin them down with a growl, fucking her virgin pussy with my tongue. I love playing with her tits, but I know what she needs right now, so I bring my fingers down between her thighs and stroke her clit while my tongue continues to breach her slick little entrance, over and over.

  “Desmond, oh. Oh. Oh my God.” Her legs tighten up, her toes digging into the breadth of my back and she jolts violently, her scream piercing the air. “Yes!”

  “Ahhhh fuck,” I groan, licking her like a depraved animal, my hips pumping against the carpet. There is nothing on this planet like the taste of her pleasure. It’s honey from the sweetest flower and I rush to get all of it on my tongue, not allowing a single drop to escape. Finally, she goes boneless on the ground, a fine sheen of dew making her skin glow. “I should wait for you to recover, but I need to fuck you now, sweetheart. Now,” I growl, climbing on top of her and unzipping my pants. “Just let me. Just let me,” I pant. “God forgive me, I’m going to smash that motherfucking cherry—”

  “Hello?” A voice comes from out in the living room, followed by the closing of my front door. “Des? You here?”

  No. No, it can’t be my sister.

  “Where you hiding the girl?”

  Jesus, it’s both of them.

  “Yeah, bring her out! We want to meet her.”

  “Same way you met our boyfriends.”

  They cackle in unison, the sound an embodiment of sisterly evil.

  I drop down onto Quinn’s now-alert body with a curse. Apparently nominating me for the baking show wasn’t enough payback for years of torturing their boyfriends.

  This. This is the real payback.

  And with everything still up in the air with Quinn, I’m suddenly regretting every single thing I ever did to make my sisters crazy…

  6

  Quinn

  I feel like I’ve been through the spin cycle.

  My brain cells are scattered in different directions and my limbs are made of licorice. That was…that was…

  Life altering.

  His mouth did that. By licking my…

  I can’t even say it in my head, but another wave of delight passes through me and I wonder if I can faint if I’m already lying down.

  Get up.

  I have to get up.

  The last thing I want is for Desmond’s sisters to walk into this room and find me spread eagle with their brother on top of me. The first time I meet them, I want to have my wits about me and a nice, pre-planned outfit. I want time to prepare.

  When did I start believing that meeting Desmond’s family was a given?

  It’s not, is it?

  He lifts his head and scans my face now, his jaw tight with irritation and…panic? Fear? It’s hard to tell, but it furthers my unease. Is he irritated because he never planned on introducing me to his sisters? Or because they interrupted us?

  Sex lessons are hard.

  So is falling for a man and having no idea if he feels the same.

  Fine, so he took the lesson pretty seriously and my heart tells me I’m not the only one reeling from this connection between us. It’s not only physical, it’s mental, and the idea that I could be training for someone else is utterly laughable. But what if Desmond is only interested in sex? He hasn’t really hinted otherwise, has he?

  We have no time to discuss our possible relationship now because Melissa and Steph are calling to us from the living room and obviously aren’t going to leave until we make an appearance.

  “I’m so sorry,” Desmond groans, shaking his head and dropping it onto my belly. “Jesus. I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “It’s okay,” I say slowly, pushing a limp strand of hair out of my eye. “Um…well, I guess we should get dressed?”

  “That’s a very sad thing that just came out of your mouth.”

  I giggle despite my jumbled nerves. “They can’t be all that bad.”

  He laughs without humor. “They eat people alive.”

  “Yes, but I’ve had some experience with people eaters. You met my mother.”

  Desmond kisses my belly, his beard chafing the sensitive skin and sending tingles down to my toes. “I could barricade the door.”

  Again, I worry he’s not serious about me and therefore hesitant to introduce me to the important people in his life. I’ll never know unless I ask. Normally, I would never be so bold as to question a man’s intentions before he volunteers them, but I’m feeling kind of…assertive at the moment. “Um. Desmond…are we—”

  “All right, we’re coming in!” shouts one of the sisters. “Cover your privates!”

  Desmond lunges to his feet and locks the door at the last minute, backing away from the jigging door handle. I stand as well, with a serious effort
because my legs are still wobbly, rearranging my dress and smoothing my hair. “I’m ready.”

  His eyes scanning me head to toe. “You’re wearing that orgasm like a second skin, but I guess we can’t do anything about that.”

  I sigh. “No, you can’t un-orgasm me.”

  He’s silent a moment. “I don’t want to hear another word about you lacking confidence. You’re funny. You’re kind. Talented. Beautiful. I’m lucky as hell you even came home with me.” He unlocks the door with a groan. “And I’m sorry about this.”

  Turns out, he was not exaggerating about his sisters. When we walk out into the living room, they regard me the way I Iook at crab legs when they’re in season. Thanks to the television lighting, I only saw the barest outline of them in the crowd this morning. They are both tall, brunette, nearly identical, but one of them has a sleeve of tattoos and the other is dressed on the conservative side, giving me a glimpse into their personalities.

  “Quinn, allow me to introduce Melissa and Steph.” He gestures to his sisters as he says their names, letting me know the one with tattoos is Steph. “We share parents, I’m told.”

  “Hello,” I say, holding out my hand. “I’m Quinn—”

  “Oh, we know who you are,” Steph interrupts, circling behind me slowly. “We Googled you on the way home.”

  My eyebrows go up. “That must have been very boring.”

  “You’re the opposite of boring,” Desmond growls, throwing an arm around my shoulder and tucking me into his side, kissing my temple hard. “Enough of that.”

  For some reason, the gesture sends Melissa’s jaw dropping to the floor. “Uh-oh, sis. You seeing this?”

  “I’m seeing it.”

  Melissa laughs. “This is going to be fun.”

  “You read my mind,” Steph says, turning to her brother. “Des, can you make us some coffee?”

  He snorts. “You know where I keep everything.”

  Steph sucks her teeth at him. “You don’t want Quinn to think you’re a bad host, do you?”

  A groove forms between his brows. “No, I don’t want that…” Reluctantly, he drops his arms from around my shoulders. “If you upset her, I’ll tell Mom what your crazy asses really got up to on prom night.”