How to Misbehave (Short Story)

by Ruthie Knox

  “Say it.”

  There was that cocky smile again. That Crest gleam, with its dirty subtext.

  “To fuck me.”

  Lust fired up between her legs, just like that. Amazing, what those four little letters could do. She supposed she’d always known. Why else had she avoided swearing, once she’d given up on the whole notion of keeping her soul immaculate?

  But she hadn’t understood that the power cut more than one way. It could be sexy to talk like this. Liberating.

  “To fuck me,” she said again, and this time she watched that hard k light a fuse in his eyes. “I thought you planned to fuck me and then leave me a weeping mess.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  But his eyes were too kind, too warm. He wasn’t that sort of man. Not for her, anyway.

  He reached for her waist, his hand a clamp, stronger than her own grip could ever hope to be.

  He liked her. She thought maybe he liked her just as much as she liked him, and he didn’t know what to do about it. She didn’t know what to do about it, either, except to keep fumbling forward and see what happened.

  Maybe it wasn’t the right thing.

  They would find out together.

  She stepped closer and placed her palm flat against his chest. It rose with his deep inhale.

  His fingers tightened at the top of her thigh. When he spoke, the teasing tone was gone. “You sure you want this, Amber? With me? I don’t want to be the guy who finishes off the job of wrecking sex for you.”

  “You won’t.” She smoothed her hands over his shoulders, running her thumbs up his neck. So tense. “Do you—do you still want to do this?”

  His eyes dropped to the tuck in her towel. “If you’re sure.”

  “You did say you would teach me how to misbehave.” She lifted his hand to the center of her chest. “So teach me.”

  “I brought a condom up from the truck.”

  “I have some in the bathroom.”

  “All right, then.” He stroked his hand over her collarbone, then let it drop away. Rising, he grabbed a handful of shirt behind his head and pulled it off in one quick shucking motion.

  Holy mackerel.

  In a photograph, he’d be beefcake—bigger and more chiseled than any man she’d ever seen shirtless, bigger even than she might have thought she wanted, if she hadn’t already wanted him so much.

  But the reality of him was so much better, so much more than the way he looked. The heat of his skin. The smell of his body, like rain and soap and sweat. The rise and fall of his chest.

  He was beautiful and real. Not a body, flat in two dimensions, but a heart, a soul, a mind. All here because he wanted to be with her as much as she wanted to be with him.

  Awe rose inside her, pushed tears into her eyes and made her breath catch.

  Tony gripped her wrists and pulled her hands to the flat of his stomach, just above his belt buckle. “Touch me.”

  She couldn’t quite believe she had permission, but she took it, gladly. She moved her hands off his belt onto his stomach, letting her knuckles drift lightly over all the shapes of him. The ridges of his abs, the swells of his pectoral muscles, his tight shoulders and the dip between bicep and elbow. Forearms and hands. He closed his eyes, and she shaped him, wanting a physical knowledge to match the pictures in her mind.

  Not just a body. Tony’s body.

  “You feel amazing,” she said.

  “You’re killing me.”

  She glanced at the front of his jeans. Whoa.

  Her hands skimmed down to his belt buckle, and she worked the leather loose from the loop slowly, allowing her fingers to brush against the ridge of his erection.

  Hard.

  She traced the shape of him with one finger, and he sucked in a deep inhalation through his nose.

  “So big,” she said.

  A strained smile. “Music to my ears.”

  Amber palmed him. So hard. “What do you call it?”

  “Honey, if you don’t know what it’s called—”

  He stopped talking when she stroked up and down, and she watched the pleasurable agony overtake him, barely able to believe she had this much power. “I want to know what you call it.”

  “My dick, I guess.”

  “Is that what you want me to call it?”

  A light squeeze, and his eyes closed. He looked like he was dying. “No,” he gasped. “I want you to say ‘cock.’ ”

  A more forbidden word. She should have guessed. The more forbidden it was, the more pleasure he got from coaxing her into the transgression.

  “So if I say I want to touch your cock …”

  He groaned.

  “Or that I want your cock inside me—”

  He thrust into her hand, a quick, sharp motion that matched the escalation in his breathing.

  “—that turns you on?”

  “You have no idea.”

  He sounded terrible and wonderful. A torture victim.

  “Give me a little credit. I have some idea. I do understand that if I tell you I want your cock in my mouth, you’ll probably—”

  He knocked her hand away, and the towel came off, and his lips came down on hers, hard.

  She stumbled into the kiss, unsure how to respond to the urgency she felt in him. His tongue slicked over her lip, asking for entry, and when she opened her mouth his hand came up to cup her face, and he poured all the desire she’d made him feel back into her. It was like that, like being drenched in longing, one sudden, shocking wave of need that knocked into her and made all her muscles weak, so she had to cling to his arms and try to remember to breathe.

  He touched her everywhere he could reach, her hip, her waist, her breast, her butt, while his other hand anchored her in place, steady and practiced in the way he used it to angle her head where he wanted it, to push the kiss deeper, darker.

  His thumb brushed over her nipple, eliciting a brazen pulse directly between her legs.

  She couldn’t stand up. Not when she was drowning like this.

  When she started to sink toward the floor, his arm came around her waist, and he lifted her up and deposited her on the bed. Somehow her hands had found his head and the back of his neck; her fingers speared in his hair to hold him close. She didn’t want him to stop kissing her. When he tried to pull away, she made a mewling sound of dismay.

  “Just for a second. I need to get my pants off, or it won’t be very comfortable to have me lying on top of you.”

  She released him and watched as he unzipped his pants and pushed them off, along with whatever he’d been wearing underneath.

  And then she just stared.

  It was so much … ruder than she’d been prepared for. Big and hard, jutting out from between his legs, purplish and swollen.

  She’d seen them before, of course. Twice. But Tony’s was not—

  Tony’s was—

  Even her brain started to stutter.

  “Bunny?”

  “Don’t call me ‘bunny,’ ” she said, and her mouth felt like it was full of cotton.

  He sat down on the bed, then stretched out beside her.

  “You look like a bunny right now. You look like you think I might beat you to death with it.”

  “It does kind of have a … cudgel-like look about it.”

  “There you go again with the big words.”

  “ ‘Cudgel’? It’s only two syllables.”

  She was still staring at it. He scooted closer, and it brushed against her thigh.

  So hot, and silky smooth.

  “What’s a cudgel, like a club?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s a new one.”

  “Sorry. It’s not that I don’t, uh— It’s just that I wasn’t ready.”

  When he shifted again, his thigh moved between hers, and the whole hot length of him pressed against her hip.

  Not like a cudgel at all. Like … like wanting, if it had a shape.

  “I’ll make sure you’re ready,” he
said gently. “And then I’m gonna make you beg me.”

  “Oh, good,” she whispered, before his mouth came down on hers again.

  Chapter Nine

  Amber kissed like two different women—confident and sensual one moment, shy and uncertain the next. When he skimmed his palm over her nipple, her lips parted and her knees came up. But when he took the invitation and moved his hand to her thigh, she squeezed her legs back together.

  This was going to take some time.

  Tony didn’t mind. He was a guy—he’d take sex just about any way he could get it. Fast and rough was hot. But so was slow, especially the first time. If it took hours to get Amber figured out, that was fine with him.

  Though he might need a two-minute break to jerk off in the bathroom if she kept talking dirty to him. The word cock on her lips got him so hard it hurt.

  For now, he just stuck to kissing her and let her do what she wanted with her hands. Those tentative fingers grew bolder, stroking up his back, then stopping just above his ass because she wasn’t quite brave enough to touch him there yet.

  He propped himself on one elbow and let her play, knowing she needed this. Needed time to get used to his body and to adjust to the idea of him inside her.

  When she finally worked up the nerve to slip her hands down over his ass and tug him up harder against her thigh, Tony figured she was ready for a little more. Which was good, because he was dying to get his hands on her.

  He let them go where they would, never lingering long anywhere. Just getting her used to it, letting her adjust to the idea that he could touch her wherever he wanted. That she belonged to him, at least for tonight.

  She felt even better than she looked, which was saying something. She was all contrasts—long, lean limbs from running or working out or whatever she did to stay in such great shape, but soft belly, soft breasts, soft between her thighs and along her neck and between her legs.

  And wet, too. She might be nervous, but she wanted him.

  He let his fingers drift along her inner thigh, trace the shape of her pussy, tease at her clit. Her hips rose off the bed.

  “Tell me what you like,” he said. “That’s how we get good at this.”

  Then he started exploring again, this time with his mouth.

  He kissed her neck, her collarbone, her breasts. He licked her nipple, sucked it, bit it gently, and then, when that made her rock up against him, bit it hard. Her hand slapped down on his shoulder, a reprimand she didn’t mean, because her slickness arched up into his thigh, and afterward she relaxed a little more.

  Good to know. Someday, Amber might like it rougher. A little biting, some spanking …

  But not with him. He shut down that line of thought.

  He worked over her breasts with his mouth, his hands. Her little muffled moans and sighs told him she was getting lost in sensation. Not a bad thing, but he was going to need her help to get her all the way there. He liked sex, he paid attention, but he wasn’t Houdini. He didn’t have any magic way of guessing what was going to get her past her stage fright.

  When his hand slipped between her thighs, she parted them, and he stroked his fingers over her folds. So wet. Her body was ready—it was only her mind that hesitated. And no wonder. Jesus. Her first experiments with sex sounded like a fucking nightmare. He was glad she’d told him, but holy crap.

  He put his mouth on her stomach, enjoying the way she wiggled and squirmed, not yet quite sure what to do with the need chasing its way through her. His fingertip found her clit with a glancing touch, and she rose off the bed, ready for more. “Tony,” she said.

  He loved the way she said his name.

  He slid one finger inside her, then swept it over her clit, a firmer touch this time. She’d liked this before, and she seemed to like it even more now, judging by the way her breathing shallowed out. He added another finger and moved his mouth lower. Lower.

  Amber finally figured out where he was going. She sat up, fast.

  “You can’t do that.”

  Tony pressed his fingers into her and his thumb against her clit, and her eyes just about rolled back into her head.

  “Why not?”

  “It’s not— I’m not—” She tossed her hands up, a helpless little gesture that said, Rescue me.

  “Amber.” Another quick pulse over her clit, and another low moan. “I’m putting my mouth on you now. I’m going to taste and lick and suck you, and I might even bite, and you’re gonna tell me what you like and what you don’t like so we can get you where you want to go.”

  “But what about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “You don’t want to be … down there.”

  He grinned. “I would hang out down here all fucking day if I could. I would move in down here. Buy a couch.”

  She smiled, but the worry lines in her forehead didn’t go away.

  “Lie down,” he said. “This is gonna be fun. I promise.”

  She did what he said, but every muscle in her body told him she didn’t believe him, didn’t trust that this was a good idea.

  So he took it slowly. He took it just as slowly as he could stand to take it, kissing and licking and nibbling and sucking, with slow thrusts of his fingers inside her. She didn’t talk, but he paid attention, and after a while she started to loosen up again. Her hands fisted in the sheets. Her eyes closed.

  “Tony,” she whispered.

  “Yeah?”

  “That feels good.”

  “Good. Keep talking to me.”

  He pressed his finger along the front wall of her channel, looking for her G-spot, and when she bucked about a foot off the bed, he figured he’d found it.

  “That!” she said. “I like that.”

  He worked her clit, worked that spot until she was straining off the mattress, tossing her head from side to side. Just fucking desperate to come.

  But she didn’t, and he didn’t know how to push her over the edge.

  “Tony,” she pleaded. “I need …”

  “Tell me what you need.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “All right. We’ll figure it out.”

  He left his fingers inside her and moved his mouth back to her nipple, sucking hard. “Oh my gosh,” she said.

  “Oh my God. When you’re in bed with me, you say ‘Oh my God.’ ”

  Amber smiled, radiant as an angel. “Oh my God, that feels fucking amazing.”

  “That’s my girl. You tell me what to do.”

  He put his mouth back on her breast, licking and teasing until she spoke up and said, “Harder.” When he sucked, she said, “Can you … Will you bite me again? Not too hard?”

  So he nipped her, and she tossed her head back and moaned. “Holy shit. Why do I like that?”

  “Don’t worry about the why. Get out of your head and focus on the way it feels.”

  He found a rhythm, and she chased it with her hips.

  “Tony, I want …”

  “Tell me.”

  “I want your mouth again.”

  “You want me to go down on you.”

  “I do.”

  He was already moving in that direction, but he pushed her anyway. “Say it.”

  “I want you to go down on me.”

  “Good girl.”

  This time she opened wide for him, and he flicked his tongue over her clit and worked her with his fingers until she was moaning his name, over and over. “Tony, I want to come.”

  “I know you do, honey. What do you need?”

  “I need you.”

  “You’ve got me.”

  “I need—I need you inside me.”

  “You want my cock?”

  “I want your cock.”

  No man in the history of the world had ever gotten a condom on faster. He practically leapt off the bed to retrieve it from his pants and then tore the package open with his teeth, rolling the condom on at lightning speed. He was about to push into her when he caught the look in her eyes and sto
pped.

  “Cudgel,” she said.

  “Right. Baby, I promise, I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “I know. I need you. I’m just scared.”

  “We’ll go slow.”

  He went as slow as he could bear, nudging his crown inside her on the first thrust and sinking deeper slowly, slowly, until he was shaking with it and she was rubbing her hands up and down his arms.

  “Oh, wow. Tony. Wow.”

  He sank deeper, gritting his teeth. “You like that?”

  When he finally got all the way in, she was clamped so tight around him, he thought he might die from it.

  “It’s incredible.”

  “Tell me how it feels.”

  “Huge.”

  He laughed, collapsing on top of her so his face was buried in her wet, flowery-smelling hair. “You’re good for my ego, honey.”

  She was smiling, too, beaming at him when he propped himself up on his elbows again. “It feels good. I mean … I want you to do something with it, but I like having you … inside me.”

  “You love my giant cock.”

  He said it as a joke, and she laughed and wrapped her hands around the back of his neck to pull his forehead right up against hers. She kissed him on the mouth, soft and sweet. “Yes. I love your giant cock.”

  “Can I move now?”

  “Please.”

  So he rocked against her, and pleasure fanned over her face. He withdrew a few inches and thrust. She closed her eyes, inhaling through her nose.

  On the third thrust, the iron bedstead banged into the wall, and Amber said, “Oh!”

  “You want me to get the bed away from the wall?”

  She shook her head. “Are you kidding me? Do that again.”

  He did it again. Then again. Bang. Again. Bang.

  After that, Tony kind of lost the thread.

  She felt so fucking good. Tight and hot, crazy-wet, soft and welcoming and just … just so real. No fake fingernails or fake bravado or fake sighs to make him think he was doing anything to her that he wasn’t. Just her body, the smell of sex on her skin, the way she closed her eyes when he made her feel something new but then opened them again and focused on his face as though she didn’t want to miss anything.

  He didn’t want to miss anything, either, and he wasn’t used to being this tuned in. He had no experience with a woman who watched him with wide eyes that seemed to see everything, to see right inside him.