by K. L. Kreig
“Give in to pleasure. Give in to me, baby. Admit you’re soaked for me.” I’m practically begging her to end our mutual torture when she finally fully submits.
“It’s for you,” she says on a light whisper. “You.”
Thank fucking Christ.
I waste no time withdrawing my fingers and ripping the flimsy material from her hips. Dropping to my knees, I spread her dripping lips and dive in head first. Low curses fall between licks of my new drug of choice. I’m an instant addict. Plunging two wet digits into her tight heat, my mouth latches on to her clit and sucks.
Hard.
My scalp stings as I register her fingers are now wrapped in my hair. She holds me to her for support as her legs begin to shake. Seconds later she shatters on a loud keen, her pussy riding my face with wildness like she did my hand just seconds ago. I don’t let up, forcing her to give me two more orgasms in quick succession before I gradually let her float back to earth.
Fucking hell.
A strange sensation has settled in my chest. I’ve never wanted to be inside of a woman more than I do Addy Monroe. While I’ve pleasured my lovers in the past, in the end, it was always about me. It was my way to get off. It was my need to sate. It wasn’t about my partner.
I already know this is different. This is more than just fucking.
For the first time ever, I want to think about someone else. I want this night to be all about Addy. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll get off, but the entire time I’ll be focusing on giving her the greatest pleasure she’s ever known.
Everything will be with her in mind.
As I stand, I feather tiny kisses all the way up her torso. Reaching behind, I deftly undo the clasp of her bra, immediately drawing a hard pink nipple into my mouth when the fabric falls. I suck and bite, moving from one amazing tit to the other. Every part of her tastes incredible. Addy’s hands are in my hair again, her back arching. She mumbles incoherently as she strains to get closer to me.
I can relate.
Unable to wait any longer, I pick her up. “Wrap your legs around me, baby,” I coax softly. This time, she easily complies without lip or hesitation.
Pressing kisses all over her face as I walk with Addy in my arms through the apartment back to my bedroom, I’m fully aware of three things.
One: This will be the first time I’ve ever made love to a woman in my entire thirty years.
Two: This coupling will unequivocally be life changing.
Three: There’s no going back. She’s mine now.
Chapter 15
As Luke carries me down the hallway, my orgasmic fog begins to fade, panic quickly filling the barren space. I thought I could hold out ’til month’s end before I gave up the goodies? My God…I’ve made it little more than a week. I’m completely shameless. I haven’t had sex in over eight months and within eight days of living with my infuriating roomie, and fresh off the heels of a date with a genuinely nice man, I’m going to let Luke fuck me blind. My sanity was clearly left in a messy ball on the kitchen counter, along with my dress. Or maybe it’s still by the door, along with my purse. All I know is it’s long gone and I’m not looking for it.
Once in his room, he lays me gently on his king-sized bed. Standing, his intense stare never leaves mine. Instead of the smugness I expect to find, all I see now are promises.
They’re confusing.
They’re thrilling.
They’re intoxicating.
They lure me in, making me believe they’re real, making me believe there could be an us. But I know they’re all false. These promises ride on the coattails of the powerful and inebriating pheromones he’s emitting. It’s a heady bouquet that erases your logic, makes you bend to its sinful will. Yearn for more.
Submit.
I should be disgusted with my surrender, and somewhere deep down I know I will be tomorrow, but all I can do is stare in flat-out awe as Luke reaches behind and grabs the neck of his black Ducati tee, pulling it over his head. It lands on the carpeted floor with a whisper, the only noise in the room outside of our heavy breathing.
I feel like a voyeur as I drink in the sight of his deft fingers. Only moments ago they were working me; now they’re working the button and zipper of his jeans. When he drops them to the floor, the air suddenly becomes thin.
Commando. So fucking hot.
Luke now proudly stands in front of me, buck-ass naked. Naked. As in…not one stitch of clothing. You don’t understand…this is something I’ve fantasized about thousands of times over the years, only you can’t possibly envision something that’s unimaginable.
Sweet.
Baby.
Jesus.
Luke Colloway is pure, untainted, masculine perfection. He exudes male dominance and power. He’s a work of art that would sell for millions of dollars if he were painted onto a canvas. His ink tells a story; he’s hung like a prize bull and his finely honed, rippled body begs me to trace each corded muscle with my tongue to make sure they’re real. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but I could snap one of Luke right now and there’s only one word that would repeatedly come to mind whenever I looked at it.
Fuuuck.
The three orgasms Luke wrung like an expert from my body earlier should have sated me, yet desire stirs again deep in my core. My sex aches to be filled with this man and this man only.
“Now who’s looking like they want to eat something?” he drawls. That damn drawl. That damn, sexy drawl would wet my panties if I had any on.
Light spills into the darkened room from the hallway, so I can’t see the intricacies of Luke the way I want. I need hours to trace every tat, exploring their details, but I begrudgingly drag my gaze back to his heated one. Only for a moment, though, because he fists his impressive shaft, slowly pumping back and forth. On the third pass, he swipes his thumb over the angry, swollen head, massaging the milky pre-cum into his dark pink skin.
“God,” I whimper on a breathless moan. My tongue darts out to wet my lips.
Whatever reservations I have crumble the second Luke’s fervent groan reaches my ears. Fuck it. I’ll worry about how I’m going to live just as roommates again tomorrow. Tonight…I want him and I’m tired of denying myself any longer.
I feel like I’m diving headfirst into the shallow end of the pool. There are warning signs posted everywhere, but I ignore them, taking the dangerous plunge anyway, praying I don’t hit bottom, ending up paralyzed.
Coming to my knees, I crawl to the end of the bed, where Luke is clearly waiting for me to make the next move. His watchful gaze is filled with raw hunger and barely leashed anticipation. He’s restraining himself…for me, and I can’t help the little bit of myself that falls harder for this magnificent man in front of me.
Batting his hand away, I take his cock in my own. I never break eye contact as I lean down, running my tongue from the base of his shaft all the way to the tip. I circle his glans slowly before taking him fully into my mouth. On a growl, his hooded eyes drift shut briefly before reconnecting with mine. The need I see in them strips me raw.
“Addy, Jesus Christ.” His thick voice drips with desire. I increase my pressure and pace, gently fondling his balls. I listen to the change in his breathing and the tightening of his fingers in my hair, telling me exactly what he likes.
I want to suck him to completion. I want to work his body into a frenzy the way he did mine. I want my mouth to bring this arrogant man to a state of vulnerability he’ll only show to me. I also selfishly want to feel him thrusting into my needy, empty sex.
He must feel the same, because his hands cradle my head, pulling me off his cock with a pop and up to his waiting mouth. Fire spreads from where our lips and tongues frantically meet in roaring, uncontrollable waves throughout my blood: a match set to dry kindling. As our bodies fall back onto the soft mattress, he throws one arm out to keep his heavy weight from crushing me.
“Fuck, Addy. I’ve been desperate to feel your pussy around my cock.”
His lips aggressively attack my face, my neck, my breasts. His heavy cock pulses enticingly against my inner thigh. He bites my nipple so hard, I gasp, writhing in both exquisite pleasure and blissful pain. Holy hell…I knew he could deliver on his promise.
“Yes,” I beg. “Please, Luke.”
“Do you ache as much as I do?” he mutters against my naked and heated flesh, his sharp teeth nipping a blazing trail down my abdomen.
“More,” I admit softly. He has no clue how long I’ve fantasized about this moment. Over ten long years.
In one quick motion, Luke pushes himself to his knees and freezes. His hazels are alight with desire and longing and we stay in suspension like this for several moments.
Then, in a completely unexpected move, he brings a finger to the middle of my forehead and lightly feathers it down the curve of my face, cascading the side of my throat. He watches his movements as he descends between the valley of my breasts, running along the underside of one before circling the outer ring of my areola, careful to avoid my beaded nipple. He does the same to the other before continuing his path downward.
He’s slow.
Methodical.
I am completely enthralled in his reverent, purposeful exploration.
My eyes want to drift shut in ecstasy, but I don’t let them. I can’t look away. No one has ever done anything like this to me before, preferring to get to the main course immediately instead.
After a detour dipping into my belly button, he finally reaches my waxed mound. Goose bumps erupt all over when he begins to draw tiny circles. He moves slowly from one side to the other, coming close, although never breaching my slit. His attention stays glued to his thorough inspection.
I’m hardly breathing. My nipples tingle. My sex feels emptier than it ever has. I feel both exposed and embraced. This is an intimate moment, just like last week in Livia’s kitchen, and I’m struggling to wrap my brain around this Luke. The real one he doesn’t let many people see.
After what seems like hours, when he lifts his heavy gaze to mine, I fight to catch my breath and stop the sting I feel building behind my lids.
He looks awestruck.
“Addy,” he breathes. My slowly drawn out, softly spoken name is full of adoration that destroys me. “I have never met anyone like you. I want you. More than I’ve ever wanted another woman.”
Oh God.
“Then take me. Please.” Take me now so I can escape back to my room before I fall completely in love with this romantic, attentive Luke. It’s too late, my inner self whispers. It’s too fucking late.
As if cattle-prodded, Luke moves into action. Retrieving a strip of condoms from his nightstand, he tears one off, rips it open, and sheathes himself in record time. I try not to think about how much experience he has doing that.
Leaning his back against the headboard, he pulls me astride him, lining up his thick cock with my weeping opening. “This okay?” he asks. I swallow hard, nodding my head.
Stop it! I want to scream. Stop acting as if this means something more to you than conquering that girl who refused you months ago. I probably tarnished his perfect record and it’s been a mocking blow to his ego ever since.
“I want to watch your pussy swallow my cock,” he rasps thickly. He grasps my hips and lowers his eyes to where I hover. For the sake of my own sanity and keeping my heart in one piece, I push everything but the pleasure he’s about to give my body to the back of my mind.
“Hands on my thighs,” he commands.
I quickly move them back and balance myself, which opens my hips further, exposing me even more. I start to sink, when his grasp tightens, halting my movements.
“Slowly, fireball.”
My eyes flick to his, which are still fastened intently on our groins. I watch his face as I lower myself inch by inch, ignoring the fire now burning my thighs in favor of the one now scorching my core and the one I see tightening his features in excruciating pleasure. Each low, agonizing curse that falls from his perfect mouth sets the blaze higher and hotter.
When he’s fully seated, I hear him curse as my head falls back at the pure ecstasy I feel in the very center of my being.
My God, he’s massive. He’s thick.
He’s perfect.
So damn perfect. Too perfect.
“Luke…” I gasp as I start rolling my hips slowly. My hands are behind me on his muscular legs for leverage. I can just imagine what I must look like with my breasts jutted out, my head thrown back, and my hips undulating in a slow cadence.
“So right,” he grates. “Addy, you’re fucking perfection.”
His fingers dig into my hips, controlling my pace, controlling his depth. Controlling, period. In this position, I should be in control, but I’m not. Luke gave me that illusion, easily winning the reins back from me. Or I simply succumbed; I’m not sure which or that it even matters.
“You’re a goddess. So fucking beautiful,” he mumbles right before pulling me to his mouth, thrusting his tongue between my lips. His kiss is slow; it’s deep and drugging. Dreamlike.
My world reduces to only the feel of his massive manhood sliding repeatedly over thousands of sensitive nerve endings. His pubic bone hits my clit in just the right spot with each unhurried thrust.
I’m lost in the clouds of euphoria as he slowly, skillfully brings our bodies to a fever pitch. It’s painfully apparent he’s wholly focused on me, my pleasure, my needs, wringing another climax from me before finally bringing us over the goal line together. We cry out in unison as we shatter, riding the waves and waves of pure bliss he’s brilliantly crafted. For long seconds, our bodies quiver in tiny aftershocks.
“Addy…” he pants. “Christ.”
I concur.
Quietly, I sag in utter satisfaction against Luke. My limbs are liquid, my breathing still ragged, my body covered in cool sweat. Strong arms band around me, one wound in my hair, one grazing lightly up my spine. He showers tiny kisses along my cheek, my throat, my shoulder. He holds me tight like he knows I might try to escape. He couldn’t be more right.
Lying here, I realize I followed every roughly whispered command Luke gave me. I realize this is the single best sexual experience I’ve ever had. I am all too aware this felt like anything but a simple hookup with a random hot guy. Hell, this felt different from anything else I’ve ever experienced with anyone.
He made me feel cherished, and until this very moment I didn’t even know I hadn’t been before.
As I start the descent from my sexual high, the full force of what I just let myself do slaps me squarely in my stupid face. I’m scared as hell about the emotions flooding the girly parts of my brain.
There’s a reason I haven’t had sex in over eight months. I’m the typical female who can’t separate sex from emotion. I get attached, and sleeping with Luke could have possibly been the stupidest mistake I’ve ever made since I already have feelings for him. Strong ones. Which is why it was so damn easy to give in to what just happened. I’ve been desperate for him for years, and trust me when I tell you, there’s no way any sane woman would turn down Luke fucking Colloway. Or do I have that backward?
I want to slam my head against the closest wall. Despite Luke’s gruffly whispered declaration as his lips lingered at my ear a few minutes ago, “You’re mine now, fireball,” I know all I want will never be. Not with him. He’s in love with another, even if she’s not available. I’ve been the runner-up all my life. For once, I want to be the goddamned winner.
Good God…what the hell have I done?
Chapter 16
It’s three in the morning and I can’t make myself fall asleep. The only woman I’ve imagined sliding my cock into for the last six months is wrapped in my arms, her naked body pressed tightly against mine. It feels as fucking perfect as it did months ago. More so, actually. But this time, my insomnia has nothing to do with the fact she almost drank herself to death and I had to make sure she didn�
�t choke on her own vomit.
No…that’s not it.
I’m fucking wrecked.
Her tight pussy strangled me.
Her heat burned me.
I can still feel her silky walls clenching around my cock when she screamed my name. My name. I want to climb on top of her, sink to the hilt, and pound into her hard so I can hear her hoarse cries again and again. I want to ride her raw. I’ve never not wrapped it up for a woman before, never not wanted to, but I’m fucking dying to bareback and feel each single ridge as I force her to take me slowly, millimeter by millimeter.
Watching myself disappear inside her tightness was hands down the most erotic experience of my life. And when she started moving? Fuuuck. Me. I had to take over or I would have shot my load like a randy teenager. That would have shot to shit my goal of bringing her more pleasure than she’s ever known.
I never knew sex with a woman could be almost transcendent. Silence, haters. I guess that’s how it is when you make love versus just fuck. I would guess that’s the way it’s supposed to be when it’s with the right woman versus one who just opens her legs for anyone.
I feel myself falling for her. Hard. It’s a surprisingly comforting feeling instead of one that makes me want to slit my wrists. That’s good, right?
But as I lie here listening to Addy’s even breathing and savor the heat from her body that seeps into mine, easing my inner turmoil and calming my soul, I have no idea how she’s feeling. That scares the shit of out me more than anything. Hence my insomnia.
Unable to hold it in, I declared my intentions as our blood was still buzzing hard with dopamine. I made it clear she’s mine, but she didn’t respond and I’d be lying if I said my mood didn’t plummet at her stubborn silence. At the very least, I expected an argument. I’ve no doubt that’s coming later, in the light of day.
Case in point: When I could finally make my body obey my commands to move, I disposed of the condom and wet a washcloth for her, which I’ve also never done for a woman before, I might add. When I came out of the bathroom, she was nearly out the damn door before I caught her around the waist, dragging her fine naked ass back to my bed, under her pathetic and fruitless protests. After cleaning her, I pulled her into me and haven’t let go since. I fully expect her to rabbit on me—I also fully intend to roadblock her at each pass.