Bite & Release

by CORY CYR

  “Tell me about the tattoos,” I asked as I took another sip of my drink. I ran my hand lovingly over the one side of his chest, my fingers dancing across the tattoos.

  “Later, baby. I don’t want to really talk about them right now.” He averted his gaze and I got the distinct feeling that the subject was not one he wanted to pursue.

  “Alright . . . then what did you have in mind?” I teased as I dribbled a small amount of my whisky onto his nipples, then carefully licked each tantalizing nipple until I had sucked up every drop. Shea groaned in appreciation.

  “You promised no sleeping, and I’m making sure you’re a man of your word,” I murmured as I continued using my tongue to trace circles around his nipples. As my touch drew each nipple into a hard nub, my hand then drifted across his cock. He was hard again, thick and massive. Shea growled as he pushed me back onto the bed, straddling me. He began kissing the swell of my breasts and teasing me with his tongue, just like I had teased him. Holy shit, his tongue was mind-blowing . . . I’d never felt anything so erotically sensual.

  He moved off to my side and bent me forward, unhooking the back of my bra. My breasts fell free, swollen with want. He cupped them with both hands and employed that wicked tongue of his again, licking the sides and circling my nipples. Paybacks are obviously a bitch, a bitch that feels so fucking good. My sex was throbbing painfully, and I was bordering on over-stimulation. I needed him inside of me. Just the thought of his thick, oversized cock thrusting into me was almost enough to get me off right then and there. Almost.

  I squirmed as I spread my legs wider apart while my hands caressed his chest. I didn’t know if it was the slight alcohol buzz or the urgency to have him inside of me, but as I ran my hands down his chest and along his arms, I felt bumps, like scar tissue. His skin felt wrong and it startled me. I reluctantly put my thoughts away, tucking them deep into my mind. I would talk to Shea later about them.

  As badly as I wanted him to fuck me, what he was doing currently with his tongue qualified as ohmygod! and what the fuck? He had manoeuvred his way down to my panties, and was currently pulling them down with his teeth. I wiggled my hips, hoping it would be helpful and get them off faster. Once he got them to my knees, he nuzzled my mound.

  “God, baby, you smell like heaven,” he murmured. “I can’t wait to taste you.”

  The excitement was killing me, because all that was running through my brain was the memory of Shea fingering me in his car and whispering that if we weren’t in the car, his tongue would be inside of me along with his fingers. He sat up and pulled my panties all the way off then reversed the path of his hands, stroking and kneading the tingling skin on my legs, right to my inner thighs. Once he reached my core, he spread my legs as far apart as they could go and put a pillow under my ass. Using two fingers, he spread my lips apart, and I was so wet I could hear the slight sucking sound made by my flowing juices as he parted me. He bent his head and settled his broad shoulders between my thighs, swept his tongue inside my sex and began suckling my clit. He pushed his thick finger into my core, stroking my inner walls and teasing my slick folds. My head was thrashing about and my cries were feeding our desires as he ate me with gusto. Releasing my clit from his wicked mouth, he slipped his tongue in to join his fingers deep inside me and growled as he licked from side to side. My pelvis had a mind of its own, bucking upwards and grinding my pussy into his face.

  I was starting to get tunnel vision, the edges of the room falling away into darkness as my focal point narrowed on the dark head of the man between my legs. I knew Shea sensed my impending release—my trembling legs must have tipped him off—and he pressed the pad of his thumb to my clit and rotated the swollen nub with just enough pressure to start making me come apart at the seams.

  “Oh, shit . . . oh, God . . .” I shrieked, riding his face madly.

  Shea removed his thumb and sucked on my clit again, scraping the engorged tissue gently with his teeth. I began to thrust upward off the pillow, trying to get him to go deeper. I moaned deeply and my hands reached for his head. He stopped—oh, my God, he fucking stopped!—and I could feel him softly blow air across my clit. I was frantic for release at this point.

  “Shea . . . please,” I begged, tugging on his hair. I was so close, right on the edge. I honestly didn’t think I’d ever felt anything so intense, so pleasurable. I could barely remember any sexual experience I’d ever had before this.

  He turned away and opened his nightstand, removing a condom. I hoped he had stocked up, because this was going to be a long night. I watched as he rolled the condom over his cock, and then he removed the pillow from under me. As I stroked his corded, muscled arms, I felt Shea’s body quiver. I reached up from his arms and ran my hands up to his hair, weaving my fingers through it, and then tracing a finger along his jaw line. I lifted my chin and touched my lips to his. This was the first time I had been the one to initiate a kiss. When I looked at up at him, his eyes looked bluer than I’d ever seen and he pierced me with a hungry look.

  “Baby, lie back and turn slightly to the side. Bend one leg at the knee.” He helped me to position myself as he directed.

  He was only twenty-one and he had alternate positions? My memory flashed back to what Trina had said. Shea had been having sex since he was thirteen and, evidently, he'd gone past missionary.

  “I’ve waited forever to be inside you, and I don’t want to just fuck you,” he stated, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. I turned my head just as he locked his gaze with mine, and something monumental shifted inside of me, recognizing the enormity of this moment. Shea’s eyes told me that he not only understood it—he engineered it.

  “I want to touch your soul,” he whispered.

  He wants to touch my soul? I felt Shea’s finger sweep my sex and I heard him grunt with approval as he positioned himself. I could feel his steely cock notched at the entrance of my sex, and all I wanted to do was to push backwards so I could impale myself on him. He reached around me and cradled a breast with this hand, stroking his thumb across my nipple. His arms pulled me into him as his body moved into mine, and his cock entered me slowly, stretching me, making room for him. It had been quite some time since the last time I had sex, and Shea was wide, so I was incredibly tight. Now I knew why he used this position—the feeling was overpowering for both of us. Even though there was some burning, it also felt amazing. I could feel my inner muscles adjust to his size as I got wetter and wetter. I was so lost in my concentration that when Shea pushed in all the way, I yelped with the sudden feeling of being filled to capacity. He quit moving instantly.

  “Ryan, did I hurt you?” His voice sounded stressed.

  “No, it’s fine. Don’t stop,” I panted, my body quickly adjusting to his thrumming staff.

  In this position, it was incredible how I could feel Shea so deeply. I’d had sex in the missionary position, doggie style and even on my stomach, but in this position, I felt like I was being consumed. My core muscles tightened all around him and he let out a strangled moan. The burning pleasure was so great and I didn’t care about any lingering twinges of pain—all I knew was that I wanted him to bury himself to the hilt and fuck me into oblivion. He began to move again, using almost guarded movements, as though he thought I might break. His slower rhythm allowed me to adjust faster and more comfortably to his size.

  “Baby,” he whispered as my hand covered his on top of my breast.

  “Shea . . . I want it harder . . . deeper . . . faster.” I could barely choke out the words.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he answered, the concern evident in his voice as his breath caressed the shell of my ear. I pushed back onto his cock and I heard him swear.

  “Shea, I mean it, fu—”

  He surged forward so quickly I gasped and held onto the sheet as he began to thrust into me. Sweat dripped from his hair onto my shoulder. He took his hand off my breast and held me by my waist as continued to push deeper into me. My entire body began to hum as it prepared
for release. My core muscles tightened again and squeezed, convulsing around Shea’s cock as he pulsated in the grip of my inner walls, and then he drove into me even faster. He embraced me tighter as my body began to spasm and shake. He continued his punishing rhythm and I arched and ground desperately into his groin, his words I want to touch your soul reverberating in my mind.

  “Shea!” I screamed loudly, as every inch of my body trembled and the sensation of release poured over me. I didn’t hear him as he came, but his body tensed and I could feel the heat and the sensation of his climax, even through the condom.

  Shea slowed down but he was still hard. Both of our bodies were covered with sweat and we were damp from my release. He stayed behind me and nuzzled the hollow of my neck, licking my sensitized skin.

  “You taste good everywhere,” he pointed out, holding me tightly.

  “How can you still be hard?” I giggled, noticing that his thickness wasn’t deflating.

  “If I didn’t have the condom to deal with, I’d be good to go at least another two or three times without pulling out,” he stated calmly, and his tone implied that this was nothing out of the ordinary. I lay there with his cock still inside of me, hard as stone, contemplating what he just said. Boy . . . would I like to test out that theory.

  Shea pulled out slowly, and I was already saddened by the loss of fullness. I felt him sit up and I flipped on my back, struggling to pull up the one lone sheet he hadn’t piled on the floor with the rest of the bedding. He discarded the condom, lay on his back beside me and took my hand, placing it on his stomach.

  “Always used a condom?” I asked, more out curiosity than worry. Shea turned on his side to face me.

  “For the last five years—always, but before that, I did . . . most of the time.” He paused, sensing my possible concern. “I have a physical every two years and I always get checked for . . . everything, just in case. How about you, Ryan?” he asked, patting my hand.

  That was a pretty loaded question, since I was married. Of course, he didn’t know that, and there was no way I was going to fuck up this perfect night by breaking that news to him. Garrison had refused to use condoms. I had started using birth control, knowing full well it offered no protection from whatever he brought home, but at least I was protected from having a child with him.

  What Garrison hadn’t known was that I had never trusted him, not after the first year of marriage. I had made a point of being checked for any and all sexually transmitted diseases at least one a year, sometimes twice a year. I had no real evidence that he was cheating, but trusting him had never come easy. I’d always had a nagging feeling in the back of my mind about Garrison. Prior to marrying me he was less than virginal, a typical male. I’m not saying I didn’t have my fair share of partners, but Garrison had a reputation for being a major player. I’d never wanted to take a chance of getting pregnant, because I knew Garrison would not only freak out but want me to terminate the pregnancy due to his plans for my career. By the time I realized what kind of man I really married, it was too late. He would have never let me go. So here I was, with a man, who I felt I could totally trust, that by all accounts trusted me, and I was lying to him about my entire life.

  “I’m on birth control, of which I need to get more, and I suppose they will do a full work up so I will have documentation that I am not harboring some sexually transmitted disease.” I said it with a grin, but in reality, I wanted to prove that I was safe. Even though I had no idea if this was a one-night stand, I guess I wanted to prepare for the chance it wasn’t. I had no ideas what I was feeling but I kind of wanted more. I knew I shouldn’t because there were other issues to consider—like me being married. That was the biggie.

  I think I did feel something more for him than just attraction, all I knew right now was I wanted more of this. Maybe to Shea I was just a fantasy, and now that he had fulfilled his dream, he would want to move on.

  “We’ll both get checked out . . . that way we won’t need anything between us.” Shea rubbed his thumb across my bottom lip. “I want to feel all of you—I want to feel your muscles squeeze my cock so tight that when I come in you, it fills you and overflows every single inch of your pretty pussy and then some.”

  “Damn, Shea, you have a very naughty mouth,” I said, shivering at the effect of his brazen words.

  “Mmmm . . . I was thinking the exact same thing while you were inhaling my cock,” he replied, and the sultry tone of his voice raised goose bumps on my fevered skin. His words did me in and I reached over, running my hands along his toned, muscular thighs. My hand feathered across his cock, and it stirred and twitched, brought to life by my touch. In seconds, he was even more swollen and harder than a pike, and it throbbed in my hand as my fingers glided along the sides and the crown.

  I looked into his magnetic blue eyes and saw the lust that I was sure was mirrored in my own eyes. “I want you inside me again,” I said huskily.

  Shea fumbled with his nightstand drawer, finally producing another condom.

  “How many you got in there?” I teased, watching him intently as he rolled it onto his hardened length.

  “Enough—trust me,” he said cockily as pulled me over and on top of him. “Ride me, Ryan,” Shea groaned and squeezed my ass to spur me into action.

  I straddled him and rubbed my sex along his length. I loved hearing his sounds of passion and satisfaction, especially when I made him groan. It felt so good . . . hell, I was groaning. Even though I knew I was ready and wet, I decided to torture him a little bit. I grasped the head of his cock and slid it along my moist folds—just enough to make him want to plunge inside, but I wouldn’t allow it. I could feel his frustration vibrating throughout his tense, straining body. I did that for a few minutes then eased myself onto his engorged length. Descending very slowly resulted in quite a few desperate curses from Shea. I smiled when I finally seated myself completely and I shifted around, ensuring that he was in as far as humanly possible. He moaned loudly and then his hands were on my ass again, this time lifting me up and down, our bodies slapping together with delicious friction.

  “Fuck, baby, you’re so tight and wet. I’m not sure how long I can last . . . you feel amazing.” He growled as I moved faster and faster, and then Shea captured my breasts with both hands, licking my nipples with his stiff, fluttering tongue.

  Oh . . . that was so not fair . . .

  He was right, this felt too good. I felt my body hum, and a rush of heat flared in my belly as waves of intensity began to build. I felt light headed, my sex throbbed incessantly from arousal and desire, and I lost all control as my thighs locked against his body in my frenzy. My orgasm was in reach, ready to crash over me as the heat and intensity between us increased. Sensing what I needed, Shea shoved his hand between my pussy and his cock and stroked my swollen clit, sending me over the edge into a climax so primal that I almost blacked out.

  I couldn’t stop rolling and grinding my pelvis as I rode him through the ebbing waves of my release. It just kept going on and on, and then I realized something incredible—I was actually at the crest of a second climax.

  Holy fuck.

  I’ve never had consecutive orgasms. Every nerve ending in my body sizzled as I arched my back and ground into him, feeling my sex convulse around his cock. As he thrust into me, deep and hard, he sat up and cradled my body into his, shuddering through his release, shouting out words that would make a sailor blush.

  We held each other through the aftershocks of our euphoric and wild ride, trembling in bliss. He found my lips and pressed a kiss to them. “I’ll never get enough of you—of this, ever,” he murmured, his breathing harsh and uneven. As we kissed, I sensed intensity mixed with apprehension. I tried to calm his fears with my lips and the soothing way I stroked his skin. As I ran my hand over his chest, I felt unsettled—there was something under the surface of his tattoos. I realized I wasn’t hallucinating when I pressed into his skin firmly and I felt Shea pull away from my touch. He broke the kiss
and pulled me back close, sheltering his body with mine.

  “Tell me about New York. I want to know everything about your life the last thirteen years,” he whispered.

  “Nothing really earth shattering. Obviously, I’m not famous. I’m just one of a million girls who thought they were talented.” I laid my head on his chest. “It was hard, especially when I went to a zillion auditions. I worked so many menial jobs . . . and I didn’t accomplish jack shit. I’m basically a failure.” I had never actually spoken the words out loud, even though they were an ever-present thought, blinking in my brain like a neon sign on Broadway. Saying them now made it all real.

  Shea’s hand cupped the back of my head. “Oh baby, I’m sure whatever you did, you did your best. It’s not over, and you still have many opportunities to become a star. You’re beautiful and talented, and you’ll have plenty of opportunities to prove yourself. I believe you can do it, so you will.” I heard his voice stall. “How soon are you going back?” he asked, and I could hear the sense of dread in his voice.

  I needed to touch him, to feel my profound connection to him. I lovingly caressed his cheek.

  “I’m not going anywhere, Shea . . . not right now,” I whispered softly into his ear. I felt his body relax. “I want to be here . . . with you.”

  I reached to pull the sheet up over our damp bodies. I was warm, sated and happy. For the first time in so long, I actually felt some degree of contentment. In Shea’s arms, I felt safe and protected. But what would happen when he found out about Garrison? What would he think of me then?

  Would he still care enough about me to want us, even if he found out the truth?

  Chapter FIFTEEN

  I woke up to a pair of very intoxicating and gorgeous looking blue eyes. Shea was propped up on one elbow, watching me sleep. He looked amazing, sun-kissed, tattooed and muscled, while I’m sure I looked like some skank. I just knew my hair was a rat’s nest, and I had mascara everywhere. My breath most likely smelled like someone’s ass.