“Ashley called me brave for not being afraid of you. She said she’d be scared to spend so much if she were your girlfriend . . . but you said I should buy anything, and to use the credit card if I needed, and you were right about those girls. They kept pressuring me to buy more, and more, and more–”
He kissed her to make her stop talking and then he growled.
“Ash-bitch should be scared to be my girlfriend. It’d never happen.” He stuck his tongue out, showing his disgust at even the thought. “She’s just m-mocking you, Baby. You’re worth ev-erry penny.”
His eyelids grew heavy as he ogled her. He slipped his hands around her waist and moved in closer. He used his finger to pull her chin up and kissed her exposed neck. He worked his lips up to her chin and when he reached her mouth, he whispered, “I want you—I want you so bad.”
“You have me.”
“Mm . . .” His eyes burned into her. He tightened his hold and started driving her toward the bedroom while kissing her all over her neck and face, until they stumbled and fell. He turned so he landed first, breaking her fall.
“Are you hurt?”
“No, just clumsy.” She burst out laughing.
“You have the most incredible laugh. I love that sound . . . when you laugh. It makes me happy.”
“I’m happy to make you happy.” She giggled again. She didn’t even know why. “You said you love me.”
“I said I love your laugh.”
“You said you love me, this morning, when I climbed into the van.”
“I did?” The look of surprise on his face disappointed her.
“I knew you didn’t mean it,” she whispered, suddenly heartbroken and it showed.
“I’m surprised I said it out loud. If I did, I didn’t mean to say it out loud. I’m not sure I know what love feels like—that kind of love.” His lips formed into a straight line as he considered the possibility that he’d really let slip the conflicting thoughts and feelings he’d been mulling over.
“I love you—” she whispered.
A loud burp erupted from Paul’s throat.
“Aw dang! And you keep calling me romantic. I’ll have to add that move to my reper-ta-wah!” They both broke into riotous laughter, the direction their conversation had taken, forgotten.
“Ooo, the room is spinning!” Rhees squeezed her eyes shut. “Make it staawp, pleease.”
“Don’t close your eyes. You gotta own it. Open your eyes and pretend you’re a fighter pilot, flying a freakin’ fast jet. It’s fast, but you’re flying it. You’re in control and you can pull out of the spin. Pull it out and ride it out.”
“Aaaah! I can’t.”
“Do it, Baby. You can do it. You’re tough as nails.”
She took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling. “I’m flying a jet, I’m flying a jet, and we’re not spinning anymore . . . but we are. Aw shit.”
“Pull your jet out of the spin, Dani Girrl!”
“I’m flying a jet, I’m at the controls, I’m flying a jet . . .” She gasped and then she giggled. “It works.”
She looked at him and he looked back.
“Paul,” she finally said. “We’re on the floor.”
“So?” He didn’t want to stop taking her in.
“I think hotel room floors are probably dirty, all the people who’ve walked around in here, in the same shoes they wear when they walk into public bathrooms.”
“Oh. Right. What was I thinking?” The next thing she knew, he’d jerked to his knees with her in his arms and set her on the bed. He kneeled in front of her, between her legs, with his hands on her hips, and resumed gazing again as though he’d never stopped.
He leaned in toward her and she backed away. He smirked his crooked grin with a wicked glint in his eyes and climbed onto the bed, crawling after her as she continued to scoot back, toward the middle of the bed. She stopped and he landed on top of her, staring longingly into her eyes.
“I want you.”
“You have me.”
“Do you have any idea how happy I’ve been the last few months, being celibate with you?” He huffed an ironic laugh, but didn’t take his eyes off her. She shook her head, not understanding. “For the first time, since I was little, I feel like I’m doing the right thing. But right now, I don’t want to do the right thing. I want you,” he hissed.
His eyes narrowed and he shook his head. He collapsed to the side of her in frustration.
“You are so beautiful!” he shouted, as if trying to tell the whole world. He turned to face her. “And I’m sooo fucking horny right now. I want you. Do you understand? I wawnt you!”
“Oh.” She didn’t know what to say. Her naivety made him snicker.
“You said there’re things we can do, and then you lied and said there aren’t.” She scowled at him for not being honest with her. “I waawnt to.” She mimicked the drawl he sometimes put on his words and giggled again, watching him.
“Aw Dani Girl,” he moaned, torn between his desire and what he knew was right. “It’s too dangerous, Baby. I promised. What if I can’t stop? I might not be able to stop. Do you understand?”
“I understand you get blue balls, because even the very thought of sex makes me want to rip my eyeballs out until you—”
“Yeah, that. You have no idea how much I suffer for you, beautiful girl, but I don’t mind—not for you.”
“I don’t want you to suffer, and I know I couldn’t do this with anyone but you, but Paul, tell me what to do. Please let me try.” She looked so serious for a second, but the alcohol content in her blood shorted out the connection between her brain and giggle center. She had no control.
He leaned over her and she stopped laughing, immediately. He let his lips touch hers, barely, so softly, closing his eyes, savoring the feel. He opened his eyes again and took her bottom lip between his teeth, gently tugged before sucking on it, and then let it slip from his lips. He met her mouth again and outlined her lips with his tongue. Hers playfully invited his inside and he didn’t refuse. They both moaned at the same time.
His hands wandered, but he used his eyes to keep her mind off of his exploration, ever mindful she could need him to stop any second. He gazed and kissed her softly while one hand held her to him, the other moved up and down her body, caressing every curve over her soft dress.
She watched his eyes and trusted him as he explored for the very first time. He didn’t attempt to remove her dress, he didn’t dare, but he let his hands roam across every square inch of her until he reached her lower stomach and moaned softly.
“I like bellies,” he whispered. “Especially yours, I’ve wanted to spend some serious time here, just kissing it. I’ve wanted to lay my head on it, but I haven’t dared get that personal.” He paused, raising his brow, asking permission to continue.
She returned his question by flicking her tongue across his teeth. It incensed him and he began an oral assault on her mouth, his eyes open, watching her. He pressed the palm of his hand into her stomach again, lower, and he moaned again.
She gasped, a hint of panic appeared in her eyes. She had to look down to see what he was doing.
“Look at me,” he breathed before he lost her. He waited for her to meet his gaze again. His eyes comforted her and she relaxed, but couldn’t quite get a lungful of air. “Breathe, Baby.”
He watched her with reservation as his fingers guardedly worked their way lower. He slowly hitched her dress up until he found access to her inner thighs and stroked the tender skin between her legs.
She squeezed her eyes shut and started breathing, squirming uncomfortably.
“Shhh. Look at me,” he whispered. She opened them again and he smiled to reassure her. “Better?”
She nodded.
“Want to stop?”
She shook her head, awkwardly, and tried to smile. He met her uncertainty with another encouraging smile as he lightly stroked her face and peppered the skin around her lips with soft kisses.
“Don’t close your beautiful eyes. I want to see them.”
She nodded again.
He kissed her and pulled her dress up more, little by little . . . until nothing stood between his fingers and her except the new soft, silky panties she’d been pressured into buying that day. He glanced down to take a quick look.
“Mm,” he grunted appreciatively and she smiled, almost forgetting how nervous she’d become. She took the faintest intake of breath when his fingers slipped into her panties and touched her, bare. She almost closed her eyes again, but he leaned more weight against her, making her need to see.
“You’re beautiful,” he mouthed.
He continued to watch her guardedly, with care, while his middle finger found its way into her folds. Her breathing quickened and became unsteady. She watched his face, faithfully trusting him. He swirled his finger ever so lightly, carefully gauging her cooperative response. She breathed out, soft and slow as her eyes closed again, her body giving in, and then he pressed the button.
She jerked, arching her back with a wispy, “Ah!”
He grinned, a little too pleased with himself that after so much time, he hadn’t lost his touch. He tenderly kneaded and manipulated over and over until she tensed, a good tense, throwing her arms around his neck, letting out another forced, but quiet, breath of air.
He caressed her precisely where he solicited the greatest reaction, focused and intent on getting his way. Her hips alternated between trying to get away and pushing back against his fingers. With each spasm, her neck lengthened away from him and he had to pull her back so he could watch. He didn’t want to miss a single second.
The mischievous look in his eyes was gone, no longer playful like before. His teeth clenched as he compelled her toward climax. He pressed himself into her side, fighting to stay focused only on her, but it wasn’t easy. He wanted to witness her first orgasm, honored, grateful . . . privileged, to be the one to give it to her. He cherished the way she responded to him, the way she made him feel. He wanted to own her—body and soul.
She disintegrated and he absorbed her whimpering with his mouth as she melted in his arms. He smothered her face with soft kisses, reflecting on how he had never cared so much about his lover before. He had never wanted, been so concerned about anything, anyone before. It had always been about his own pleasure. He kissed her again, with affection that left him emotional.
Her breath came out sharp and irregular. “I never dreamed . . .” she tried to say.
“Shh . . . me too.” He kissed her again, compassionately. He didn’t need an orgasm. Showing her, giving to her and thinking only of her . . . it was . . . the most beautiful . . .
She took his face between her hands. “Ba-loo balls!”
He rolled, pulling her along with him so she landed on top of him. He pulled her legs so that she knelt, her knees at his sides. She sat up to get a better look at him, but he pulled her back down for a kiss. The movement drew her along the fly on his jeans and he moaned—so much for it being all about her.
With his hands firmly on her hips, he rocked her back and forth against his hardness. “Okay, just a sec,” he breathed. He reached down and hurriedly unbuttoned his pants as if he were participating in a race. “The buttons are digging into me.”
She raised herself up and back as she helped him pull his pants down far enough to get them out of the way. His boxer briefs went with them, unintentionally, but still so, and he didn’t have the restraint to pull them back into place.
She stared.
“I’m sorry.” He smirked and waited for her to say something about his size. Girls always did. He wasn’t thinking. Rhees didn’t have anything to compare it to.
She giggled. “It looks different than last time . . . bigger.”
“Listen to you, talking so dirty,” he said humorously. She’d said the word, big. It would do.
“No I’m not.” She sounded insulted, very insulted.
“Okay, you’re not.” He understood immediately she didn’t like being called dirty. “You and your battle against germs, but your, not dirty talk, is turning me on so bad. I’m going to explode.”
She giggled and he pulled her back down to his lips, attacking her mouth with his own, more fervently than before. With his arms around her, he guided her to slide back and forth against him, only the thin fabric of her panties between them. He reached down with his hand and pulled her panties to the side. She quietly gasped at the new level of intimacy, but he rushed to assure her. “I swear, I won’t—I won’t change you, I promise.”
She nodded with complete faith in him. He hissed and mumbled a few praises to Rhees and to God, kissing and panting against her mouth.
“Sit up. I want to see you. I need to see you,” he whispered, breathlessly. She sat up and braced her hands on his chest. “You are so beautiful.”
“Stop saying that.” She closed her eyes and continued to move back and forth. She moaned. “It feels . . . so warm and tickly.”
“I’m not going to last. It’s been too long. I’m going to come.” And he did.
She dug at him even harder, biting her lower lip and scrunching her nose as she ground herself against him, taking unexpected pleasure in watching him lose himself. It made her feel so powerful to think she’d done that to him.
His head fell back, his chin jutted forward, and she stared at his long neck and Adam’s apple. His glorious mouth gaped open, his lips forming a perfect O. He moaned, silently, his breathing forceful and erratic. Before he finished, he looked back at her again with awe.
He reached to pull her down to him, wanting to finish with her in his arms. He shivered as he crushed her to his chest.
“I love you,” he said between breaths. He held her tight, too tight. She would have felt smothered by how tight he held her . . . except the alcohol had taken its toll. She’d fallen asleep. The second she felt safe in his arms and heard a few of his heartbeats, she’d given in. He held her a few seconds longer as he pulsed.
“I do love you, Danarya. I never want to let you go.” His breath and heartbeat gradually slowed to normal and he drifted off to sleep, thinking about how beautiful the world had finally become.
oOo
Paul stirred just before dawn. He didn’t think much about why Rhees still lay on top of him. He put his arms loosely around her and closed his eyes again, ready to get back to sleep. Two seconds later, his eyes popped open in horror.
“Shit.” He felt her against his bareness. “Shit, shit, shit!”
He felt her dress under his hand and it gave him some relief—she wasn’t naked. He slid his hand cautiously down her back.
“Shit.” Her dress lay bunched up around her waist. “Oh, God! No, no . . . no, no, no.” It all came out so fast. Her butt was covered, but with nothing more than a pair of thin, silky panties.
“Fuck.” He exhaled hopelessly. “Please . . .”
He gently rolled, not wanting to wake her, but he had to see. He turned her over on her back and carefully peeled himself away from her hold, amazed he didn’t wake her. She normally didn’t sleep so soundly. He sat up, made a face, dreading what he knew he’d possibly discover, and finally checked. Remnants of him were all over the bed, him, and . . . his face fell into his hands and he begged one more time, “Please, no.”
He needed to compose himself so he could continue his inspection. He looked Rhees over again, closer. Her panties were still in place, one consoling detail, a glimmer of hope, but he could see himself all over them as well. He knew how fast and easily he made it inside . . . panties were no obstacle for him. He felt sick.
An
other test—he almost didn’t dare.
Yes! Thank you, God! There were no bloodstains on the sheets, and to his relief, on her. It made him feel guilty, inspecting her so thoroughly, but he had to know. So far, the lack of blood gave him the courage to check himself. Paul moved his penis around, every direction, and finally looked up at the ceiling with a grateful groan.
He rubbed his eyes with both hands and massaged the muscles of his face. He let out another quiet moan. He stood and pulled his boxer briefs up, and then his jeans, and walked into the bathroom.
He leaned both hands on the counter and stared at himself in the mirror. He saw the hickey on his Adam’s apple and groaned. Look what you’ve done. You should have let her leave—she was going home. She could have been safe . . . from you, but you couldn’t let her go. Look what you’ve done.
oOo
A couple hours later, seven o’clock in the morning, Paul woke again. Rhees leaned over the toilet, throwing up. All the things he might have done—did do to her, flashed through his mind and revolted him again.
“Blech!” He had to shut out the sounds she made as she convulsed and the contents of her guts splashed into the water.
“You all right?” His voice came out lower than usual.
It appeared she’d emptied her stomach and had nothing left to heave. She finally noticed him sprawled out in the bathtub, fully dressed, with a pillow and blanket.
“Why are you sleeping in the tub?”
“I love sleeping in bathtubs. I can’t help myself.” His head cocked to one side and he studied the faucet in the tub, not really, but it looked that way.
Wet: Part 2 Page 26