by R. C. Martin
Arrogant son of a bitch, my ass. Tonight, this girl is mine. Now, not even she can deny it.
I’VE NEVER BEEN so annoyed and so turned on all at once. The little shit keeps taking what he wants—and I keep letting him. There’s just something about him, something I can’t quite put my finger on, something that makes me want to shed every bit of self-discipline and willpower onto the dance floor and under my feet. He fed me my name hours ago and we’ve been inseparable ever since. He literally will not let me go; on the dance floor or at the bar. When Sarah, Aria, and Josh were on their way out, I remember the way his hand gripped my waist when they asked me if I was ready to go.
For reasons that can only be explained by my pussy herself, I told them I wanted to stay with Sage. He promised he’d get me home and—fuck me—I can hardly stand the wait any longer. The cocky fucker has a cock I’m dying to fuck. I’ve been duped. I’m pissed and horny and no one else will do. Not tonight, anyway.
I’m drunk. I know I am. I’m not entirely sure how many drinks I’ve had, just that Sage hasn’t forgotten to ask if I need another as the night progresses. Though, I haven’t lost my wits entirely. I’ve noticed he’s hardly had anything to drink; definitely no more than three beers, the last of which was consumed at least an hour ago.
He brought me to the bar ten minutes ago, after I told him I was thirsty. I hardly felt the gin as I put this one away. “If you’re not drinking, why are we still here?” I ask, pushing aside my empty glass. I regret the question as soon as I ask it. I sound like I’m whining and I’m most certainly not that kind of bitch.
He responds first with a kiss. Just like every other kiss he’s bestowed upon me tonight, it catches me off guard. His lips are soft, so incredibly soft, but firm and decisive as they move against mine. He runs his tongue along the slit between my lips, seeking entrance into my mouth as he pins me against the bar. When he sinks his fingers into my hair and presses his pelvis against mine, that’s when I feel it—the tingly sensation that spreads from my head to my toes as the back of my neck heats up and my desire pools between my legs.
“You sick of dancing with me? I’m more than happy to take you to bed, doll face.”
“Was beginning to think you’d changed your mind . . .”
He takes my hand and presses it against the impressive bulge in his pants. I have to stifle my gasp, knowing his ego doesn’t need the boost. “Does it feel like I’ve changed my mind? Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
He wraps his fingers around mine and begins leading me out of the bar. I grip his hand tightly, a little surprised at just how much I need him in order to keep my balance. Once in the parking lot, I draw in a deep breath of the night’s cool air. It feels amazing out, the absence of too many bodies, loud music, and booze quite refreshing. I’m not paying attention to where we’re going until he opens the door to a sleek, black Audi convertible—the top down and the tan leather interior inviting.
I spin around, propping myself against his chest when I lose my footing, and look up into his eyes. “This is your car? You’re playing gigs at The Brew Cycle and you drive a fucking convertible?”
“Get in, gorgeous,” he insists, smacking a kiss against my lips. “This isn’t the ride I promised you.”
A whimper escapes my throat at the prospect of being alone and naked with the man before me. I reach for another kiss, not the least bit concerned that I’m now taking all that I said I didn’t want. He cups my ass, pulling me against him while he gives me a generous squeeze. I voice my desire with a moan.
He nibbles on my bottom lip before he pulls away. “In the car, doll face,” he demands. This time, I obey. He drops down into the driver’s seat just as I’m fastening my seatbelt. “I promised I’d get you home. What’s your address?” I rattle out the information he’s after and he plugs it into his phone before he starts his car.
As he pulls out of the parking lot and into the street, my hair is whipped around my face. I’m so buzzed, even the damn car is making me want Sage—just another piece of sexy to go along with his pretty package. I run my fingers along the leather of the armrest on the door and the center console, loving the smooth texture and the rich, creamy color in contrast with the stark black of the outside.
“Hey, doll face,” he begins to say as he shifts gears. My eyes drift down to his hand on the gear shift; suddenly, watching him drive is all I can think about. “You okay, baby?”
“Hmm?” I ask, my eyes snapping up to meet his.
He smirks at me before turning his eyes back to the road. “You can feel my car up as much as you want, but he won’t return the favor. I on the other hand . . .”
I lift an eyebrow at him, even though I know he’s no longer paying attention to me. His implication that I’m feeling up the wrong thing makes me defiant. My annoyance, which has been simmering all evening, coupled with my arousal, which is irritatingly a byproduct of his very presence, collide into a devious idea. I spread my legs, resting one hand on my knee before I slowly begin skimming my fingers up my bare thigh. I make it all the way to the lacy edge of my panties before I hear him whisper a curse under his breath.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he mutters, grabbing hold of my wrist. His touch is gentle in spite of the demanding tone behind his voice—husky with lust. He brings my hand to his crotch before he lets me go. I chew on my lip, conflicted as to whether or not I want to pull away.
He’s bossy and I don’t know how much I like it.
Before I can make up my mind, he shoves two fingers inside of me. I gasp and then moan as my hand reflexively grips his cock—which seems to be growing underneath his jeans.
“Tonight, your orgasms belong to me. Got it, doll?”
My mind grows hazy as he continues to slide in and out of me, his eyes trained on the road. I wonder if he can really be trusted to take full responsibility for my orgasms—orgasms, with an ‘s’—or if his peacock feathers are only for show. He’s so fucking confident at every turn; it’s both infuriating and sexy at the same time. With my hand still on his jean-clad cock, I decide to seek confirmation of just how impressive his bulge might be.
I moan again when I follow his erection along his thigh. He’s packing more than half a foot, without question.
“That’s right, gorgeous, I’ll take care of you. Got me?”
“Yes,” I whimper, just loud enough to be heard from over the roar of the wind blowing past our ears.
“Good.” As he says the words, he pulls his fingers away from me and promptly sticks them in his mouth, sucking away my arousal. “Fucking hell,” he groans. I feel him grow harder, trying the seams of his jeans. His phone instructs him to take the next right and he finds his stick shift, barely slowing down as he races around the last corner before we’ve reached my apartment building.
He parks the car and takes hold of the back of my neck, drawing my face to his as the top of his car stretches over us. I’m too distracted by the feel of his tongue dancing with mine to notice the darkness that shrouds us as the moon is blocked from view. He feels his way up my side, his thumb grazing the underside of my breast before he pulls away.
“Come on, doll face.”
I’m out of the car without further encouragement and I don’t look back as I make my way to the building, trusting that he’ll follow. A giggle I cannot silence bubbles out of me when he wraps his arms around me from behind, pulling me back as we both continue to walk forward. His lips find my neck just as one of his hands cups my breast, and I decide that I’m quite content when he has the freedom to use both hands.
“I’m up one flight,” I barely manage, making my way to the stairs.
He spins me around and presses me back into the corner, pushing his hard-on against my hip. “God, you smell fucking amazing, right now. I could take you on these stairs.”
I wrap my arms around his neck, my keys dangling from my fingers, and hook my ankle around his calf. “Don’t tempt me,” I whisper.
He grunts, taking
hold of the back of my thighs before he hoists me off the ground. I lock my legs around his hips as he races up the stairs. “Door,” he mutters.
“The first one on the left.”
“Keys.”
I dangle the right one in front of his face and he snatches it, keeping me close as he unlocks the door and carries me inside. He locks us in and then tosses the keys before his lips are adhered to my neck again. I can barely think about anything but the strength of his body in contrast with his tender yet desperate affection, and then he lowers me onto the couch.
“Not here,” I insist, pushing him away just slightly. “Sarah.” He nods, needing no further explanation, and then I’m airborne again. “At the end of the hall.” He gets us there in no time and I reach to swing the door closed once we’re inside.
I unlock my legs from around him and slide down his front, unabashedly dragging my hands along his chest, loving the way his muscles feel beneath the thin fabric of his t-shirt. The moonlight and the street lamps shine through my open blinds, and I don’t miss the satisfied smirk that tugs at his lips.
He’s such a smug asshole, but he’s sumptuous. That I cannot deny.
I reach up and gently pull his glasses from his face. He lets me, staring at me the whole time. His eyes are so blue, so beautiful, and the way he’s looking at me makes me feel gorgeous—just as he’s been calling me all night. That look makes my surrender to his arrogance totally worth it. I won’t get to keep him, I know; but for just a moment, he wants me and I want him and that’s all that matters. His intent gaze makes me want to bare myself to him.
I step around him, carefully setting his glasses on my dresser before I reach for the bottom of my shirt.
“Don’t,” he speaks softly, his lips grazing my ear. I look up, catching our reflection in my vanity mirror just in front of us. “Let me,” he murmurs, kissing the space just below my ear.
I’m naked in seconds, my bare back pressed against his fully clothed body. A small voice in the back of my head tells me that I should feel embarrassed, but I’m too busy enjoying the pleasure of his two fingers working my pussy, his other hand gently squeezing my tit as he nibbles on my neck. When his thumb begins to rub my clit, I gasp, my building orgasm just a breath away.
“Sage,” I mewl, reaching back to grip his neck as my insides clench his fingers, my legs instantly unsteady.
He doesn’t pull out until I’ve ridden the wave of my release and then he brings the digits to his mouth, like he did before. “Shit. You’re going to ride my face, doll. I want you to come all over my tongue.”
Fuck. He wouldn’t need to sing to wet a girl’s pussy. All he has to do is speak.
I turn to face him, desperate for more, as if I hadn’t come for him just a few seconds ago. I reach for the bottom of his shirt and he lets me yank it over his head. My eyes devour him. His chiseled chest is covered in tattoos. I run my hands over all of them—across his pecs, down both of his sides, up his arm. He’s beautiful.
His muscles tense when my fingers trace his abs and I smile when I hear his breath catch in the back of his throat. It’s my turn to take back some control. I open his jeans, sliding my hands under the fabric of his boxers and over his backside as I begin to push both down to his ankles. I descend with his pants, planting myself on my knees in front of his cock. My mouth waters at the sight of him. He’s got the longest dick I’ve ever seen—nine inches, if I had to guess—far more impressive as it stands to attention in front of my face than when I felt it in his pants.
I don’t think twice before I take him into my mouth.
“Oh, fuck,” he sighs, his hands immediately tangled in my hair.
I grip what I can’t fit in my mouth with my hand as I begin to work my way up and down his shaft. I relax my jaw, closing my eyes as I concentrate on taking as much of him as I can. I suck, lick, and then swallow; the groan that follows rumbles from his chest and sets my entire body on fire. I hum as I suck him harder, needing to hear that sound again.
“Jesus, doll face. You’re going to make me come.” My heartbeat speeds up as he speaks and I know that’s exactly what I want—to taste his release as he’s tasted mine. I reach for his balls and he moans. “Is that what you want, baby? You want me to come in your mouth? Your fucking smart-ass, sexy, hot as hell mouth? Ah—fuck, Millie!” he cries, his legs going stiff as his cock fills and then empties its contents down the back of my throat. I suck him dry before I pull away, licking my lips in satisfaction.
Before I know what’s happening, I’m in his arms, my legs around his waist, his tongue in my mouth as he carries me to the bed. He kisses me hungrily and I reciprocate with fervor, completely uncaring that my dripping wet pussy is smearing my desire across his abdomen.
Let him know how much he turns me on. I want him to know.
His peacock feathers are not just for show.
He rolls us over so that I’m on top of him, and then tears his lips away from mine before grinning up at me. “You’re something else, doll face, you know that?” I smirk down at him and he points at his mouth. “Get up here.”
I know exactly what he wants and my pussy aches for me to comply, so I do. He pushes himself further up the bed so that I can grab hold of my headboard as I settle myself over his mouth. One swipe of his tongue has me practically panting. He flicks my clit before he thrusts inside of my center. I arch my back and lower my hips, unable to stop myself.
“That’s it, gorgeous. Take what you want. Ride my face, baby.” I whimper pathetically, any residual rational, logical, or self-conscious thought, spared by my intoxicated state, completely obliterated by his words as I begin to grind against his mouth. He feels incredible and all I want is more. I throw my head back, crying out as my orgasm crashes through me. He laps up all that I have to give before he snakes his hands up, grabbing my hips and pulling me down. I fall—my chest pressed firmly against his.
“Do you have any idea how fucking hot you are? How goddamn good you taste?”
“Show me,” I whisper before plunging my tongue into his mouth.
He grips his arms around me tighter, grabbing a palm full of ass as he lifts his hips and teases my entrance with his hard cock. “I need a condom, right fucking now.”
“Do you have one?”
“Doll face, the question is, do I have enough?” He rolls us over again before he climbs off of me and reaches for his jeans. I watch as he digs out his wallet and pulls out two square packages. “Guess I’ll have to make ’em count.”
He tosses one onto my nightstand, ripping the other open with his teeth. We stare at each other as he sheathes himself and I grow short of breath at the sight of him—completely on display in all of his glory.
“What?” I ask softly when he doesn’t return to the bed.
He’s still for a moment longer and then he crawls into the space between my legs, wasting not a second more before he sinks himself inside of me. I suck in a breath, arching my back as he fills me completely. I’ve never felt so full, so complete. It’s like, for the first time in my life, I understand how a man is supposed to fit inside of a woman. Our gazes locked, I know that this is a moment to cherish—a fleeting connection that I’ll never forget. He’s the best decision I’ve made all night. Tomorrow he’ll be gone, but tonight . . .
“Sage,” I beg when he doesn’t move. “Sage, please. Please, move. I need you to move.”
“And in my arms you’ll find your ecstasy
When you lose yourself, I’ll set you free
Baby, just let go and let it be, let it be
Tonight/ Just give me tonight.”
He sings the words softly before he begins to pull out of me and I could die.
Right here. Right now. Without another orgasm—I. Could. Die. I don’t care what song he’s singing or how many times he’s sung the same lines to the countless women I’m sure he’s taken to bed. All I can think about is the sound of his voice as it washes over me and the look in his eyes as he stares at me, m
aking me feel like it’s just him and me in the whole world. Then he rolls his hips and glides back inside of me and I free fall into his sweet oblivion.
“You feel incredible, baby. Abso-fucking-lutely incredible.”
I open my mouth to respond, but he steals my words with a kiss. Soon, we’re both covered in a thin layer of sweat as we pant and moan for one another. When I plant my feet on the bed in order to push my pelvis up to meet him thrust for thrust, he stops me, wrapping one leg around his hip and then the other.
“Your orgasm is mine, baby doll, remember?”
“I need it—I need it now! I need more! Sage—more!”
“Who do your orgasms belong to tonight, doll face?”
“You,” I moan.
“Who?” he asks, pumping in and out of me faster, harder.
“Oh—god—you, Sage, you!”
He brings his hand between us and presses on my clit and I know I’m about to come so fucking hard. When it hits me, my nails dig into his biceps as I free an uninhibited cry. He groans as my center squeezes around him, pulling forth his own release.
“Fuck, yes, Millie—strangle my cock, baby!”
He collapses on top of me when we’re both finished and we work for a moment to catch our breath. When I sigh wistfully, feeling sated and sleepy, I close my eyes. He lifts his head almost immediately, smacking a kiss against my lips.
“Don’t you fucking dare. Open your eyes, gorgeous,” he insists. I obey, lifting an eyebrow at him. He smirks as he shakes his head. “We’ve got another condom left.”
“Seriously?” I murmur in disbelief.
“You bet your sweet, little ass.” I giggle when he pulls my bottom lip between his teeth. He releases me, dragging his lips along the length of my jaw.“Sleep tomorrow.”
“It is tomorrow.”
He shakes his head at me once more. “God, this mouth,” he mutters before he presses his against mine. “You’ll sleep when we’re done, doll face. Got it?”