Her laugh is soft and melodic, and I thank God she found that amusing because it sounded like assholery even to me, and I’m a terrible judge, but her eyes sparkle as they pin me to my seat.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she responds back her eyes glowing with mirth, her lips quirked into a smile. Lips I would literally kill to have wrapped around my dick.
“Gwen,” the little author starts with a smile. “Please feel free to email me or something. Don’t be a stranger, but I’ve got to head back. It’s a quite a ride home for me.” She gives Gwen one last smile, before her gaze flicks to me and she smirks, but says nothing as she gets up and leaves.
“Oh my God Connor! How could you-”
“I'll be right back,” I call over my shoulder as I get up stalk after her. I don't know what I'm doing, but I can hear Gwen groan in response. Maybe she knows what I'm doing. I wish someone can clue me in, but my body moves on it's own as it stalks after the little author.
Before my mind has a chance to stop my body, my hand snakes out and wraps around her upper arm. With a twist I open the women’s bathroom door, push Henley in, and lock the door behind us. She doesn't back away startled, like the women who are more like mice. She doesn't flirt and flit about like the scantly clad super models do, every move aimed at seduction. She lifts her chin, her green eyes are snapping fire, and keeps her gaze leveled on me. Her smirk never fades. Shes daring me. Shes fucking daring me to make a move. Whoever this is, she’s not the nice little author from the table, and my whole body tightens in anticipation. This woman is a challenge. One I have to accept.
My body is stalking forward before I can stop it. Even as I stalk closer she does not move, just tilts her chin higher so that she continues to stare into my eyes. When I get close enough I reach out and grab her arm, her skin is hot underneath her clothes. Burning. I jerk her forward until our bodies are flush, the flame inside me igniting at the soft press of her body. So soft.
The scent of her is intoxicating, no perfume nothing special, just... her. My hands skim slowly along the exposed skin of her arms, our breathing becoming short ragged gasps. It's like there is an electrical current pulling us further into each others orbit, making us want. Making me want. And I never want women, I just want the pleasure that can be taken from their bodies, but this is different. This is... something else entirely. I want her so bad my body is trembling with the force of the desire, and I always get what I want.
Shifting my stance, I know she can feel me pressed against her stomach. I know she can feel how hard she is making me, but the only response I get is her eyebrow raising. What does that mean. Gritting my teeth I just continue to stare down at her. She is so small. She can barely reach five-foot-two I'm sure, a whole foot shorter then I am. I've never fucked a woman like this... but I'm about to. God am I about to fuck this little slip of a thing.
She's so close I can smell her, even her scent is soft, sugar, pastries. She smells like the donut. This close I can tell that she is as affected by me as I am her. At least I hope that's what the flush means. All I know is it's gorgeous on her face. Subtle... natural. Just like the rest of her.
“Henley,” I say slowly, savoring the way the word feels, savoring the taste of its weight, “this is the only chance I’m going to give you to back away. Back away from what I know we both want.”
The shiver that runs through her excites me, as I raise my hand and stroke my thumb across her plump pink lips. Her eyes are wide, watching me, but she doesn’t pull away. Hell yeah she wanted this.
I can feel the grin pulling at my lips, as I slip the condom out of my pocket. Biting down on the plastic I rip it open with one hand, as the other pulls down my zipper. The crinkling of the wrapper practically echos in the small bathroom. The only other sound is our heavy breathing, as the static energy zings between us. This is the first time in a long time I feel excitement to be bedding a woman... well minus the bed.
At the sight of her so flushed before me, I am almost tempted to give her more. To touch her, taste her, but that's not how I play this game. So I give her a moment, where our eyes are locked, she only gets this moment to turn away. To turn me down. If not, and I hope to God she doesn't turn away, I will scratch the shit out of this itch. Maybe if I do the buzzing in my head will finally ease up.
“Are you just going to stand there? Or do you actually know how to use that?” She laughs, her grin widening.
This fucking woman. I'm on her then with a growl and I don't give her any time to adjust. In that one simple motion, I've got her sitting on the edge of the counter, and I'm between her legs, rocking against her.
“Oh-” she breaths heavily, arching her body further against mine.
“Yeah, Oh,” I snarl, my face pressed against her neck. I let my lips slide over the sensitive skin, and nibble lightly on her collar bone.
With one last thrust I pull her lacy little black panties aside with my fingers, which presses my cock through the wet folds in her skin, as I try to hold back a shudder. She shifts her hips making the next thrust the one that claims her, as I slide all the way in.
Her pussy is tight. Too tight. Tight enough to make me groan out loud which only makes her grin wider. Tight enough that it is almost painful.
“Christ... I do have to show you how to use it don't I?” She laughs breathlessly.
Before I even have time to show her who is in charge here, she has already pushed and twisted until I am the one against the counter. Her hips start in a slow and rhythmic pace. I can't keep back the groan, at the feel of her tight, wet cunt sliding all the way off, then sliding all the way back down, taking all of me in.
My hands skim along the black lace stockings, all soft. She is so soft. She is just as perfect under the scrutiny of my hands as she had appeared. The pads of my fingers feel like they are alive with electricity as I run them higher, grabbing a handful of her ass, holding on for dear life.
Her body begins rocking harder, frantic, as she clutches my shirt in her hands. I meet her thrust for thrust, as my head falls back against the wall. There are no sounds, beside the panting and thrusting. The sound of our bodies grinding together, as I use my hands to guide her, or to hang on, I don't know anymore. She doesn't let out a single moan. For the first time I realize I want to hear a woman's voice. I want to hear her calling out her pleasure. Pleasure I give her. I open my eyes to slits, as I watch her work to find her own release.
Her perfectly arched eyebrows are deeply furrowed, as she rides me. She is raking her teeth across her lower lip holding back every pant, every breath, every moan. The rocking of her hips becomes more chaotic, and I know she is close. I can see it in the dark look of her eyes. I can feel it in the way her pussy throbs and tightens around my cock, and its driving me wild. And when her orgasm hits her, I close my eyes with a groan, and try to hold on to my sanity as her body pulls at tightens around my shaft begging me to go with her. I'm not nearly done fucking this little author yet.
The rocking slows, as her body winds down. Then she slides off slowly, finally. Finally. I'm going to fuck her so hard. I just need a minute to catch my breath, or for the first time I might end this too early.
My eyes snap open as I hear a click. She's standing by the door looking pleasantly rumpled, and well fucked. She tosses me a smirk over her shoulder, but her eyes betray something different something dark, before she pulls the handle and steps out into the crowded bistro, leaving me with a erection that I don't know what I’m going to do to get rid of. What. The. Fuck. T-minus-zero. The calamity has hit, and while I may not know it yet, I’ll never be the same again.
Chapter 3
There had only been one thought replaying through my mind from the moment that bitch, with her perfect smirking lips, and her devilish green eyes, walked out of the woman's bathroom.
What the fuck was that.
It had taken a good ten minutes for my dick to go down, and thank God nobody had walked into the bathroom in those ten minutes, because my brain was to busy going '
what the fuck' to tell my body to get up and lock the door. And when I finally manged to get my body to move, all I could do was dumbly toss the condom, zip it up, and slip out the door.
Gwen was standing outside waiting, all indignant and chafed, and I am the one that got used.
“You couldn’t keep it in your fucking pants for one day Connor? One day?”
Of course she is pissed as fuck. I’m the one that gets cock teased and she’s the one that gets to be all pissy about it.
“What the hell was that,” she hissed angrily when I approached the table.
“How about that bitch just abused your brother, show some fucking sympathy,” I hissed back, tossing some bills on the table and heading for the door.
“Lets just say I believe you for one second, not that I do, because how do you abuse something you give away for free to any hot girl that wll spread their legs, why is she the one that came out looking like someone kicked her puppy?”
“She looked upset? Well at least she got off!” I snap back.
What the hell happened. Nobody has ever left me hanging like that. And the worst part is I wasn't even thinking about getting myself off. I had been thinking about how it felt to have her moving above me. To be burrowed inside her warmth. I was thinking about that smirk, those green eyes. Too green. I could feel my body tightening at the memory of her laughter, her smile. What is wrong with me. If this shit doesn't let up I'm going to have to see a psychiatrist to save what scraps of my brain that bitch didn't drag through the shredder.
“What and you didn’t get off?” I can hear Gwen’s laughter bubble up, she never was able to stay angry at anything for very long. “Well it sucks to be on that side of the fence doesn’t it big brother."
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I snap angrily as I open the passenger door to my black Maserati. Regardless of how Gwen is acting, my mother instilled in me enough manners to open the door, if I don’t she’ll find out about it, and I’ve had enough for today the last thing I need is to open that can of worms.
“What I’m talking about is for once, someone finally left you instead of you leaving everyone else. I mean you can’t honestly tell me you stick around to make sure a woman gets off can you?”
“If they don’t get off how is that my problem?”
“Exactly she got off, now you’re not her problem and its pissing you right off isn’t it? This is so priceless I’ve gotta call mom.” Great just what I need. My whole family laughing it up at my expense.
I tune her out as best as I can, my jaw clenching as I try desperately not to remember the little author. Tried not to remember the dark look in her eyes, fear maybe? What had she been so afraid of that she would run? Certainly not me, I had been enough of a gentleman not to warrant that. And she ran anyways. Gwen’s laughter sifts through the fog of my mind and I cringe at the sound. Just what I need, my whole family laughing it up at my expense. Just great.
My mind stayed on repeat like that, while my subconscious brain drove us through downtown traffic and out of the city. Her smile, her laugh, I should have minded my better judgment and ignored her. I should have climbed out of my chair and ran for my life. You don't fuck women like that, you have relationships with them, and I don't do relationships. Period.
I try to pretend its over and done with now so there is no point continuing to think on it, by the time I finally work that through my brain, I'm pulling up to the gated house that for the first eighteen years of my life I called home.
The wrought iron gates swing out slowly once I punch in the pass code, revealing the lush manicured gardens of the front lawn. If you were to ask me it just looks like an extremely expensive yard, but my mother insists it is an English garden. She would also insist she owns an English cottage, but I don't know of any people that associate the sprawling five bedroom home with the word cottage either.
Pulling up in front of the house, I step out onto the cobblestone drive and make my way to my sister's side of the car. The rules that were instilled practically since childbirth still apply. Always open the door, always hold your hand out to help the lady out of the car. Even though it's Gwen, and she is going to give me the same lame excuse, and climb out on her own, it's our own comfortable routine. If I don't at least offer my mother will give me shit for it. She always does.
“I'm not touching that,” she says as usual when she climbs out of the car avoiding my hand. “I don't know where its been.”
“Up your favorite author's skirt,” I respond dryly, still decidedly pissed by today's turn of events. Which leaves Gwen laughing as she walks toward the front door.
“And here I thought what with the way your panties are twisted, surely it was her hand up your skirts big brother.”
And just like that all the anger I had managed to push aside jumps back to the surface, and I have to clench my jaw to keep from snapping back as I follow Gwen inside.
The inside of my mother and fathers home is much like the outside, warm woods, rich colors, homey and inviting. It was pleasant to grow up here, but even the nostalgia can’t wipe away my current mood.
“Mom!” Gwen is calling out excitedly, no doubt to go over my lunch time activities in great detail.
I follow Gwen into the kitchen where my mom is no doubt baking away, her favorite hobby lately it seems. Seeing Gwen and my mother embracing brings a smile to my face even through my dour mood. Gwendolyn certainly received mothers fair features, where I am more of our father, and Aiden got stuck somewhere in between.
“Oh my poor baby,” my mother offers walking over to give me a warm embrace. “I heard the horrible news.”
“Whats so horrible about it,” Gwen offers with a laugh, “Someone finally gave him a dose of his own medicine.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” my mom responds with a sigh. It’s nice to have someone in my corner on this, even if they are disillusioned. “My Connor would never prey upon young womens bodies. Would you sweetie?”
What can I say? It’s good to be the favorite.
“You’re right, he doesn’t want their bodies," my younger brother chimes in cheerily. “He’s much more interested in their pu-”
“Aiden McKerrick! Enough of your mouth, really.”
Mom’s exasperation only serves to amuse him as he wanders into the kitchen. And my father, well he has taken it all in as usual with his trusty newspaper in hand, and a keen eye to make sure we don’t get out of hand and cause too much trouble.
“It’s all irrelevant. The true trouble here is karma, she’s a soulless bitch, and the moment you find a woman you want to be with, you’ll really get whats coming your way. You’re reputation will run her off for you.”
“Guess it’s a good thing I’m not looking for long term then,” I reply sitting at the table.
“You’re going to meet the one you want to keep soon enough son, and you’ll want her so bad you dream about her, and shes goin’ to tell you to go fuck yourself.”
“Alan! Really all of you, how did I get stuck with this bunch of wild animals.”
“You got stuck with us when I proposed and you said yes, dear,” my dad finishes raising his eyebrows at me. Giving me his most ominous look. I take it with a grain of salt, like always.
Chapter 4
I’m laying on my back in my bed, the crisp slate sheets wrapped around my body as her hand trails lower down my abs before stroking at my dick. Her tongue is rolling circles across my nipple, and I can feel her teeth scraping the skin.
“Fuck yea, just like that baby,” I murmur my head rolling back at all the sensations.
I can feel her smile against my skin, before her mouth starts trailing lower following her hand. Her tongue is soft and wet against my skin, as it starts at the base of my cock and slowly works its way to the tip, her hands moving further down to massage my balls.
When her tongue reaches the tip she swirls it slowly around the head. The tip of her tongue teases at me enough that my hips jerk up se
eking entrance to her hot mouth and she pulls back with a laugh.
“Take it easy, soon enough,” she says with that smirking smile and those too green eyes.
“Henley,” I reply with a groan, “please baby…”
I’ve been reduced to begging. Something Connor McKerrick never does, but I’ll do it. Christ will I do it to feel that slick mouth and soft lips on my cock.
With another soft laugh, she parts those sweet lips and lets my cock slide in. Fucking fuck. My hips jerk pushing me deeper, and she takes it. She pushes me in further, her tongue circling my shaft as she starts humming in appreciation.
A grab a handful of her brunette curls, they are softer than I thought they’d be, and hold her head while I start to move my hips in a slow pace. She let’s out a deep appreciative groan, and I can see her hand slip between her thighs as she starts fingering herself.
“Oh fuck baby, you’ve got a greedy little cunt don’t you,” I growl out closing my eyes.
She whimpers around my cock, sucking harder as I fuck that sweet little mouth of hers, I can feel all the nerves in my body center in my dick and I know I’m about to explode. I tap her on the shoulder to let her know, but instead of pulling back she just sucks me deeper. Oh fuck. She is going to let me come in that wet little mouth of hers. I want to see her face when I come, I want to stare into those too green eyes. So just as I am about to come I open my eyes to gaze down at her.
I’m lying alone in my bed, one touch from coming over a dream. Fuck. Me. I drop my head back and close my eyes, decidedly ignoring the second erection she has left me hanging on. I will not jack off over a dream. I won’t do it. I refuse. So I just lay there my jaw creaking under the taut pressure, and wait for it to relax enough that I can move at least.
When the pain of an almost bursting dick subsides to the point its just another erection making me horny, I climb out of bed and make my way to the shower. Everything in my home is white or masculine gray, at least my designer tells me it’s masculine, and my bathroom is no different. My feet pad over the heated slate floor into the shower. I leave the water on cold instead of my usual high temperature, and pray to God that this erection goes away.
Torn (The McKerricks Book 1) Page 2