Say Yes_Ian

by Amelia Mae

  “Different girl every night?” she asks, cutting right to the chase.

  I take the bait. “Yeah. That definitely doesn’t suck. Last year we did a European festival tour and we played a show in Paris and after we wrapped, I went backstage and there were these three French girls waiting to get their hands on me.”

  “Were they hot?” she asks. She sounds like she’s not sure if she really wants to know.

  “They were ridiculous,” I answer, still trying to figure out Cora’s expression. I carry on anyway. “I took all three back to my hotel room. Two started fooling around with each other, putting on a goddamn lesbian porno for me while the third one just got down on her knees and—…”

  “I think I’m going to go,” Cora says, slamming her empty bottle on the counter and snatching up her jacket.

  “Wait. What happened?” I ask, “I thought we were hitting it off.”

  “We were,” she admits, “But… look, I… I have no delusions here. I know this would probably be just a one-time thing. And that’s totally fine with me. But I can’t stand the idea of hooking up with you if it means absolutely nothing to you and you’re just going to forget about me tomorrow. Or if I’m going to be another crude story you tell the next girl you’re trying to fuck.”

  “Cora, please…”

  She gives me a long once-over. The kind that makes me think that she can see me through to the core. “You’re not the Ian I remember. I don’t know exactly what I expected you to be, but…”

  She sighs, her breath heavy with disappointment, and heads for the door.

  “The Ian you remember was a big dork,” I mutter under my breath.

  She stops, but doesn’t turn around.

  Please, please don’t leave.

  I’ll never be smooth like Jack or command a room like Dylan.

  But I don’t want to pretend around her. I take a deep breath. Time to come clean.

  “Do you remember Susie Li’s party? Freshman year? The one in her basement?” I ask.

  She turns around, nodding slowly.

  I continue, “I was still kind of going through an awkward phase. Everyone knew me as kind of a dork, but my mom and Susie’s mom were friends, so she made Susie invite me.”

  “What about it?” she asks.

  “That’s when I remember first seeing you.”

  She looks touched. “I remember that party,” she says, thoughtfully, “It was the first party I’d ever been invited to where I knew boys would be there. I was so careful not to let my mom find out.”

  I nod. That sounds about right. “You wore a yellow sundress. Your hair was longer then. And I remember thinking that you were so pretty. You didn’t dumb yourself down in front of the guys like the other girls,” I tell her, “And you were the only one who actually talked to me. Everyone else pretty much ignored me.”

  “I remember that,” she says, thinking back to that night. “You really were into anime, right?”

  “Yeah,” I admit. “Still am.”

  That gets a smile out of her.

  “Anyway,” I continue, “Somebody suggested Spin the Bottle and it was your turn to spin and, holy fuck, I was so desperate to kiss you. I don’t think I’d ever wanted anything that much in my life.

  “You spun and it went around and around and I thought it was going to land on me,” I tell her, “My heart was in my fucking throat.”

  I run my hand through my hair and down the back of my neck, the way I normally do when I’m nervous. My eyes are on the floor.

  “But the bottle went right past me and over to…” my voice trails off.

  “Evan,” she chimes in. “I kissed Evan for the first time that night.”

  “Yeah. You kissed Evan. By the end of the party, you were boyfriend-girlfriend.”

  “Yeah,” Cora echoes, lost in thought.

  “And I went home and had a date with my right hand,” I say.

  Cora lets out a snort-laugh and covers her mouth. It’s the cutest noise I’ve ever heard.

  “And from that night on, I always kind of wondered what would’ve happened if that bottle had stopped three seconds earlier.”

  Her voice is barely a whisper. “I’m wondering that too.”

  Silence takes over for a moment.

  There, I think, my cards are on the table. I haven’t felt this vulnerable in a long time.

  “We’re here now,” she says at last.

  Cora picks up her abandoned beer bottle and spins it on the kitchen island. Only, she puts way too much muscle into it and the bottle flies off the counter and shatters on the floor.

  “Oops,” she says, embarrassed. “That’s not what I meant to do.” She tries to bend down and pick up the pieces, but I stop her.

  “I know.” I’m turning red and I don’t care that she sees it.

  Fuck, I want to kiss her.

  She lets out a shaky breath.

  She wants it too.

  “You know the rules.”

  I do.

  I close the distance between us. I pin her to the counter with my hips, my hard cock pressing into her. I look into her eyes, my head swimming with lust. I lean in.

  And crush my lips to hers.

  My heart hammers. My breath catches. I feel like I’ve been knocked over by a tidal wave, pulled under and I’ll never even want to come up for air. I swallow her gasps and the soft mewling noise she makes as she surrenders to my kiss. Her hands travel up my sides, over my shoulders and around my neck, pulling me in closer. My fingers sift through her hair. I tug lightly, making her moan.

  More.

  Faster.

  Harder.

  “Ian,” she whispers as I break the kiss. My name on her lips is fucking music. My mouth trails over her neck and collarbone, kissing and sucking on her skin.

  God, she smells good.

  She tastes better.

  I slip the strap of her dress down and press my lips to her bare shoulder. She tugs at my tee shirt in response.

  “I want it off,” she says, kiss-drunk and delirious, “I want all your clothes off.”

  “Demanding, aren’t we?” I tease.

  She suddenly looks embarrassed, like she’s not sure what came over her. Oh, no. I’m having none of that.

  “I fucking love it, Cora,” I whisper low into her ear, “Tell me what you want, baby. You want me to get naked, just ask.”

  Before my hands know what they’re doing, I pull the shirt over my head, throw it to the floor like it did me wrong, and scoop Cora up into my arms, sitting her on the countertop. My hands run up her thighs towards the hem of her dress. Her breathing is ragged as she runs her hands over my abs, looking at me with hungry eyes, making every grueling workout I’ve ever done completely worth it.

  She runs her tongue over her lips.

  I kiss her again, hard and deep.

  “But I get to make demands too,” I growl.

  “Like what?” she asks feigning innocence.

  “Spread your legs.”

  Suddenly, her eyes spring open.

  I press my lips to her ear and whisper, “I want to work your little pussy with my tongue till you come so hard you can’t see straight.”

  She moans like the dirty talk is affecting her. But, still, she stops me.

  “Oh, it’s okay,” she stammers, “You don’t have to do that part.”

  7

  Ian

  I’m standing, half-naked, in front of Cora, desperate for more of her. She wants me, I can feel it. I can fucking smell it—it’s driving me insane. I’m aching to get my mouth on her.

  But she stops me.

  So, of course, I pull back.

  “What happened?” I ask. “Did I do something?”

  “No,” she says quickly, “Nothing like that. I just… You don’t have to.” She looks away.

  She isn’t just embarrassed. She’s ashamed.

  I touch her chin, delicately. “What if I want to?”

  She looks confused. Like a man wanting to
go down on her is unfathomable.

  Is she serious?

  I kiss her cheek and lean in to whisper in her ear, “I want to make you writhe. And squirm. And scream my name when you lose control.”

  I dip lower and press my lips to that spot under her ear.

  “I want to make you come, Cora,” I whisper, “And I want to taste it.”

  Her body melts into my touch, but her expression is still skeptical.

  “I can’t believe I’m about to ask this,” I say, gently as I can, “But, has anyone ever…”

  She shakes her head no before I finish the question.

  I nearly spit. How is that fucking possible?

  She’s redder than a strawberry. “Evan always told me that guys hate doing that. I felt like it repulsed him. Or like, maybe there’s just something weird about me.”

  Fucking bastard.

  “But let me guess,” I start, “He had no problem asking you to suck him off?”

  “Yeah,” she says, now completely mortified. “You look upset.”

  “Fuck yeah, I’m upset,” I hiss, “What the hell guy has a girl like you and doesn’t drop to his knees and get you to come on his face.”

  She lets out a tiny laugh.

  I take her hands in mine. In this moment, she’s no longer my fantasy girl.

  She’s real.

  Exposed.

  Vulnerable.

  And I want her even more.

  “You have no idea how much I want to make you come, Cora. I’m going out of my goddamn mind,” I tell her, my heart pounding.

  She sighs, relaxing, but still not convinced.

  “Look, I’ve been with one guy, Ian,” she starts. I can tell this is hard for her to say, but her voice remains firm. “Only one guy in my entire life. I know I’m not the kind of girl you’re used to. I can’t compete with three French girls or two skanky groupies or…”

  I can’t stand hearing her put herself down anymore.

  I cup her face and press my lips gently to hers. When she doesn’t back away, I lean in and do it again.

  I groan against her mouth. Even a sweet little kiss with her feels amazing.

  I do it again.

  And again.

  Until I can picture us lying in my bed on a lazy Sunday morning wrapped in a comforter, doing nothing but this.

  She kisses me back.

  And she paws at my chest and drags me in.

  I haul her in closer, deepening the kiss. I feel her nipples harden through her dress. She grips my shoulders. Her lips part, demanding more.

  She wants more, I’ll give her more. I’ll give her everything.

  I pour it all into this kiss.

  I run my fingers down her sides and cup her ass in my hands. I’m hard enough to cut glass. She grinds her hips into me and I grunt as she rubs herself against my erection. I let out a moan. I want her to know exactly what she’s done to me. She’s made me harder than any groupie or French girl or…

  Her nails scrape against my flesh.

  “Yes, baby. Harder,” I husk out, grateful that Cora’s discovered my love of a little pain with my pleasure.

  She digs her nails in deep and pulls.

  The pain make me growl. This is the first time in a long time for me too.

  “That’s it, baby, scratch me. Mark me.”

  Make me fucking bleed if you want to.

  Cora breaks the kiss. “Ian… Fuck,” she whispers, her eyes close and her head rolls back as I cup her breasts and knead her nipples through her dress.

  No bra. Fuck, yes.

  “Oh God,” she moans.

  I’m on fire.

  “Say the word, baby” I seethe, “And I’m on my knees.”

  She lets out a deep sigh.

  “Please.”

  8

  Cora

  “Lift your hips,” he demands.

  I do and he slides my lacy black panties down my thighs, over my knees, and all the way off. They land somewhere on the kitchen floor.

  “Baby, you’re so wet,” he whispers.

  It’s an understatement. I’m fucking dripping.

  I’ve never been this worked up before.

  Ian pushes my dress to my waist, and guides my knees apart. I arch my back instinctively, completely spread out for him.

  He runs a finger over my swollen pussy and parts my seam, dipping one finger inside me. My breath hitches. I press my lips to his neck and moan as he adds another finger and curls them in a come hither motion, hitting just the right spot.

  I drag my lips to his collar bone and trail kisses down over his chest and shoulder. He curls his fingers again. He moves so slowly it’s cruel.

  I sink my teeth into his flesh in retaliation, hard enough to leave a mark.

  His eyes flutter shut. “Oh, fuck,” he groans.

  He groans because fucking likes that. I do it again. Bite him. Claw my nails into his skin. Egg him on.

  “Fucking hell, Cora,” he gasps.

  He keeps his fingers moving. It feels amazing, but I’m craving more.

  “Please, Ian.”

  He stares at me intently, raising his heavy eyelids as if to ask are you sure?

  I nod. I’m sure. I’m really fucking sure.

  He drops to his knees.

  He kisses his way up my inner thigh. Closer and closer to where I need him.

  Then quickly moves to the other side.

  “Fuck you.” I’m so wound up, I nearly scream. “That was mean.”

  I swear I hear his laugh vibrate against my skin.

  A soft sound escapes my lips. As torturous as this is, it still feels fucking good.

  Finally, he shows some mercy.

  He dives between my legs and thrusts his tongue between my lower lips, circling my opening, lapping me up. He repeats the pattern again. And again. I feel the pressure mounting in my belly, like a knot being pulled tighter and tighter and… oh God…

  He focuses on my clit, swirling his tongue around it, then sucks hard enough to make my toes curl.

  My hands roam through his hair and I pull gently as I grind against his face. He moans against me.

  I like that noise. I need more of it.

  He teases my clit with his tongue, over and over. Soft. Then more aggressively. Then sucks the oversensitive bundle of nerves into his mouth.

  Fuck, I’m close.

  So close it hurts.

  He pulls back to look up at me.

  I can’t imagine how I must look right now. Flushed. Dazed. Crazy with lust. A hot mess.

  “Fucking beautiful,” he whispers, his eyelids hooded, his mouth shiny and wet.

  Then he zeroes in on my clit again.

  Hard.

  The tension in my body, the ache in my chest, the knot in my lower belly being pulled tight all release in one beautiful explosion and I tumble into orgasm, moaning his name over and over.

  He keeps his mouth on me, his tongue gently guiding me through the aftershocks.

  When I open my eyes, I see Ian standing in front of me, watching my sweat dry and my heartbeat calm. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and looks at me with a sly grin.

  “Oh my God,” I pant.

  Ian lifts me under my ass and I wrap my legs around his waist, kissing him hard enough to bruise his lips. He kisses me back just as ferociously, our tongues lashing, nails clawing, teeth scraping.

  He tastes like me and it makes me want him more.

  I feel crazy. Like I can’t hold him close enough. Can’t kiss him hard enough. I’ve had my first taste of Ian Brooks and I want more.

  I fucking need it.

  “Bedroom,” I demand, “Now.”

  He nods, attempting to catch his breath. He carries me into the bedroom and throws me onto the king bed.

  I wrestle out of my boots. He undoes my zipper and slides my dress off, tossing it to the floor. I lie, spread out, completely naked in front of him.

  Ian breathes heavily as he hovers over me, looking down like he wants to
devour me, but can’t decide where to start where to start.

  “God, you’re so beautiful,” he tells me in a soft whisper, caressing my cheek like I’m something precious. “You have no idea…” His voice trails off.

  I take his hand in mine and suck his thumb into my mouth. “No idea about what?”

  “How bad… God, I fucking dreamed about this.”

  I pull him down on top of me and kiss him with everything I have.

  He drags his fingertips from my neck to my breasts and over my stomach. It tingles and I writhe at his touch.

  He grins.

  “Ticklish?” he asks.

  I nod.

  “They say ticklish people orgasm faster,” he informs me.

  “Is that true?”

  “Seemed that way.”

  “Maybe I just really want you,” I whisper.

  He lets out a deep, sexy groan and runs his fingers over my stomach once more. I squirm. It’s a light touch, but it’s driving me crazy.

  I feel that knot being pulled again. Slower and more intensely than before. Oh, God, I’m going to come again. And he’s not even inside me yet.

  He keeps going, twisting his fingers into my hair and pulling as he kisses and sucks on my skin.

  Words are failing me. I slip my fingers into his belt loop and tug, hoping he’ll get the hint.

  Take them off and fuck me already.

  He eases back onto his knees, staying mounted over my hips. His eyes don’t leave mine as he undoes the button of his jeans. The zipper. He pulls them past his hips.

  He’s not wearing boxers.

  His hard dick springs forward.

  “Fuck,” I blurt out.

  He’s big. Bigger than I thought. And judging by the smirk on his face, this is clearly the reaction from me that he was hoping for.

  He strokes himself a few times. I arch my back, enjoying the sight of him touching himself. My tongue passes over my parted lips. Before he kicks his jeans off and tosses them to the floor, he digs a condom from his back pocket, tears the foil package with his teeth and rolls it on.

  He straddles my hips. He guides the tip of his cock to my entrance and inches his way inside inside.

  I whimper, my pussy strained, never having taken someone so thick before. It hurts for a second, but as he sinks deeper inside of me, the pain subsides and all I feel is pleasure.