by Jackson, Meg
“It’s just how I eat,” she said, defensively, grabbing the wine and taking a prolonged sip, her eyes flitting to the side, looking out the window at the setting sun. The inside of the trailer was being bathed in a soft, purplish light.
“You eat like a bird,” Kennick said. “Or like you’re afraid to enjoy your food.”
“I’m not,” Kim said, stabbing her fork into the risotto, getting agitated by the way this date was turning out. First the whole “girls are lusting after me” thing, now he was going to tell her she wasn’t eating correctly? “It’s delicious.”
As though to prove him wrong, she slammed the forkful into her mouth, chewing pointedly, matching his gaze. When he broke into a wide grin, she gulped hard. Jesus Christ, it is damn good, she thought. He must have been putting some latent, gypsy psychic abilities to work, because he laughed; a rolling, thunderous bark that warmed Kim’s cheeks through her indignation.
“Little Mayor,” he said, suddenly reaching across the table to cup her cheek. Kim’s eyes widened and her fork clattered to the plate. “You’ve got some spirit…”
She wanted to pull her face away. She wanted to stop the shiver that was racing down her spine. She also wanted to roll her face into his palm, feel his thumb against her lips.
“..but you’re going to make me work to draw it out, aren’t you?” Kennick crooned, pulling his hand away. Kim’s shoulders leaned forward as though to follow it across the table. Her heart was doing double time. He was back at his food, and chased a huge mouthful with half the glass of wine.
“You should eat like you’re mad at me more often,” he said, barely containing his smile. “Eating is a passionate act. It’s carnal, and self-serving, even when you’re eating with another person, or a whole group. It feeds your body and your soul at the same time. A person who’s afraid to eat like they enjoy it, well…that’s not very Rom at all.”
Kim’s stomach flipped as she looked down at her plate. To really dig in, lose herself in the flavors and the act of filling herself with the rich meal, to be – in her mind – a pig, went against anything she’d ever thought about how to behave in public, especially on a date.
But she wanted Kennick to like her. Especially after the way her body had reacted to that touch. She thought the man probably had a lot of tricks up his sleeve beside gourmet cooking. And she very much wanted to see what was under those sleeves of his. If she was going to have to act like a glutton to impress him – so be it.
Putting her indignation aside, she mimicked his actions, loading her fork with a mix of the salad and the risotto and opening her mouth wide to accept it. The flavors danced on her tongue. She gave herself permission to enjoy it – really, truly, enjoy it. And she did. So much so that she moaned involuntarily, her eyes rolling back into her head. She eagerly sipped on the wine to wash it all down, tasting, for the first time, the way the sweet-and-sour liquid brought out the earthy tone of the mushrooms and the sharp green flavor of the kale.
“Now that’s more like it,” Kennick said, taking a break from his half-finished plate, leaning back with one arm spread across the back of the booth.
Chapter Sixteen
“Why did your brother call me Little Mayor? And you called me it, too,” Kim asked. They had finished eating and were sitting outside, letting the warm night close in around them as distant sounds of laughing and music filled the air. Kim had surprised herself by eating the whole plate – with the help of some rather distractingly pleasant conversation, and generous helpings of the strange wine. They were on their second bottle of the unmarked beverage, and Kim had found the taste had grown on her quite a bit.
Kennick shrugged. He was sitting with his long legs splayed out in front of him, feet crossed at the ankles. In contrast, Kim’s legs were bunched up tight beneath her, knees pressed together, toes pointed downward. He eyed her posture and laughed.
“Relax,” he said, patting her thigh – she wondered if he had any possible idea how much that simple action affected her. Her whole body seemed to sigh when he touched her. She wanted him bad. Wanted him inside her, his stubble against her breasts, his hands on her waist…
“I want to know,” she pressed, taking another sip of the wine. She knew she was barreling right around the corner of tipsy into full-on drunk, but she hardly thought Kennick would mind. At least, that’s what the wine told her.
“And I,” he said, turning to her quite suddenly and grabbing the arm of her chair, pulling it across the ground towards him, “want you to relax.”
You’re not making that easy, she thought, heart pounding in her chest from his nearness. He was leaning in close now, his face inches from hers, and she wondered what he would do if she leaned forward, letting her lips close over his…
“Tit for tat,” she slurred, liking the way his face broke into a smile. “You tell me and I’ll…relax.”
“Fair enough,” he said, leaning away. Kim wanted to follow him, her body almost drunk enough to lean in after him. “We call you Little Mayor because…I don’t know. It just seems to fit. You’re all, like…ra-ra-Kingdom, here’s some forms, welcome and how can I help you and all that. A lot more welcoming than your actual Mayor, I’ll add.”
Kim blushed at the memory.
“I really am sorry about that,” she said.
“It’s not your fault,” Kennick said, dismissing her apology. “Now how about that tat?”
Kim’s brow furrowed. Tat? Like tattoo?
When he patted her thigh again, she laughed, and stretched her legs out. She’d been so tense her knee actually popped slightly.
“Ah,” she said. “That kind of does feel good.”
“Old gypsy trick,” Kennick said with a wink.
“What was that other thing you called me? And what is this wine we’re drinking, anyway?” Now, with the alcohol as lubricant, and the immediate ease her new, spread-out stance afforded her, she felt the questions coming easily and was surprised she’d been too afraid to ask them earlier. This guy liked her, dammit. He didn’t seem like the sort who’d invite her over, cook a damn good dinner, and spend an evening under the stars with a girl he wasn’t interested in.
“It’s dandelion wine,” he said. “From a few summers ago. Good, isn’t it?”
“Dandelion? Like, the weed?” she looked into the amber-colored liquid like he’d just told her she was drinking pure squid ink.
“The very same. You can do all sorts of stuff with dandelions. Make a good salad, too. Sometimes weeds surprise you,” he said, looking up at her with a hint of something deeper behind his eyes.
“And that thing I called you earlier,” he continued, surprising her again by reaching out to grab her hand in his. “Keshalyi. They’re good fairies. Kind and beautiful, and always bring good luck.”
“Fairies?” Kim giggled. Kennick did not seem like the kind of guy who’d discuss fairies.
“Of course,” he said, a serious note to his voice. “What’s life without fairies?”
“You don’t actually believe in fairies though, right?” Kim asked as his hand squeezed around hers, making the butterflies in her stomach take flight once more as heat rushed to her cheeks.
“You can choose to believe in anything you want,” Kennick said, looking at her in the darkness. “I choose to believe in fairies and beautiful women and fate and feeling.”
“Everyone believes in feeling,” Kim breathed, lightheaded in his gaze.
“Not just normal feeling, keshalyi. Feeling like this,” he said, and releasing her hand drew his finger up her dress, just barely touching her. As his finger brushed her nipple, it hardened immediately, and when his finger stopped right above her heart, she stopped breathing altogether. His finger continued upward, grazing her neck, making her shiver, until it landed on her lips, which parted for him automatically. “And like this.”
Almost before she knew it was happening, he was kissing her, soft and warm and full, the sort of kiss that made her heart feel full and empty all at
the same time.
In her past relationships, of which there had been five or six serious ones, it had taken a long time before she felt comfortable enough to lay her defenses down and enjoy making love. Often, it was five months or more of pretending to come before she would have an actual climax. It took a long time for her to feel comfortable enough to get out of her head during the act, to forget her body’s flaws and give in to pleasure. Some relationships had ended after a year or more with her faking every orgasm.
In that single kiss, she knew it would not be the case with Kennick.
Her desire was too strong, his masculine scent too inviting, his lips too luscious against hers. She wanted him with a fire she’d never thought possible. And while she’d never let someone see all of her on a first date, it’s what she wanted that night. She wanted his eyes on her, his hands, his mouth. She wanted to be covered in him, to be held by those strong arms, feel him pulsing inside her…
Somehow, they made it to his bedroom.
The walls were painted in a rich, sensuous purple, with a few paintings hanging up that Kim was in no position to study. The smell of incense hung in the air, something exotic and fragrant that called to mind sweet desert oasis and shimmering bells on swaying skirts. Kennick’s lips never left hers as he swept her through the door, shutting it behind them with his foot. Her arms slung around his shoulders, he lifted her and laid her on the bed.
“Are you sure…” he began to say, the question halted when Kim sat up and moved to her knees before him, clutching the bottom of his shirt in her hands and pulling upward. The cellophane covering his new tattoo crinkled and shone in the light, and he ripped it away, the skin underneath still shining and raw.
“I’ve never done this,” she admitted, bringing her lips to his chest and touching the ink with her tongue. “I mean, not on a first date. But I want it…”
“Then you’ll get it,” Kennick promised, grabbing her chin to tilt her head up towards his, stroking her cheek with his thumb, the simple movement so full of promise that she shuddered. Without giving herself time to doubt it, she lifted her dress above her head and threw it to the floor.
“Fuck,” Kennick said as his hands flew immediately to her now-bared waist, his eyes hungry as they travelled up and down her body. Slowly, his hands joined his eyes in their travels, his fingers trailing light shivers up and down her pale, gently sloping sides. Kim let her own hands come to his shoulders as she leaned in, kissing him once more, tasting the wine and him mingling in her mouth.
He pulled his lips away and kissed down her cheek, across her jawline, beginning to nuzzle her neck and taste the sweet flesh there, the quick beat of her heart like a butterfly pulsing in the veins under her jaw. Her flesh raised in goosebumps under his fingertips, until they stalled at the sides of her breasts and his hands opened, his thumbs brushing across her hard nipples, a moan escaping her throat as his kisses dropped lower and lower until they covered her collarbone, her chest, and lower still, his mouth moving from one breast to the other and kissing small circles around her nipples.
His hands cupped each firm, soft globe from the sides and beneath, and when his lips finally landed, soft and warm, over one nipple she cried out and arched her back. He sucked the tender nub into his lips before breaking to do the same for her other nipple, gently teasing her with this thumb and forefinger.
She could feel her wetness dripping down her thighs and she reached down, desperately popping the button of his jeans and ripping the zipper down. His cock burst into her hand, thick and long and veiny, throbbing with desire as she began to stroke it slowly. His groan seemed to vibrate through her tender breasts as he sucked harder on each nipple in turn, now massaging her breasts roughly. When he dropped one hand down her stomach, tracing the curve of her tummy, towards her slit, she parted her thighs for him, feeling the need inside her like an insatiable beast, an animal so hungry and wild that it would devour her any moment.
His fingers traced her wet slit upwards, coming to circle her clit delicately, making her knees shake and give for a moment, her hand still wrapped around his shaft, now slick from drops of pre-cum that coated her palm. He entered her first with his fingers, and her blushing groan filled the night. His thumb remained poised on her clit, circling gently as two fingers pulsed and probed inside her, feeling her readiness and arousal as her pussy ached for more.
“Can’t…can’t wait…” she panted, opening her eyes to find him watching her, studying her. When he crooked his fingers inside her and pulsed, she leaned further towards him, wanting to collapse against him. His thumb began to work harder at her clit, circling it faster as the fingers inside her pressed again and again into some deep and dark pool of pleasure inside her.
“Kennick,” she moaned, never released her hand from his shaft, “I can’t…I’m going….oh, fuck…”
A whirlwind was rising inside her, a storm about to break, the pressure becoming unbearable. Her muscles tensed beyond desire to the point of pain, and as he flicked his thumb over her clit, she gasped, her thighs clenching together instinctively.
“Don’t try to stop it,” he growled, looking down at her, his eyes all possession and flame. “Come for me, Kim.”
And so she did, as his thumb ran along her buzzing clit and his fingers pressed hard against her G-spot, she came, the storm breaking in a torrent of pleasure that stole the cries from her throat and made her toes curl underneath her. She was lost, mind swallowed by pleasure, barely able to hold herself up as he kissed her neck, every sensation perfectly timed to make her climax swell.
When she felt herself lifted, she was still in that dark abyss of ecstasy; she was vaguely aware of Kennick sitting down on the edge of the bed, her form poised above him; when she fully came to, he had slipped a condom onto his throbbing cock and she was straddling him, her soaked entrance just above his massiveness. With a groan, she felt as he circled her waist and pulled her down, stretching her slit as he pressed upward into her.
Slowly, inch by inch, he buried himself inside her until they were eye-level, her hands wrapped around his neck, her hips on his, her clit pressed against his bare stomach, and his cock plunged so deep inside her she could have sworn he was about to pierce her in two. His lips came once more to her neck as he held her in place and began to pump, gently, from below, sliding into her as she clutched his neck tight and let his pulsing hips carry her away again, her still-tingling clit rubbing against him, his massive cock filling her…she needed more.
Struggling to break his grip, she took control, using her thighs to lift herself up and down on his cock, each stroke massaging every inch of her cunt as she took her pleasure, his eyes trapping hers, her face flaming up and her limbs going stiff once more. His cock filled places she’d never even known she wanted filled, made her want to scream in pleasure, and so she did.
“Fuck, Kennick, fuck me,” she cried out, not caring who might hear. “Oh, my God, fuck, I’m gonna come again…”
“Yeah, baby,” he said, grabbing her once more and slamming her down against him with such force that she felt her climax explode inside her instantly. “You are.”
She bucked and shook as he held her, and felt, even through the condom, the familiar gush of cum as he pulsed and came inside her, with her, their hearts synchronized as her pussy milked every inch of cum from his cock and he rammed himself further inside her with each burst, driving her orgasm to deeper and deeper realms. Kim’s arms clasped him around the neck like a vice, his teeth biting gently at her neck as he released the last of himself into her warm and clenching center. When, finally, it was through, they collapsed backwards, Kim still on top of him, her pussy still clenching lightly around his wilting cock.
“Damn, woman,” he breathed. “Got any more surprises for me?”
She giggled, feeling lightheaded and drugged. She rolled off him and lay one hand across her stomach, feeling its contractions dissipate as Kennick disposed of the used condom. After what seemed like a long time, he spo
ke again.
“Tell me about your favorite childhood memory,” he asked, surprising her from her stupored state. She laughed again, brow crinkling.
“Um…why?” she asked.
“How else are we supposed to get to know each other?” he said as though it was the obvious response to her question. She looked at him then, and saw he was being genuine. She rolled over onto her side, thought long and hard, and began talking. They didn’t stop talking for a long time, laying in his bed, each telling story after story and discussing the finer points of their own minds. Before Kim knew it, she realized it had to be past midnight.