by Penny Wylder
"Fuck," I manage through gritted teeth.
He's still watching me, those blue eyes of his darker now, filled with lust. It's even hotter when he looks at me, when he savors my reactions as he makes me feel whatever he wants me to feel. "You are so beautiful," he murmurs. Then he draws his finger out of me, spreads it against my thigh instead, and replaces it with his tongue.
His tongue is white-hot, a curl of muscle against my inner walls. He explores me inch by inch, swirling his tongue inside my pussy, then licking along my slit before he flattens his tongue and laps at my clit in slow, flat strokes.
This time it's less intense, more of a slow build. But it still doesn't take long before I'm arching up against him, my hands buried in his hair, my throat raw from crying out each time he strokes along me.
Just when I'm at the peak, I tighten my hands into fists. "Fuck, Zayne, I'm going to come," I groan.
He stops, and I lift my head to stare down at him with a frustrated gasp of protest. "Don't come until I tell you to," he says, eyes fixed on mine.
I swallow hard. Nod.
Then he licks me again, and resisting the urge to go over the edge is the hardest thing I've ever done. I have to clench my fists, dig my nails into my palms, focus on that instead of the pleasure rocketing through me.
"I can't... I have to come..."
He stops licking me again, starts to finger me instead. "You can control it."
"Not... with you... doing that," I point out, especially when he drags that finger along my front wall again, right over my G-spot. I feel like I'm going to burst, like the pressure will make me explode.
"Do you want to come for me?"
"Please, please yes."
He keeps fingering me without responding for a moment, watching me as though he's debating. Deciding.
"Please let your slut come for you," I whisper, eyes locked on his.
He grins. "You are a good slut..." He slides his finger out of me. "You can come for me now, slut." Then he licks me once more, hard and fast, and that's the last thing I can process before I let the orgasm hit me.
I can vaguely hear myself screaming his name. The rest is just a flood of pure pleasure, more intense than I've ever felt before. My nerve endings are on fire, and my pussy clenches, my body shaking of its own accord as I fall over the edge.
When I finally come back into myself, Zayne has wrapped his arms around my waist, and he's pulling me upright. I try to stand, find my legs are too shaky, and lean against him for support.
"That good?" he asks, but with a cocky smirk that tells me he knows exactly how good it was.
In response, I grab his face with both hands and kiss him hard. I taste myself on his lips, a salty tang that's even hotter combined with his flavor, his scent. He parts his mouth, swirls that magic tongue of his around mine.
But it's my turn now.
I break away from the kiss and drop to my knees before him. I steal a peek up at him, and find him watching me with wide eyes, as though surprised. "What's the matter?" I ask, running a finger along the side of his cock, so lightly that I'm barely touching. "Haven't you ever made a girl hungry for your cock before?"
His grin deepens. "I mean this in the best possible way, Clove, but I have never met a woman quite like you before."
I grin back and circle my hand around his cock fully. God, my fingers don't even fit all the way around him, he's so thick. I lift my other hand too, wrap them both along him, and stroke his length. He's silky smooth in my hand, velvety soft over a hard steel core. I lean in to lick the tip of his cock, where a single drop of precum gathered. The taste. I've heard friends talk about loving the taste of cock before, or their boyfriends' cum, but I've never quite understood it. Not until now.
He sucks in a deep breath through his teeth. "Fuck."
I press my lips around his head and slowly lean forward, sliding his cock into my mouth. His hands bury in my hair, fists clenching until my eyes water from the pull. I don't mind. The pain adds to the pleasure, and I love that he's losing himself so much he can't concentrate on anything else. I dig my tongue into the underside of his cock as I pull him deeper, deeper into my mouth. At the same time, I reach up with both hands to clench his ass hard, and use that to push him against me.
Fuck, he tastes so good. My jaw aches, stretching wide enough to take him in, but I love it, love the sensation of his cock filling my mouth.
When he's as far in as I can take him, his tip almost touching the back of my throat, I lean back to pull him out again. Then I pause to trail my tongue along the side of his cock, licking him from tip to base and back again.
"I want to suck you off. I want to take your cock into my throat," I tell him.
His eyebrows rise. "Have you ever deep-throated before?"
I shake my head, stroking him with one hand as I lock eyes with him. "I want to learn."
He laughs, eyebrows still lifted, incredulous. "God, you're a thirsty little slut, aren't you?"
"Very." I grin.
I take him back into my mouth, and this time, when I have him fully inside, I look up at him, waiting. He tightens his grip on my hair and gazes down at me.
"Relax." He presses his hips forward gently, an inch at a time.
I force my jaw to relax, and my throat too. There's a moment where my body clenches, and I cough, but he just keeps pressing forward, hands caressing my scalp.
"Don't think too much about it. Just give in. Let me take control."
So I do. I surrender. Let him push into me, his cock inching down my throat until my lips touch the base of his cock. I lift one hand to roll his balls through my fingers, and he sucks in another sharp breath as he starts to lean back, draw himself out of my mouth.
"Fucking hell, Clove," he manages between hard breaths. "You're a natural."
We pick up the pace, him leading, thrusting against me, and I keep toying with his balls, my other hand digging into his ass as he starts to move faster and faster, until it feels like he's fucking my face, thrusting against me with abandon. I love it, and even more than that, I love looking up at the lost expression on his face, the one distracted by pleasure, his eyelids half-closed, mouth slack.
Finally, without warning, he pulls out of my mouth and staggers backward, his cock glistening with my saliva, still rock-hard and pulsing in the cool apartment air. I lean back on my heels, pouting, disappointed. I wanted to taste his cum. Wanted to feel him come in my throat.
"Not yet," he says, eyes back on me, as though reading my thoughts. "Stand up, Clove."
I rise on still-shaky legs, and he immediately wraps an arm around my waist, crushes his mouth to mine.
"I want to fuck you properly first," he whispers against my lips.
I grin and kiss him again, softly. "Mm, I suppose I'm okay with that."
He bends to his jeans, digs in the pockets for a condom. When he unwraps it, I reach for it, and he laughs and lets me take it. I slide it down his cock, savoring the feeling of his hardness between my palms as I do.
"Clove..."
With the condom on, I look up to find him watching me steadily, a hungry gleam in his eye. "Zayne?"
"You drive me absolutely wild."
My cheeks flush. "I could say the same for you."
He laughs. "Good." Then he wraps his arms around me and forces me backward a step. Another step. And another, until we crash onto the couch, and he's lying along me, and our lips collide again, his hot and possessive. "You're mine," he growls against my mouth, and I arch up against him to emphasize the point, sighing in the back of my throat with agreement.
He spreads my thighs, pushes his hips between them, and I wrap my legs around his waist, angling my hips to give him the best access. "Have I told you how fucking gorgeous you are?" he murmurs as he strokes his cock between my lips, tracing the length of my slit. He runs from my ass all the way up to dig lightly against my clit, before he slides back down. I'm soaking wet again already, both from how turned on I got sucking his cock a
nd from his ministrations now, and it doesn't take long before his head is coated in my juices.
"You might have mentioned." I smirk, and he leans down to nip my neck lightly.
"Good. Because you need to know that, Clove. That, and that you are the sexiest, hottest, naughtiest slut I've ever had the pleasure of being with."
I laugh a little and trace my hands over his back. Shit, even his back is muscular, chiseled to perfection. I let my hands slide down to his hips, his ass, and I grip his ass tightly, my nails digging into his skin a little, his muscles tense and strong beneath my fingers. "I have to admit, I don't think I've ever felt like being quite so slutty for someone before."
He grins. "Even better." He's still stroking me slowly with his cock, teasing again. It makes my muscles tense with anticipation, my throat dry and body trembling.
"Fuck, Zayne..."
"Is that what you want?" he whispers into the crook of my neck as he layers kisses along my collarbone. "You want me to fuck you?"
"Fuck yes."
He pauses right at my entrance. Adding pressure but not enough to push his cock inside me, not yet. I arch my hips up toward him, but he catches them in both hands and pins me against the couch, holding me down. "What do you say?" he asks with a glint in his eye.
"Please," I gasp.
Only then does he thrust inside me, his hands still wrapped around my hips so tight I can feel each of his fingers imprinted.
And his cock. Fuck.
He stretches my pussy wide, makes me feel tight around him. He's thick, and so long that when he pushes all the way into me, I can just feel his tip bottoming out at the end of my pussy, buried as far inside me as possible.
Both of us moan, our faces pressed together, his stubble on my cheek. It feels so fucking good, his warm skin on mine, his muscles hard everywhere that I'm soft, his cock thick and pulsing with desire inside me.
For a second, he turns his head, and our eyes meet, both of us lost, distracted by the sensation. The way that it feels like relief, scratching an itch I never knew I had. Finding home again.
Then he bites my earlobe sharply and that pulls me back into myself, into the physical sensations.
"Zayne," I murmur as he pulls back out of me again. My pussy tightens, contracts as it adjusts to his girth, and he sucks in another sharp breath at that feeling.
"Fuck, Clove. You are so fucking tight. So wet and hot..."
"Fuck me, Zayne. I want to feel your cock claim every inch of my pussy."
He pins me against the couch with a growl and starts to thrust in a rhythm, faster with each motion. His cock glides in and out of me, slick with my juices, and every time he slams back into me, my body rocks with the sensation. I strain to thrust against him, to match his pace, but he keeps me pushed against the couch, controlling the motion, controlling me, my pleasure, my body. I surrender to him, loving the feeling of giving up control.
He locks eyes with me as we fuck, flattens one palm against my belly to keep hold of me and lifts the other to run through my hair. He brushes it off my face, then grabs a fistful and pulls me into a deep kiss, his tongue invading my throat as he continues to fuck me.
It doesn't take long for the sensations to build toward a peak, my clit still sensitive to the point of almost feeling sore from my orgasm earlier. He bends down to kiss my neck, my ear, then tilts my head back, exposing my throat for him to run his tongue along.
"Fuck, Clove," he hisses again. I tighten my pussy, clench around him, and he groans aloud.
Then, without warning, he pulls back. Grabs both of my ankles and flings them up over his shoulders, all the while still fucking me, his balls slapping against my ass. I arch my hips, and with my legs over his shoulders, he's fucking me from below, so his cock drags along my front inner wall, his tip slightly curved upward, running right over my G-spot. I cry out, the cry dissolving into a moan as he continues to fuck me hard.
"God, I'm going to come. Zayne. Zayne," I repeat, muscles clenched, hands in fists around his biceps.
"Come for me baby," he growls, and relief floods me for a moment. If he'd asked me to stop, to hold it back like last time, I don't know that I could have. I'm already right at the brink, speeding toward it, and his thick cock against my G-spot isn't helping me fight it.
"Fuck," I cry out, right as the orgasm hits. Every nerve ending in my body sparks, and my pussy spasms around his cock, the muscles clenching and releasing in quick succession as I come hard around him.
For his part, he moans and keeps thrusting, his hands on my calves now, gripping hard as he fucks up against me. The orgasm keeps going, lingers, and it starts to build again almost straight away, and I moan aloud, the pleasure so intense it borders on painful, but in the best possible way. I want him to fuck me forever.
He sees me twist and writhe beneath him, feels the way I tighten again around his cock. He lets go of my leg with one hand and reaches down to stroke my clit within easy reach of his hand. He grins as he does, taking in my pleasure, enjoying knowing how hot he gets me.
I scream this time, louder, as the second orgasm washes through me. He keeps stroking my clit, even as I jerk and twist beneath him. And then he drops his hand, drops my legs back down to the couch and lies along me, our bodies flush, as he fucks me harder. His cock plunges in and out of me, and his balls hit my ass hard on every thrust.
I wrap my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck.
"Fuck, Clove, I'm going to come."
"Come for me," I murmur into his ear.
He pulls my head back, looks straight into my eyes as he finishes, groaning deep in his throat, a desperate sound that's almost a growl. I love that, love the desperate look in his eyes, the way his body shakes in my arms.
When he finally collapses against me, we keep our arms around one another, both of us breathing hard, our bodies slick with sweat. I can feel his heartbeat hammering, and my own pounding back against it, our chests pressed together. When he finally leans back to catch my eye again, we both laugh, half-delirious.
"Fucking hell," he murmurs before he kisses me again, softer this time. More sensitive.
"I know," I whisper when we break apart once more. Our eyes lock, and there's something about him, about his eyes, his touch... the way that felt.
When he pulls out of me, I have to fight the urge to let out a sigh of protest. I want him back inside me already; I want to stay as close to him as possible, both of us basking in the aftermaths of our orgasms.
Luckily he doesn't stay apart from me for long. He scoops me up into his arms and carries me through the apartment, toward his bedroom. It's a different layout than mine, I notice, a little larger, more open-plan. I like it. And he's decorated it well too, not like the typical bachelor pad. It's all modern designs and simple, tasteful furniture.
Then I forget about the apartment, because he's setting me down on the bed and curling in beside me, and I'm lost in his kiss again.
A few minutes later, we lie side-by-side on our backs, staring up at his ceiling, still breathless, our bodies slick with sweat, sticking together.
“Bet you never expected your doorman could do that,” Zayne says, a little smirk dancing across his lips.
I lean in to kiss the corner of that smirk. “I knew he was good at fighting off bad guys,” I say. “I had no idea he was such a naughty guy himself.”
“Only when inspired,” he replies, and I laugh, remembering our conversation in the café earlier.
“So what else inspires you?” I ask, settling into his arms.
“Music mostly,” he replies. “If we’re talking that kind of inspiration.”
“What type?”
“Indie bands, classic rock… Little bit of everything really. It’s the best part of my day sometimes, just heading into the stock room to get everything ready, listening to the perfect playlist.”
“Make me one sometime?” I ask, and then feel my cheeks flush. Was that weird to ask? Is this just a hookup, can we do things lik
e make each other playlists?
But Zayne is already nodding, his eyes bright with ideas. “Definitely. I know what to put on it already.”
“You do?”
He tightens his arms around me. “I thought of the perfect song the moment I met you.”
I laugh. But he doesn’t. I turn in his arms to meet his eye. “Really?”
“Sometimes people just do that. People who really click with me. It makes a song come into my head, and I want to share it with them…”
“Can you play it for me?”
He reaches across me for his phone. For a moment, I regret the lack of warmth where his arm had been a moment before. But then he’s back, phone in hand, and I snuggle into his side as he cues up the music.
I’ve never heard the song before. Don’t recognize the band either, but I love the rhythm. It’s an acoustic guitar, and a soulful singer, singing about a girl he once met, but never knew her name. It’s sweet and sad all at once, and as I curl up against his side and listen to the lyrics, my head fills with a pleasant buzz. This feels right. Zayne feels right. I don’t know how to describe it.
When we finally drift off an hour later, my body curled up to his wrapped around me, arms around my waist, cradling me against him, I have one last thought before I drop off into sleep.
Uh oh.
5
I wake up the next morning, and for a moment, I'm disoriented. This looks like my apartment. Sounds like my apartment. There's the same distant blare of traffic and the same slant of sunlight through the standard-issue blinds. But the bed feels softer beneath me than I'm used to. And I'm warmer than I'm used to, too. Mostly because there's a very warm body curled against mine, and a strong arm wrapped protectively around my waist.
I shift a little and feel something else press against me. A hard, thick cock prodding my ass.
Then I remember last night. Everything from the coffee date all the way to our wild session on the couch. I smile and turn my head to peek over my shoulder.
Zayne blinks at me, sleepy, still waking up. But he probably has the same idea that I do, because a moment later, he shifts his hips against mine, and his cock digs harder against my ass.