His eyes stuttered closed at that. She wasn’t sure why, however. Was it still her teasing tone? Or more the idea of her doing whatever he wanted? Both, she thought, if his manner was anything to go by.
It was somehow shaky, yet as brisk as a man who planned this for years.
“Okay, so first off, I want you wet.”
“I think we can safely check that box. I soaked my panties back when you started talking about coming and jerking off and fucking my tits.”
“I figured, but soaking your panties really isn’t enough. I want you drenched. I want you so wet it’s all over your thighs and ass and my bed.”
She swallowed thickly, thinking of all the ways he could accomplish that.
Or maybe something else, something he hadn’t mentioned and she couldn’t think of.
“Uh-huh. And how…how do you…”
“Intend to do that? Think we should start by getting those jeans off.”
As soon as he said the words, she started wriggling out of them, fingers quick and eager on the buttons, mind barely glancing against the idea of what she was revealing.
Until he spoke, in a voice as thick as honey.
“No, no. Slower. Do it slower than that.”
“Why do you need me to go slower?”
“So I can jerk off while you do.”
“You really…that really…you…”
“God yeah. Come on, baby. Tease me.”
“I don’t know if I’m capable of…teasing.”
“Want to see what a good job you’re doing already?”
She nodded the moment he said it, so quick and eager he kind of laughed. But it was fine—it was a good laugh. The kind that unwound all the tension in her, and left nothing behind but anticipation. She was practically buzzing by the time he knelt, breath coming in shaky pants, hips rocking against nothing.
And then he eased his cock out, and all she could do was moan.
He hadn’t been lying—it looked heavier and more swollen than she’d ever seen it. When he fisted it, liquid welled at the tip and spilled down over his fingers. It seemed to jump in his hand, and again when he realized what she was doing. He watched her slide off the bed, still nervous but determined, and that hand sped up on his dick. A groan escaped him, loud enough that she found herself going for the buttons on her jeans before he said another word. She even managed to shove them down and off, without thinking too much about her jiggly thighs and her rounded hips.
In fact, she didn’t think about anything, until he spoke.
“Turn around.”
“What? What do you—”
“Turn around, honey. Show me those cute little panties clinging to that peach of an ass.”
“I really don’t think it’s much of a peach. More like a…bag of hammers.”
“Don’t think I’d need to stop myself coming over a bag of hammers.”
She flushed at those words. Partly because they were filthy.
But mostly because she knew they were true. He was as flushed as she felt and so lax looking, sprawled back on the bed like she’d somehow cut all the tendons in his body. One big hand at the base of his cock, squeezing hard enough to make her wince. Then on his balls, tugging and tugging as though that might make the slightest bit of difference.
It didn’t, however. His cock was still leaking streamers of pre-come at the end of all that effort. His hips were still bumping up, as if he could already feel her pussy sinking down on him. And the situation only got worse when she tentatively did as he had asked. He actually moaned once she was standing there with her back to him, clad only in her T-shirt and underwear.
And said things.
Oh, the things.
“Oh fuck, that’s good. Yeah, that’s good. Now just…just bend over a little. Let me see that sweet pussy pouting between your legs. Let me see how wet you’re getting.”
“I think the answer might be very. God, I had no idea.”
“No idea about what, baby?”
“That taking off my clothes could feel this good. That it could turn me on. It’s always been something I did in the dark, under sheets. Most of the time I don’t think I undressed at all. But man, just hearing you do that and talk like this…I can’t even describe it.”
“Try for me. Tell me everything, tell me all of it.”
“It’s like falling from a tall building only to discover you can suddenly fly.”
The words came in too much of a rush to stop—though she wished she had managed as soon as they were out. They just sounded so ridiculous. This was supposed to be sex, not sudden deep poetry feelings time.
Yet there they were, and he had heard them, and strangely, she wanted to stand by them. She even lifted her chin, defiant.
And got this, as her reward.
“You have no idea how good that is to hear.”
“I do know. I can hear it, too. I can hear it, and I know it’s true.”
“What makes you so sure? What makes things different now?”
“The fact that I’m not afraid to do more.”
She turned on the last word, hands already grasping the hem of her T-shirt. One swift motion and it was off, bra and all. Now she was utterly naked before him, without the comfort of that dim light in the barn or her own arms across her body. She let them hang at her sides, only moving them when it seemed like the most exciting thing to do. The sexy stripper thing to do—fingers threading through her own hair, back slightly arched, everything tilted at just the right angle.
And it was the right angle, too.
She could tell by the expression on his face, suddenly so much heavier. His eyes narrowed to slits and that tongue came out to wet his lips—only this time she recognized it for what it was. He was echoing the thing he wanted to do to her clit. Or at least, he was pushing her to think of that. To get her to imagine the soft, slow glide of it, until she could hardly stand it any longer.
She had to slide a hand between her legs.
It was pretty much a given, and yet the response…
“Ohhhhh fuck yeah, touch yourself.”
It was like she’d never done it for him before. Like he’d never seen anyone do it. His head went back and his fist tightened on his cock, only the tightening didn’t seem to help. It just made him buck and groan and writhe on the bed, and when he finally wrestled back control of himself, it was purely to demand more.
“Slide a finger into your pussy,” he said.
So she did. No qualms, no worries.
Just one foot up on the bed, so he could really see.
And then a torrent of words, each filthier than the last.
“Are you wet?”
“Soooooo wet.”
“And tight?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Use another finger. Yeah, like that. Work them in and out.”
“Like this? Is this what you want?”
“Almost. Just…just…spread them as you ease out.”
“So I can take that big cock? Huh?”
“So it feels good, baby. Go on. It’s gonna feel so good.”
He was right about that much. It did feel good.
But it was even better when he took over. He suddenly lurched forward just as she was getting to the second long, slow push and pull, hands immediately going to her hips. That soft mouth not on her breasts or her pussy but on the soft swell of her belly, kissing and kissing until she couldn’t do anything but fold down over him. She wrapped her arms around his head, briefly burying her face in his hair. All focus on her still aching sex completely lost.
Until she felt him stroking there. First softly, cautiously, as if just testing the waters.
Then he slid two fingers in, and god.
She could have drowned in the sensation it produced. It was some kind of unholy cross between a tingle and a pulse, and it only got more intense as time passed. He kept spreading his fingers as he eased back out again, and whenever he did it was like getting an electric shock straight to the clit. Once
or twice she was sure she felt it in her teeth and her toes and the tender place behind her knees.
And when he added a third finger, she definitely did. Her legs immediately decided to not hold her up anymore. He had to sort of catch her and help her back onto the bed.
But that worked out pretty well. Now he was between her legs, most of his body in the right position for sex. Basically all he had to do was find a condom and they were good to go. More than good to go, in fact. She was so wet she could hear what he was doing to her—and she got wetter yet when he started in on her clit. He found it with his thumb as he twisted and parted those three maddening fingers, rubbing until she was nearly beside herself. She tried to breathe but no air seemed to want to go in. Her back had arched so hard she felt sure she could have kissed her own ass.
Sucking one of her nipples into his mouth was pretty much the worst thing he could have done.
Yet he went ahead and did it anyway. He swirled his tongue around one tight peak, and as soon as he did pleasure punched through her. She moaned his name, so clearly wanting more it felt spelled out in neon.
However, he still didn’t seem inclined to go any further.
It was she who had to prompt him to get a condom, and even after he’d managed to find a serviceable one he still looked strange. His whole body was shuddering, hard enough to make his teeth chatter. She had to put her hands on his face to calm him down—though it had very little effect. He still fumbled with the foil and fucked it up a dozen times, until she simply had to step in.
Partly because her patience was at an end.
But mostly because holy fuck was it hot to see him behave this way. For a brief moment, he wasn’t Tate Sullivan, Super Stud Sexual Expert. He was Tate Sullivan, awkward virgin. He knew no more about what he was doing than she did—less than that, in fact. Her hands weren’t shaking as she opened the packet. They didn’t even shake when she rolled the condom over his insanely hard cock.
However, his were still shaking when she asked him to take off the rest of his clothes. He could barely get out of his T-shirt. She had to help him with his jeans, but when she did the trembling only got worse. “I’m going to go off if you touch me one more time,” he said, and she had to be honest. She knew exactly how he felt. Just hearing him say it was arousing enough. But combined with all the rest of it, with his sudden awkwardness and the sense of anticipation all tight and heavy in the air and then him over her…
Jesus, he was big over her.
Sometimes he was so different, so weird and smart and kind, that she forgot his cock was enormous. But she remembered it now, and for the first time truly reveled in it. She ran her hands up the arms he put on either side of her, feeling every plane and knot. Feeling the power there, held so carefully in check—and knowing that he held it for her.
It made her want to grin wildly and cry all at the same time.
In truth she probably would have if she hadn’t felt him brush the head of his cock over her slick slit.
After which, all other considerations fell by the wayside. All she could think about from then on was the pure sensation of him, sliding back and forth through her slick folds. The deliberation of it, the care he took—and of course the terrible fucking tease it soon became. After a second she was almost holding her breath, and doubly so whenever the swollen head of his cock grazed her entrance. Sometimes he did it slow and sometimes he did it fast, but it was always delicious agony.
Though it was his gaze that really got her. The one he locked on her the moment he started whatever this was, eyes wide and shot through with a million emotions she had never imagined he would feel. It felt like she was supposed to be nervous, she was supposed to be scared. But it was his brows that were knotted in the middle and his teeth sunk deep into his lower lip. He was the one who cursed and dropped his head—partly, she thought, because of the sensation.
Oh god yeah, the sensation was definitely getting to him.
But it was mainly the other stuff. She knew it was, before he even confirmed.
“I can’t, I can’t, I don’t want to hurt you,” he gasped, and she wondered if he knew what it sounded like.
More like I don’t want to seem as if I hate you than hurt you.
And especially after she replied.
“You won’t. I trust you. Go on.”
His expression shifted the moment she did, that frown dissolving down into the sweetest sort of relief she had ever seen. It looked to her like he’d been waiting for a hint of it for a thousand years, and now that he had it he could finally rest. He could just give in to everything he was feeling, without restraint or hesitation. No holding back anymore—and good god, was she ever grateful for that.
Just the feel of him easing into her—astonishingly painless and as easy as anything—was enough to leave her wasted. But the way he surrounded her with his arms as he did it, the way he kissed her, as though barely able to contain his affection and gratitude—it was beyond anything she thought sex could be. For the first time, she understood the connection between the physical and the emotional. Every hint of his tenderness toward her fueled the pleasure sparking between her legs, and every spark of pleasure made her cling to him tighter.
It made her kiss him back with the same need—like this was the last time she’d ever get to do it. And when he started moving, that feeling only doubled. Suddenly she couldn’t get enough of him. Her hands wouldn’t hold him tightly enough and her kisses weren’t as deep as she wanted them to be. Even smothering him with them wasn’t enough, because when she did he made the most adorable faces.
He tried to grin and gasp at the time, pushing himself into every one of the soft touches of her lips against his jaw, his throat, his cheek. Like a puppy, she thought, seeking affection, then only wanted to do it more. She nuzzled him back, and he pretty much lost it. He said her name over and over, hands fisting in her hair and mouth suddenly hard on hers.
Though he still didn’t do the one thing she really needed: move. God, she needed him to move. The sensation of his cock filling her was almost too much to stand—it sent this deep ache through her belly, all hot and sweet and good. It made her moan every time he so much as shifted position, that shaft so thick it brushed the best places inside her whether he wanted it to or not.
After the third nudge against that bundle of nerves, she honestly started to think she could come like this. Just from the pressure of him right there, right fucking there all thick and heavy.
And especially after she tried a little experimental squeeze.
It was barely anything, really. She didn’t even mean to do it—another wave of sensation hit her and it just happened, like a reflex. But man, did it have an effect. The pulse that went through her was almost painful, so low down and heavy that she couldn’t even get out the moan she wanted to make. She just had to lie there, shuddering and bucking, as it tapered off.
Then rose again, with his reaction. His face went slack at the feel of her, eyes rolling up in his head. But most important, as soon as it really hit him, he seemed unable to stop himself pushing against her. Just a little, but a little was a lot when you had what he did. She practically felt him in the back of her throat. She had to put her hands on his shoulders and push down—though after she had she wondered why she’d bothered.
This time, that pulse was insane.
It made her grunt; she actually grunted, and her response to his shock was not the one she expected. He went utterly still, clearly concerned, and then suddenly she was moving. Really, really moving, as though she could somehow fuck him from beneath all that bulk.
And as it turned out, she could.
All she had to do was shift a little and clamp his body between her thighs, and she could rock. She could work herself against his swollen cock, until that sweet ache returned with a vengeance. It took root in her belly, so hot and thick she wanted to scream.
Then settled for moaning. Lots and lots of moaning, and maybe some clawing at him, most of her lo
st to the realization that sex could be this good. Not even sex, really, because he wasn’t doing anything. He was just watching, astonished, as she used him—because that was definitely what she was doing. She was taking her pleasure from him, so eager she didn’t even stop to think about how she looked or what he thought.
Or at least, she didn’t until he gasped oh fuck, baby, fuck yes just do it, do it, come all over my cock.
After which, everything seemed to ratchet up a notch. His hand went to her ass and squeezed, urging her on and on until she was moaning his name and trembling all over. That hot mouth was suddenly back on her throat and jaw, kissing and kissing—and then there was the best part. The sexiest, most awesome part.
He started urging himself against her.
Not a lot. Just a little. Just enough to make the pleasure build and build to some incredible crescendo.
Before crashing down over her, hard. “Tate,” she gasped, “Tate.”
And then it was happening. Her pussy was tightening hard around his cock, that ache swelling way past their point of connection. She felt it in her clit and her belly, before it spread further. It stroked over her nipples and her throat, slowly turning into a fizzing sweetness she couldn’t quite take. She just jerked against him, filthy sounds pushing past her lips unchecked.
And that was the moment he chose to tell her to turn over.
“I want to fuck you like that,” he said, tone suddenly so gruff it almost made her come all over again. At the very least she groaned for it, deep and long, and when he sat back she didn’t hesitate. She turned without a thought to how she looked, the only impediment her suddenly loose limbs. Her arms didn’t seem to want to work properly nor did her legs—but that was fine.
Better than fine, in fact.
It meant he just did it all for her. He manhandled her into position, that strength suddenly apparent enough that she found herself babbling. “Ah yeah take me, baby, take me,” she gasped, as if she’d become a completely different person. A greedy, lust-driven person, who keened when the fat head of his cock slipped into her and pushed back against him almost immediately. She didn’t even wait for him to slide all the way in. She just bucked until he was there, then worked herself over it just as she had from underneath him.
Never Sweeter (Dark Obsession #1) Page 20