Bad Medicine (Wolf Love Book 4)

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Bad Medicine (Wolf Love Book 4) Page 14

by Red L. Jameson


  “Give me a sec. I’m thinking about it.”

  I nod again while he’s slathering shampoo through his hair. His movements are more jerky than usual. And I wonder if his hands are shaking.

  We change once more as he rinses his own hair and looks at me as he’s slick from water and smelling so clean I’m thinking about biting him. I don’t know why I have that impulse, but I do.

  “I watch you first.”

  I blink. “You mean, I have to…touch myself first, then you?”

  He nods.

  I blink again, feeling like I’m fluttering my lids as I contemplate if I can masturbate in front of him. Since I know the reward would be to watch him, I might be able to pull it off. Besides, I’m so incredibly turned on I already want to run a finger over my clit.

  I swallow and nod. “Deal.”

  Chapter Sixteen - Ryder

  A few crystals of water are still clinging to the parts of Asha’s skin I can see around her towel, making her look like a sparkling goddess. She probably is. No, I know she is. She’s mesmerizing me. I’m so turned on. My dick is so hard. And I haven’t even touched her. She hasn’t touched me.

  If I ever do make love to her, I might have an out-of-body experience. I might have a heart attack. I might fall in love with her.

  Already, my heart, the thing I didn’t know how to access when I was around anyone except my sister, Neil, and Adam, is so affected by her.

  We’re close to my bed, smiling at each other. Sometimes, we nervously laugh. And we keep looking at each other like we can’t believe what we’re doing, but we’re doing it anyway.

  For me, sex has always been an ends to a means. I wanted to come and fucking was a great outlet to do that. But I’ve never felt anything like what I do for Asha. I’m smiling. I’m laughing. My heart feels like it’s beating so hard it’s etching designs into my ribs. I’m having fun. And, yes, sex is fun. But I never really made it that way. I made it about the ends—her coming then I could. So, fucking was really good, but there wasn’t this sense of play. It’s like Asha and I are playing. Not that we’re playing pretend. But that we’re having such a blast.

  I don’t know. It just feels fucking fantastic.

  “Can I…” I have to swallow because my voice is gravellier than usual. “Can I kiss you?”

  She smiles widely. “Yes.”

  I narrow the small gap between us, needing her like I’ve never needed anyone before. I’m not sure how to touch her, since she and I are only wearing towels, but my lips slam home before I can figure it out.

  For a moment, I forget our deal, forget that I’m trying to win this girl over, because she feels so good as I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her close, my chest against her towel-covered breasts, which I now know are fucking perfect. They’re high and round, and her nipples…In the shower, I wanted them in my mouth so bad I wondered if my muscles were fissuring, splintering apart with this want of mine.

  Her tongue’s in my mouth. I’m trying to keep up with her fast and hard movements. She’s channeling her fingers through my wet hair. She pulls slightly when she makes fists. I moan and push all of my body against her, my cock against her belly. God, she feels good. So fucking good.

  Somehow though, she’s pushing away.

  “Hold this,” she whispers.

  I’m in such a lusty haze, I do as she asks, not realizing for probably a full five seconds, that I’m holding her towel and she’s backing away from me. Naked. Her smile’s huge. While she’s naked. I wonder if she has a clue how seductive she is as she pushes her hair from her face. Naked.

  God, her body. I want to touch every inch of it.

  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a great kisser?”

  I shake my head.

  She sighs as the backs of her legs bump against my bed. “You are. You make me crazy. Just from one kiss.” Her fingers trail across her full, so full lips. Her lids close like she’s savoring the memory of my kiss.

  I didn’t think I could get any harder. Not without being inside her. But, fuck if my dick isn’t thickening even more. My balls are so tight. Like I might come just by watching her.

  When she lowers one of her hands to the space between her breasts, I realize I really could come just by watching her. Fuck, this is hot.

  “Ryder?”

  “Yeah, baby.”

  “Do you like my breasts?” Her hand wanders to the underside of one of her globes.

  “Yeah, baby. I really do. They’re so perfect.”

  “What would you do if you touched them?”

  “I’d want to feel you in my palm.”

  She cups one of her breasts like I told her I would, and I smile at this game. Oh, am I going to play with her.

  “I’d caress you.” My voice is rough and I have to clear it. “I’d gauge how you like to be touched. I’d watch you, trying to make you moan as I rubbed my palm against your hard little nipple.”

  With both her hands, she moves them up and down, up and down against her beading dark pink buds. She throws her head back, moaning.

  “That does feel good.”

  “Not as good as my mouth.” I rake a hand through my hair as I watch her turn herself on. “I’d bend down and take your nipple in my mouth and I’d suck you. I’d suck until you arched your back, until you clamped your fists in my hair, begging me.”

  She pinches both of her nipples, moaning, then asking, “Begging you for what?”

  “You’d beg me to keep my mouth on you. But it feels so good you want more.”

  She nods and, with her hands still on her breasts she sits on my bed, scooting back. “Yes. I want more.”

  “I’ve made you jump over the cliff, where you can’t stop now. You don’t want to.”

  “Yes.” Her voice is so breathy. I feel it in my spine—soft and feathery, making me ache to touch her.

  She bunches pillows behind her head and lays back. Fuck, is she beautiful. From her glistening black hair to her tiny toes, she’s perfect. And the curves in between have me wishing I could kiss every inch of her.

  “Tell me what more I want,” she says.

  “You want me to touch your Caterina.”

  She smiles. “Call it something else now. She’s different when I’m turned on.”

  I lick my lips as she bends her knees. She’s not letting me see anything, her legs glued together, but I think she will. Knowing that, hoping for that, I have to swallow yet again, my body humming with too much energy, too much lust.

  “You want me to touch your pussy.”

  She arches her head back. “Yes.” Slowly, she parts her legs. Only a little. At the same time her hand is sliding along her belly, tunneling through her dark, glossy pubic hair to her sex. She feathers a light stroke against her clit, making her moan.

  “I circle that little nub.”

  She moans again.

  “Sometimes, I rub right against it.”

  She does as I say and her legs twitch.

  “I circle and rub then explore your pussy. I touch your soft hair. Your folds. And I always go back to touching your clit.”

  Her legs open more, letting me watch as she follows my words. She’s so wet, glistening. Her legs are shaking by the time she touches that little pink button of hers.

  “Then I kiss my way down your body. I’d kiss every inch of you while I’m circling your clit.”

  Her breath is quickening, and her legs open wider.

  “Finally, I’d kiss your pussy, right where my fingers had been.”

  Her hips buck.

  “I’d lick you, Asha. God, would I lick you. I’d find you all over again with my mouth. I’d savor your taste. I’d get so fucking turned on as you thrust against my face.”

  She’s moaning, her hips rocking.

  “Then I’d slowly explore your opening. With my tongue.”

  She doesn’t move away from her clit, as she asks, while huffing for air, “You would?”

  “Yeah, baby.” I’m hoping
she’ll do as I advised, but she’s not moving from her clit.

  She shakes her head slightly. “I—I’ve never—I’ve never touched myself there.” Her voice is altered, like she’s unsure, like I’m turning her off.

  I really don’t want that.

  “I would only skim my tongue across you.”

  “Oh.” Her voice is breathy again and she’s lifting her head, watching me. But then she runs a finger over the outside of her channel. She doesn’t press in, she’s just exploring. And moaning. Like she didn’t know touching herself there could feel that good. She probably didn’t.

  She’s feeling her inner lips, moaning even more. When she goes back to sliding right over her opening, her hips buck.

  “Would you—would you push a finger inside me?”

  “Only if you wanted me to.”

  She’s writhing now. One hand on her clit, the other exploring the soft rosy flesh of her sex. But she lifts her head again, looking at me. “I’m scared it’ll hurt.”

  I shake my head. “It doesn’t have to. I just have to be slow. Careful.” As a doctor she knows, I’m sure, many of the myths about female virgins. Well, I remember finding out about several during my rotation through gynecology. Like the fact that virgins don’t have to bleed their first time. That often why they bleed is because the guy isn’t ensuring the woman is properly turned on. And many women have some of their hymens until the day they die. Also, sex for the first time doesn’t have to hurt. At all.

  “Slow,” she whispers. “Careful.” She leans her head back on the pillow and slowly rubs up and down her opening. She’s not touching too hard, but it’s making her rock her hips. The moans she’s emitting are driving me crazy, making me crave to be between her legs and show her how soft my tongue could be.

  Gingerly, she presses the very tip of her finger inside. Her moan is really loud now.

  “It’s good. So good.”

  “Fuck, yeah. It’s good. You’re so beautiful, Asha. So fucking beautiful.”

  “Mmm.”

  “Are you close?”

  “Yes. Oh god, yes.” She pushes her finger a little more inside, circling her clit and making my cock throb every time she rocks her hips.

  My hips want to mimic hers, meeting her, thrust for thrust, imagining myself inside her as I watch her finger dip a little more, a little more.

  “Oh, Ryder.”

  “Baby. I want you to come. I want you to come so fucking bad.”

  “Ryder.”

  “Say my name, baby. Say my first name.”

  Her hips jerk up. “Ian,” she says on a long breath.

  She’s coming. I’m watching her. Her sex is pulsing, her hips are moving, there’s a beautiful blush covering her chest and cheeks.

  “Oh, Ian.”

  “Yeah, baby. That was good.”

  “It was so good.” She slowly extracts her finger from her pussy. It’s glistening and I have to have it.

  “Asha.” I step a little closer. “Can I taste you?”

  Her eyes spring open. They’re so wide, and I see something that breaks me. There’s fear. A lot of it too.

  “I mean, taste your finger, baby.” I try to soften my voice, hoping to erase the panic I see flash through her dark gaze.

  Granted, Asha’s a virgin and she could be fearful of intimacy. But more than likely, and this kills me, someone made her fearful of being physical. If I ever find out for certain if it was someone, I’ll fucking gut him. Skin him alive. Then cut off his dick.

  Or at least imagine I’d do that.

  Fuck, I hate hearing about violence against women. I hate seeing it. My heart bleeds for the women who come in and need rape kits. I think about posses and vigilante law, because our own judicial system is disgracefully not enough. Three months of jail time for a convicted rapist? A year for a child molester? That should make everyone ashamed.

  I can’t let Asha know about my suspicions. She’s a proud woman. Getting her to tell me she’s a virgin—it might have been easier extracting her teeth than that admission.

  I smooth a smile on my face, hoping I still look like I’m turned on, still with her.

  She smiles at me. It’s slow and languid and so fucking sexy. Her orgasm grin really does turn me on.

  Right now, I know she needs me not to react to my hunch. I don’t know how I know this. I guess, it’s just human decency, but, yeah, I’m going to pretend. And it’s not that hard to pretend because I’m charged with lust from the way she’s smiling at me, her orgasm making her relaxed and even more gorgeous.

  Slowly, she lifts her hand. After stepping closer, I take it, making sure she’s looking at me. Separating her middle finger from the rest, I suck it in. My cock twitches the instant I smell her, taste her. She’s sweet. So fucking sweet.

  I moan. “Like honey.”

  She slowly bites her lip. “Really?”

  “You taste so fucking good, baby.”

  “I love it when you call me baby.”

  “I love calling you baby.” I take her finger in my mouth again, because I was about to tell her that she’s the only one I’ve ever called baby. No other woman was ever called anything by me, other than her name. I never liked endearments, not for what I was doing, which was fucking.

  She takes her hand back, propping herself on another pillow, laying on her side, her perfect silhouette outlined by the late-morning sun.

  “It’s my turn now. I get to watch.”

  I chuckle. “I’m sorry to say it might not be much of a show. I’m so fucking turned on, Asha.”

  “You are?”

  She keeps asking me these kinds of questions—if she really tastes good, if I’m really turned on. For the next few days, I’m going to prove to her she never has to ask those kinds of questions again, because this woman—this woman makes me feel more than I ever have before, makes me so turned on I think I might come, and I haven’t even touched my dick. In general, she drives me crazy just because she’s her and she’s here.

  Fuck, I’m going to win her over if it’s the last thing I do.

  “Let me see how turned on you are.”

  I grin and whip off my towel, letting her take me in.

  Now that I know—rather, think I know—that Asha might be a sexual assault victim, I want to make everything just right. For this reason, I’m cringing that I tore off my towel so fast. Luckily, she’s eating me up, licking her lips, her eyes as dazzling as the stars in a velvet-black sky.

  “You are…you are…” She shakes her head. “Can I call you beautiful? I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  I never thought I’d like it being called something like that. But from her, the fact that she’s seen all my scars, she’s seen my tats—the ones I’m proud of and the corny ones too, and she thinks of me like that, yeah, I like being called beautiful. But I can only nod at her.

  She adjusts a little and sits on her shins, her naked body amazing me. “Show me how you touch yourself.”

  My hands are at my sides, and I realize I’m shaking a little. I’m going to jerk off in front of her. And maybe I should feel dirty about it, but I don’t. This is what she wants. She likes looking at me. She likes it when I call her baby. All of these things make it so I’m way more turned on than I’d like to be. And happier too.

  I slide a hand along my thigh and go right for my cock. It’s me touching myself. So I don’t dick around, pun intended. Wrapping my hand around my base, I watch her watching me. She looks amazed. Her mouth is parted and, fuck, if that doesn’t ratchet up this already intense feeling.

  I stroke myself a few times, testing the waters for how sensitive I am. With my other hand I cup my balls, pulling the sack, groaning.

  “Does that feel good?”

  “So good,” I grunt.

  “Ryder?”

  “Yeah, baby.”

  “Will you imagine me doing what you are, like you did for me? Only, will you keep telling me what I would do to you?”


  I suck in a breath. “Yeah, baby.” I groan again as she’s pushing her hands down her slender thighs. “God, you’re so sexy.”

  She smiles. “What am I doing to you?”

  “You’re taking my cock, stroking me just the way I like it.”

  “How do you like it?”

  “At first, a little rough, but I’m too worked up to do that. I’d come and embarrass myself by orgasming less than fifteen seconds after you touched me, and I’m going to prove to you that my stamina is at least thirty seconds.”

  She giggles. It’s a sexy giggle that bounces through my body, landing in my heart, making me feel good everywhere. “I love this, Ryder…Ian.”

  I throw my head back as I keep slowly stroking myself. “I love it when you say my name. All of my name. What’s your full name, baby?”

  “Asha—by the way Asha means hope—”

  I smile, glancing back at her again. “That’s so pretty.”

  “Thank you. Asha Isabell Whitetail. What’s your middle name, Ian?”

  “Ian Charles Ryder.”

  “Charles, wow.”

  I roll my eyes. “I’m not so turned on now.”

  She laughs.

  “I like Charlie better.”

  After she tilts her head, I’m guessing to think about Charlie, she watches me stroking myself. Contrary to what I just said, lust is coursing through me like a juggernaut. There’s no stopping it. My testicles are tightening.

  “I like Charlie too.” She licks her lips. “What am I going to do to make you come, Ryder?”

  I grunt. “You—you’ll take your hand and wrap it around my head, like this.” I show her. “Then you’ll move your hand this way.” I circle around my hot swollen flesh, which makes the sensations in my body heighten all the more. I moan. My hips thrust of their own volition.

  “You—you have—” she points at my cock with her chin. “Pre-ejaculate from your penile meatus.”

  I glance down. A drop of precum glistens on my slit.

  God, I love that she says anatomical terms in bed. Somehow, she makes even that such a fucking turn on.

  “Can I—” She seriously bites her lip as she looks up at me, a pink glow spreading across her cheeks. “Can I taste that?”

  I shudder. “Jesus, you’re going to make me come.”

 

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