Disobeying Him

by M. K. Hale

  I turned the light off in her room and strode back over to where she laid down. Closing my eyes, my hands felt around for her dress. Instead, my right palm connected with her breast and a hard nipple poking through. Fuck, was she not wearing a bra? Right, I had taken it off of her earlier in the day.

  She had been braless the whole night? I bit back my groan as my pants became tighter, my cock twitching to life. No, this was not the time for that. She was drunk and half asleep. So was I.

  I moved on and grabbed the material of the dress, sliding it off her and thanking God it was sleeveless to make the act easier. I threw her wet outfit into her hamper of dirty clothes and stood there, not sure of what to do next. She stretched out on her bed, lying seductively in a pair of see-through red lace panties with her hair still damp and drying in soft, wavy curls. She was a Goddess.

  No, Nate. No ogling.

  I closed my eyes again, which added to my confusion about what to do next.

  “You could at least pretend to like what you see,” she mumbled in a harsh tone. Hurt.

  Like what I see? I almost laughed. I fucking loved what I saw. Too much. Her nipples pointed up as if saluting me and those long, sexy legs of hers were spread across the mattress like an open invitation. A sheen slickened her skin from the moisture of her dress, adding to her irresistibleness. She was hypnotic. I would have done anything she asked while she looked at me like that.

  “Come here,” she whispered from her bed, and my legs moved of their own volition.

  Still, her stunt at the fountain bothered me. I had made it clear how dangerous it was, and she just ran for it like a lunatic searching for a way to get killed. When she jumped and did not resurface within a minute, I had never been so scared in my life.

  The idea of being without Allie…. How had someone become so important to me in such a short amount of time? We were constantly together, how did we not get bored of each other? The feeling I had when I saw her smile, when I touched her skin, when I kissed her…. Was this love?

  “Hold me,” she said as I stood in front of her.

  Every molecule in my body softened when she turned on the bed to make room for me. She calmed me like no one else. My brain always worked in overdrive, over-analyzing everything, and stressing about every consequence of every action. That part of me shut down when I was around Allie. Everything felt simple. Well, simpler.

  I laid down next to her and held her close in my arms. Her skin was still chilled from walking home in cold, wet clothes, and I moved my hands over her to warm her.

  “That’s nice,” she said as she drifted asleep.

  It was nice.

  Waking up the next morning was one of the most painful moments of my life for many different reasons. First, the hangover I had qualified as severe. An evil beam of sunlight streamed through her window and sucker-punched me right in the face. It felt like I had been hit in my cerebellum, my skull cracked open in the process. Now I remembered why I never got drunk; the migraines were literal Hell.

  Second, I woke up with the most painful, raging hard-on I had experienced since high school. The kind a cold shower would not defeat. Opening my eyes, I took in Allie’s presence as she lay stretched out on top of me. No wonder I had an erection.

  She moaned in her sleep as she rubbed up against me, her wetness pressing against my thigh, so close to my aching cock.

  She sighed, dreamily. “Nate.”

  I forgave her for her torture. Damn, I loved it when she said my name in her dreams. I loved it in real life too, but something about knowing her subconscious liked me—as much as her conscious self did—made me even happier. She was adorable when she slept. Well, adorable until she had a vivid sex dream. Sleep was impossible for me without touching her and waking her from one of those.

  Her hair lay in huge, crazy curls over my chest. Since it had been damp and dried while she slept, the auburn strands were messy and tangled into big poofs. She looked wild, which was what she was.

  Her eyelids opened, revealing the mystical green I got lost in. “Nate?”

  I attempted smoothing out her hair but held in a chuckle at the way it bounced back with a vengeance. “Good morning.”

  “Last night was fun,” she said.

  Not what I expected. I wanted her to regret jumping into the fountain. I worried “doing something crazy” meant endangering herself. She needed to acknowledge the danger she put herself in. If she had been alone and I did not jump in after her, she could have died. She needed to take more responsibility for herself.

  Though I loved being around her, I hated how sometimes I acted more like a parent than a boyfriend. For instance, I believed she spent too much time going out and doing things or hanging out with people when she should have been studying and doing homework. I had not told her this, and it worked out that now we studied together twice every week, fixing the problem.

  Still, the way she viewed life concerned me. Her wild side was a vital part of her personality, but almost drowning in a fountain should have been enough to make her have some regret or some reluctance to do it again.

  “It was fun until you almost died,” I remarked. Honesty was the best policy, and I needed to tell Allie how I felt. I needed her to be safer.

  She ran her finger over my chest. “I wouldn’t have died.”

  “You were stuck. Underwater. That’s how drowning works.”

  “Yeah, if you want to be literal about it.”

  “Allie.”

  “I could have just slipped out of my dress.” She leaned in and kissed my cheek. “After all, you know how fond I am of skinny dipping.”

  “This isn’t a joke.” I hated how she flinched from the sternness of my voice. “Allie… I’m worried about the way you handle things.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” She rose on her elbows and inched away from me, hurt. Great.

  “Before you jumped, you said something about how ‘this is living,’ doing dangerous things—”

  “Living is about being daring,” she corrected me, her defenses coming up.

  “It’s great to be daring as long as you’re not reckless.”

  “Reckless?” She snorted and shot up out of the bed. “At least I’m not boring.”

  I moved off the mattress and stood. Hurt panged inside my chest. “What?” She knew I hated being called boring. Sure, I enjoyed planning things and being organized. It was called being smart, not boring.

  “You think I have problems handling things? You’re scared of everything you can’t control, Nate, and you know what? That’s life.”

  She walked around the mattress so she could get closer to me. I did not miss the way her eyes dropped down to scan over my body before shooting back up to fight with me. I wore only my dark blue boxers, and she was still half-naked. Her breasts were bare under my hungry gaze, and it became harder and harder to focus on what she was saying. My erection came back at the worst time.

  “It’s full of unexplainable and unavoidable situations,” she said. “You can’t plan out everything.”

  I tried to gather my thoughts—thoughts not involving throwing her back on the bed and devouring her. Fuck, did she have to stand in nothing like that? With only see-through red panties on her, I could see pretty much everything I had been dreaming about seeing for months. And damn, I was not disappointed. She was stunning. Her pert breasts and strong thighs had me pausing for a minute to remember our conversation.

  “Life also isn’t about doing crazy things just to feel something,” I shot back, but my voice lost its confidence as she walked even closer to me. Her bare skin was mere centimeters from mine. Her nipples poked against my chest. Focus. “It isn’t about finding new ways to run away from your problems.”

  “You want to know what life is about?” Her eyes held a challenge as she placed her hot palms on the muscles of my chest and clutched them, digging her nails into me. “It’s about finding what you want.”

  She trailed her hands down, getting clos
er and closer to the waistband of my boxers. I attempted to ignore the straining of my erection, but the heated look in her eyes had me questioning what was happening. We had just been in the middle of a fight. What was she doing?

  “And fucking—” she whispered hoarsely and slid a hand inside my boxers. Her fingers wrapped around my cock and squeezed, making me go cross-eyed. “—taking it.” She finished and all I could think of taking was her.

  Her lips met mine in a rush as she battled me for control over the primal kiss. Her hand was still on my cock, stroking up and down, successful in making me lose my mind. When her thumb circled the sensitive head, I bucked into her fingers and grabbed her. After I lifted her, she took the lead again by wrapping her enticing legs around my waist. She replaced the stroking of her hand with the rocking of her hips.

  There was no more fighting. Only madness.

  The kiss was so intense; I was afraid our lips would bruise from it. We moaned into each other’s mouths as she picked up the pace of her grinding on me. I pushed her body up against the wall so I no longer needed to support all of her weight. My hands wanted to explore. Her bare chest rubbed against mine, and I took my time dragging my fingers over her luscious thighs.

  “I love these legs,” I told her and resumed the kiss. Everything felt raw. New. Insane and irresistible.

  “They love you too.”

  “I love the way they part for me and squeeze around me.” I groped the back of her thigh. “They tell me exactly what you want.”

  When we fell back on the bed, my body was in overload. I put some space between us in hopes I might calm myself down and not end things before they had even started, but she clung to me.

  “Don’t you dare stop this time,” Allie growled, and the aroused, animalistic sound of it turned me on even more. “I need you.” She pushed her hips up against me, rocking them, and I groaned, my cock throbbing with need.

  “I won’t stop.” I kissed down her neck to the swells of her breasts. My tongue flicked out before I sucked one of her nipples. My thumb played with the other one, giving attention to where attention was due. Overdue.

  One of her hands captured mine and pulled it down to between her legs, where she burned for me. She shuddered as my fingers trailed over her lips and dove to circle her swollen little clit.

  “Is this what you needed, Kitten?” I whispered to her.

  “No. I need you,” she shot back, squeezing my erection. She grabbed onto my boxers, yanking them down before I could stop her. My shaft pulsed and twitched at the freedom. “Let’s go,” she demanded, gesturing for me to enter her.

  “What’s the rush?” I continued with my strokes over her bud and moved my fingers to slide into her at the same time. She spasmed around the intrusion and moaned into my ear. God, she was wet. Soaking my hand. “I like playing with you.” I curled my fingers inside her, and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. “I think you like it when I play with you too.” She always made me lose control, so seeing her so lost made me feel like an erotic sex God.

  “You know I h-hate teasing. N-Now stop it,” she gasped, unable to finish her sentence when my thumb accelerated its circles on her.

  “What’s that saying?” I continued to tease her. “Enjoy the journey, not the destination?”

  Her glare faded into an expression of ecstasy. Her brows unfurrowed, and her limbs splayed out on the mattress. “Th-That’s a stupid saying.”

  I licked up her neck and planted a kiss right below her ear. “I think you’re liking this.”

  “You know what I’d like more?” she asked, and before I knew it, my back met the mattress, her on top of me. She straddled my waist, rocking down on my bulge. “Mm, nothing left to say?” Words struggled to form in my mind with her grinding against me like that. Her wetness slammed over me, rubbing. “God, I want you so much,” she moaned out, her hips speeding up.

  So. Close. And I wasn’t even inside her yet.

  This time needed to be slow. I needed to show her how I felt about her. I would never let her go after this. Any fight or disagreement in the future would mean nothing after this.

  Fuck, I…I loved her.

  “Allie.” It sounded more like a prayer than a name. My large hands gripped her waist, and my thumb moved over the small heart tattoo she had there. A red border created the shape, and inside it was the word mine. “What does this mean?”

  I had wanted to ask her about her tattoos for a while, and now I was using the subject to distract both of us. If we went on like this any longer, I would snap. She rolled a condom onto me, and I almost surrendered at the pressure of it.

  No, hold on for her. But I was only so strong. I had not had sex in months, and she was about to make me explode.

  “I’ll tell you what my tattoos mean later. This is not the time.” She guided my sheathed cock to her entrance, pushing down onto me. My shaft slid into her heat and all air escaped me. She felt like liquid heaven. Wet, hot, and so fucking tight. Nothing had ever been so good. Damn it, don’t come. Don’t. Come. Not yet.

  “Tell me.” I needed the distraction. “The heart that says ‘mine.’ Why?”

  “It means my body is mine, and my love is mine, and—” We both moaned at the way her hips slammed down on me as I went deeper than before. “A-And that they’re mine to give.”

  My hot grip tightened on her waist, stopping her from moving above me. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to ignore the way my balls tightened and my limbs tingled at the sensual sensation of being inside her. She was magical to me. All-consuming.

  I rolled us over on the bed, so I was once again above her. My hips pumped at a slow pace, absorbing every second into my skin. She threw her head back on the pillow and called out my name again.

  “And will you give me them?” I questioned, sweat dripping down my chest as I held back from pounding into her with all my might.

  She looked at me like I was crazy. I suppose I was crazy for talking during such a pivotal moment. “What?”

  “Your body.” I moaned as her inner muscles fluttered around me, clenching. “Will you give it to me?”

  “I-I kind of already am.”

  “And y-your…fuck—” I cut off again with a groan. My thrusts became all the more primal, losing rhythm as the sensations rose. “Your love, will you give it to me?”

  Her eyes glazed over, and her jaw hung open as my pounding grew hurried. Did she even hear me?

  “Allie?”

  “Yes,” she yelped. “Yes, yes.”

  It was the point of no return. My rapid slams into her sped up until my thrusts were faster than my racing heartbeat. White-hot heat slithered down my spine, shooting to my groin. My hips grew frantic.

  Hard thrusts.

  Panting.

  Her pussy gripping me in spasms.

  “You’re squeezing me so fucking tight, Parser,” I told her, breathless. “I can feel you rippling around me. So close. You want to come for me?”

  “Please,” she cried, clutching my back and digging her nails into the skin.

  I dipped a hand between us to play with her clit. I needed her to come already because, by the tingling sensation in my balls, I did not have much longer to hold back. “Then do it. Be a good girl and come. Come. Come now.”

  She screamed and threw her head back as she convulsed around me. I grunted my pleasure before we both collapsed onto the bed, exhausted.

  My mind was hazy post bliss, but I remembered telling her I loved her.

  Chapter 28

  Allie:

  * * *

  Nate had said he loved me. He acted like he did not remember saying it, and maybe he hadn’t meant to, but those words had traveled out of his lips, through my ears, and burned themselves into my brain. He loved me? My experience with love was friendships, cold parents, and an abusive long-term boyfriend.

  Yes, I loved being around him and I was often concerned for him, but was this feeling love? Could I love someone whom I held a secret from?


  The final paper for my psychology class would be due soon, and I was almost done writing it about Nate. He had shared everything about his life, and the guilt I now felt for analyzing him was crippling. I wrote about him like he was an experiment instead of a person. Wasn’t that why I wanted to be a psychologist? Because I wanted to help people as people and not as labels. Was I losing myself and my reason for studying psychology by writing the paper on someone I cared about?

  He would think of me as a monster for the things I wrote. Stating how an abusive relationship with his father severely affected his ability to adjust to change as an adult. Stating he suffered from overthinking and over planning everything, a common trait of mild obsessive-compulsive disorder.

  I hated keeping a secret from him, but he would hate me if he found out about the paper. Guilt and regret consumed me, but I was also proud of the paper I had written. Nate fascinated me, and the final product could be enough to help me pass the class with a somewhat good grade.

  My grade in my women’s history class was higher than I had expected it to be. There were two short weeks left of school, so final projects, final papers, and final exams were soaking up all of my personal time. Thankfully, Nate enjoyed studying with me. It was strange being around him and not talking to him or teasing him, but it was also nice to sit in comfortable silence. Sometimes he even held my hand and quizzed me.

  I was addicted to him. We still slept in the same bed every night. Touching him was a drug. Talking to him and making him laugh felt like winning the lottery. Maybe I did love him. It had been a week since he said it and everything had been going so great; I didn’t know if I should bring up the subject or just forget about it.

  “You look good,” Nate said in a low voice. His blazing eyes ate me up as I sat next to him in our History class. Three fresh pieces of lined paper and two pens sat in front of him on the desk. My little overachiever.

  “I’m wearing a puffy winter coat.” I laughed at him, and he smiled. Winter had come, and now my walks to classes were freezing. My wardrobe full of dresses transformed into thick, wool stockings and heavy coats.