Reception (The Kane Series Book 5)

by Stylo Fantome

  “I take it all back,” she laughed. “No matter what happens tonight, you will do perfectly fine in the sex department.”

  He actually laughed. A loud, warm sound, coming from his chest. A rarity, for sure. Then he sighed and dropped his forehead to hers as she started stroking her hand up and down.

  “I ...” he tried to speak again, but still couldn't finish. She licked her lips and moved her hand faster. Arched her back and pressed her breasts to his chest.

  “Do you like this?” she breathed.

  “Yes,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

  “What else?” she insisted, writhing slowly underneath him. Seeking some friction for herself. “Tell me what else you want.”

  “I want … I want to touch you.”

  “God, yes, please touch me.”

  He was kissing her again. He was a surprisingly aggressive kisser, lots of tongue and crushing lips. Just like she liked. One of his hands pressed down heavily over her breast and she gasped, then moaned as the hand moved over her stomach.

  “Move.”

  The command startled her and before she realized what was happening, he was pulling away. Breaking her hold on him. As her arm fell away from him, his own hands were squeezing her ribs. He roughly moved her, shifting her around on the bed. As he pushed her back into the pillows, she strained towards him, kissing him even as he continued moving over her. She had her hands on either side of his face, holding him close while he laid down on top of her.

  “I want to explore you,” he whispered against her lips, and just the idea of it sent a shiver over her entire body.

  “I would like that,” she whispered back.

  “I've never been with a woman,” he said, kissing his way down her neck.

  “I know,” she sighed, raking her fingers though her hair as his lips wandered down her cleavage.

  “I may not be very good at any of this.”

  “So far, so really fucking good, Sanders.”

  “You would not lie to me about this.”

  “No. No, I promise,” she panted, finally looking down at him. His brown hair was mussy and dishelved, tickling her as he kissed along the edge of her ribs. His hands were pressing down hard on the tops of her hips – everything he'd done had been heavy, she realized. Like he was trying to push her through the mattress. It was such a different sensation. She was used to his touches being light. Gentle hugs and delicate pats.

  He's trying to feel me, all the way through.

  Then those same hands were pulling down the zipper in the center of her shorts and she suddenly caught on to what exactly it was he wanted to explore.

  Oh, what a good man. He will do so well in life.

  “Remember,” he breathed against her skin while he peeled the shorts away from her body. She lifted her legs as he pulled the material free from her. “You promised to be honest about my abilities.”

  “When have I ever – oh my fucking god.”

  Her eyes rolled back in her head when she felt his lips against the center of her panties. He hadn't bothered taking them off, just moved his tongue through the lace, doubling the friction. She gasped and threw her head back, her shoulders lifting off the mattress.

  “Is that a good exclamation, or a bad one?” he paused to ask.

  “A very fucking good one,” she panted, waving her hand at him impatiently. “Don't stop.”

  Her assumption must have been right – he had to have been practicing in his head. Or possibly on fruit. He went down on her like it was something he did for a living. Her hands flew above her head, scratching down the headboard, and she even surprised herself when she cried out his name.

  “Oh my god, Sanders, where has this side of you been hiding!? God, right there,” she was having trouble catching her breath. “Please, please, please, it's so good, right there ...”

  She'd forgotten her own name and what was going on and even who she was doing it with – all she knew was that she was on the verge of coming and it was all that mattered. She was trembling and shaking, one hand clawing through his hair, when he took it all away.

  She choked when he pulled back. She felt his tongue sweeping a straight line up the center of her stomach, then he was hovering over her. She opened her eyes just as he kissed her again, his lips warm and damp as they slid across hers.

  “You're a bad, bad, man,” she chuckled, then bit down on his bottom lip.

  “Why?”

  “Because you're a liar.”

  “Pardon me, but I never lie.”

  “Liar – you know exactly what you're doing to me.”

  “That is a lie. I am guessing at every step. But thank you for the compliment.”

  “You're very welcome. Now stop talking and fuck me.”

  She hadn't meant to be vulgar with him, but it was just in her nature, and she was so turned on. She really hadn't expected it. She had imagined something sweet and sort of innocent. A bumbling virgin, fumbling around under the sheets with her. But so far, there wasn't much bumbling from him, at all. It seemed as though he really was exceptionally capable in everything he attempted. Her on-switch had been flipped and once that happened, there was very little that could be done to slow her down, and almost nothing that could stop her mouth.

  Luckily, he didn't seem to notice her language, or just didn't mind. They both moved onto their knees, hands everywhere as they tried to get closer. One of his hands was fighting with the clasp in her bra while his other hand was inside the back of her underwear, pushing at the material and gently squeezing her ass.

  She laughed when he let out a frustrated snort at her bra – there it finally was, a hint-o-bumbling – and she reached back and undid it herself. While she tossed it to the floor, he pushed her panties down her thighs at the same time as he kissed across her breasts. They both fell to the side, a tangle of arms and legs.

  “This is the part I'm most nervous about,” he finally said while her feet pushed and shoved at his pants, forcing them awkwardly down his legs.

  “Don't be nervous,” she said. “Tab A fits into Slot B almost every single time.”

  “That is the easy part. It is the rest that I'm not sure about.”

  “No one ever is, not until they've slept together a couple times. We'll figure it out together.”

  He kicked his pants free of his legs and she wanted to look at him. Wanted to push him away so she could appraise him. But when he laid down on top of her, she remembered who this was about, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

  “I wanted ...” he started to ask, then stopped himself. She stared up at him and combed her fingers through his hair.

  “What? What do you want?” she asked. He wasn't look at her, she realized. He was staring just over her shoulder, at the sheets.

  “It feels awkward to be asking questions,” he explained. “I feel like there shouldn't be so much talking.”

  “Are you serious? I never shut up in bed,” she laughed. “There's no rules, except the ones we make together. If I don't like something you're doing, I'll tell you, and vice versa, okay? So don't worry about it. Anything goes.”

  “But I like rules,” he said simply. She groaned.

  “Sanders, just let go. You don't have to be in control right now. What is it, are you embarrassed? Is it something kinky?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. He didn't say anything. “Do you want us to play a guessing game? Okay, what is it … do you want me to blow you?”

  “No,” he replied, then paused. “At least, not right now.”

  She smiled big.

  “Ooohhh, we'll save that for later. Something else – want me to get on my hands and knees? Want to spank me? I'm a very open minded person, as I would think you'd know by now,” she teased, but it still didn't seem to help. “Stop worrying, Sanders. I like it when you tell me what to do. I like it when you say what you want, when you say what you're going to do to me. It turns me on.”

  He finally looked directly at her.

  Jackpo
t.

  “I want you to be on top of me.”

  “Well, that's just asking too much,” she said in a dramatic voice, and they both laughed.

  She kissed him again, trying to bring back the sensual mood he'd created so well just moments before. She pressed her body against every inch of his, forcing them onto their sides. When she rolled him onto his back, he moved a hand into her hair, and she was pleasantly surprised to feel him pulling. Not hard, but enough that she felt the tug.

  Now we're getting somewhere.

  “Can I tell you things?” he whispered as she put her knees on either side of his hips, forcing her ass into the air.

  “Tell me anything,” she breathed, keeping her chest flush with his while she kissed the side of his face and his ear.

  “I like the way you smell,” he sighed. She smiled against his skin.

  “I never knew.”

  “And the way you feel. You're very soft.”

  “Thank you.”

  She propped herself up over him and stared down at him for a second, then she kissed him gently.

  “No going back, Sanders,” she whispered, running her hand down his body and between her legs. “I'm not going to force you, but I want to do this. I want you to do it with me.”

  “I want this,” he agreed, his fingers spearing into her hair and holding it away from her face. “As of right now, you are truly the only person I feel comfortable enough with to engage in this kind of activity.”

  “But it will only be now,” she warned him. “Only while we're here. Is that okay?”

  He nodded.

  “I wouldn't want anything ese,” he promised. “Nor would I ask for it.”

  She had one hand on his chest, holding her up, and her other hand was wrapped around him. Holding him. Guiding him. She had kind of hoped he would look at her when it happened. She wanted him to remember this moment. But his eyes were closed, his head tilted back, his lips parted. She couldn't wait any longer, so she slowly slid down his erection.

  “Ooohhh, wow,” she breathed, finally taking him to the hilt.

  “This ...” he sighed. “Thank you.”

  She laughed softly.

  “Congrats. You're not a virgin anymore,” she informed him, smoothing her hand down the side of his face. He didn't open his eyes, but he chuckled and moved his hands to her hips.

  “Perhaps I am wrong, but I think I'm a virgin until I actually orgasm,” he informed her. She snickered.

  “Oh, well then, better get to work.”

  “No rush.”

  She laughed again, but it was cut short when he moved his hips under her. She gasped when she felt his hands squeezing her, urging her to move. She obliged, rocking against him, sliding up and down his hard length.

  He was quiet, which for a person with Tate's fetishes somewhat unnerved her, but he was big enough that it really didn't matter too much. He also had rhythm – she remembered he'd taken dancing lessons and wondered if they were coming in handy now. For it being his first time, she was very impressed. So he wasn't a talker; most people weren't, she had to remember. This was about him finding out what he liked, not about knowing what she already liked.

  However, she was a little surprised when he finally did speak.

  “Faster,” he urged. She chuckled and started riding him harder.

  Then she was really surprised when she felt his hand on her chest. He was pushing at her, forcing her to sit upright. She was happy to do so, moaning when she felt him even deeper than before. Her hands went into her hair, lifting the long tresses off her neck and shoulders.

  His hands, once he'd started moving them, didn't stop wandering. They slid around to her back, pressing down hard to enough to feel like a massage. She groaned when they finally came back to her breasts, cupping them and lifting them. She knew it was all supposed to be about him and letting him lead the way and whatnot, but she couldn't help herself. She dropped her hands to his, squeezing them over her breasts, then she dragged his right hand up to her face. She wrapped her lips around the base of his index finger, then slowly pulled it free, sucking as she went.

  “Oh my god,” he groaned, and it was probably the most uncontrolled she'd ever heard him sound the entire time they'd known each other.

  Who knew that would be so hot?

  She couldn't handle it. Sanders could be as quiet as he wanted, but she simply couldn't.

  “Oh, god,” she gasped for air as she rocked on top of him. “I'm going to … I can't … I'm going to come.”

  “Is too soon bad?” he asked through gritted teeth. She laughed, then let out a sharp cry as a tremor ripped through her body.

  “Coming is never ever ever a bad thing,” she replied, pressing both her hands against his chest. He finally opened his eyes and looked at her.

  “I don't want this to end yet,” he breathed. She shook her head.

  “It's not ending any time soon,” she promised, starting to shake all over.

  But he was full of surprises. She let out a shriek when he abruptly rolled them over, his arms wrapping around her and holding her tight. When they finally came to a stop, he was on top of her and she was impaled on him. She couldn't remember how to breathe.

  “Is it always like this?” he asked, not moving. It took her a few seconds to be able to answer.

  “No ...” she squeaked out, scratching her nails down his chest, silently begging him to move and alternately praying that he'd stay just where he was. “No. Sometimes … it's not good. Not fun. But this … this ...”

  “This is so good,” he groaned, pulling out so slowly she thought she was going to go insane.

  “Fuck, yes. Yes, it fucking is,” she agreed quickly.

  “You said I could do anything, correct?”

  “Yes. Anything. Whatever you want. Please.”

  “I think I like it when you do that.”

  “God, what? I'll do anything. What did I do?”

  “Beg.”

  Kinky little fucker.

  “Please, Sanders,” she breathed his name as she started moving around. She had some practice with begging – maybe she and Sanders had similar tastes, after all. “Please, please, please. Do whatever you want to me. Do anything you want. I want you to. God, so much. Please. Don't stop.”

  He slammed into her and she screamed. She was worried for a second it would scare him, but he didn't even pause. She dragged her nails down his back and babbled incoherently while he fucked her. She made somewhat of an attempt to continue begging, but she was pretty sure most of it was nonsense.

  How could she possibly think when he was everywhere? His hands were all over her, constantly moving and pushing and squeezing. Exploring, just like he'd said, yet it didn't slow him down at all. He kept pushing and thrusting and pounding away at her. God, so much. She felt like she was going to explode and she started coiling herself around him, lifting her legs and squeezing her thighs against him.

  “You were right,” he panted, running a hand down her thigh and then cupping her asscheek. “You are very, very good at this.”

  “I have a good partner,” she replied. Her nerves were being wound so tight, her teeth actually started to chatter. He dug his fingers into her flesh and dragged his hand back up her thigh.

  “Tatum,” he said. It was the first time he'd said her name since he'd been inside her, and it almost undid her right then. She bit down on her lips and tried to concentrate on his voice. “This has been very amazing, but I need to know one more thing.”

  “Anything, anything, anything,” she chanted in time to his thrusts.

  “I'm going to come,” he breathed. “Please ...” He didn't finish the sentence.

  “Please, yes, I want you to. Anywhere you want,” she urged, turning to look at him. She was surprised to see him staring right back at her. His forehead dropped down to hers again.

  “I want you to come, too,” he said.

  “Don't worry,” she whined, her voice high pitched and thready. “I'm goin
g to.”

  “Please, for me. Just this one time. I want to know I could make someone do that, at least once.”

  “Oh god,” she cried out, squeezing her eyes shut tight, trying to stave off the orgasm until he was finished. She felt his fingers against her face, tracing over her lips.

  “Don't, don't, don't,” he whispered. “Don't hold back from me. Don't ever do that.”

  Funny how she could stand harsh words and stinging hands so well, yet a dear friend speaking so softly and sweetly could just shred her.

  She screamed when she came, her entire back arching off the bed. His index finger pressed down hard against her bottom lip, setting off the nerve endings there, then dipped into her mouth. Stroked over her tongue. She moaned and cried, gently biting down on him. She heard him give a loud groan and he started thrusting even harder. The headboard banged against the wall in time, making a loud, sharp, smacking sound that seemed to reverberate through the room.

  “Oh my god,” she sobbed when he finally pulled his hand away. “Holy fuck. I can't stop … god, please, Sanders …”

  If she'd been in her right mind, she would've been worried about leaving scars on his back, but her right mind was a million miles away. No, her current state of mind was set to “well fucked” and she paid no attention to the deep scratches her fingernails were leaving behind on him.

  He didn't seem to mind, though. One of his hands was clenched around her breast and the other moved to grip the top of the wiggling headboard. He used the leverage to pound harder still and she really did go cross eyed.

  She was of no use to him, locked in her orgasm. She could only moan and shriek and say his name. Over and over again. Finally, he let out his own shout. He let go of her breast and when she opened her eyes, she saw that both his hands had the headboard in what looked to be a white-knuckle-grip. His erection throbbed and grew inside her, and then she could feel him coming. Felt him pulsing and twitching.

  Her orgasm had just started subsiding when he collapsed on top of her. His face was next to hers, buried in the pillows, and their chests fought against each other as they both tried to catch their breath.

  “Well then,” she panted, sliding one hand gently up his sweat slicked back. “Now you are officially not a virgin anymore.”