HOT as F*CK

by Scott Hildreth

  “We need to have a talk first,” I said.

  “About?”

  The only thing that was left untouched was sex. I guess we saved the best for last.

  “The severity of sex,” I said.

  Her eyes shot wide. And then, they narrowed to slits.

  Chapter Two Hundred Sixty-Nine

  Taryn

  With his fingers still inside me fully, he paused. “Sex isn’t simply an act that two people take part in,” he explained. “At least it shouldn’t be. If properly executed, sex has the severity of an earthquake.”

  In anticipation of what was sure to come, I could feel my heart beating between my legs. He was mind-fucking me again. I needed to pay attention. I swallowed heavily, and then parted my dry lips.

  “That’s uhhm. That’s an interesting concept.”

  “It’s not a concept,” he said. “It’s fact. A person’s life becomes marked by severity. The severity of sex will certainly mark yours. Only sex can create life. That alone paints a clear picture of the severity of the act. If sex is executed without permission, the punishment for the crime can be death.”

  “Taryn.” He withdrew his fingers. “Do I have your permission?”

  There was only one response to give.

  So, I gave it.

  “Yes.”

  “Open your eyes,” he said.

  I did.

  I looked around the dimly lit room until my eyes adjusted.

  “The severity of an earthquake is determined by two things,” he said. “Magnitude and intensity. Magnitude measures the energy released at the source. Intensity measures the strength of shaking produced. The severity of sex is the same. The energy released should come from your source. From deep within your soul. The intensity is directly correlated to the magnitude of the energy expelled.”

  He seemed so sure of himself. It sounded awesome. Hell, at that point, a quickie would probably have left me breathless. I’d waited thirty days, and seeing him in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts was making me ache.

  “The severity of sex,” I said under my breath.

  He rolled to his side and looked me in the eyes. “If we do this, we’re committing to each other that we’re prepared to not only bring life into this earth, but that we’re willing to spend our lives together, regardless of the difficulties we face. The only thing I won’t accept is infidelity.”

  “Neither will I.”

  “Are you prepared to do this?”

  I grinned. “Were you hoping to scare me?”

  His mouth twisted into a smirk. “Just making sure you understood what you were agreeing to.”

  “Is this the part where we shake hands?”

  He sat up and extended his hand. “I guess so.”

  I shook it. “You’ve got a deal, mister.”

  With a tug of his arm, he pulled me into him. The fingers of his free hand raked through my hair, and came to a rest against the base of my skull. He gripped my neck firmly, using it to force my mouth hard against his.

  Our tongues danced together delicately, while our mouths merged in a more aggressive manner. I writhed about as pleasure and nervous anxiousness drove the involuntary movement of my muscles. Eventually, our tongues caught up with the tempo.

  My mind went void of any ability to reason, and my knees went weak.

  It was a kiss all kisses should be modeled after.

  I groped along his body, not knowing where to focus my attention. I found the tight muscles of his chest tempting, but that temptation didn’t prevent me from exploring every inch of him that I could reach.

  My heart faltered as my fingers fumbled over the ridges of his abdomen – each one of them hard, like a stone. The waistband of his boxer briefs caused me to pause, and then I realized we no longer had restrictions.

  I slid my hand into his shorts and gripped him firmly in my hand.

  Oh God.

  He moaned in pleasure as I stroked his stiff cock from its tip to the base. Knowing that I’d brought him to that state of arousal with nothing more than a kiss was extremely gratifying.

  Yet.

  I needed more. I yearned to feel my skin against his. To have every inch of him inside of me. To experience the scent of our sex filling my nostrils while I gazed into his mysterious eyes. I wanted to hear our bodies slapping against one another with such force that it reverberated throughout the home endlessly.

  There would be plenty of time in our future to make love.

  The time had come to fuck.

  With reluctance, I broke our embrace.

  Our eyes met. He reached for his boxer briefs, navigated them over his rigid shaft, and then pushed them along his thighs. As he fumbled to get them off his feet, I realized I was still dressed.

  It was the moment I’d been waiting for, and I was daydreaming instead of doing. Breathless, I hopped off the edge of the bed and reached for the hem of my dress. “I’ve waited…thirty days, I’ll probably…explode.”

  “Thirty days?” He coughed out a laugh. “Four years for me.”

  I tossed my dress onto the floor, and then rid myself of my bra and panties. While I considered asking him where he wanted me, he pulled me onto the bed by my wrist.

  Flat on my back, and with eyes wide open, I gazed up at him as he positioned himself over me.

  He guided himself between my legs while he met my gaze.

  The tip penetrated me, and all but brought me to tears. Not from the size or the force, but from the raw emotion that rushed through me. I never wanted anyone as completely as I wanted March Watson. Having him was beyond what my inexperienced heart could manage to comprehend.

  He slipped his arms beneath me and gripped my shoulders in his hands. I wedged my lower lip between my teeth and prepared myself for the inevitable. Cautiously, he pushed himself into me, one slow inch at a time.

  I held my breath, and it appeared he did the same.

  I knew very little at that moment, but one thing that became immediately clear was that we fit one another. Having his girth fill me was breathtaking, but manageable. He stretched me to what I was sure was my limit, however, it wasn’t overly painful. He was gentle, but not so cautious that it left me wanting something more.

  Having him inside of me was the solution to the Big O equation.

  Methodically, he continued. Although I believed I’d accepted his length fully, each stroke proved otherwise. I pressed my palms against my inner thighs and spread my legs as wide as I was able. Every thrust of his hips provided a little more of his thick shaft.

  Eventually, I felt his base against my clit.

  Dear God.

  “Is that all of it?” I gasped.

  He grinned. “That’s it.”

  “Holy crap.”

  “Holy crap is right. Your little pussy is heaven.”

  “You like it?”

  “Love it.” His eyebrows raised. “Are you okay?”

  A short breath shot from my lungs. “I’m good.”

  With our eyes locked, he began to slide in and out of my willing warmth. Each stroke brought with it a wave of emotion, sending a tingling sensation across every inch of my skin. Be it his size, his positioning, or simply who he was, I had no idea – but having him inside of me was different.

  So much so that I stared back at him, bewildered.

  He released my shoulders and cupped my boobs in his hands. He squeezed them firmly, paying special attention to my hardening nipples. His thumbs tickled each one masterfully, leaving me no alternative but to watch.

  I alternated glances between his hands, face, and watching his entire length disappear inside of me. Seeing his glistening shaft as he withdrew his hips was beyond satisfying, and I became fixed on it for an immeasurable amount of time.

  I tore my eyes away from his thick cock and met his gaze. “I like watching you fuck me.”

  “I’m not fucking you, yet.”

  “What…what are you…doing?”

  “This?” He chuckled. “This
is foreplay.”

  “Oh.” I felt like I could explode at any minute. If what he was doing was the predecessor to sex, I was in trouble.

  Deep trouble.

  “Let me know when you think you’re ready,” he said.

  I though he was fucking me. In fact, I was sure of it. After finding out he wasn’t, I wanted to know just what he was capable of. Being fucked senseless was on my list of things to do with him, and he’d almost accomplished it with what he described as foreplay.

  I’d likely draw my last breath if I agreed to let him have his way with me. At minimum, he’d screw me into a coma, leaving me incapable of anything but staring at the stark white walls of his home for all of eternity.

  I had always been one to take risks, though.

  “You don’t have the guts to fuck me,” I said snidely.

  His eyes shot wide. “Come again?”

  I clenched my jaw. “You heard me,” I said through my teeth.

  “Say it again. I want to make sure--”

  “You. Don’t. Have. The. Guts. To. Fuck. Me.”

  His face went flush and his eyes thinned to slits. Then, as he held my gaze, he withdrew himself from me slowly.

  He stepped off the edge of the bed and gestured toward me with his hand. “Get up.”

  I wondered exactly what I’d done, and if there was a means of recovering from it. He’d said we were in this through the thick and the thin, and I suspected I should remind him of that. While considering rolling off the edge of the bed and attempting to reason with him, he hoisted me to my feet.

  He stomped across the bedroom floor with me in tow. He didn’t seem angry, but he wasn’t laughing, either. I wanted to protest whatever he was doing, but before I had a chance to assemble my objection, he lowered me to my feet just inside the wall of glass.

  He flipped the switch, and parted the mechanical blinds that provided a barrier between us and a view of the great outdoors. As he leaned over and slipped his hands up the outside of my thighs, I voiced my dissent.

  “March, I was just--”

  His fingers came to rest just beneath my butt cheeks. “Spread your legs,” he said through his teeth.

  I did just as he asked.

  My weight lifted from the floor, and he guided himself between my legs. When I felt the pressure of him penetrating me, my jaw stretched wide and my eyes shot open. He pushed himself into me fully, the force pressing my bare back hard against the cold glass.

  I drew a choppy breath as he slowly withdrew his hips.

  I knew his private section of beach was historically void of anyone. Even so, I found the thought of being fucked while having nothing but a thin piece of glass between me and the outside world extremely risqué.

  “I don’t have the guts to fuck you?” he asked.

  “March. I was--”

  My palms slapped against the glass as he forced his hips between my thighs, shoving his entire length into me in one savage thrust. As the tip of his cock hit a spot inside of me I had no idea existed, the air shot from my lungs.

  He locked eyes with me and held his position. Deep inside of me his thickness throbbed.

  I sucked in a breath.

  “Don’t challenge me,” he growled. “Unless you’re prepared to lose.”

  I started to respond, but I never got the chance.

  His hips began to pound between my thighs mercilessly. My shoulders slapped against the glass with each savage thrust. What little logic I had when we started quickly faded to nothing, leaving me void of any comprehensible thoughts.

  Incapable of much else, I simply enjoyed having him fuck me.

  He continued his sexual onslaught while I gawked at him mindlessly. The sound of our skin-on-skin contact rang throughout the home like an echo bouncing through a canyon’s walls.

  As the aroma of our sex filled the room, I closed my eyes and focused on nothing but the feeling of having him inside of me. All I could feel, understand, or even come close to processing was the feeling of him pummeling my pussy.

  One inch at a time he convinced me to never to challenge him again.

  His breathing became labored, as did mine. Soon, my emotions came to a head and my skin began to tingle. I felt him begin to swell, and my heart raced in anticipation. As I felt my inner walls clench his thick shaft, he pressed his mouth to mine.

  He already owned my pussy, but he took possession my soul with that kiss. With his last few thrusts, he sank his fingers deep into my flesh.

  I moaned against his mouth as the orgasm rushed through me. Then, I felt him explode. A different level of satisfaction came with it, and the combination proved to be all too much. I’ll never know if it was the kiss, the mind-blowing orgasm, or feeling him release his satisfaction into me that caused me to go mindless, but it happened nonetheless.

  When I came to my senses, I was lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

  His fingertips traced along the outline of my jaw. “Are you okay?”

  “Shhh.”

  “Taryn, are you alright?”

  I gazed blankly into the sea of white above me. “Give me a minute.”

  He’d fucked me mindless.

  “You fucked me stupid,” I said.

  “Give me a minute to recover,” he said. “And then I’ll fuck some sense into you.”

  Oh. My. God.

  Chapter Two Hundred Seventy

  Marc

  The free-standing wooden menu was positioned halfway between the entrance and the cashier. We stood in front of it contemplating our order. Taryn’s eyes gleamed with interest, while mine were filled with slight disgust.

  “Personally, I think it should be against the law. Anyone participating in the heinous act would be arrested. If convicted in court, a short imprisonment should follow.”

  She shifted her eyes from the menu to me. “How short?”

  I hadn’t given it much thought. I decided a weekend should suffice. “Forty-eight hours.”

  She shot me a look. “Two days in jail for eating a pizza?”

  “A pizza with pineapple on it.”

  “It’s called the Hawaiian Delight. It’s probably a staple in Hawaii.”

  “In the Guangdong province in China, they eat cat meat. That doesn’t mean it should be on a pizza here.”

  “You don’t have to eat it.”

  “I won’t,” I huffed.

  She shrugged. “Don’t.”

  I turned toward the cashier. “I’m going to have the Meat Lovers.”

  “I’m having the Hawaiian Delight.”

  I spun around. “You are not.”

  “I sure am.”

  I exhaled a long breath. “Are you serious?”

  “I’m going to have it, and that mozzarella salad.”

  The thought of seeing pineapple bits on a pizza disgusted me. I folded my arms across my chest and gave protest. “Get something else.”

  “It’s a free country.” She looked me up and down. “And you said you weren’t controlling.”

  “Fine.” I turned around. “Get the pineapple.”

  The bearded teen behind the register offered a cheery smile. “Welcome to Ward’s Woodfire. What can I get you?”

  “I’ll have the 10” Meat Lovers, a glass of tea, and the house salad. She’d like the…” I paused and stepped aside. “I can’t even say it. You can order.”

  Taryn edged her way in front of me. “I’d like the Hawaiian Delight, the Caprese Salad, and a glass of water, please.”

  He pecked the keys on his register, and then looked up. “That’s an amazing pizza.”

  She shot me a look. “See?”

  I rolled my eyes. “A jury of one.”

  “What are your best-selling pizzas?” Taryn asked.

  He cocked his head to the side and widened his eyes as if he’d been asked to solve the world peace problem with one simple sentence. After considerable thought, he pursed his lips and met Taryn’s wondrous gaze.

  “Margherita is probably numb
er one. Pepperoni is number two. Then, the Hawaiian Delight. A lot of people add jalapenos to it, though. So, a modified Hawaiian Delight’s right in there.”

  She looked at me. “See?”

  “I think it’s disgusting.”

  “Huh?” the bearded kid asked.

  “He thinks the Hawaiian pizza is disgusting.”

  He looked at me. “Duuude. It’s soooo goood.”

  I handed him a $50 bill. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  We took a seat on the outdoor patio and enjoyed our salads. As we waited for the pizzas to arrive, we sat and sipped our drinks. Despite her desire to torture me by consuming a pineapple pizza in my presence, I was elated to have Taryn in my life on a permanent basis.

  It had been three and a half weeks since we’d agreed to be in a relationship, and I still found it difficult to believe I’d found someone to share my life with. I pushed my glass of tea to the side and admired her for a moment as she wiped the condensation from her glass. “I think you need to move in.”

  She choked on her surprise, then looked at me with widened eyes. “What?”

  “Move in. I think you need to move in.”

  “Live together? You and me?”

  “That’s what I’m thinking.”

  “You don’t think that’s premature?”

  I felt just the opposite. “No, I don’t. Do you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You must think something,” I said. “You mentioned it.”

  “I just…I don’t want you offering something like that because you think--”

  “It’s not an offer. I’m not attempting to lure you into something. It’s a suggestion. Excluding one day, we’ve seen each other every day for seven and a half weeks, three and a half of which we’ve been committed to each other.” I leaned against the back of my chair and studied her. “Is the condition that must be met before two people live together a matter of time, or a matter of their level of commitment?”

  “Level of commitment.”

  “I’ll assume your off-hand comment regarding prematurity was referencing time, then.”

  “I was,” she said.

  “Why postpone the inevitable? You’ve stayed all night twenty of the last twenty-four days. It would save time, money, and a hell of a lot of headaches.”