Fool For You (Made for Love Book 4)

by R. C. Martin

  “Okay,” she murmurs, her eyes falling to my dick. She licks her lips and then hesitantly wraps her mouth around my head. My grip in her hair tightens at the slightest touch of her tongue, my neglected cock growing even harder in anticipation of what’s to come.

  I watch as she takes more of me inside of her, stroking the base of my shaft with a tentative hand. She feels sensational, but I need more. I can tell she’s unsure, so I patiently wait for her to grow acclimated to my size before I offer her further instruction. A couple minutes later, my patience has worn out and I’m about ready to fuck the shit out of her mouth.

  “Suck, sweetheart—harder,” I demand, sliding my second hand into her hair as I help guide her up and down my length. She does as I ask and my groan will not be silenced. “Fuck, Teddy—just like that.”

  I’m so turned on. I can’t remember the last time I wanted a woman’s touch this much. Staring down at her, my shy girl, I realize that the reality of her lips around my cock isn’t as good as I imagined it would be—it’s better—and I. Need. More.

  I hold her head still, half of my dick encased in the warmth of her mouth. “Listen carefully. I want you to relax your throat and take what I give you—do you understand?” She nods, and I don’t hold back. I buck my hips fast and hard, chasing my release. She whimpers, spurring me on even more. When I hit the back of her throat and she gags, I feel my balls start to tighten. “Fuck, yes—such a good girl, Teddy. You feel so damn good.” She sucks harder and it is my undoing. With one more thrust, my muscles grow stiff, my grip in her hair grows tighter still, and my dick pulses as I spill my release down her throat. I come long. I come hard. I come loud—and she takes it all.

  When I let her go, she pulls away from me, flashing that doe-eyed expression of hers. One look, and I know I can’t let her leave this ride until I’ve tasted her climax.

  “Take off your skirt,” I demand, tucking my dick away.

  She watches me, just long enough to see me zip up my pants, and then she stands and does as I ask. As soon as she steps out of the garment, I reach for her hips and turn her back to me. I then guide her down into my lap, spreading her legs wide. I can hear her rapid, ragged breaths, and a cocky grin spreads across my face.

  I haven’t even touched her yet.

  “Did you enjoy my dick in your mouth?” I ask, cupping my hand over her pussy. She nods, leaning her back against me. “Are you wet, Teddy?”

  “Yes,” she whispers.

  “Show me,” I insist, pulling my hand away from her. When she doesn’t move, I bring my lips to her ear and whisper, “Stick your fingers inside your wet cunt, Teddy, and show me how wet you are for me.”

  She’s panting now, and I can already feel my hard-on returning as I watch her slowly slip her fingers into her panties. When she pulls them out, her first two fingers glistening with her arousal, I grab her wrist and bring her fingers to my mouth. She gasps as I suck them clean. Then I wrap one arm around her waist, holding her tight against me as I shove my free hand into her panties.

  “Oh, god,” she moans loudly when I thrust two fingers inside of her.

  I bury my face in her neck, breathing her in. She’s dripping wet, her desire making a mess of my hand, and it’s so fucking hot. When she grinds down against me, her body begging for more, I swear to god, I almost come again.

  “Does my shy girl need more? Huh?”

  “Please,” she mewls.

  I pump faster and harder, reaching up to cup my hand around her small breast. She throws her head back, resting it against my shoulder as she grabs my forearm and rocks her hips. She’s chasing after her orgasm, her intoxicated state making her bolder than I’ve ever seen her, and it’s sexy as shit.

  “Oh, Judah—I’m going to come. Can I come?”

  Holy motherfucking mother of god.

  She just asked my permission to come.

  If I wasn’t sure before, I’m sure as fuck without a doubt now.

  This woman is mine.

  “Yes, sweetheart,” I say, pressing my thumb against her clit. “You may come.”

  She cries out, her pussy tightening around me as she surrenders to her climax. When she sags against me, her body spent, I dip my fingers in my mouth and taste what is good.

  “Hey,” I mutter in an attempt to get her attention. She turns her head just enough to be able to look me in the eye. “Come ‘ere,” I tell her, tapping my lips.

  She grins at me before she shifts in my lap, circling her arms around my neck as she presses her mouth to mine. I try not to kiss her for too long, sure that we’ve been gone far longer than twenty minutes, but my craving has yet to be satisfied.

  “Jude?” she whispers against my lips as she severs our kiss.

  “Teddy?”

  “Will you take me home with you tonight?”

  I mull her request over in my mind, mentally scanning through my memory of the work I intended to do at the office later today.

  “Please?” she begs, holding me closer before giving me another kiss.

  Her touch invites my dick into the conversation, and I decide anything that I need to get done can be done from home.

  “Yes.”

  She kisses me once more with a giggle before she asks, “Can we go now?”

  I smile at her as I run my hand up her bare thigh. “Let’s get you dressed, then we’ll go pick up your friends and head back.”

  “Okay,” she says, scrambling out of my lap. I instruct the driver to return to The Chapel as Teddy wiggles her way into her skirt. Once she’s dressed, she curls up against my side, snuggling against me. “Thank you, Judah. This really has been the most wonderful birthday. I’ll never forget it.”

  “You’re welcome,” I reply, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

  She frees a contented sigh. By the time we’re back at the nightclub, she’s fast asleep.

  My pounding head wakes me from a deep sleep, and I moan at the amount of light shining down on me. I peek open one eye, wondering why I’m bathed in so much sun, and I’m met with a wall of windows. Judah’s bedroom windows, looking out into his backyard. I close my eye when I realize I don’t remember getting into his bed. Then I try and piece together the evening before. I scan through my memory bank, feeling pretty confident until the drive home. In fact, I don’t remember anything after Judah—

  I suck in a sharp breath, sitting bolt upright—regretting the act immediately. I free a groan, holding my aching head as I replay my joy ride with Judah. Before I can fully process where the hell I got the gumption to do that, I remember a tall brunette woman with her hands on him. As if my sobriety has decided to come with all the emotions I was too juiced up to feel last night, I’m suddenly really annoyed. I vaguely remember her saying something about Jude’s dick—which takes me back to what we did in the party bus.

  Shit…I put his dick in my mouth!

  I realize that I have no idea where his dick has been. I didn’t even ask him if he was clean, or the last time he got tested. I make a mental note to bring that up. Then a shy smile pushes aside my worry when it dawns on me that last night, he came inside of my mouth. I think back on the way he had tugged at my hair, the way he told me exactly what he wanted, and the sound of his roar when his climax hit. While I still won’t list a blowjob as one of the most enjoyable experiences I’ve ever had, I can’t deny that making him come was certainly the most erotic moment of my life.

  I—Theodora Rose Fitzpatrick—brought Judah D. St. Michaels to orgasm.

  I make a mental note to ask him what the D in his name stands for, and then I climb out of bed. Before my feet hit the floor, I notice that I’m not wearing any underwear—none. The only thing covering my body is one of Jude’s t-shirts. I panic, which does nothing for my head, wondering how much of myself I let him see last night. I run my fingers through my hair, scanning the room quickly in an attempt to find my clothes—but I see nothing. I wander into the closet, and it’s just as neat and tidy as always. Finally, I rush into
the bathroom. Oddly, all I find there is my toothbrush. I make use of it before dealing with the rest of my appearance.

  Other than a little bit of smeared mascara underneath my eyes, I don’t look too bad—my bed-head semi-manageable with my locks straightened. I make myself as presentable as possible and then I take a deep breath before I go looking for Jude.

  I get two steps out of his bedroom before I feel completely self-conscious and totally naked. I grip the hem of his shirt, making sure it’s tight around my thighs, and tiptoe my way to his office. There, behind his desk and looking as debonair as always, is where I find him. He’s obviously been up for a while, dressed in a pair of navy khakis and a pale blue, button-down shirt, his hair slicked back and his face shaved. I feel completely silly in my current state, and I’m half tempted to go back to his closet and hunt for a sweatshirt.

  Though, something tells me that he probably doesn’t own a single one.

  “She wakes,” he says, looking over at me before I can scurry away.

  “Hi,” I manage, my cheeks heating in a blush.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Hungover,” I grumble.

  “The aftereffects of a birthday well spent.”

  I offer him a slight nod, and then I can’t take the mystery anymore. I have to know.

  “How much of me did you…um…see last night?”

  He flashes a knowing smirk as he leans back in his chair and shakes his head at me. “Nothing new, Teddy.” I raise a suspicious eyebrow at him, making him chuckle. “You insisted that you were perfectly capable of undressing yourself, so I respected your wishes.”

  “Oh,” I murmur, relief washing over me. It lasts only a second before I ask, “And where is my underwear?”

  He laughs before he informs me, “You threw them in my hamper.”

  “Oh, god,” I groan. I can only imagine how ridiculous my reasoning behind that decision was. I reach up to run my fingers through my hair, and then whine as the act makes the hem of his t-shirt ride up. I immediately drop my hands, questioning how weird it would be to dig out my panties so that I have something to wear.

  “Come here, Teddy.” I hesitate for beat, but then my body does what it wants and I slowly make my way across the room and behind his desk. He swivels his chair so that he’s facing me, and then he grabs the back of my thighs, coaxing me toward him. “Harper dropped by a few hours ago, before she headed home. She brought your keys and a bag and told me to tell you to call her as soon as you felt human again.”

  I pull my lip between my teeth, fighting a grin. I love my sister dearly, but I don’t remember the last time she saved my ass, making me love her so much more. I owe her for this one. Except, if she dropped my bag off this morning—“Wait, how did my toothbrush get in the bathroom?”

  “When we dropped Harper at your place last night, you insisted you needed it. Wouldn’t leave without it.”

  “Shit,” I mutter, hiding my face behind my hands. “You must think I’m the most annoying drunk.”

  He chuckles, pulling me closer, his hands sliding slowly up the back of my legs. “Miss Fitzpatrick, you are a delightful drunk.”

  I part my fingers, peeking out between them at his face. “Really?”

  “You were feeling particularly frisky last night. You won’t hear me complain about that.”

  “Mmm, about that,” I hum dropping my hands to anxiously fidget with the hem of his t-shirt. “I didn’t exactly think that through. I mean—we didn’t, like, talk about it.” He frowns at me, silently expressing his confusion. “I just—I know you’ve been with other women.”

  The brunette from The Chapel flashes in my memory again, and I feel both irritated and self-conscious. Up until that moment, I felt like Jude and I had been in our own little bubble—untouched by the reputation I’m sure goes along with his name. But now?

  “Teddy, I’m a thirty-one-year-old man who has been enjoying sex for more than a decade. Of course I’ve been with other women. I can’t erase my sexual history now that I’m in a relationship.”

  “No—I know. That’s not—I mean, I wasn’t…” I close my eyes and take a breath. I need coffee. But more than that, his statement is like a reality check that has caught me off guard. He’s right—it’s not my place to judge his past. What matters now is that he has chosen me—and that is a truth that makes my stomach flutter, my heart race, and my skin tingle. He’s in a relationship with me.

  I—Theodora Rose Fitzpatrick—belong to Judah D. St. Michaels.

  I make another mental note to find out with the D stands for in his name, and then I open my eyes and look at my boyfriend. He’s staring at me, a calm, contemplative look on his face. He looks so handsome, my mysterious man, I almost forget what we were talking about. Almost.

  “I just want to make sure we’re being safe. I know we’re not having sex yet but…but we will. And given your sexual history, I just want to make sure you’re clean.”

  “Miss Fitzpatrick,” he murmurs, sliding his hands over my ass as he pulls me closer. I squirm under his touch, resting my hands on top of his shoulders. “Did you just promise me sex?”

  After last night, I wonder why he would even feign surprise. I think I made it pretty clear how much I want him. Sure, I had the help of more than enough liquid courage, but my desire to be with him—my desire to please him—it came from someplace real.

  “Last night wasn’t just about my birthday. I’m in this with you…and I want you, too,” I whisper, feeling slightly embarrassed to be having this conversation while his hands are gripping my ass.

  “I can hardly wait,” he replies, his voice low and sultry.

  I watch as his eyes drop from mine down to my chest. Then, he opens his mouth around my breast. It’s as if he has x-ray vision and can see right through his t-shirt, his tongue rubbing over my nipple as he sucks. In spite of the cotton that separates my skin from the heat of his mouth, my nipples both pebble in an instant.

  “Jude—what are you doing?” I ask airily, my fingers finding their way into his hair.

  “I’m playing with my woman’s tits,” he mutters, letting go of one nipple only to latch on to the other.

  I can feel it as my desire pools between my legs. Now more than ever, I wish that I wasn’t panty-less. If he doesn’t stop soon, I’m sure my arousal will be dripping down my leg. He makes me so wet, it’s almost embarrassing. Then again—one look at him, and who could blame me?

  I’m so distracted by my lustful thoughts, I squeal in surprise when he grips my hips and lifts me onto his desk.

  “Jude!”

  “Lay back, sweetheart.”

  “Wait, Judah—we just talked about—”

  “Me,” he interrupts, his grey eyes locked with mine. “We just talked about me. I’ll call the doc this afternoon. But we both know this pussy is clean—and I want some.” He spreads my legs wide and my belly is stirred by a warm, raw longing I know only Jude can satisfy. “I won’t ask you again, Teddy.”

  I nod and then comply, easing my way back across his glass desk. He drags his tongue up my slit slowly, and it’s all I can do to keep breathing. When he reaches my clit, he sucks it into his mouth, eliciting a soft moan from me. He feels better than amazing, and I wonder why on earth I ever thought of stopping him. After he lets go of my sensitive nub, he swirls his tongue around my entrance, teasing me in the most blissful way. Then, we both groan when he finally thrusts it inside of me.

  I arch my back, my body so turned on I don’t quite know what to do. His hands grip my sides, but I wish they were everywhere—roaming every inch of skin on me. I’ve never wanted someone the way that I want him. It scares me, but it thrills me just the same.

  “Come for me, Teddy,” he says, the vibration of his voice felt against my clit before he sucks it into his mouth once more. He then slides a finger inside of me and I suck in shallow breath, my hands flying to his hair of their own accord.

  “Jude!” I cry, my orgasm so close I can practically t
aste it.

  He sucks harder, thrusting his finger faster, and my insides tighten around him as I moan unabashedly through the duration of my release. When he pulls away from me, I remain a trembling mess across his desk, trying to catch my breath.

  He stands and leans over me, an arrogant grin spread across his face. “I’ve got a few things I need to finish up, but if you hop in the shower, I’ll take you to lunch when you’re ready.”

  “Okay,” I agree with a nod.

  He kisses me before taking my hands and helping me off of his workspace. After he tells me where I can find the bag Harper dropped off earlier, I head back toward his bedroom. Just as I step into the hallway, I chance a glance back over my shoulder and find his eyes glued on me. I smile at him, giddy at the thought that he couldn’t take his eyes off of me.

  I’m still not sure how this became my reality, but that gorgeous man is mine, and I feel like the most spoiled girl in the world.

  The night that Justin raped me, after I managed to pick myself up, all I wanted was to wash him off of me. I don’t know how long I stood under the spray of a scalding hot shower, crying as I rubbed every inch of my body vigorously. Then, for the following twenty-four hours, all I could do was lay curled up on my mattress. I didn’t even have any sheets. I’d thrown them away. They were soiled with my blood and his semen.

  After the first day, I stupidly wondered if he would come back. I wondered if he would apologize, tell me that he hadn’t meant to hurt me—that he loved me like he said that he did. Of course I was met with silence. Then, when I reached out to a mutual friend, everything went from horrible to horrendous. I confided in her, and not only did she not believe me, but she put me on blast. One totally passive aggressive status on Facebook, and I was done—deemed a liar and the worst kind of friend.

  By the time I was brave enough to tell Harper, it had been a week. I felt like my life was over, and even her love and affection couldn’t quite make the pain go away. She told me that I should go to the police, that I should report the rape and get myself checked out, but I refused. I was convinced that they wouldn’t believe me—and even if they did, that Justin would only deny it.