Jerk It

by Lani Lynn Vale

  I glared at him. “Where are you going?”

  He got off the bed completely, and then my mouth went dry at the look of desire on his face.

  He bent down and stripped his socks from his body, tossing them onto the floor next to his feet.

  Then his shirt was next, taking a similar path as his socks.

  My mouth went dry at the look of his wide chest.

  Again, Murphy didn’t have the best body in the gym.

  He had definition along his abs, but they weren’t a six-pack.

  Not even close.

  But it was his shoulders and chest that had my mouth going so dry that it felt like I was swallowing saw dust.

  He had a chest full of hair.

  I wanted to run my fingers all along those wide, expansive plains, feeling every dip and groove.

  I really, really wanted to pause at the small discs of his nipples and pay homage to those, too. With my tongue.

  “You stare at me like you’re starving, and I’m Thanksgiving dinner,” he rumbled.

  I watched, fully engrossed now, as he slowly started on unbuttoning his jeans.

  He wasn’t wearing a belt.

  That meant that his pants were sagging slightly, and the bright green band of his boxer briefs was showing.

  The band of his boxers dug in slightly near the hip area, and the smallest roll of fat near his love handles could be seen now.

  I wanted to run my lips along that line, too.

  “I feel like I’m about to wake up from a dream that even my own mind couldn’t do justice,” I admitted. “I’ve been wanting this for so long that it doesn’t seem real. Any second, you’re going to yell ‘psych’ and take off. And then I’ll really feel like crap.”

  He unzipped his pants and allowed them to fall to the floor next to his ever-growing pile.

  I took in his jet-black boxers with neon green accents, my eyes automatically moving to the one spot next to his junk that was stitched in bright green thread.

  It made his dick look obscenely large.

  So large, in fact, that I now had a small amount of trepidation coursing through me.

  “I…” my voice trailed off when he reached for my own shoes, followed shortly by my socks.

  I wiggled my toes, causing him to smile.

  “Nice toes,” he said.

  I looked down at them.

  They were in sore need of a touch-up. Or hell, they might as well start all the way over due to how ragged the bright green nail polish was.

  “I haven’t had time to make it to the nail place lately,” I admitted.

  You know. Six months, give or take.

  There just wasn’t enough time in the day, unfortunately.

  “Maybe if you’re nice, I’ll do them for you,” he teased.

  There’d been one time when we were smaller that I’d begged him to paint my toes, and he had.

  He’d done a worse job at doing them than I had with my left hand.

  I was surprised he remembered.

  Or admitted it.

  He’d sworn me to secrecy.

  “I’m always nice,” I lied again.

  His eyebrow quirked up on one side, and I couldn’t help the answering laughter that poured out of me.

  Okay, so I wasn’t always nice.

  In fact, I was more often mean than I was nice.

  It was just the way I was.

  I couldn’t help the fact that people were dumb.

  Nor could I help the fact that it was easier to just do everything myself rather than depend on anyone else.

  “Take your shirt off,” he ordered.

  Flames instantly hit my face.

  Unlike my sister, who looked good with her shirt off, I did not.

  I had a mom-bod.

  I had flabby skin, a small pudge, and my boobs had stretch marks from where they’d grown so fast with Vlad.

  The last thing I wanted to do was show him my stomach.

  Yet, upon seeing my hesitation, he took matters into his own hands and casually wrapped his whole hand around my ankle and pulled me down to the bottom of the bed as if I weighed nothing more than a feather.

  I gasped as my back slid against my crappy cotton sheets.

  Never before had I found the slide of them against my skin as erotic.

  But in this instance, when Murphy was the reason for that feeling, I knew that every time it happened from there on out, I would forever remember this instance in time.

  “Shirt. Off,” he urged, his hand smoothing up the length of my calf now.

  His callused hands were catching on my leggings, and a tiny shiver of delight started to trickle down the length of my spine.

  I never thought I could find that erotic—calluses hanging up on fabric because normally, when it was me, I was all…ewww, gross—but when it was him? When it was Murphy’s hand on my leg, and his skin doing that thing against the weird fabric? Well, I thought it was sexy.

  I was so damn weird.

  “Sorry,” he said when he pulled his hand away.

  I leaned forward and pulled my shirt off in one brave move.

  His breath hissed in, and my face flamed.

  I was super, duper self-conscious now that I didn’t look the same as pre-Vlad.

  But before I could so much as overthink a single thing, Murphy growled in approval. “Goddamn, but you’re beautiful.”

  Surprise and elation lit up inside of me at his words.

  “Even in a sports bra with my mommy belly?” I asked, wincing as soon as the words left my mouth.

  He chuckled. “Even with those sexy tiger stripes, and your ability to see things that aren’t even there.”

  I rolled my eyes and finally scrounged up the courage to look up at him.

  His eyes were on my breasts.

  Even in a simple, no-nonsense black sports bra from Walmart, his eyes were fixated.

  His pupils were also dilated, and I could tell that he found me appealing.

  Before I could think better of it, I fell back onto my back, and slowly lowered my stomach-control leggings down my belly and over my hips.

  His gaze moved from my breasts to my lower half, and I swear to God, he growled in approval.

  My skin flushed red at his attention, and I bit my lip as I slowly used both feet to kick off the leggings.

  They were Spanx. Super duper hard to get on, and they looked great when they were in place.

  But they also hid a lot of stuff from the roaming eye, and I didn’t want him to think that I had the perfect body underneath of them.

  I didn’t.

  I was so far from having the perfect body that…

  He crawled between my legs and placed a kiss on each swell of my breasts.

  I groaned and moved my hands to his hair again, loving the way the soft, silky strands sifted through my fingers.

  His mouth moved, and I felt the scratch of his five o’clock shadow along the sensitive skin of my breasts.

  “Is that zipper what I think it is?” he rasped against my skin.

  I reached for the zipper and slowly started to tug it down.

  The moment that the tension became too much, the zipper exploded downward, and my breasts spilled free of their confines.

  He hissed in a breath, his eyes going to my boobs.

  “Goddamn,” he whispered. “What you do to me.”

  I didn’t know what that meant.

  But I did know that he…

  He pressed himself against me, and I finally understood what he meant by ‘what you do to me.’

  He was big.

  So damn big.

  And I wanted him.

  I wanted him to bury every single inch of himself inside of me until I was so full, I couldn’t breathe, let alone think.

  “Your eyes just went all glassy,” he whispered as he pushed up onto his fists.

  I chuckled. “I’m thinking about how you’d feel inside of me,” I replied honestly.

  His mouth moved into a smirk,
and I realized that his lips were really full. Much fuller than I’d ever noticed before.

  And his eyelashes were super long.

  A girl would kill for those lips and eyelashes.

  Hell, I’d once considered paying for those kinds of lashes until I read the lash chick’s paperwork saying that fake eyelashes could cause blindness. And I wasn’t about that blind life.

  I knew that it was possible to live without your sight. I actually had two friends that were blind that I’d met during nursing school. But, I was pretty solidly in the ‘clutz’ category.

  I already sucked balls walking on a normal day. Could you imagine…

  “Are you paying attention?” Murphy rasped as he pressed himself against me.

  I swallowed hard. “I was thinking about your eyelashes.”

  Those very eyelashes I’d just been thinking about swept up in surprise as he stared at me with confusion. “What about them?”

  “I was thinking,” I said as I smoothed my hands back into his hair. “That you have very pretty lashes. And your hair is really soft, too. And those lips…yeah, those lips are pretty amazing.”

  He grinned, causing those sexy lips to quirk.

  “Anything else?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “I haven’t really gotten to explore anything else.”

  He grunted out a reply that ended with, “maybe later.”

  Then he was kissing his way down my stomach, and shivers raced him down to the promise land.

  “I haven’t done this since…” I started to say.

  “Since you got pregnant,” he answered for me. “I figured.”

  His lips paused on my belly, pressing a kiss to one of the more prominent stretch marks before continuing down to my plain black cotton panties.

  “I always thought you’d be in something sexier,” he admitted as he skimmed his mouth along the top of my pubic bone. “But for some reason, seeing you in plain black cotton panties does it more for me than the lace.”

  I swallowed hard. “Lace takes time and effort to take care of. I don’t have that time. Nor do I possess the ability to put forth the effort.”

  He opened his mouth and bit down on the flesh covering my pubic bone, causing me to gasp, and my nipples to pebble.

  I leaned up and yanked my gaping bra off, causing him to pause in his exploration of the outside of my panties.

  He watched from his belly, his face filling with amusement, as I shucked the garment—a bit rougher than I’d originally intended—and tossed it to the floor with the rest of our garments.

  His gaze took in my boobs, and his eyes went lazy.

  “Do you think,” he said as he watched me settle back down to my back, “you could let me be in control for a bit?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Bras are confining, and my nipples are so sensitive right now that it was either take it off or orgasm before you even touched me.”

  His eyes went intense. “You’re that sensitive?”

  I shrugged. “When I was pregnant, this thing started happening…”

  “What kind of thing?” he wondered, trailing back up the length of my body.

  His attention was fully caught now.

  “I,” I breathed out roughly when his breath skimmed over my distended nipples. “The orgasm thing started to become really easy. Like, all I would have to do was think about it and then I was ready. Touch my breasts? Orgasm. Water from the shower head grazes my clit? Definitely on the road to orgasm. It’s just…weird.”

  He brought his big body up between my legs and settled in on his knees, his hands skimming up either sides of my ribs as he came to a stop just below my breasts.

  I watched with avid attention as he carefully brought his hands forward to cup my breasts.

  My breath hitched.

  I wasn’t at orgasm point yet but…if he continued? I just very well might.

  His gaze was bouncing from my breasts to my face and back, gauging my reaction.

  He knew exactly what he was doing to me, too.

  And when he brought one thumb up and slowly swept it over the tip of one nipple, my entire body jolted as if I’d touched a live wire.

  “Shit,” he hissed. “You’re not kidding.”

  I laughed breathlessly. “You have no idea.”

  “I’m about to find out,” he threatened.

  Then he was leaning down and bringing his mouth to hover over my nipple.

  He blew on the tip, and I squeezed my eyes closed in anticipation.

  Goosebumps were spreading all over my body as I tried to keep myself in check.

  But I knew it was worthless.

  Why?

  Because Alessio Murphy Romano was about to touch my nipple with his tongue. I just knew it. And I was about to experience an out-of-body experience the moment that he did.

  “You’re being very still,” he teased as he squeezed my breast—being very careful to avoid my nipples with his fingers—while he breathed on the other one.

  I shifted my legs, causing my overheated core to brush against his extremely hard thigh.

  I froze as an ache started to fill my bottom half.

  I was seconds away from orgasm.

  And he didn’t even know it.

  One more brush of that thigh and…

  He brought my nipple to his mouth and I detonated.

  One hard suck was all it took, and I was coming like a freight train.

  “You weren’t kidding,” he breathed as he sucked my nipple through the orgasm.

  I slumped to the bed, deflated. “I don’t usually lie.”

  He bent down and bit that sensitive tip in reprimand. “No, you only forge signatures.”

  I definitely deserved the nip.

  I deserved a spanking, too.

  I shouldn’t have done that.

  I should’ve…

  He yanked my panties off of my hips in one smooth move.

  “I was intending to taste you,” he admitted as he settled himself between my thighs. “But now I think I’ll just sink inside of you and see where it leads us.”

  I shivered in delight.

  “You covered?” he asked as he slowly lowered his boxer briefs to reveal his cock.

  Oh, God.

  What a cock it was.

  “Yes,” I told him. “I have an IUD. Had it placed after my last gynecologist appointment.”

  He grumbled something as he slowly swirled the tip of his cock in the juices that were seeping out of my entrance.

  “I’m clean,” he promised.

  I was a nurse.

  I was supposed to be asking these types of things.

  But it hadn’t even occurred to me, dammit!

  I was in a Murphy Haze. I should have it listed as a real medical condition.

  Because I couldn’t make myself think.

  I couldn’t even make sense of that big thing he was currently teasing me with, either.

  I licked my lips and started to pant out a surprised staccato of breaths.

  He notched his cock head at my entrance and I froze.

  When he started to push inside, I grabbed his wrist, fingers tightening in response, and cried out in surprise.

  The moment he breached my entrance, I saw stars.

  “Your wrist is really big,” I found myself saying.

  Had those words really just come out of my mouth?

  “Just my wrist?” he growled against my lips.

  “No,” I breathed.

  Though his wrist was really big—I couldn’t get over just how big it actually was in comparison to my hand—I wasn’t thinking about his wrist at all. I was thinking about his cock.

  Which was what truly was big.

  “Your wrists are really small,” he teased, reaching for my other wrist with his free hand and bringing it up above my head.

  He pressed it down into the mattress and squeezed it lightly.

  I bit my lip and went up lightly into a hollow bodied hold to be able to see past my breasts to where he wa
s pressing into me.

  His cock was large.

  There was no doubt about it.

  I mean, it should’ve been obvious seeing as Murphy was a big guy.

  But, I guess, I hadn’t really thought about the congruency of body parts that were on the outside of his clothes to the ones that were on the inside.

  I should have.

  Because now that I was seeing it with my own eyes, I was a bit stunned in surprise.

  I knew he was big.

  But man, his cock was death-defyingly big.

  “Relax,” he rumbled, sweeping a thumb over my nipple.

  My arm that was still latched onto his wrist swept over the other nipple, and I groaned in response to both touches.

  “I’m trying,” I fell back onto the pillows and closed my eyes. “But the last thing that had to do with my vagina that had any girth to it whatsoever ended up taking me out of commission for weeks.”

  He would know.

  He’d been there for it.

  Speaking of…

  “You don’t, like, see me in that unflattering position delivering my child while you’re trying to stick your cock in me, do you?” I asked.

  He froze with his cock about a quarter inch inside of me, with still so, so, so much to go.

  His eyes slowly moved up to meet mine.

  “I hadn’t been…” he paused. “But now I think I might’ve lost all will to do this.”

  He was lying.

  His cock was still just as hard as it’d been before I asked the question.

  I scoffed and started to wiggle to make room for the cock that he was still feeding me in slow increments.

  “You’re teasing me,” I told him. “Just get it inside of me already.”

  He brought his mouth down to my throat instead and started to lightly suck on the skin that was right beneath my right ear.

  I closed my eyes and wrapped both legs around his waist, trying to hold on when I knew that I was about to fly apart again.

  He didn’t do as I requested. At least not with any sense of urgency.

  By the time that he was all the way inside of me, though, I’d had another orgasm, and was panting and as out of breath as he was.

  His eyes were locked on me as his breathing was labored.

  I pressed my hand to the wide pectoral muscle above his heart and could feel it working a mile a minute.

  Using a move I learned in a martial arts class that I took for protection, I moved until he was on his back, and I was on top of him.