by Nikki Ash
He pulled me against him almost frantically, but I willingly leaned in more, shifting so I was now straddling him, both of us on the floor, his back to the couch, mine to the TV. He had his arms wrapped around me, my breasts to his chest, my knees elevating me slightly so I wasn't pressed fully down on him.
I rectified that right away, this surge of power claiming me because I was buzzed and feeling oh so good, and didn’t want this to ever end with Jameson.
I sank down fully on him, our clothes a barrier I desperately wanted gone. But God did I feel every hard inch of him, especially the stiff length tenting his jeans and pressed right up against my extremely wet sex.
He groaned harshly and I felt him lift his hip, and if he couldn’t help himself. He ground that massive erection into me and I gasped, then kissed him with more fervor.
“Lia,” he grunted against my mouth. “I’ve wanted you like this for so long.”
It’s just the booze making him say these things. It’s just the passion and being in the heat of the moment.
I gasped at how good this all felt. Hearing his groan, knowing he felt good because of this, because of me, was like an auditory orgasm all on its own.
“You feel that?” His words were murmured against my mouth, and before I could answer he was kissing me even harder at the same time he lifted his hips again and ground that massive erection against the most sensitive spot on my body. “You feel what you do to me?”
God. Yes.
“I am so fucking hard for you, baby.”
The way he said those words, so crudely, so very brutally, were nothing I’d never envisioned coming out of Jameson’s mouth. He seemed so very masculine in this moment, desire and the primal need to join us overriding everything else.
God, I was so ready for him, for this.
The alcohol had most definitely helped my reservations leave. They’d packed their bags and said, “Bye bitch. You’re on your own.”
“Tell me you want this just as much as I do, just as much as I have.” He had his mouth at my throat, his tongue flicking, licking, his teeth nipping. “Lie to me if you have to.”
God, I wouldn’t have to lie. Not about this. Not about him.
“I want this, Jameson.” I felt drunker than I was, the feeling of floating, of being high, as if this were an out of body experience, moving through me like a derailed train.
He swallowed, the sound amplified in the room, and then was moving his hands between our bodies and going for the button and fly of his jeans all the while kissing me like he was drowning and I was his life raft.
The kiss was sloppy, hectic, filled with passion, but I didn’t care how uncoordinated we both were as we started tearing at our clothing. I just wanted this moment with Jameson no matter what. My heart was in my throat, sweat beading between my breasts, and my anticipation and nervousness was so strong I felt dizzy from it all.
“I need you--”
“I want you--”
He groaned at my words. I moaned at his. And the way we were continuing to get the clothes out of the way that separated us.
I pulled back so I could get my shirt up and over my head. My gaze was locked on him as he did the same. Then my bra. I stood and shucked off my pants and underwear; Jameson doing the same, my mouth drying when the thick, long length of him was revealed.
Oh. God. He’s huge.
My nipples were so hard they ached.
He was masculine with hard lines, sharp edges, and defined muscle.
I opened my mouth to say something--anything--maybe beg for this, or sputter out unintelligible words. But before a word could leave my lips, he was on the couch and pulling me back down on his lap. I straddled him once more, his hand sliding up my chest, over my collarbone, and then he was curling his fingers around the side of my throat, keeping me in place as he kissed me hard and possessively.
His body was so hard where mine was soft, his groans deep where mine were feminine.
But we were both so damn aroused, the same intensity in our touches and kissing.
“Maybe we should slow down,” I found myself saying, then cursed because that was the last thing I wanted to do.
He pulled back, panting, his great, wide chest heaving. It was clear it took a hell of a lot of strength on his part to pull away. His eyes were on my mouth, his lips parted, his eyes hooded.
“Is that what you want?” he asked softly, his voice husky.
I shook my head. “Figured one of us should probably say it, you know, the voice of reason and all that.”
“Fuck reason,” he groaned, and slammed his mouth back down on mine.
Maybe this was a bad idea, but it didn’t feel wrong. It felt right and perfect and way overdue. I’d fantasized about doing just this with Jameson for so long that it almost seemed like I was dreaming, still locked in that fantasy.
I moaned at Jameson’s flavor, and just like his namesake, he was spicy and warm, filling me with a buzz that had my muscles aching and my pussy growing impossibly wetter.
He started gently lifting his hips up, grinding that massive length that stood straight up and proud against me, letting me know where he really wanted it.
“I never want you to stop,” I cried out as a shockwave of pleasure moved through me.
He purred.
There was no stopping this, but I didn’t want it to end. In fact, I wanted it to go even further, as far and as wide as humanly possible.
“Touch me,” he groaned against my mouth, the sound guttural, harsh, a demand like it was the only thing that would ease his pain. “Please, Lia. Christ, please touch me.”
My nipples tingled and my pussy clenched at how he said those words, begged and pleaded for me to ease his suffering. The ache I felt was something only Jameson could ease. I wanted him deep inside me, stretching me, taking my virginity, making the pain and pleasure coalesce as one.
Moving his mouth from my lips, along my cheek, and finally stopping by my ear, I listened to the harsh sound of his breath leaving him and bathing my ultra-sensitive skin. “I need your hands on me, baby.”
My eyes closed on their own and a shiver wracked my body, my emotions having me writhe against him. And then I found myself reaching between us, as if my hand had a mind of its own.
“Yes,” he hissed. “Fuck… yes. Do it. Touch me.”
I felt renewed power as I gripped that massive length between his thighs. Every part of me went tight then stilled when I felt his cock jerk in my hold.
“God,” he groaned and rested his head back on the cushion, his eyes nothing but mere slits of teal light. He kept watching me, his lips parted slightly as he breathed harshly. “I’m doing everything in my power not to come right now.”
I breathed out roughly as all I could feel was Jameson.
All I could smell, feel, hear, experience was this man right here in front of me.
All I wanted was Jameson. Now and always.
He moved a hand down my hip, along my lower back, and stopped when his fingertips brushed along the crease of my ass. I swore he held his breath. I know I did.
“I’m barely hanging on as it is, Lia.” His voice was so gruff, so deep. “I could get off by just holding you close, but coupled with your hand on my cock....” he groaned again.
I let the air leave me harshly, not able to hold it in.
My body was on fire, my pussy so saturated from my heat that I felt all that wetness sliding down my inner thighs.
And then I did wrap my hand around his erection, a gasp leaving me at finally holding him in my hand, the sheer size of him, his length, girth… the whole package so startling even though I’d seen it with my own eyes.
I may be inexperienced, but even I knew his size was well above average. Soooo above average.
“Yes,” he hissed when I tentatively stroked my hand up his length. “I’ve never had anyone touch me, Lia. Never done anything like this.”
My heart was thundering at his words. Could he mean what I thought? Was
he saying he was---
“I’ve never been with anyone,” he finished my inner thoughts as if I’d spoken them out loud.
That had me stilling, my hand no longer moving up and down his length, my eyes opening wide, my heart momentarily stopping.
“Mood killer?” He grimaced and shifted on the couch, but a flush stole over me, heat settling into my core even more.
“I've never been with anyone either.” Those words spilled from me on a rush and he closed his eyes, clenched his jaw, and I heard this rumble leave his chest. “So no… not a mood killer. In fact, knowing you haven’t been with anyone either turns me on.”
He leaned forward and crushed me to him even more, his mouth back on my neck. I was starting to realize Jameson was a throat man for sure. He licked and sucked at my neck at the same time I started moving my palm up and down his length again.
“Fuck.” He groaned against my neck. His mouth was back on mine in an instant, his hands on my ass as he squeezed the mounds as if he couldn’t control himself.
And then in a move so fast I didn’t even have time to prepare for it, Jameson was off the couch with me in his arms. Instinctively I wrapped my legs around his waist, my arms around his shoulders. He didn’t tell me where he was going, but it didn’t take a genius to know he was taking us to the bedroom.
And I'd never anticipated anything more.
Once in the room I was vaguely aware of Jameson shutting the door with his foot, the slam of that wood sealing us in seeming to barely pierce the fog of arousal drowning me in the best way.
“I want you. I need you so fucking bad.”
“Yes,” I found myself murmuring against his lips, then tilted my head and deepened the kiss, needing more… so much more. I wanted to be flat on the bed, wanted Jameson over me, his much bigger body covering me, pressing me down on that mattress. My mind was pleasantly fuzzy from the liquor, but even more so because of my desire.
I stroked my tongue along his, tasting the alcohol he’d also consumed, a little voice in the back of my head telling me I needed to think this through more.
I shut that inner door just as hard as Jameson had shut his bedroom door.
We were both pleasantly, vertically naked, and the feel of all his hot, hard flesh pressed against mine, of the wet slickness of his cockhead against my belly, his pre-cum smearing into my flesh, had me moaning.
“Mine,” he groaned, but the word was so low I wondered if I’d imagined it.
“I’m burning alive,” I found myself saying.
“We can both go up in flames then, baby,” he responded and kissed me with more fervor.
And then my back met the mattress and Jameson was right on top of me, splitting my thighs wide, settling between them, and letting me feel that hard length that would soon be buried deep in my body.
Chapter Four
Lia
“Jameson,” I groaned his name, my mouth at the crook of his neck, both of us breathing so hard.
“I want this to last.” His voice was muffled, his warm, humid breath skating along my body and sending shivers up and down my arms. “But I’m so far over the edge I’m afraid this’ll be over with before we really begin.”
The fact he was that worked up turned me on even more. I found myself lifting my hips a bit more, my slick sex rubbing against his rigid cock. He hissed and turned his head so he could kiss me, and for long, drugging seconds that's all we did.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, steadying myself for what was about to come, for what I really wanted to happen. I was done waiting. I’d felt like I’d been holding my breath for this experience for so long that I’d die if it didn’t happen now.
Jameson broke away and lifted his head up slightly, only enough that I could see his eyes were closed, his jaw was set tight, and he bit his lower lip and he pressed his hips further into the cradle of mine. The simple motion brought the very male part of him to the very female part of me, and now it was my turn to hiss at the contact.
“God, Lia.” He swallowed as if he couldn't get the rest of the words out. “You’re so wet for me.”
I could only nod. I was soaked, my wetness coating my inner thighs embarrassingly so.
He moved his fingers on the outside of my thigh, curled the digits under my knee, then pulled my leg out at the same time he moved back a little more. I held my breath as I watched him lower his eyes to the spot he spread wide, and he revealed my pussy in the dim lighting of the room.
The air left him almost violently. “God. Fuck… Lia.” He snapped his eyes back to my face. “You’re perfect.” Those last two words were so low I almost couldn’t make them out.
Jameson sat back on his knees, still holding me open. I braced my other foot on the bed, splitting my thighs open even wider, to which he groaned and closed his eyes for a second. I watched his nostrils flare slightly as he inhaled, then this rumble left him.
“You smell incredible.”
“Kiss me,” I begged and he growled right before he pressed his chest to mine again and our mouths crashed together in a tangle of lips and teeth.
He ground his cock against me. I writhed underneath him.
“Be with me.” I didn’t care if I sounded desperate.
I shifted and as if our bodies were magnets and hungry for this just as much as we were, his cockhead aligned perfectly with my opening. He stilled and gnashed his teeth together. His eyes grew hooded as he stared at me, and the blue color of his irises seemed to glow.
“You feel so… big, and you’re not even in me yet.” I don’t know why I’d said those words, but I saw this absolutely primal expression cover his face after I spoke them.
He leaned in and rested his forehead against mine, and we gasped against each other’s mouths. “You sure you’re ready?”
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders again, and did the same with my legs around his waist. “I’ve never been surer, Jameson.”
“I love you,” he said against my cheek. “I love you, Lia.”
I closed my eyes, not reading into it. Loving someone and being in love with someone were two very different things.
“I love you, too,” I said, the truth in those words so real I teared up.
And then he started to push inside of me, stretching me, thrusting those thick inches into my virgin body, giving himself to me just as I was doing the same to him.
I let my head fall back against the mattress and closed my eyes, pushing past the discomfort, noting he moved slowly, giving me time to really feel him and get used to the sensations. It felt like I was burning alive, stretched in two, so fully penetrated I couldn't even catch my breath.
And then Jameson was buried to the hilt inside of me, his cock so thick and long, so hard and filling me up completely. For long moments he didn’t move, just stayed there, his cock twitching, my inner muscles clamping down.
“You doing okay?” he asked right by my ear, and I nodded, not trusting my voice.
In and out. Slow. Steady. Jameson moved within me like he thought I’d break. I wanted to tell him I wanted it all, fast and hard, completing me and consuming me.
“Oh, Lia. Christ.” He grunted. “You feel so fucking good wrapped around me.” He pulled back, his arms straight on either side of my head, his skin tight. Seeing all of that hard muscle flexing under golden flesh had a shiver working through me.
He felt so deep inside of me.
“More,” I whispered and Jameson made this low sound in the back of his throat before he pulled almost all the way out, the head poised at my entrance, then slammed back into me.
I arched my back, tipped my head, and closed my eyes as that discomfort started being pushed away and pleasure took control.
His movements became fluid. Steady. Even.
The sound of wet skin slapping together, of sex meeting sex, of grunts and groans filled my head.
Thrusting in. Pulling out. Pushing in deep, retreating until just the head was lodged in me.
Jameson had
his eyes closed, a fine sheen of sweat all over his body. He clenched his jaw and relaxed it. Clenched and relaxed. He was the perfect male specimen. Strong and virile, masculine and powerful.
I felt a climax climbing.
“Lia,” he moaned and rested his chest back on mine, went back to kissing me while never stopping his even thrusting. “That’s it.” His voice was tight. “God… fuck, yeah.” His words were clipped and heated, his pleasure evident. He slammed into me once, twice, and on the third time stilled, pulling back and staring into my eyes, making me feel every last hard, big inch of him. “Tell me this is as perfect for you as it is for me.”
I swallowed hard and nodded.
He shook his head. “Say it. Say the words.”
“It’s more than I could have ever dreamed of.” And god wasn’t that the truth. This would hurt in the morning, and not in a physical sense. I knew this was a once in a lifetime thing between us.
Jameson started thrusting in and out of me again, his motions faster, harder as if he were losing control. “Come on, Lia. Give me another one. Let go for me again.”
His words were my undoing.
I felt myself falling over the edge once more, and climaxed long and hard, moaning softly as pleasure slammed into me. He kept up the thrusting until I sagged back on the bed, spent and exhausted, my body singing in pleasure.
The heavy weight of his muscles pressed to every single inch of me, having my pussy clench around him in need, causing my blood to catch on fire all over again. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, the sound of him inhaling deeply an auditory orgasm.
“Mine, Lia. God… so mine.” He ran his tongue up the side of my neck and I arched up against him, moaning at the feel, loving how he started moving once more, still so hard in me, not yet finished.
I was helpless to try and grasp what was happening, to comprehend what I was doing, what we were doing together. I was lightheaded from the way he made me feel, from the rush of the alcohol moving through my veins, from the fire surrounding us.