by Selena Kitt
I wasn’t lying. The slow build of the energy we’d been passing back and forth all night, like the joint we’d smoked together, had finally culminated here. I was his instrument, owned, played, completely his, and I did exactly what he wanted, when he wanted. My climax shook us both as I shuddered in his arms, thousands of delicious ripples of pleasure rocking out from my core. Tyler didn’t let me go. In fact, he held me closer, paying attention to every breath, shiver and cry, easing off slowly as I began to come down from those dizzying heights.
“That’s my Katie girl,” he whispered, rubbing his stubble over my breast, prickly and delicious. Hearing him say my name like that, calling me his, was intoxicating. He lifted his fingers to his mouth and sucked them. “Let’s see if you can do that again.”
Oh God.
It turned out I could. And it seemed that Tyler was even more skilled with his mouth than he was with his hands if that was even possible. I came three more times for him like that, once on my back with his fingers curling inside of me like he was asking for more, and twice after he rolled me onto him and made me straddle his face. At least in that position I could reach that glorious cock of his, which was just as big and beautiful as it had felt through his jeans.
After my third climax, I was begging him to stop, his wet cockhead resting against my cheek as I panted and writhed on him. His hands gripped my ass, arms encircling my hips. There was no escape, and I knew it. I belonged to this man, body and soul.
“Just getting started,” he growled as he raked that stubble against the sensitive flesh of my inner thighs.
He flipped me over onto my back again, kneeling up between my legs. His cock stood straight out, still wet with my saliva and leaking pre-cum. I reached for it—I couldn’t seem to keep my hands off it—rubbing my thumb over the tip, spreading all that sticky sweetness. His face was wet with me too, and he leaned over to kiss me. I tasted alcohol and weed and me. I sucked on his tongue, and that made him moan and thrust in my hand.
I aimed him, forgetting everything completely, and would have had him inside me, fucking me, without a second thought—or a condom—but Tyler remembered. There were condoms lined up on the ledge above our heads, the one overlooking the window, and he grabbed one, tearing it open with his teeth. I watched him ease it over the head and then I did the rest, sliding it down and unrolling it with the motion of my hand from tip to base.
“Put me inside you,” he breathed into my ear, bent over me now, poised, ready.
I wanted it as much as he did. I slipped the head of his cock into me, and he did the rest, sinking slowly into my flesh until our bodies met, joined together. I whimpered and wrapped my arms around him, my legs too, as he started to move. I was used to condoms—Alex had insisted on them, even though I was on the pill and had been since my first pregnancy scare at fifteen—but I wished, for the first time ever maybe, that I could feel Tyler without that barrier. But even I knew that wasn’t a smart idea, even if it created some sort of primal, aching desire in me.
“Oh, fuck, Katie, you feel so good,” he murmured, hips moving, nice and slow, taking it easy on me. My pussy felt fat and swollen from all my orgasms, more than wet enough to accommodate his considerable length—and girth—although it was still a tight fit. The feeling was incredible, as if I was being completely filled, from the inside out. Tyler’s hands and mouth were unbelievably skilled, but the rhythm and motion of his hips were unparalleled. I’d never experienced anything like it, and it was driving me wild.
“Tyler,” I whispered his name, digging my heels into him as he rutted between my thighs. “Oh yes, Tyler, fuck me, fuck me.”
“I told you,” he breathed against the hot flesh of my neck. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you forget your own name.”
Turned out, he wasn’t kidding, nor was he boasting. The man could fuck forever, and I’m quite sure we did. I lost count of my climaxes, the little shaking tremors and the mind-blowing, earth-shattering ones. Just when I thought he might reach his peak and finally come for me, he’d pull back, breath coming hard and fast, cock throbbing like a goddamned python between my legs, and then we’d go at it again. Again. Again. I stopped begging him for more, begging him to stop, begging him at all, because there was no sense, no point, no direction, no longer an up, down, or sideways. I was completely lost and found with him. There was nothing except the present moment, his breath, my heartbeat, the way we rocked together in the dark.
He was pounding me from behind when he told me when and where he was going to christen me with his cum, and I knew I would accept it like a woman on her knees taking communion. In fact, just the words, just the telling, made me climax.
“I want to come in your mouth,” he grunted into my ear, rutting into me from behind, my pussy taking him again and again, such sweet punishment. “I want you to swallow all my cum, Katie. That sweet fucking mouth of yours.”
“Yes!” I cried, feeling the zing of his words all through my body, my pussy beginning to spasm with release. “Oh fuck, yes, I want all your cum, baby!”
I was coming just at the thought, my slick wetness pulling at his length, as if I could keep him inside of me forever, and I wanted to. I cried out and arched back, grinding myself into the saddle of his hips like crazy, hearing him moan and grab onto my ass, holding me there. His cock was thick and throbbing, and I wondered for a moment if I’d sent him over the edge with my orgasm, hearing a low, pained groan rip from his throat.
But no. Tyler turned me over and planted a long, torturous kiss between my legs, sucking deeply on my aching clit, before he snapped off the condom he was wearing, tossing it aside.
“Get on your knees. On the floor.”
I did just what he wanted, looking up at his cock like it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. And it was. He pumped it slowly in his hand, his gaze on mine as he stood above me.
“Spit on it, baby.”
I did that too, rubbing my saliva all over the head.
“Put your fingers in your pussy.”
And that. Fuck, I was soaking wet, my pussy more swollen than it had ever been.
“Rub your juices all over my cock and lick them off.”
My fingers were sticky with my girl cum, and I rubbed it up and down his length with my fist, hearing him moan, watching his head go back, feeling his hands moving through my hair, guiding my mouth. I slipped his cock between my lips, tasting myself, not able to take it all—that was just not humanly possible, I didn’t think even the most skilled porn star in the world could have taken that much pipe—but I felt him bump against the back of my throat. I gagged a little, but that was okay. He smiled, that quirky little smirk, and eased back a little.
“Good girl,” he urged, starting to fuck my mouth. “Oh, good girl, Katie. Take it. Suck it.”
I did, I did. I used my hand, wrapped around the base, to keep from gagging too much again, although it wasn’t easy still, trying to fit him all in my mouth. I found an easy rhythm, up and down, the persistent throb of him against my tongue a glorious tease. He was holding back, I could tell, making me work for it, wanting it to last. He wanted to come, but he didn’t. I knew that feeling.
“Look at me,” I gasped, taking him from my mouth so I could say the words, hearing him groan. “I want to see your eyes when you come.”
Tyler didn’t say anything, but he did as I asked, opening his eyes and meeting mine as I took him between my lips again. I knew I was a mess—sweaty, hot, hair mussed, make-up smeared, ridden hard and long—but he told me I was beautiful, just with his eyes. We looked at each other and were transported together somewhere else entirely, where only we existed together, one heartbeat, one voice, one entity joined and meant to be, forever.
“I’m gonna come for you.” He whispered these words, cupping my chin, looking deep into my eyes. And he never stopped looking, even as he gave a low moan and began to shudder, flooding my mouth with his cum. It came in white hot spurts, again, again, like it would never end, and w
ith each sweet flood, he would give a little cry and thrust his hips slightly, but his gaze never wavered.
I knew it was a gift he was giving me, and I let him fill my mouth, seeing something in his eyes I’d never seen before and knew I’d never see again. It was the sweetest, most intimate moment of my life up until then, as drunk and high and fucked up as I was. In that moment, we were both completely sober, completely bereft of barrier or inhibition. He was mine then, and we both knew it.
I swallowed all his cum in one gulp and licked the head of his cock, searching for more, as if by swallowing him, I could keep him, and there was nothing more I wanted than that. Tyler sank slowly to his knees and kissed me roughly, gathering me up in his arms like he wanted to keep me too. It was hot and sweet at the same time, and I was filled with a longing I didn’t even quite understand.
“You tired?” he asked, cupping my face and searching my eyes.
I laughed. Tired? I was so high I was barely conscious, and I felt like I’d been riding a horse for three days straight while simultaneously lifting weights, but I’d never been more exhilarated in my life.
“Jesus, I want to fuck you some more.” He grabbed my ass and pulled me into his lap, so I was straddling him. It was my turn to cup his face and kiss him, licking the corners of those soft, full, smirky lips before plunging my tongue into his mouth. I was rewarded by feeling his cock stir, still sticky with his cum and my saliva, pressed up against his belly, trapped between us.
“I don’t have to be anywhere tomorrow.” Tyler tilted his head back to look at me when we parted. “It’s like a fucking miracle. Will you spend the day with me?”
He sounded for all the world like a middle schooler asking a girl out to a dance for the first time, not quite sure of the outcome. Was he kidding? Did he really have no idea how much women wanted him? My heart just swelled at his words and I nodded, not trusting my voice. Spend the day with Tyler Cook? Oh gee, torture me some more, why don’t you?
“Good.” He gave a satisfied nod. “Come on, let’s get in bed, it’s freezing in here.”
“You’re just sweaty.” I ran my hands over his shoulders and chest. He was sheened with sweat after working so hard and it reminded me of what he looked like up there on stage holding his guitar. “Let’s get under the covers.”
Tyler grabbed me again as I stood, hand on my hips, and rubbed his face against my sex, now at his eye-level. I gasped and steadied myself, holding onto his shoulders, moaning when his tongue plunged in to taste me.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he murmured, his stubble prickly over my bare mound as he nuzzled his cheek there.
I knew just how he felt.
The room smelled like sex, mixed with the sweet scent of weed as we climbed into bed together, pulling the covers up to our chins and snuggling close. Tyler switched out the light, so we were in darkness, except for the lights of the city below reflected through the window above our heads. It gave a sort of eerie, surreal glow to the room.
“How do you open gifts on Christmas morning?” Tyler asked, his hand on my hip, pulling us belly to sweaty belly.
“What?” I laughed, shaking my head.
“How do you open gifts on Christmas morning?” Tyler repeated. He was tracing something on my skin again, like he was trying to leave his mark, a permanent autograph. “Do you tear them open as fast as you can? Do you wait until the last minute? Are you a peeker? Do you go hunting for your gifts?”
“Well...” I contemplated this strange question, trying to remember Christmas mornings. “I guess I’m a peeker. I always tried to find my presents to see what I was getting before Christmas morning. And if I couldn’t find them—my mom got better at hiding them over the years—I was so excited on Christmas morning, I tore them open right away.”
“I knew it.” Tyler’s grin flashed in the darkness.
“How about you?”
“I’m an edger.” He nuzzled my neck, breathing me in. “Slow, slow, slow. I love the anticipation. Waiting for it. The discovery, not knowing yet what’s inside.”
“Oh,” was all I could say as he kissed my collarbone, lips trailing over my shoulder, wondering if he was still talking about Christmas presents.
“So, who was this guy and why are you still wearing his ring?” Tyler linked his hand with mine, holding it up and studying my engagement ring in the dimness.
“Mr. Responsible?”
“That was obviously not his real name.” He was an expert at raising just one eyebrow, cocking his head and smirking like he knew exactly what I was thinking.
“Ya think?” I looked at my ring too in the faint light, wondering how to answer his question—the former, not the latter. “Alex was my boss.”
“So you said. But what about Alex got him a girl like Katie?” Now he looked quizzical, like he actually couldn’t quite believe it. Not that I blamed him, but it was the other way around. Everyone wondered how Katie managed to snag herself a guy like Alex. She was still wondering that herself, and she didn’t even have him anymore.
“His nickname,” I said simply.
“Mr. Responsible?”
“I was going through a phase.” Tyler pulled my hand close and kissed the inside of my wrist. His stubble tickled and scratched and made me feel warm all over inside. “Trying to be a good girl. Do the right thing. Ever have one of those?”
“About once a year.” He snorted a laugh.
“He was crazy about me. At first.”
“You’re pretty easy to be crazy about.”
“Yeah, at first.” I gave my own snort-laugh. “Anyway, we started dating. I brought him to my mother’s for Thanksgiving dinner.”
“Oh, a meet and greet at the parents.” He let go of my hand and put it on my hip, sliding me closer, so we were pressed belly to belly.
“Well, parent. Singular. He didn’t ever meet my father.” Meeting my father would have been impossible. He was two thousand miles away. He hated my mother and the feeling was mutual. If they could have lived on separate planets, they would have, and that still wouldn’t have been enough time and space between them. “Anyway, she liked him so much, and everyone was so happy that, you know, Katie was finally getting her life together...”
“You seem pretty together to me.”
“Do I?” I smiled. “See, we’re in that ‘at-first’ stage. Just wait.”
“Are you homeless?”
“No.” Not yet.
“A criminal?”
“No.” Unless you counted skimming the top off Slurpees at 7-11 before refilling them.
“Are you now or have you ever been a bad person? I mean, you know, stealing old ladies’ pensions or organizing dog fights bad?”
“No.”
“Then I think it’s pretty safe to say, Katie… whoa.” He stopped, blinking at me. “This is the worst cliché in the world but what in the hell is your last name?”
“Katie Monroe,” I told him. “Katie Scarlett Monroe. And yes, my mother had a thing for Rhett Butler in Gone with the Wind. She gave me and my brother Gone with the Wind names, much to my father’s dismay.”
“Your brother’s name is Rhett?”
“His middle name,” I replied. “Try going through the world with the name Aaron Rhett.”
“Aaron’s not bad.” He snickered. “Still, I think it’s safe to say that Katie Scarlett Monroe’s got her life together already.”
“Tell that to my mother.” I sighed. “She was so thrilled that I found someone who could take care of me for the rest of my life.”
“As she should be.” He laughed at the dark look I gave him. “Not because you need it, but because you deserve it. So, let me guess, he popped the question and you said yes because you thought that would make Mommy happy.”
“It made everyone happy.” I rolled my eyes. “Deliriously happy.”
“Everyone except you.” He traced something on my hip, some pattern, with his finger, as he talked. “But did you love him?”
“I d
on’t know.” That was the honest truth, and it was the first time I’d said it out loud to anyone—I’d never even admitted that to Sabrina. “I liked him. He was a great guy. Everyone said so.”
“Well that’s a no.” Tyler sounded quite satisfied with himself.
“How can you tell?” Even I didn’t really know. I thought I was in love with him. He was smart, funny, charming, sweet. He was stable, responsible, unwavering. What more could you want in a guy, really? I’d mistaken that sort of sinking feeling I got whenever he called or, especially, when he got down onto one knee at the Olive Garden, for love. I’d since realized that what I was really feeling was dread.
“I just can.” He stopped tracing on my hip and caught my left hand again, pulling it closer. “So why the ring?”
“I told you, it keeps the creepers away.”
“Liar.” He leaned over and kissed the tip of my nose. “You said no lying. Ha, you said no lying in bed. Get it? You’re a lying liar.”
“Yeah, very punny.” I couldn’t help laughing a little though.
“So, what’s the truth?” he pressed. “Why are you still wearing this rock on your hand?”
“Okay fine...” I studied it, frowning. I hated the thing, to be honest. It caught on every sweater I owned and pulled the threads out. It was slightly too big, and I’d nearly lost it several times. Once it fell down the garbage disposal and I thought about leaving it there. But I didn’t. “The truth is, I had to keep wearing it. Because I didn’t tell anyone.”
“You didn’t tell anyone what?”
“I didn’t tell them I was unengaged,” I replied. “Or fired.”
“Wow.” He nodded, taking in this information. Now, I thought, is when he realizes Katie really is a bad person. Katie doesn’t have her life, or anything else for that matter, together. Never has and never will. Most guys came to this conclusion pretty quickly. Sabrina said I was a guy magnet, and while it was true the bees liked to buzz around at first, once they’d had a taste, they flew far away and never came back again. I guess I wasn’t as sweet as they thought to begin with.
“I just got the nerve up to tell Sabrina tonight,” I admitted, shame-faced.