“Lagaña,” I say.
“Lagaña,” he repeats.
“Excellent pronunciation,” I say, a bit proud. “But next time, let’s teach you something more useful.”
“I don’t know. It would have been useful today,” he jokes, and I smack his arm as we turn onto my street.
Dawn breaks as we enter my apartment, and Rory stares into my living room with an expression not unlike Mandy’s when she first saw it. Here we go again, I think, but unlike Mandy, he doesn’t comment on how nice it is.
I’m locking the door when he comes up behind me. He wraps his arms around me, tucking his thumb under the hem of my blouse. It lingers there as he kisses my neck, his beard tickling a trail after his lips.
“Mmm, Valentina.” He groans into my ear, and my skin breaks into goosebumps, forcing my hand to move of its own accord. I take his hand currently over my lower midriff and help him into my legging’s waist-band. I turn to face him, and his lips crush mine once again like they had at the park. He’s about to tuck my pants off when I stop him. “Wait,” I say.
His hands break free of me, and he looks into my eyes. His brows knit together, and I see concern there. “No, that’s not what I—I still want to. We are going to. I just need a minute in the restroom. Freshen up and all that.”
“Oh, okay,” he says with a breathy voice.
“Make yourself at home. There’s a guest bathroom if you need it. First door on the left.” I smile and hasten to my bedroom.
I had to pee, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. Then I wince when I look in the mirror. Rory had picked out most of the grass but missed many still lingering in the depths of my thick hair. I finish the job, take off my ghastly makeup, and run a brush through my hair. I can’t waste time and shower, and I also don’t want him to feel bad that he hasn’t showered himself, so I run some water under my armpits and between my legs and hope that will do. I brush my teeth and use some hand lotion with a gentle flowery scent that will hopefully mask any odors from the night outdoors. I smirk, remembering our mishap last night.
I kick off my boots and find him in the living room.
“You took forever,” he says.
“I’m sorry. I’m all yours now.”
Chapter 5
I take my camisole off as I walk to him, and his eyes widen at my brazen exposure of my breasts. I’m about to start taking his shirt off when he grasps my wrists holding me in place. Crap. Did I miss my window? I’m suddenly vulnerable in my topless state. “What’s wrong?” I ask.
He cups the back of his neck in a gesture exactly like what he did at the bar when his buddies were giving him a hard time about leaving with a woman.
“Rory?” I ask in as soothing a tone as I’m capable of. My arms wrap in front of my chest so I can cover my nipples. “Do you want to keep your shirt on? It’s okay if you do.” I might cry, I think, but don’t share that last bit. I also can’t imagine what he would be self-conscious about. I had felt the hard muscles of his abdomen through his shirt several times already.
Rory shifts his weight from one leg to the other, and his eyes can’t meet mine. “No. It’s okay. I just need to prepare you . . .” He trails off. Whatever he needs to prepare me for is difficult for him to say.
“What for?”
“I’ll tell you about it later. Don’t ask the story behind what you’re about to see right now. Okay?”
“You’re scaring me a little, Rory.”
He chuckles, but it’s nervous. “It’s nothing bad. I promise.”
“Okay?”
“I have a scar.”
I laugh. “I don’t have any problems with scars.” I drop my arms, exposing my naked breasts again.
“It’s pretty big.”
I purse my lips because now I’m concerned about why he has this scar, but he asked me not to ask questions, and I intend to make him comfortable too. My eyes freeze over his chest for a second before I look at him again. His beautiful green eyes are frozen to the carpet.
“You never asked me what kind of athlete I am,” I say.
His head snaps up, and he is looking into my eyes again, a question in his.
“Ask me what I do.”
“Um, okay . . . what do you do, Valentina?”
“I’m a mixed martial arts fighter.”
“Oh.” He looks confused, and I know he doesn’t understand where I’m going with this.
“Fighters tend to find scars sexy as fuck,” I explain, and I know he can see the hunger in my gaze. I lick my lips in a blatant display of desire. He charges for me and picks me up in his arms like newlyweds in all the romantic comedies my sister likes to watch. I squeal as he lifts me. “Rory!”
He takes me to my bedroom and tosses me onto the bed somewhat forcefully. “You’re fucking perfect,” he declares. I sit up and then kneel on the bed so I can help him out of his clothes, finally.
I race to take his shirt off and lean back to admire his body. A shirtless Rory still in his jeans is a sight to behold. His fair torso is slim but well-defined. You wouldn’t think it to look at him with clothes on, but this man has a six-pack with a trail of reddish hair leading to his waistband over the ripples of his muscles.
His chest hair in matching red covers a lengthy scar that starts at the top of his chest and spans down the length of his sternum. I know his chest has been cracked open, but no questions right now. I raise my hands to his chest, hovering over the scar, and search his eyes. He nods, giving me permission to touch, so I trace the scar from top to bottom. And in a move I have no idea where it came from, I dip my head to lick the length of it. His grip tightens a bit around my shoulders, but he doesn’t push me away.
I reach to touch the muscles of his six-pack, and he stills but lets me explore where I want. I follow the trail of my hands with my mouth as I kiss and lick the granite muscles leading up to his scar. When I get to it, I lick it all the way to its start. I find his neck and nibble at it while my hands work his jeans open.
Underneath, I find boxer briefs with that mushroom tip poking out of the waistband. I lift the glistening droplet of his precum with my index finger and bring it to my mouth. I look him in the eye as I lick my finger and revel in the taste of him. The saltiness of it sends a shiver down my spine my eyes close with pleasure. I open them again to find a stunned Rory gaping at me. He shakes his head to snap out of it and hurries out of his underwear.
His cock springs forward, and my eyes widen. I gulp. I’m not sure I’ll be able to fit him in. His length is intimidating, but my mouth waters all the same. “It’s so . . .” I trail off.
“So what?” he asks.
“So pink.”
He smiles sexily and peels off my leggings and underwear next, then steps back to ogle me as I had him. Fair is fair. His jaw tightens, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. With that look of hunger on his face, I’m not the slightest bit self-conscious. Being naked in front of Rory is nothing but freedom and delight.
He leans over me and finds my mouth. This is our first kiss without the morning breath, and it is glorious. I purr into his mouth, and he matches it with a deep groan that has my legs locking around him.
His hand draws down so he can play with the folds of my entrance. I shamelessly grind against the feel of his hand, finding his rhythm. His thumb presses my clit while he dips a finger in me. He doesn’t stop kissing me, though, and it’s hard to stay put and not roll my head back at all the sensations he evokes.
When he sinks a second and then a third finger inside to stretch me, I can’t contain it any longer. I pull away from his mouth and scream his name.
“Does that feel good?” he asks in that husky voice of his.
“Yes!” I scream and clench around his fingers. His fingers respond by curling upward. “So good. Oh, Rory! Don’t stop!”
He brings his mouth to my nipple and circles his tongue gently around it, sending me over the edge. I’m moaning and writhing under his touch as my orgasm hits, and he
isn’t even inside me yet. Rory is a selfless lover. I’m so smart for picking him out of everyone in the bar.
His fingers withdraw from me, and he gives my nipple a peck with his lips. “Condoms?” he asks.
“Nightstand. I’ll get them.”
He pulls away from me, and I rummage through the drawer and sit up so I can put it on him. His abdominal muscles clench as I roll the condom down his length.
He grabs a handful of my ass as he groans. “I love this ass,” he says.
I raise an eyebrow. “Is that right, Rory Dennis?” I ask. He nods, and I reward him by facing away from him and scooting back to offer him a better view of it. After years of working my body into a machine, I am very proud of all my muscles—ass included. If one more person gets to admire it, who am I to argue?
The bed moves as Rory stands, and I scoot further back until my entrance feels the tip of his cock. I grind against him, begging for him to enter me. I am so wet from my first orgasm and so glad he took that care given his size. Both his hands wrap around my waist to hold me in place as he starts to slowly slide in. His fingers were blissful, but this, nothing could compare to the stretch of me with him inside.
“Valentina, fuck,” he gurgles out, and I reward the sounds by rocking back and forth to match his gentle stroke. He stops moving for a long moment, giving me time to adjust to his size. I grab a pillow so I can rest my chest to the bed, and my ass raises higher. I want him to enjoy this view almost as much as I want to chase my next orgasm with him inside me.
He plunges into me and freezes deep inside. I clench experimentally around him, and he growls before he starts pounding into me. The grip he has on my waist tightens, his fingers digging into my skin, but the pain mixes with the pleasure, and I can’t tell him to stop. I can only ask him to keep going. “Yes, Rory! Yes! Right there!”
Rory is listening because next follow a series of pumps so forceful, he is slowly scooting me further up the bed. I bite into the pillow under me as I let out a scream that gets muffled. My orgasm comes in waves this time, and he keeps driving into me, rolling me into a second climax and then a third. My legs start to shake when he sinks into me as his body clenches with his own release. I’m now regretting this position because I can’t see him as he climaxes. I pant into the pillow and come up for air.
Rory kisses my back gently and withdraws from me. He steps into the restroom, probably to toss the condom before he comes back to bed and lies next to me. I curl to his side like I had done last night. “No falling asleep this time,” I joke.
He laughs. “No falling asleep. Though, I don’t think I could even if I wanted to. I feel well-rested.”
“Oh really?” I wiggle my eyebrows at him.
“Are you trying to kill me, woman?” He chuckles. “I at least need sustenance, then maybe after that, and a bit of a rest, I will make you come five more times.”
My thighs tighten at his words. His lips lock with mine again, but this time it’s sweeter and with less urgency. “I’m going to hold you to that,” I joke.
“First, I must get food.”
“I have food, but you’ll be sorry if I cook. Would you like to go out?”
“No. I prefer to spend the morning with you naked. I’ll cook.”
“You can cook?” I ask with surprise.
“I know my way a bit around the kitchen.”
“Would you cook naked?” I ask.
He chuckles. “Can I at least wear my boxer-briefs? A naked cooking incident wouldn’t be pretty.”
“Fine,” I say with resignation.
“You, on the other hand, I insist you remain naked while you watch me cook.”
“I can manage that.”
We get up and make our way to the kitchen. Rory leans toward the fridge and scratches his jaw through his beard. “You don’t have much,” he says. “But I think I can whip up some egg sandwiches. How does that sound?”
“Great,” I say. And it does. I’m starting to love real bread with actual gluten. I don’t know how I’ll ever go back to my pre-cancer diet. I purse my lips because this is the first time I’ve caught myself making plans for the future, and I have the sickening sensation in my stomach that this new outlook has everything to do with the redhead with the broken sternum.
Which reminds me of his scar. Is it okay to ask now? I understood he didn’t want to say before. I thought maybe he didn’t want to ruin the moment, but when would it be okay to ask?
He’s a one-night-stand, so maybe it’s better to not ask at all. Don’t get personal, Valentina. This is just for today.
Rory places several items from the fridge on the counter, and I watch him from my spot at the bar. I’m sitting with my arms propped on the bar top so he can have a view of my breasts as he works. My breasts swell over my forearms, and I smile at him.
He looks up at me, and the corner of his mouth quirks up into a sexy smile. “Fuck breakfast. I’m eating you instead,” he says and walks around the bar to me. He takes me by surprise and lifts me to reposition me on the barstool, so I face away from the counter. Kneeling, his face is at the level of my sex. My entire body blushes, and I almost want to close my legs. What the hell? I’m not shy.
“No.” He grabs my knees and pushes them wide to expose me fully to his face. “Don’t close your legs.” He slides his fingers down the length of my folds. “You’re beautiful,” he says in a husky voice. I found Rory’s deep voice sexy to begin with, but when it deepens further with his arousal, that sexiness reaches an entirely different level.
My chest expands with each labored breath, and I nod. He plays with the black curls of my pubic hair and presses a finger to my clit, sending my head back with pleasure. I’m so sensitive from our time together in bed, and the sensation is so extreme, my face twists into a grimace he can’t see. I feel his tongue on me next, and my head snaps down to look at him. His tongue is circling my clit, but not touching it in a teasing motion. His head moves between my legs as he teases at my entrance with his tongue, and the view of his red mane between my legs is the most erotic thing I have ever seen in my life.
My fingers find their way to his hair and tug on it lightly. I keep his head in place where I want him, and a moan escapes him. “Rory,” I purr his name. “That feels amazing.” He rewards my praise by pressing his tongue to my swollen clit, and my legs start to quiver. His hands are keeping my legs apart, his grip tightening over my inner thighs. I’m so sensitive, that familiar coil starts building in my core almost instantly. His lips enclose around my clit so he can suck on it gently, and I can’t take it anymore. My hands fist his hair, and my abdomen convulses as I climax onto his tongue. He doesn’t stop, and the orgasm keeps going. I had no idea an orgasm could stretch out that long. Rory Dennis has a magic tongue.
I can’t take the maddening ongoing release anymore, and I start to beg. “Rory, please, Rory, stop!”
He encircles his tongue around my clit one last time and finally comes up for air. My legs shake as he trails kisses up my lower abdomen, licks a circle around my belly button, and trails his tongue to my neck. He stops to nibble at my jaw and finishes with a sensual kiss that lets me taste myself on his lips. He parts from my mouth to study my face, and his smirk is cocky, like he is so damn proud of himself.
“That was yummy,” I say, coming down from my fuck-drunk state.
“Indeed.” Rory chuckles.
I look down, and he is starting to harden again, though he isn’t at his full size yet. I reach for the waistband of his boxer-briefs, but he grabs my wrist with a shake of his head. “No. That was just for you.”
“Rory—” I protest because I want my turn, but he kisses me into silence.
“One down,” he says when his mouth leaves mine.
“What?”
“I told you I was going to make you come five more times before I leave today. Four more to go.”
I blink slowly at him. This man can’t be serious. I don’t know if I can handle four more.
; “I’m a man of my word, Valentina. You’ll see.” He pulls away from me and goes back to his work in the kitchen.
I blink after him, too stunned for words. It was odd how this day started, with him shy about his chest, but the moment I licked his scar, Rory came out of his shell. I smile at him, glad he could open up to me, even if only sexually.
I go to the restroom to clean up a bit, and when I get back, he winks at me, starts chopping onions, and tosses them into butter on a hot pan. He moves quickly, like he knows this kitchen. Before I know it, the smell of butter and eggs has my stomach grumbling.
“Here.” He places the egg sandwich in front of me before coming around the counter to sit next to me.
“Thanks,” I say, and we both dig in. “This is great,” I offer after the first bite. He smiles and keeps chewing but squeezes my thigh.
“Valentina, how do you say ‘sandwich’ in Spanish?” he asks between bites.
I laugh. “How do you say ‘taco’ in English?”
Rory turns to me slowly, a large bite bulging his right cheek, and he blinks. He starts laughing and trying to swallow at the same time, which makes him cough. He takes a sip of water, and when he successfully swallows, he faces me again. “I don’t think our Spanish lessons are going very well so far. Maybe I should give up?”
I laugh. “No, don’t give up. Spanish is a beautiful language. And in your defense, there is a word for sandwich, but it’s not really used. A lot of people wouldn’t even know what it is. At least in Mexico.”
“So you just call it sandwich, then?”
I nod. “But you have to pronounce it in Spanish.”
Rory scratches his head. “What do you mean?”
“You say it like, ‘sanguish’ with a soft ‘g.’”
“That’s weird.”
“Or brilliant,” I counter.
When we finish eating, I wrinkle my nose. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I can smell myself. I need a shower bad. You want to join me?”
“It would be an honor to shower with you.” He stands and offers me his hand as he bows. His wavy bed-head is adorable, and even his beard is a bit messed up from our intense fucking. I smile and take his hand.
Contusion Page 5