Authors: Elizabeth Finn
I knew this question would be coming soon enough, and I shake my head slowly, not wanting to upset her, but I can tell by the look on her face she’s hurt, not to mention embarrassed. She looks away quickly, not knowing what to say to save her dignity, and I jump in to reassure her. “You know I want to. I’d just like you to stay intact a while longer. It’s important to me.” Well, that was as close to the truth as I was willing to go with her at the moment. And right now, my need to please her body and assuage her feeling of rejection is overwhelming.
My mouth finds its way down to her breasts and her waiting, taut nipples. She instantly sighs in relief, and I instantly want more. She starts to arch her back into my mouth as her pleasure builds, and I run my hand down her perfect stomach and then further down to her wet center. I’m surprised when she suddenly stops me, especially given her recent propensity for sexual gratification. But she pulls my reluctant hand away from her body and draws my gaze up to hers.
“I want something else then.”
Apparently
Let’s Make a Deal
will be the game of the day. I hesitate. “What might that be?”
“I want to taste you. I want you in my mouth. Can we do
that
?” The insecure hopefulness in her voice is a turn on in and of itself. Never mind the image I’ve had in my mind for so long now of her kneeling in front of me sucking me deep into her mouth. Well, I certainly wouldn’t want to turn her down twice in a row. That would just be cruel. I nod before asking if she’s sure, which, of course, she replies she is. My morning just got 100 percent better. But then I notice the swollen, split lip, and I’m compelled to warn her. “You know this might just split your lip open again.”
Now it’s her turn, and she chuckles. “I’m willing to take my chances.”
“Well then, how would you like me, my dear? Here on the bed, lying down, sitting down, standing up? I’m at your command.” I toy with her.
She blushes furiously. “Lying down?”
I waste no time sprawling myself out on my back next to her in the middle of the bed. She rises hesitantly to her knees at my side while I look up laughing at her. She smiles shyly down at me before climbing between my spread legs. She looks nervous and excited all at the same time, and I can’t help but smile challengingly back at her.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Whatever you’d like.”
*
As I stare down at his thick, hard erection, I want to touch him but am almost too terrified to move. I want more than anything to put my mouth around him but am quite certain I’ll make a complete fool of myself. Logan watches me expectantly and patiently while I battle my self-consciousness. Finally, sensing my terror isn’t going to subside anytime soon, he rescues me. “Why don’t you start by touching me with your hand? We can just see where that goes. Okay?”
I nod stiffly, suddenly feeling more pathetic than I can handle. But I reach out to his waiting shaft and am relieved when he gasps at the first touch of my fingers. I remember the way I touched him the night before, so I start to stroke him. He continues to breathe deeply and study my movements. My own arousal is building with nothing more than the sound of his relaxed and contented breath.
I spend a short time just stroking him. “Do you want to taste me now?” I nod slowly. “You don’t have to take all of me in your mouth. Just kiss me and lick me with your tongue until you’re ready.”
My whole body is shaking when I lean down to his waiting cock. I slowly kiss my way along the shaft until I reach the tip. There, I lick around the head. Logan props himself up on the pillows and watches my every move. I continue to lick and kiss my way all around his throbbing penis, too nervous to look up at him. I reach out with my hand and cup his balls, letting them roll around in my palm. This incites another sharp inhalation of breath and with every sign of his pleasure, I relax more and more. When I finally look up at him, he is still studying me with an almost pained look on his face.
When I ask if I’m hurting him, his only response is, “God, no. Suck me. Please. Take me in your mouth.”
I lean back down and kiss the underside of his head just where the skin draws up in a peak one more time before sliding my lips over the head and down along the shaft. My bottom lip instantly sends splinters of pain through my lower mouth, but his sudden and uncontrolled moan of pleasure drives my pain out of my mind and pushes me further. I want nothing more than to make him come with my mouth. His moaning is all the approval I need to set my self-conscious fears aside. I start sucking and pulling him into my mouth as I slide down and back up along his cock. He continues to moan quietly and enticingly as my mouth is stretched to the limit. He reaches down and runs his hands through my hair.
He begs in a quiet, breathless voice, “Look at me.” I look up at his eyes to see his unrestrained expression staring back at me. “Oh God, Row.”
His panting is ragged and he’s getting very close to his breaking point. I continue to torture him with my mouth and reach my hand up to stroke his slippery, wet cock. The response I get to my hand touching him is his hand winding tighter in my hair as he cries out in ecstasy.
It doesn’t take long for him to warn me he’s going to come. I have no intention of stopping until he’s finished, and after the second warning, he gives up trying to be thoughtful and unleashes himself in my mouth. I feel the warmth of his semen filling my mouth, and my satisfaction at having fulfilled him is overwhelming. I swallow his cum, feeling the warm saltiness of him run down my throat as he looks down at me in repletion. My own contentment is overshadowed only by my need to be touched by him, and I start to move my way up his body.
Before long, I’m straddling his legs just below his hips and can feel the base of his still engorged penis between the cleft of my lips. My body wants him inside me, but the look of warning in his eyes is unmistakable. Warning or not, I slide the cleft of my lips up his shaft. The length of his cock provokes my swollen nub to an almost frenzy of pleasure, but he stays my hips with his hands before I can push my wet opening down over the head of his shaft. And with one simple word, he makes it very clear what we won’t be doing. “No.”
Instead, he reaches his hands up to my face and pulls me down to kiss him. He rolls me over onto my back. He doesn’t pull his body away from me, however. Instead, he pins my wrists above my head and starts his own torture by sliding his still swollen cock up my cleft and back down. My clit is on fire and sending shockwaves through my body. I arch my back and try desperately to line my waiting entry up to his still hard erection, but he keeps me restrained and pulls himself back from me when I get too close. He continues on mercilessly. He moves easily between my wet cleft, and my arousal begins to mount with every glide between my lips. Before long, my own panting and moaning have taken over the bedroom, and I’m nearing my own release. His rhythm is perfect and is pushing me gently to the brink. My release is powerful, and I cry out loudly before I can stop myself.
As Logan releases my wrists, he continues to move with my body, his own cock still subsiding, and finally, our bodies slow. He kisses me gently and touches the split in my lip that is now starting to pound from the stretching. While my orgasm was intense, I still feel the hollowness inside me where his body should have been. It was all I could do to handle two of his fingers the night before, and I still feel the soreness his fingers left even this morning. I can’t imagine how I could possibly take him pushing his full, thick length inside my body, but I know how much my body craves it from him all the same.
Chapter 12
So much for hard conversations about hard decisions. Instead, it was another delicious interlude of my hard cock and her incredibly soft body… And let’s not forget her absolutely amazing mouth. Not having sex has never been so much fun. It makes me wonder just how much I must be missing by not indulging in that one, last, forbidden act. But conversations must be had, and as much as I’d rather pull her back into my bed for more play time, this is a conversation best just dealt with.
She’s eyeing me over her coffee, likely wondering why I’m suddenly so quiet. And as I watch her in return, I’m forced to acknowledge the complete shift in our dynamic. This time yesterday, I wouldn’t have thought for a moment to kiss her, let alone touch her, taste her, and make her come. I’d have wanted to, but I wouldn’t have given in. In the space of twenty-four hours, I caved to every last restraint, bar one, that I’ve had. Her pain, her wounds, and my fear for her safety were my undoing. Seeing her hurt crumbled my resolve, and I wanted nothing more than for her to feel me—my desire for her, the pleasure I could give her, my obsession for her. And here we are, sitting across from one another, regarding each other in a completely new light. The shift alone is a turn on. Knowing I can kiss her, touch her, taste her sends a jolt of energy through my body, but whatever else is changing between us, the problem of her father is not changing, nor is it going away.
So I jump right in. “You can’t go back there … ever.” As she opens her mouth to speak, object, argue… who knows, I interrupt. “It isn’t going to happen. There is no purpose to any of this when you end up hurt. I absolutely can’t allow it to happen again. Row, I was terrified when I realized you were there alone with him. And I don’t mean to diminish the experience that you endured last night, but from my perspective, you can’t imagine what it was like seeing him kicking you and hurting you. There is nothing in this world that would give me reason to allow even the possibility of that happening again. So say what you have to say, but I won’t budge on this.”
She considers my words. “It’s not as if I don’t want to be here. I feel safe here with you, and I like being here…”
“Then it’s done. There’s nothing else to say about it.” I interrupt quite forcefully, only just realizing how anxious I have been about this conversation.
“I can’t simply move in here permanently. What would people say? How would you hide something like that from your family?”
“I don’t care about any of that!It’s my problem to figure out, not yours. I’m serious; you’re not going back there. The only options you have at this point are my reporting what happened last night, or you moving in here permanently so that there is no chance whatsoever of this happening again! I’m sorry if you don’t like the position you’re in, but I’m not taking any more chances!”
I’m sure I must sound shrill and panicked, but I can’t allow this conversation to get any further without the resolution I need. I’m pathetically desperate, and at the moment, not at all willing to look at the reasons for my desperation. But am I so desperate that I would actually report what happened last night, effectively damning myself and my career in the process? I have the somewhat despairing feeling I would, and I’m not prepared to deal with the why behind it either. She just has to agree.
Looking solemnly at me from across the table and obviously seeing the anxiety written on my face, she stands and approaches me. “Please, just let me think about it.”
I suppose it’s better than a refusal. Perhaps convincing her in a more unconventional way would better serve my agenda as well as my desires. I pull her gently down into my lap, the simple touch of our bodies releasing all of my pent-up anxiety. As I start to relax, my plan of attack starts to form in my mind. She studies me for a moment longer, concern written all over her face, and I take the opportunity to latch on to her mouth greedily and hungrily, our connection flooding through me like the strongest of aphrodisiacs.
It doesn’t take long for me to rearrange her body so she is straddling me. Once again, the warmth of her body is snug against my hardening cock. I pull her T-shirt over her head and see that her nipples are already taught and waiting for attention. I appease her needs and spend a ridiculously long time touching, licking, sucking, and nibbling at them as she looks on enthralled. I can feel the heat continue to rise between her legs. I lift her to the table in front of me, intent on fulfilling one of my most cherished fantasies of her on my kitchen table.
As I slide her underwear down over her hips and off her lean legs, I can see the now dark bruising on the backs of her thighs and a wretched flash of fury passes through my mind. I spread her legs open to me, seeing instantly how ready she is, and my anger abates in an instant as my hunger for her takes over. The slick, wet folds of her virgin pussy are begging to be touched and stroked, and I start devouring her instantly.
*
How can this man want me? The whirlwind of events since last night are spinning me in circles, and I can’t seem to wrap my brain around everything that has happened. After Logan consumed me again, I escaped to the bathroom to take a shower, and it is this smallest of emotional reprieves that has afforded me a short time to try to clear my brain. Honestly, I never expected such a reward for getting the shit kicked out of me. Gee, had I known that’s all a girl had to do to get a little attention…
Attention?
Attention is what you get for wearing a push up bra; this was more than attention. What the hell was this? Logan completely took me by surprise last night and every waking second since then. The strength of his body, the size of his erection, the incredible need between us both, watching him come and knowing it was because of me—because of my touch and nothing else. I just didn’t realize how strong desire could be. And it wasn’t just me! His desire was equally strong, or at least it sure seemed to me to be, but how?
Is it possible he could really be attracted to someone like me? I’m not beautiful, I’m not curvy, I’m not boobalicious, and I’m certainly not knowledgeable in any of the many ways that he’s toyed with me over the past twelve hours, but when he touches me and looks at me, I feel like I’m the beautiful one. But if he’s really attracted to me, why won’t he make love to me? That’s what I want from him more than anything. I want to give myself to him and for him to own that part of me. I want him to need me so much he can’t bear not to have me in the most intimate way possible. I want him that much. I just wish he wanted me the same way.