Authors: Lilli Feisty
“No, not yet.” He released her pussy and then brought the finger that he’d used to fuck her to her lips. He ran his fingertip
over her mouth, pushed inside, forced her to taste herself.
“I want you on your knees.”
Nodding, she sank before him. The concrete ground was hard through her jeans, hard on her knees, but she didn’t care; every
little discomfort only heightened the arousal coursing through her. It seemed the more disheveled she felt, the more Ash liked
it. And, bizarrely, the more confident she became.
She looked up, waiting. He took her head in his hands and stepped forward. Rubbing her face against his denim-clad erection,
she felt the abrasion of the fabric on her cheek and welcomed it.
“Feel that? Feel how fucking hard you make me?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice husky. She nuzzled him more, wanting to feel every inch of him.
He unbuttoned his jeans and tugged them and his boxers down his legs. “Open your mouth, Joy.”
She did, and he guided himself across her lips, taking his time as he rolled the head of his cock across her teeth, her tongue,
the roof of her mouth.
“Lick the head of my cock, Joy.”
Every word he uttered made her tremble, made her throbbing pussy wetter. Wanting to please him, she licked around his engorged
head, swallowing the drip of come that leaked out of the tip. When she swallowed, he jerked in her mouth so she did it again.
Lick, swallow, suck; she found a rhythm and he was moving, too, moving with her.
“Go on, Joy. I want you to take me as deep as you can.”
She glanced up, saw the sweat beading on his brow and the way his hair hung in his face. Despite his controlled words, his
face was tender; his eyes were dark and affectionate. Her heart swelled, and she took him deeper into her mouth, as deep as
she could, until she nearly gagged, but he held back with perfect timing.
His hands were on her head, holding her steady, pushing her to the very edge, like he knew exactly how deep she could take
him. “That’s right, Joy. Your mouth feels so fucking good. You take it so fucking deep.”
Her eyes were watering, but she didn’t care. Her pussy was aching, and she felt her own hips bucking, needing to feel something
between her legs, anything at all.
“I’m so close to coming, Joy. I want to come on you; I want to see it on your body.”
A shudder went through her at the thought, at the thought of him using her like that, and her sex clenched tightly, dripping.
He slowly pulled out of her mouth, and then she was looking up at him, her lips swollen and raw from sucking his cock.
Reaching low, he pushed her blouse and bra as far down as her shoulders and bound wrists allowed. Then he stood before her,
stroking himself, and she licked her lips, wanting to taste him again.
“Oh, Joy.” He pumped himself smoothly, his fist clenched so hard she could see every sinewy muscle in his arm. Her entire
body shook as she watched his cock, watched as he stroked himself, all the while staring at her. At some point, he’d removed
his shirt, and now she watched every inch of his taut body as his abdomen tensed, every solid muscle visibly clenching.
He ejaculated his hot liquid onto her naked skin. It hit her breasts, and she moaned aloud, clenching her legs to keep upright.
Her arms strained against the bindings as she continued to watch, felt it as semen continued to stream onto her body in smaller
and smaller drops, until her breasts were dripping with his warm come.
She knelt before him, tearstained and trembling with want, her chest covered with his come, her hands tied behind her back.
She wanted to be fucked more than she’d ever wanted to be fucked in her entire life. Wanted to be fucked by one man only,
the man standing before her.
Joy knelt before him, her shirt and bra pushed back, her jeans undone, her hair a mess and her breasts covered with his ejaculate,
her chest rising and falling with short, sharp breaths. Her eyes were wide and glossy. She’d submitted to him so fully, and
she hadn’t even known it.
His cock was already twitching for her again.
Wait.
He went to the sink and dampened a cloth with warm water. When he turned back to her, the muted illumination of the safelight
cast her in an amber glow, making her red hair stand out like wildfire. He was struck by her beauty and wondered how she could
ever doubt that about herself.
He kicked off his boots and jeans, and, kneeling across from her, he gently touched the damp cloth to her chest, cleaning
her skin. She trembled as he grazed the valley between her breasts, her chest, her nipples, which looked tight and hard. He
bent and took one in his mouth, sucked and bit. She just slightly sighed, but he felt it everywhere.
Gently, he leaned her back, laying her limp body on the floor. He kissed her lips, her throat, her breasts. Kissed the soft
mound of her belly and the sharp curve of her hip bone. He pulled off her shoes, jeans, and panties and spread her legs to
kneel between them. She watched him, her gaze roaming over his chest, his arms, his now-rigid cock.
Her arms were still tied behind her back, and she arched slightly against him. “I need you. Now.”
“I know. I need you, too.” Impatient, he rolled a condom onto his erection. He was already so hard for her; he wanted to bury
himself inside her again and again.
His eyes locked on hers as he slid into her pussy in one strong thrust, so deep it scooted her a few inches across the floor.
The floor was hard, and her arms were underneath her. Not exactly satin sheets, but he knew what she wanted; she wanted it
hard, raw. And he was more than ready to give her what she wanted.
She was so warm, so tight, and so his. He pumped again, and she cried out, bowing her neck as he lowered his head to kiss
her and then bit her skin lightly. She moaned, wrapping her legs around his hips.
“Yes… bite…”
He did. He moved to her breast and bit the soft flesh just above her nipple, biting as he fucked her, again and again, sliding
across the floor, wild.
“Yes! Just fuck me, Ash; fuck me so hard. Take me…”
“I will,” he said. “You’re mine to use right now, aren’t you?” He had no idea where the words were coming from, but he couldn’t
stop them. “Right this minute, you belong to me.”
She thrashed her head from side to side. “Yes. Yours. Use me, Ash.”
“I will.” He bit her nipple, his teeth clamping onto her as she bucked against him. “I am.”
He couldn’t stop himself, and she seemed to respond to his loss of control. For the first time he could ever remember, he
made love to a woman and didn’t worry about restraining his own pleasure. Because this was what turned Joy on, feeling him
fuck her. Use her.
She was beautiful beneath him.
“Joy, I want you to come. Now.” He bit, drove in deep, moved her body a few more inches across the floor. She screamed, and
he felt her clench around his cock, pulling another climax out of him. “Mine, Joy.” He heard the words coming from his own
mouth as he pumped his seed into her, couldn’t stop the words. “Right now, Joy. Mine. You’re fucking mine.”
J
oy was shaking.
Wearing one of Ash’s beat-up Navy sweatshirts and wrapped in a blanket, she sat on a stool at his sleek kitchen counter, her
limbs trembling. But, despite the rain hammering against the building, she wasn’t cold.
She didn’t know what the hell she was.
Mine, Joy. You’re fucking mine.
Surely those were words said during a moment of passion, yet she couldn’t get them out of her head; couldn’t get any of it
out of her head. Suddenly she realized that she’d made love to Ash three times in the last four days and barely knew anything
about him.
And he hadn’t asked much about her, either.
Maybe Erica was right. Maybe he did just want her for a booty call. Never mind if it was a damn good booty call, the best
she’d ever had, in fact.
After they’d caught their breath, he’d climbed off her, silent. He helped her upstairs, gave her his sweatshirt to wear. Waited
while she cleaned up. But since having sex they’d barely spoken. Now silence filled the air, heavy with awkwardness. She couldn’t
even fathom talking about the sculpture now.
“Maybe I should go,” she said.
“No.” He cleared his throat. “You want some tea? Coffee?”
“I’ll have some more of that Bushmills if you don’t mind.”
Grinning, he pulled two tumblers out of the cupboard this time. “Not at all. I think I’ll join you.”
He poured two neat glasses, slid one across the table, and lifted his, nodding once at her. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.” She gulped down half the contents, and this time when it hit her stomach, she felt it rumbling around. She realized
she was starving; she’d had a small salad for lunch and nothing since. Now, lunch seemed so very long ago.
But she was too embarrassed to say anything about being hungry; her grandmother had made sure she never felt comfortable eating
in front of a man. Erica and the gang were the only ones who really knew about Joy’s overzealous love of food. Her grandmother
had hammered the “eat like a lady” mantra into her for years.
At the moment, after what she’d just done with Ash, she felt very unladylike. And, she realized, she liked it.
“So,” Ash said, staring at her from the other side of the kitchen table.
“So.” She took another large swallow of whiskey and chased it with a deep breath. Fuck it. No time like the present. “So,
Ash. I have something I want to tell you.”
Leaning forward slightly, his green eyes nailed her with his sharp gaze. “That’s one of the things I like most about you,
Joy. Your honesty. You’re so open….” He shook his head. “You don’t know how rare that is.”
She laughed nervously and gulped down the rest of her whiskey. “Yeah. About that.”
Reaching across the table, he took her hand and rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. “What is it? You can trust me.”
But you can’t trust me.
“Um. Well. Can I have another shot, please?”
“Yeah. Sure.” Just as he stood, his phone rang. “Hello?” he said, cradling the receiver to his neck while he poured her some
whiskey. Whoever was on the line must have distracted him, because he poured the alcohol until she had to motion for him to
stop.
“Yeah,” he said, his brow creasing. When he was silent, the sound of rain pounded against the window in the quiet loft. “Right.
Okay, I’m leaving now. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Right. Bye.”
When he looked at her, his expression had changed completely. He was frowning, and his eyes were dark, shut down. “Listen,
I’m sorry, but I have to go. My family needs me. They live in Palo Alto.”
She looked down at her bare legs.
Booty call.
“Oh. Okay, right.” Erica was right. Joy tilted the glass to her lips and swallowed a deep gulp.
Mmm. She liked whiskey.
Glass in hand, she pushed herself out of the chair. “Right. I’ll just get dres-s-s-ed. And go.” She looked around the immaculate
loft. “Where are my bag? I mean, where
is
my bag and purse? Huh. That didn’t sound right, either.” The room tilted, and she reached for the chair to steady herself.
Ash ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck. You can’t drive. And I don’t want to take you home in the rain on my bike.”
“Bike?”
“My Ducati. My truck’s in the shop.”
“Palo Alto is a good thirty-minute freeway drive away. You can’t do that on a motorcycle, not in this downpour.” She turned,
splashing whiskey on the spotless floor. “I have a car. I’ll drive you.”
Ash gently removed the drink from her hand. “No way, baby. You’re not driving anywhere.”
“And I’m not letting you drive in this weather on your motorcycle.” As if to emphasize her point, lightning flared outside,
flashing through the loft in a bright blaze. A second or two later, thunder shook the walls and floor.
She shook her head. “No way, Jose.”
“Pardon me?” He looked incredulous that she was arguing with him.
“I’m huuungry.” She put her hand over her mouth. “Oops! I didn’t mean to say that.”
He immediately looked concerned. “When did you eat last?”
“Um, I had a salad for lunch. I’m on a diet.”
“For ’effen sake, and you just drank all that whiskey?”
“Maybe?”
He looked so distressed she held out a hand and put it on his shoulder. Surprisingly, he looked up and didn’t remove it. “Ash,
listen. I’ll go with you to your family’s. You can drive my car, and we’ll stop and grab some drive-through on the way, eat
in the car. It’s okay.”
He looked unsure. “You don’t understand. When my mom’s like this, it’s… not pretty.”
“I don’t mind.”
“And my sister…” He shook his head, and he looked so distraught she wanted to go with him, wanted to comfort him.
“Ash. Really, I can handle it. Let’s go.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.
She didn’t know what
this
was, but she wanted to do it. She nodded. “Yup, I’m sure.”
“Okay. But we’re going to In-N-Out on the way to Palo Alto. You’re eating before we do anything.”
She beamed at him. “That sounds wonderful. Do you think I can put on my pants first?”
As if he’d forgotten she wasn’t dressed, he glanced down in surprise. “Yeah. Pants, then cheeseburgers.”
“Ash?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re the best.”
Ash had no fucking idea what he was doing bringing Joy to his family’s place. He’d never brought a girl home, especially not
one he’d known for less than a week. Not that he was bringing her home per se; she was just helping him out. He never could
have made it to Palo Alto on his bike.
“It’s really pouring,” Joy said between bites of her Double-Double.
“I know. Storms came early this year. I had my truck in for a tune-up, thinking I had a few weeks of good weather left.”
“I love the rain.” She slurped deeply from her root beer. Ash loved that Joy ate like a woman and not a bird. So many of the
girls he’d been with ate nothing but rabbit food. Then again, he did tend to date model-types, so he supposed their rabbit-food
diet was to be expected. Joy wasn’t a model, but she became more and more beautiful to him each second he spent with her.