Blitz (Emerald City/Black Family Saga Book 1) (27 page)

“What kind of guy are you?” My eyelids droop when his fingers stroke my scalp.
 

“The kind who comes back for more.”

I giggle. “That sounds kind of kinky.”

“All I mean is, I don’t want tonight to be a one off. And the way I feel about you, it probably won’t be. If you’re okay with that.”

I nod. I’m way more than okay with that.
 

We fall into each other again, without another word, but he doesn’t kiss me right away. He holds my face very close to his. It’s almost like we share a single breath. Then he teases me, leaning closer and closer until our lips almost touch, his eyes still on mine.
 

Ray brushes his lips against mine and I close my eyes.

“I can’t believe I’m touching you like this,” he says.

Either can I. He’s teasing me. All I want is to feel his skin on mine, but it’s like all he wants is to study me. To memorize every inch.
 

I reach down and tug on his belt, releasing the buckle from its clasp. He doesn’t protest, so I pull at the hem of his shirt until he helps me slip it over his head. Then I allow my hands to stray, to explore him.

I can feel my heart beating in my head as my fingers graze the curve of his shoulders. They’re firm, the skin tight and smooth. I lift my head to kiss his left collarbone, and he lets out a sharp breath with every one of my touches.
 

I pull off my own shirt and stretch my arms around my back, desperate to unhook my bra, but he stops me.
 

Ray sits up, taking me with him until we’re facing each other. He runs both hands through my hair and drapes it over one shoulder. Then he pulls my bra straps down, tracing his thumbs over my collarbone. As he leans forward, I lean my head back and his breath warms my neck, sending shivers through me.
 

I reach back and unhook my bra allowing it to fall away. Ray stops kissing my neck and when I look up again he’s staring at me. I should feel self-conscious—want to grab one of the pillows and cover myself, but I don’t. I don’t mind his scrutiny at all. In fact, all I want is for him to get on with it. Stop staring at me and start touching me again.
 

“You’re beautiful,” he says.
 

I smile and whisper, “I’d believe you more if your hands were on me.”

Ray grins and reaches forward, lightly running his fingers tips over my right nipple. “Like that?” he asks.

I swallow hard, my throat prickling, then nod.
 

“And this?” he asks, bringing his right hand up to brush the other side.
 

I pull a deep breath into my nose, lick my lips and nod again.
 

“What about this?” he asks, squeezing both of my breasts lightly.
 

“Mm hmm,” I get up on my knees and inch closer, but he pulls away.
 

“Not yet,” he says. “I want…lie down, please.”

He guides my head to the pillow and I lie back, staring up at him as he hovers over me. He kisses my forehead, my nose and lingers at my mouth. As his tongue teases mine, I reach my arms up to touch him, but he stops me, pinning them by my wrists on either side of my head.
 

I squirm, but he continues to hold me down, so I let him.
 

Ray’s head moves toward my chest and when the warmth of his tongue travels across my hard nipples I let out a little moan and it’s echoed by one of his own. He pulls my nipple into his mouth sucking lightly. My back arches and he sucks harder. I try to break free, to throw my arms around him, but he won’t allow it. So I satisfy the urge, by wrapping my legs at his waist.
 

Ray links my fingers with his and trails his tongue across my chest bone to my other breast. My panties are already soaking wet. So much that it embarrasses me. It can’t be normal to be this turned on by the little that he’s doing. Although the little feels like a hell of a lot more. What is he going to think when he sees the mess he’s made?

“Ray,” I whisper.
 

He takes that as a cue to find my lips again and kisses me harder this time. Sucking on my bottom lip, my tongue, making me forget why I called his name in the first place.
 

He lets go of my hands and they find their rightful place, feathering their way through his hair and gliding down his back.
 

“You taste so good,” he moans, his face buried in my neck now. “I want you so bad, Syd.”

His fingers fumble with my waistband and I reach down to help him, yanking them over my hips. Ray pulls away, leaving me awkward and cold. He stands up and carefully peels my yoga pants from my legs, tossing them behind him. In that moment, I remember my slippery underwear and sit up, inching toward the edge of the mattress.
 

I reach up to help Ray with his own pants and he smiles down at me.

“Anxious?”

I nod and feign a devilish grin. As he steps out of his pants, I slip out of my panties and toss them to the side. With Ray standing in front of me again, in nothing but his boxers, I realize I have to make a choice. Stand there, face to face with his Johnson, and possibly perform and act I never have before, or lay back on the bed, as embarrassingly wet as I am and let him have his way. I choose the latter, just has he begins to inch his boxers over his hips.
 

Ray walks to the other side of the room and I watch his bare, tight ass with extreme pleasure as I settle under the comforter. I hear the telltale crinkle of a foil wrapper and brace myself for what’s about to happen.
 

I’m completely naked, incredibly horny and I’m about to have hot sex with a normally unattainable guy. I could be dreaming. I might wake up and realize I actually did go for a run and passed out somewhere along the way, but for now, I’m going to enjoy every second. Who knows when I’ll find myself in this position again?

Ray slips under the comforter with me and I chew on my bottom lip, unsure of what my next move should be. He doesn’t seem confused at all. He leans forward and kisses my lips lightly, then rests his palm on my stomach. His hand is so warm, his touch so soft, I find myself getting wetter. Ray kisses me softly and all the tension, all of the embarrassment melts away. He turns me onto my side and our legs tangle together again. My hand creeps down his lower back and over the curve of his ass. His finds the heat between my legs, lingering over my folds for several torturous seconds before sinking into my dampness.

“Oh, wow.” He pulls away from my mouth, murmuring against my cheek. “Sydney.”
 

The way he says my name makes me open my legs a crack more and he breathes a heavy sigh into my neck, then begins to nibble on my earlobe. His fingers work their way toward my clit, rubbing softly at first, as if testing the waters.
 

The touch is light, but the sensation intense and I shriek, then bite down on my bottom lip.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice thick.
 

I nod. “Yeah,” I say in a rushed breath. “I’m okay.”

He continues to feel his way around and another moan escapes me. Ray maneuvers himself on top of me, bracing himself with one arm on either side.
 

“Are you ready?” he asks.

I almost want to laugh at how adorable he is. Manners in the middle of sex? I didn’t think a guy like that existed.
 

I reach up and pull him down to me, until we are skin to skin. This time, I take control, raking my hands through his hair and covering his mouth with mine.
 

Ray parts my legs further, settling in between them. He easily finds his way back to my center, caressing it until I am completely relaxed and my knees have drifted to the sides. I press my hips closer to him, as he massages my clit, showing my appreciation in every kiss and every stroke of my nails on his back. I’ve lifted my bottom half off the mattress and with his other hand he holds me in place, as close to him as possible.
 

He draws back, finding my breast again, sucking harder on my nipples this time as he plunges his finger deeper inside me. I call for him in a voice that almost sounds as though I’m in pain.
 

Ray doesn’t ask for my permission as he moves his hand back and thrusts his hips forward. It hurts at first and as I tense, he eases up. But I don’t want him to stop. I’ve forgotten how good it feels to be touched. And though I’ve never been touched quite like this, I know it will only get better.
 

“It’s okay,” I whisper. “I’m okay. Don’t stop.”

Inch by inch, he pushes his way deeper inside me, and I’m stretched to the point where I’m almost ready to pull away. But when Ray’s lips brush my ear again and he breathes my name in strangled desperation, I give in to him instead.
 

And I’m glad I do. He moves slowly against me, rocking his hips gently back and forth. It isn’t any less overwhelming, but it feels good. That perfect narrow line between pleasure and pain. He doesn’t pant like a dog or make disgusting grunting noises either. His breath is uneven and his heart synchronizes with the wild beat of my own as his hands traveling up and down every inch of my body.
 

I’m completely lost in him, my pride and concern for my appearance out the window. All I care about is Ray touching me, making me feel better than I knew was possible. This is it. This is what they talk about—all the stories about great sex never made sense until right now. I never understood the appeal, the crave, until this moment. Until this man.
 

I open my legs wider, bringing my knees closer to my chest. As Ray pushes himself forward, he goes even deeper and I scream. He freezes, but I pull him closer and tightening the grip with one of legs. “Don’t stop,” I say. “Please.”

He pushes deeper and deeper into me, hitting the same spot over and over, sending a distinct sensation through me. One I’ve only ever been able to reach on my own. But not even. This one is more intense. It buzzes through nerves, tingling my scalp and my toes.
 

His hot breath hits my ear and I turn my head to meet his lips. I can’t tell how much time passes, but it feels like hours. I can’t think about or feel anything but him. It’s like I’m in a dream I can’t wake up from. But even better because I don’t want to. The scruff on his face grates at my skin and his kisses are soft and passionate, the imprints of his fingers burn hot all over my body.
 

Ray and I arrive at the same time and when we do, we lie there, limp in each other’s arms. I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. But I don’t, so I close my eyes, and drift off to sleep.

This morning I watch her. Not like the first time, when I was so hung over and embarrassed, I pretended to be asleep.
 
Or in Moscow when I was in such a rush to find my sister, I had to leave her warmth behind. And certainly not the other day, when I left her there like a coward. This morning my fingers caress her belly. I watch her bare chest rise and fall and every so often, I lean in to kiss her plump lips.
 

This morning I am where I belong.

I gently reposition her, resting her head on my chest and closing my eyes as I revel in the sensation of her breath on my skin. If she were awake, I’d want her again. To lay her down on this bed and plant myself in side her over and over. I’d want her to kiss me back, call my name and make me harder than I’ve ever been. But I won’t wake her for my own selfish reasons. Not this time.
 

 
She was aggressive. Coaching me to give in and I almost did. But she has no idea what’s bubbling inside me when I touch her. And I have no idea if she’d be able to handle it.

I fall back to sleep with her pressed against me and when I dream it’s of my fantasies. Of me doing everything to her I’ve ever imagined. When I awake again, I ease out of the bed and slip into my clothes. I’ll need to take a walk, maybe even a run, if I want to burn this off. I have a feeling I’ve gotten myself in so deep, I’ll never find my way out. Not that I want to. I only hope she feels the same.
 

I sit up in bed, my mouth instantly watering.
 

What is that?

I sniff deeply and my mind registers the intoxicating aroma. Coffee. But the coffee I drink never smells that good. Lately it’s been the kind that comes in a jar and settles at the bottom of the mug. This stuff smells like a cafe. Like a heavenly cafe.
 

I crawl off the futon and grab the nearest piece of clothing. It’s Ray’s. I close my eyes and breath in deeply as I pull the cotton rugby shirt over my head. The sweet scent of his cologne tugs at my lips and my heart skips a million beats.

My feet hit the floor and I pad quietly toward the kitchen. Lingering in the archway, I watch him at work. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs. And he’s stirring something vigorously in a bowl. With every movement his back muscles flex and heat stirs inside me.
 

I should leave him alone, but I can’t. Not when he’s standing there, half-naked in my kitchen. Not when I have him all to myself.
 

As I drifted off last night, part of me expected to find him gone in the morning. To be put to shame again like I was the other day. I’d said a lot of things. A lot of dirty, naughty things and I was scared I might have turned him off. But apparently, it only made him want to cook me breakfast.

I step forward, clearing my throat lightly and he turns to face me.

“Good morning.” A smile lights up his face. “Or should I say afternoon? You sure like your sleep.”

“Especially, when I’m extra tired.” I bite my lip.
 

Ray rests the bowl and whisk down on the counter and lessens the space between us. He reaches for me and I step into his arms. His lips brush my forehead and I swear I feel him swell against me.