Crazy Imperfect Hearts

Chapter Ten

Regan

He laughs as I eagerly drag him back to the bedroom. Of course I do. He has, after all, been the inspiration for all six orgasms I’ve had since we last did this. Getting this under my belt will surely give me more to draw upon.

Crossing the threshold of my bedroom, he points across the hall. “What’s behind that door?”

“Bedroom. Or it would be, but I’ve made it into a closet.”

He laughs. “Of course you have. I’ll bet your collection of crazy-ass leggings is even more impressive than my collection of ties.”

I giggle, flip off the light and pull him toward the end of the bed. He drops my hand, looks me right in the eye and tugs the hem of my shirt out of my jeans. I might be taller than the average woman, but he still towers over me and easily lifts it over my head.

He tosses the shirt to the floor and stares at my breasts. Large-breasted women have more limited sexy lingerie options. But having advanced knowledge that this was going to happen, I broke out one of the few very pricey pieces in my collection. It’s not quite as supportive as my day-to-day bras, and the straps do cut into my shoulders, but sometimes it’s worth it.

The way he’s staring at my chest—this is definitely one of those times.

“I have to apologize,” he says, practically salivating. “I don’t think I gave these proper attention last time.” He reaches around and unhooks my bra, freeing my size Fs from their satin captivity. “I won’t be making that mistake again.”

Instantly, his large hands cover my breasts—massaging, kneading, caressing—sending bolts of pleasure shooting through me, especially when he touches my nipples.

“They’re fucking spectacular.” His head dips and he flicks a nipple with his tongue. Then he takes my entire areola into his mouth and sucks like a baby getting his first meal.

I take the opportunity to run my fingers through his ever-immaculate hair. Unlike his brothers, Lucas never has a hair out of place, and now I can feel the reason—styling gel. I rake my fingers through the stiff strands, hell-bent on making his hair as messy as possible. Am I doing so to please myself or irritate him?

Doesn’t matter. Because he doesn’t seem to notice. He’s a bit… preoccupied.

When he bites down lightly, I yelp and push back, trying to decide if I liked the sting or didn’t. “Did you just nip me?”

“Sorry. I heard some girls like that.”

“You heard?”

He shrugs. “Never tried it.”

This shocks me to my core. He’s been with at least a half dozen women that I know about, most of them long term. Don’t couples in long relationships try things?

“Oh. Well, the jury is still out.”

He chuckles. “Noted. Mind if we get naked now?”

“Considering I’m halfway there…” I hold out my arms in invitation.

He unbuttons my jeans and lowers the zipper. I sit, toe off my wedges, and assist him in getting my pants off. They’re pretty darn snug and I don’t want him flying across the room and falling on his ass. Although now that I think of it, it might be quite entertaining.

“Now you.” I’m at eye level with his crotch and can’t keep my eyes off the massive bulge.

When he untucks his shirt and lifts it over his head without undoing all the buttons, I can’t help but stare at the tip of his erection. Because it’s jutting out of the top of his pants. Holy, wow! He either doesn’t notice my gawking or is so used to it that it means nothing to him.

His shoes and socks come off in a flash. Then his pants and boxer briefs are discarded in one fell swoop. When he stands up straight again, his cock thwaps his lower abs then rebounds, bouncing back and forth like an inverted pendulum.

Oh my god, that thing was inside me?

I swallow and scoot myself fully onto the bed, amazed at the capability of the vagina to accommodate penises this size. Then again, women push babies out of them, so I shouldn’t be surprised. I guess I’m more perplexed that it didn’t hurt, and that I actually enjoyed it. I did enjoy it, didn’t I?

Since David, it’s been hard to enjoy much of anything unless it’s at my own hand under my own control.

Regan, now is not the time to think of that snake.

Lucas sits on the bed beside me and stares at my naked form. “I promise I’ll last longer this time.”

I rise up on my elbows. “How can you possibly know that? Did you take those pills or something?”

“Nah, I pre-gamed.” When I narrow my eyes in confusion, he explains, “You know, rubbed one out earlier so I won’t shoot off like a pubescent hornball.”

I can’t help it; I belt out incredulous laughter. “Are you serious?”

He laughs along with me. “It’s kind of nice to be able to talk about shit without wondering if you’ll judge me. Benefits of a one-night stand I guess.”

I hold up two fingers. “Two, but who’s counting? And I agree. But, Lucas, there’s a fine line between honesty and TMI.”

His abs shake with silent laughter. “I guess you know way more than you ever wanted about my masturbation habits, huh?”

My hand goes for his cock. “So I can do this now?”

His eyes close briefly and his head seems to float above his shoulders. “Oh, hell yes.”

I can’t completely wrap my hand around him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. I pump him the best I can, wondering for a moment how any woman could fit that thing in her mouth. Could I? Would I want to?

“Fuck, that’s good,” he moans after I’ve worked him for a good minute or two. “Your turn again.”

I lie back flat and he pushes my legs apart, running a finger along my wet folds before sliding it inside me.

“Admit you think I’m hot and not just handsome.”

I look at him like he’s crazy.

“Come on, Ray, tell me you think I’m hot. I know you do. Your pussy doesn’t lie.”

My thighs squeeze together. The combination of his words and the low, growly timbre of his voice has me experiencing a quivering in my belly unlike anything I’ve felt before.

It registers that he called me Ray . Nobody ever calls me that. Not after I insisted on it way back in middle school when I thought it sounded too manly. But, oh my, when he says it, it’s like sex on a stick. A big wet juicy lollipop on his lips. So I don’t bother correcting him.

“Say it,” he demands.

“You’re hot, okay? Jeez.”

He smiles, then dips his head and feasts on me.

There’s something about getting eaten out that is better than anything else a man could ever do to a woman. In comparing notes with friends, I’ve found that men don’t tend to frequent the area on me, a plus-size woman, as much as my slender friends get treated to it. Now I’m wondering if maybe it’s not my size. Maybe it’s just me. Is it possible I give off a vibe that tells them I’m not up for it?

Vibe or not, Lucas seems intent on being there and I’ve no plans to push him away. In fact it feels so good that…

Holy hell, is it going to happen?

… no, I don’t think so.

… well, maybe.

… ah, shit.

Like I’ve done more times than I can even count, I go through the motions, make the noises, squeeze my vag muscles, and gyrate my hips. Then, I still.

“Damn, woman.” He rises, lips glistening in the muted light.

I try to keep the guilt off my face. “Condom?”

“Coming right up.”

He hops off the bed and moments later I hear the tearing of the package. He rolls it on as I remember the conversation from earlier when I offered to get condoms. Do they make special sizes for guys like him?

“I lied,” he says, back on the bed and hovering over me. “I’m not going to last long.”

I giggle and reach around to grab his ass cheeks, encouraging him inside.

He slides in easily. Much more so than last time. I wonder if he notices too. He glides in and out, his groans of pleasure getting more frequent and louder with every thrust.

I groan a bit too. It does feel good, but I don’t kid myself into thinking I’ll get more out of it than I am.

His elbows lock as he comes, grunting loudly as he rides the wave. His head slumps and he rolls to the side, breathing heavily.

How long do I let him lie there before kicking him out and giving myself the release I need? Because I’m wound as tight as a spring in a mattress factory.

He breathes out deeply. “Thanks for that.”

“Sure thing.”

He lifts his head. “Regan?”

“Mmm?”

“You faked it, didn’t you?”