One String (Lighter Ones)

Chapter 16

Marilyn

I tell myself not to overthink. It’s the worst thing I can do. Pushing the doubts and concerns of tomorrow out of my head, I demand of myself to live in the here and now. This present is what I’ve dreamed of.

Ricky’s toned body is the flame, drawing me closer. I’m a moth hopelessly attracted to his presence and purposely not heeding the dangers. Beneath the tips of my fingers, I sense each and every indentation, each muscle and tendon in his wide shoulders as he presses his erection against my core.

He lifts his face and torso, his brown eyes swirling with desire as his stare intensifies. “Will you give me another chance?”

I blink, trying to understand his question. “Another…?”

“I fucking want you, more than I thought possible.”

“I’m here.” The ache between my legs is growing with need.

“Tell me to stop right now.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because if we go through with this, I’m not going to ghost you. You’ll be stuck with me until you tell me to go.”

An ache forms in my chest. “Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep. I want this. Tomorrow is tomorrow. I want to live in today.” My pleas must have been heard. All at once, I close my eyes and arch my back as Ricky’s lips capture mine, and he plunges deep inside me. My body stretches to accommodate his presence.

Ricky’s movements still. “Look at me, Marilyn.”

I open my eyes, lost in a swirl of chocolate, dark and light.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

Swallowing, I nod. “You’re bigger than I remember.” I see his smile and the small dimples indenting his cheeks.

“You’re as tight as I remember. Are you good?”

“I’m good,” I say. “I have the feeling I could be better if you stopped talking and did something with the massive cock currently in my pussy.”

Ricky’s laugh fills the room. “Oh, you want me to do something with my cock.”

I lift an eyebrow. “If you’re up to it.”

To my utter shock and surprise, Ricky pulls out. Before I can verbalize my disappointment, he lifts my ass, encouraging me to turn. With my face on the pillow and ass in the air, Ricky slaps one cheek of my behind and then the other. The sting refocuses me. Without hesitation, he thrusts deeper than before, sending fireworks through my nervous system.

There’s nothing gentle in what he’s doing. The intense grip on my hips and the ferocity of his thrusts dominate my thoughts. Within me, anticipation begins to build, like adding heat to a pressure cooker. The friction is intense. For a moment, I think about what he’s doing to my body. Tomorrow, I’ll remember this with each step. Now, I don’t want it to stop. The room fills with the sounds of two bodies, slapping and pounding. My entire body is on full alert.

Despite never having experienced anything like this, I’m captivated by the sensation of immense fullness. Ricky’s curses fill my ears as synapse after synapse fires, the rattling of firecrackers before the explosive finale.

“Touch yourself,” he says between kisses to my back and shoulders.

I do as he says, finding my clit while purposely touching the slickness of his cock.

“Fuck, Marilyn.”

“Oh my God,” I pant. My muscles constrict. Every muscle. From my scalp to my toes. The eruption is second only to Mount Vesuvius. My entire body trembles. The screams filling the room are familiar, yet foreign. It takes me a minute to realize that I’m the one screaming.

Ricky’s deep roar comes moments later as his cock convulses within me.

With my body continuing to tremble, I collapse onto my stomach, unsure if I’m even capable of rolling. Ricky’s weight covers me, our bodies still connected.

He tenderly eases my long hair away from my neck and gently peppers my cheek, my neck, and my shoulder with kisses. His voice breaks through the puddle that remains of my mind and body. “I think it’s fair to say you came twice.”

Opening my eyes, I meet his sparkling gaze. “I mean, it was okay.”

Ricky slowly separates our union, leaving me with a sense of emptiness.

I feel the mattress move and hear him in the attached bathroom, yet my body is still immobile. Thoughts of him leaving now threaten my orgasmic bliss, until he returns, a warm washcloth in hand.

“Roll over.”

Shaking my head, I stifle a laugh. “I don’t think I can move.”

He helps me roll, until I’m on my back.

“I can take that,” I offer.

Ricky shakes his head. “I’m responsible for that tight pussy being sore. I can take care of it.”

Warmth fills my cheeks.

“Don’t get all shy on me, Marilyn. Seconds before my cock was deep inside you, you were talking to make a sailor blush. I believe you said something about me doing something with my massive cock. I hope you weren’t disappointed.”

The entire time he’s talking, he’s tending to my mound, washing away my essence.

“You’ve improved,” I say with a grin.

“It’s really not fair to judge someone during your first time.”

That fact brings back my unsettled feelings about our first time. “I knew you knew,” I say, sitting up against the headboard.

Ricky tosses the washcloth onto the carpet and sits at my side. We’re both completely nude as he pulls the sheet to our waists. I lift it to cover my breasts.

“You didn’t tell me,” he says, reaching for my hand and intertwining our fingers. “And when I realized, I freaked out.”

A nod is my only response.

“I’m sorry. It was an important thing for you, and I treated it…” He exhales. “I’m not sure what I did. I ran scared.” He lifts my hand and brings my knuckles to his lips. “I’m here now, if that counts for anything.”

“You don’t have to apologize any more. It’s easier to hate you than to have you be nice.”

“I don’t want you to hate me.”

“It’s okay,” I say, raising my shields. “Tonight was our celebration. No more and no less.” I take a deep breath. “You can go if you want.”

The shine in his brown eyes dims. “You don’t trust me, and honestly, you have every reason not to. I’d like to stay. I have somewhere to be in the morning, but if you’ll have me, I’ll stay the night.”

“I can get you blankets for the couch.”

He lifts my hand and begins kissing, up to my elbow, to my shoulder, to the sensitive skin of my neck. With each flutter of kisses, goose bumps scatter in their wake. “I’d like to stay in your bed.”

“I heard you snore.”

Ricky grins. “That’s hearsay, but you can let me know in the morning.”

The childish dreams of my inner teenager spark to life as Ricky wraps his strong arm around me, pulling me close and cradling my head on his hard shoulder. I tell myself it’s not real. Ricky Dunn is just making up for what he did before.

Yet as his breathing evens and I find myself running my fingers over his wide chest and six-pack, the dreams of the teenager I once was seem real. It is almost as if I can touch him, sense my sore and satisfied core, and inhale his masculine scent.

I wake in a fog, the stiffness in my muscles reminding me of what Ricky and I did last night. A smile curls my lips at the memories of him at the dinner and the research and development Mr. Stevens discussed. I turn to my side, only to find the bed empty. A brush of the sheets tells me it’s also cold.

Familiar uncertainty bubbles to life in my chest, reminding me that dreams don’t come true. Not in real life. It isn’t until I’m in the bathroom that I hear noises coming from the other end of my apartment.

Wearing panties and my short robe, I cautiously make my way toward the kitchen. The aroma of coffee beckons me.

I stop in the doorway, taking in the specimen of a man tending to something that smells like bacon on my stove. He’s wearing low-riding blue jeans and no shirt as the meat in the frying pan spits and splatters. His hair is mused with a sexy bed head look, and his cheeks have more than their normal trimmed beard growth.

Crossing my arms over my breasts, I smirk.

Ricky turns, seeing me. “You are so fucking hot in that robe.”

His compliment warms me from my head to my toes.

“I’m not used to half-naked men cooking me breakfast.”

“Oh,” he says, lifting the spatula. “Do you want breakfast too?”

“You weren’t planning on feeding me?”

“I mean, if there’s any left. You see, I worked up an appetite last night.”

Shaking my head, I make my way barefoot to the coffeepot. As I’m pouring a cup, Ricky’s warmth presses against my back as he wraps his hands around my waist, teasing the tie of my robe. “What do you think you’re doing?”

His scruffy cheek comes to my neck, and his warm breath tickles my ear. “I’m worried that your tits are bound up again. I’m making it my life’s work to assure their freedom.”

Leaving the coffeepot and mug on the counter, I spin in his arms. “When I woke, I thought you were gone.”

“You may not remember, with all the magnificent orgasms you were having. I hear that can cause some temporary memory loss, but I told you if you didn’t stop me, I was hanging around. You didn’t.” He steps back and grins. “Here I am.”

We both turn to the smoke coming from the frying pan.

“Oh.”

Ricky rushes to the pan, lifting it from the burner. “I hope you like your bacon crispy.”

As I go to the refrigerator for my cream, Ricky again meets me. Before I can protest, he lifts me to the edge of the counter and reaches for the sash of my robe.

“What about breakfast?” I ask.

“The bacon needs to cool,” he says with a lopsided grin as he tugs the sash, opening the material and exposing my breasts and panties. “After I saw you in this robe the other night, you have starred in every one of my wet dreams.”

“You have wet dreams?”

“More like jack-off sessions in the shower, but the same idea.”

He lowers his face to my breasts. The scratchiness of his beard growth sends zaps of electricity from my breasts to my core. I lean back on my outstretched arms, savoring the vision of him, his closed eyes and strong lips. My head falls backward. “Ricky.”

He rains kisses lower, to the waistband of my panties.

“Ricky.” My protest lacks sincerity.

“Fuck, Marilyn. You make me so damn hard.”

I lift my behind as he pulls my panties lower, until they’re on the floor. Ricky spreads my legs. “Your pussy is glistening.” His chocolate-swirl stare comes my way. “One more time?”

“Condom?”

Ricky shakes his head. “No sex. Just let me taste you.”

I slide from the counter and turn my back on him, purposely pressing my ass against his pinned erection. “I’m on the pill.”

The sound of his zipper mixes with his thanks to a higher being, before his hand comes to the small of my back, pressing me forward as he moves my feet farther apart with his. I call out, biting my lip as he slides inside.

I’ve never agreed to unprotected sex. The pill is a backup.

My fingers search the smooth countertop for something, anything to grip. The sensation is too much. I can feel the way his cock hardens and moves. It’s magical and all too addictive. I brace myself along the edge of the counter as Ricky thrusts and retreats, thrusts and retreats.

“Shit, Marilyn. I’m not going to last long.”

“Me either.” My body is already wound tight as a top. “This feels—” I push up on my tiptoes as Ricky slams into me, gripping my hips and panting against my neck. “So fucking good.”

As he pulls out, our combined juices coat my thighs.

Ricky turns me around and lifts my chin. “Good morning, beautiful.”

My focus is on his brown orbs; like the calming of a storm, the swirling has subsided. He has small lines next to his eyes, and his smile is bright. “Good morning.”

His lips take mine. Strong and reassuring, his kiss is possessive and tender. “I’m usually more self-controlled.”

“I’m not complaining.” I peer over his shoulder. “What did you cook?”

“There are scrambled eggs in the microwave and toast. I wasn’t sure how you liked your eggs.”

A smile comes to my lips. “One of those things a boyfriend should probably know.”

He tilts his head.

“Over medium,” I say. “Runny yolk, but not the white.”

“I’m over easy.”

As we sit together at the breakfast bar and eat our breakfast, Ricky asks me about my plans for the weekend.

“I told Devan I’d head down to Riverbend. Jill will be there for Todd’s niece’s birthday. She wants to have a tell-all.” I give Ricky the side-eye. “It seems Devan found out I wasn’t completely honest with her seven years ago.”

“Shit. That’s on me.”

Of course, I knew that.