Chapter Twenty-Nine
James
The hour I spent in Sadie’s car, imagining the worst possible scenarios while she was inside with Bowie, unprotected and unprepared, sucked all the sanity from my mind.
That’s the only explanation for the way my body and brain are acting right now.
I’m following Sadie into her apartment, barely hearing as she explains something about taking Soot out later, thinking only of how I’m going to lose myself in her body, already scheming for how to make this last for days or weeks.
If I turned off our phones and locked the doors, how much time would I have to memorize every aspect of her before someone came looking?
Would I be able to embed the sound of her desperate panting in my memories?
Would the smell of her arousal become part of my DNA?
Would the feel of her cunt strangling me and the taste of her tongue become rooted in my psyche?
What I wouldn’t give for the answer to be yes.
“James?”
I blink, her voice tearing me from my reverie. She’s standing in the doorway to her bedroom, looking at me with expectation. I don’t know what she said, but it doesn’t matter.
Stalking across the living room, I pull her face to mine and practically attack her with my kiss.
She accepts the assault of my lips, tongue, and teeth, and matches the aggression.
Backing her into her room, I kick the door shut behind us, ignoring Soot’s immediate cries.
My hands push under her thin silk top, blindly inspecting every inch of her body.
I feel the belly button ring and the small mole on her back, right where her waist curves in.
Then I find the swell of her breasts spilling out the sides of her bra and groan into her mouth.
Fuck, her tits are magnificent. Following the bra’s band to her back, I make quick work of unclipping it.
She doesn’t need prompting before briefly pulling back enough to remove her top and bra.
My palms return to her tits, kneading the exposed skin and pressing against the pebbled nipples.
She gasps, her nails scraping my scalp as she digs her hands into my hair.
Reduced to an animalistic version of myself, I bite down on her bottom lip.
Hard. The coppery taste of blood fills my mouth and I greedily lick it up, dragging my tongue over the little cut my teeth caused on her lip.
Sadie just pushes closer to me, tugging at my neck as if prompting me to swallow her whole.
And fuck, I would if I could.
I unbutton her pants with one hand, and she shoves them down and steps out, moving us closer to the bed.
We fall on it, our bodies lining up deliciously.
Except I’m still wearing far too many clothes, so I sit up, reach back, grab the neck of my shirt, and rip it over my head.
She’s already naked, save for the thong, which I ignore for now, needing her lips back on mine.
Wrapping one hand around her neck, I descend, sucking her bottom lip into my mouth.
She moans, her hands ghosting over my midsection.
My abs constrict when her fingers pass over my stomach on their way to my back, then my shoulders.
Her touch causes my desire to burn hotter.
As much as I love kissing her, my craving for more is becoming too much to ignore.
I roll away from her and scoot up the bed on my back. She lets out a petulant whine. Smirking, I meet her eyes before slowly licking my lips.
“Take off that thong and sit on my face.”
“Yes, sir,” she says, perfectly playing into my dominance kink.
I’ve played in the BDSM community before, but I’ve never had the desire to completely live the lifestyle.
I don’t want a full-time submissive. That doesn’t mean hearing Sadie call me ‘sir’ in that meekly obedient, husky voice doesn’t permanently affect my libido.
I watch with a watering mouth as she maneuvers out of her tiny thong and crawls up the bed.
Once close enough, she straightens and throws a leg over me so she’s straddling my head, her gloriously wet pussy mere inches from my mouth.
Unable to help myself, I reach up and drag a finger down her center, groaning at the slippery feel of her arousal.
“Fuck, Sadie,” I mutter. Then, using my thumb and forefinger, I spread her labia, exposing the clit. With my other hand, I reach up and grab her hip, tugging her down until she’s fully sitting on me.
I’ll never understand why some guys complain about going down on women.
It’s a worshipful act, tasting the most intimate parts of another human being and bringing them the purest form of pleasure.
Plus, having someone like Sadie Oliver naked and at your mercy, pleas falling from her lips, is better than any of the world’s wonders.
Still keeping her spread open, I suck her clit into my mouth, flicking it with my tongue.
Before she can get too close to the edge, I switch to flattening my tongue and licking her slowly.
I move my fingers to her entrance, sinking them inside her tight heat.
She moans, and I look up to watch her. Her eyes are squeezed shut, and she’s gripping the headboard.
Her muscles tighten as she begins rolling her hips in needy undulations, fucking herself on my fingers in abandon.
“Fuck yes, James. Yes, please!”
My eyes roll back as I let her words wash over me. My cock is so hard that it hurts, pressing against my jeans as if desperate to be freed so it can replace my fingers in her cunt.
The desire to do just that stops me from edging her again.
I speed up the strokes of my tongue on her clit and the pumping of my fingers, matching her movement.
Using my free hand, I reach down and undo my jeans so I can pull my cock out.
Just one tug has my entire body shivering with anticipation, so I reluctantly let go, not wanting to preemptively come before I can fuck her properly.
Instead, I pour every ounce of focus into devouring Sadie’s dripping pussy until she’s a writhing, moaning mess above me.
Her entire body goes stiff as she reaches orgasm.
I feel it in the way she squeezes my fingers and taste it in the excess arousal coating my tongue.
Letting go of her hips, I hurriedly push off my pants and boxer briefs.
Then, before she has too much time to come down, I return my grip to her middle and pull her down my body.
She looks at me with a hooded, satisfied expression, dropping her hands from the headboard to my chest and steadying herself as I settle her over my throbbing cock.
“Show me how well you can ride it,” I order.
She nods, reaching beneath her to grip the base.
The muscles in my thighs clench at the touch of her fingers, and when she lowers herself onto my cock, I instantly start replaying every dumbass thing I’ve heard Raphael, Nico, Benny, or any of the other guys say to keep from blowing my load too early.
Fully seated, she doesn’t move for several drawn out seconds, during which we both stare at each other in silence, our breaths matching rhythms.
She’s okay. The thought comes from nowhere. I hadn’t realized that the fear for her safety hadn’t fully dissipated, even after she was in the car next to me and we were driving away from Bowie.
But now, with her pussy squeezing my aching dick and the taste of her orgasm on my tongue, I finally release the tension. It’s like my muscles let out an audible sigh, and I sink into the mattress, my hands resting softly on her hips.
Just seconds ago, I wanted a hard, brutal fucking. I wanted it to border on being painful for both of us. But something in the way we’re looking at each other alters that desire. Now, I’d rather savor every slow drag of her inner walls on the sensitive head of my cock.
Fingers digging into the dips of her waist, I pull her up, then push her back down in a slow, careful movement.
I follow it up with the gentle thrust of my own hips.
Without words, we set the pace, which is more sensual than anything else.
Keeping her hands on my chest, she puts most of her weight on her arms, using the leverage to lift then sink onto my cock.
The slow, careful way in which she moves makes my ribs constrict, and an unfamiliar sensation presses against my heart.
My eyes fall shut of their own accord, and my neck strains as I stretch back, using all my self-control to maintain the tempo we silently agreed upon.
It’s almost torturous how long it continues, the only sounds are our breathing and skin slapping together. Suddenly, one of her hands moves and I open my eyes just as a small palm rests against my cheek.
“You make me feel safe,” she whispers.
The sensation around my heart increases, until I’m sure it’s going to burst under the pressure. Why would she say that? How did she know that’s the one thing I can never be confident in? My ability to keep my loved ones safe.
I failed with my mom. My sister. My niece.
I always fail.
But I can’t with her. Not with Sadie.
A rock of burning emotion blocks my airway.
Thankfully, she takes mercy on me and moves her hand from my cheek, down to my throat.
She grips it the same way I grabbed hers earlier.
The pressure is all on the sides, not straight down on the windpipe, which proves that she knows exactly how to choke someone.
Or how to be choked. I’ve never been on the receiving end of this, but I don’t hate it.
Not when it’s her hand. Besides, the pressure is so light that no air is actually cut off.
It’s just the knowledge that she’s on top, in control, that floods both our bodies with addictive endorphins.
She speeds up her undulations, lifting and impaling herself on me faster than before.
The chase for our mutual release has my own hands dancing along her skin, one going to her mouth and the other to her cunt.
I press two fingers past her lips, and she immediately sucks them, grazing her teeth along the digits.
My other fingers find her clit, rubbing hard to help push her toward the edge.
She keeps her hand around my throat, and her gaze locked on mine.
I slam my hips up to meet her in a needier thrust.
Our fucking speeds up with every passing second as the desperation for release overtakes every other thought.
I continue rubbing her clit, and soon, her mouth parts on a moan as she comes.
I follow almost instantly, spilling inside her, and yank her down so our hips are flush together and I’m fully buried in her cunt while we ride out the orgasms. Then she collapses onto me.
We’re both covered in a thin layer of sweat, and I vaguely realize I like the idea of every part of us mixing.
Saliva, sweat, cum, anything she’ll allow.
I want to be irrevocably mixed into her being, and I want her to be so tied into mine that there’ll be no freeing myself from her influence.