24. Hudson
Chapter 24
Hudson
I feel the smirk dancing about my lips take over the rest of my face at the sound of Giselle’s words.
Grabbing her hand, I pull her away from the taxi and into my apartment building. Warmth blasts from the heaters in the lobby, thawing out our skin, as I slam my palm into the up button beside the lift.
Giselle tucks herself into my side for the entire ride upwards, only breaking away when we reach my floor and I have to fish in the depths of my pocket to get my key and unlock my flat door.
I jam my thumb into the thermostat beside the door, turning up the heat, before glancing back around at Giselle.
“Nice place,” she praises, spinning in a circle so she can see everything.
For the first time since I began renting out my flat, I feel like I see it again for the first time through Giselle’s eyes.
White washed walls, which separate the kitchen from the living room and the living room from the bedroom, an old beaten up leather sofa from my parent’s drawing room positioned in front of my TV, with the light smattering of photographs I have dotted on the walls.
“Is this your dad?” Giselle asks, standing before a dark blue frame containing a smiling photo of my father and myself as a small boy.
I take the empty space beside her, grabbing onto her waist. I can’t get enough. I need to feel her beneath my fingertips at the very least, if not taste her on the tip of my tongue. “Yep.”
She nods, peering at me out of the corner of her eye. “He’s hot.”
I slide my hand two inches down her body, pinching the thick flesh of her arse through those fucking painted on leather jeans of hers in warning. “ Don’t call my dad hot.”
“Why not?” She shrugs. “He is!”
I roll my eyes, letting my hand drop as I move to step away.
“If your dad’s hot.” Giselle yanks me back with surprisingly more strength than I thought she had. “Then than means when you’re his age… you’ll be attractive too.”
I peer down at her, pressing the tip of my tongue into the sharp canine of my tooth to stop myself from laughing. “Am I not already attractive, Giselle?”
“Very much so and you fucking know it.” She smirks and gestures to me. “But in a couple more years you’ll have this whole… silver fox, DILF, thing going on.”
“Silver fox, DILF, thing, huh? Is that your type?”
“Anything Hudson Millen related is my type.”
Crowding into her space, I wrap my palms around the back of Giselle’s thighs, urging her to jump in my arms and twine her legs around my waist, as I carry her over to the sofa.
The leather cushions, soft with age, give away easily as I sit, Giselle perched in lap; exactly where I like her to be.
“I was going to be a gentleman and offer you a cup of tea or something…” I shove my face between her jaw and shoulder, sucking at a patch of her skin. “But fuck it.”
“I don’t want you to be a gentleman, Hudson.” Her hips grind down against the bulge in my trousers, as my lips work along her jawline, stopping only when I reach her lips. “I want you to be you.”
She’s going to regret saying that.
“Are you going to follow my rules?”
“M-maybe.” Giselle pants above me, her nipples two hard bullets pressing again the thin material of her top… if you can even call it that. “Depends on what’s in it for me.”
“What’s in it for you?” I chuckle darkly into her chest, fingertips plucking at the tie holding her top together and beginning to pull ever… so… slowly. “Stand up.”
Slipping from my lap, Giselle does as she’s told. She stays strangely silent as I continue pulling at the string, until it falls away, leaving her bare from the waist up.
I watch as her back straightens, pushing her perfect, perky breasts out rather than shying away from me.
I’m about to reward her, when her hands come up to cup her tits, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh together enticingly. Giselle’s eyes flick down to my erection, still covered by my clothes, but causing a bulge.
“Like what you see, hm?” she coos, her eyes lighting up in delight as I reach down and squeeze myself in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure building in the back of my spine.
I don’t answer, instead licking my lips and tipping my chin upwards in a silent gesture. “Unbutton your pants, Giselle.”
“Aren’t you going to do it for me?” She pouts, as if I’m the one not playing along with her game.
Little does she know it’s the other way around.
I’m the one in charge here, not her.
“Unbutton your fucking pants. I’m not going to tell you again, Giselle.”
She must hear the demand in my tone, for she slips her hands down her exposed stomach, flicking open the clasp of her trousers with a flick of her wrist.
“Pull them down.”
Hooking her thumbs in the tight waistband, she begins to shimmy the tight material down her thighs.
“Your knickers too.”
Her manicured eyebrows raise, but she doesn’t protest.
I knew beneath all of her hard exterior there was a soft obedient girl in there somewhere, she just needed to feel safe enough to let it out.
I tell Giselle as such, noting the soft smile she sends my way which tells me I’m fucking correct.
“Sometimes I feel like you’re peeling me apart,” she whispers, even though we’re the only two in my flat, and my walls are pretty thick for how much rent I actually pay each month. “Finding parts of myself I didn’t even know were there.”
I sit forward, resting my forearms on my knees as I gaze up at her. “The feeling’s mutual, Gee. Very fucking mutual.”
With both of our souls exposed, Giselle continues stripping herself bare, her hands reaching out to grip my broad shoulders to steady herself as she gets her tight trousers stuck around her ankles.
If it was any other woman I might have a different opinion, but Giselle somehow still makes it looks sexy, even if she’s giggling to herself.
When she goes to climb back onto my lap, I stop her with a shake of my head, taking her hand, rubbing once over the gold band.
“Outside, you promised me I could have you, whichever way I wanted, remember?”
Giselle’s head bobs up and down.
“Good. Get on the sofa, hands and knees.”
The leather cushions of my sofa emit a breath of air as Giselle crawls onto them, palms flat, her glossy hair falling over one shoulder as she turns to peer back at me – all big doe eyes and pouty lips.
I can hear the blood rushing between my ears, my heart thundering in my chest.
Even my mouth is slightly dry as I roam my gaze over her figure, taking in the long, lean, length of her limbs, perfectly sculpted with muscle, from the strong strength of her toned arms to the exquisitely crafted lifted lines highlighting her glutes.
Giselle’s body is a work of art.
And I intent to worship it for as long as she’ll let me.
Forever, if possible.
The thought makes my stomach flip, turning inside out, before it rights itself.
My heart and my head, however, appear to be in agreement with one another; sending a ripple of excitement through my nervous system to replace that quick pang of fear.
“I thought you we’re going to touch me.”
I blink at Giselle’s words, licking my lips and clenching my jaw to force myself back into the present moment.
“I’m going to do so much more than touch you,” I all but scoff, standing to my full height so I can tower above Giselle, but still be close enough that I can reach out my hand to caress the thin skin covering the ladder of her ribs.
I follow the path of my hand with my eyes, watching as she shivers, goosebumps erupting over her soft skin in the wake of my touch.
When I get to her arse, I can’t help but squeeze, one cheek and then the other, gripping the thick flesh to see it ripple and move. I want to watch her arse bounce while I plough into her from behind, my hipbones kissing her flesh until all that can be heard is the slapping of our skin joining together and screams of ecstasy.
But I have to be patient.
I need to warm Giselle up first.
Without warning, I place both of my hands on Giselle’s arse, using the pressure of my fingertips to pull her flesh apart, putting her on display for my pleasure.
She gasps, oh so darkly, the sweet hole of her arse twitching as I purse my lips and blow out a bubble of cool air.
I watch, intently, as the pink satin seam of her pussy pulses too, a smear of wetness coating her inner thighs visible now I have her sitting pretty.
I’m almost sure I’ve died and gone to heaven when I part her lips with my pointer and middle finger, creating an upside-down V shape for her clit to nestle between the web of my fingers, exposing a single droplet of Giselle’s pleasure about to drip from her slit.
Sticking my tongue out as far as I can get it, I lean down, my forehead resting on the curve of her arse while I catch her pleasure with my mouth, not willing to waste a drop.
Giselle whimpers, one of her hands reaching backwards to fist the strands of my hair, keeping me there.
It’s hard not to oblige her, especially when she tastes as addictive as she does. I lick and suck, circling the tip of my tongue around her clit until I find the right rhythm which makes her toes curl and her hips stutter backwards, rutting against my face.
She comes with a groan of my name, her thighs tensing beneath my hands, while a burst of wetness explodes along my tastebuds.
Once she’s finished twitching with aftershocks, I press two twin kisses to her quivering inner thighs, the curve of her arse, and the matching dimples on either side of her spine.
“You’re entirely too good at that,” she huffs, folding the upper half of her body down until she can lay her cheek on the sofa.
I hum nonchalantly, licking the taste of her off my upper lip while an idea forms in my head.
“Wait right there, Gee. Don’t move, I’ll only be a second.”
I swear she mutters, “I couldn’t even if I wanted too. My legs are like jelly,” only serving to inflate my ego – and my cock – even further, urging me to find what I’m looking for and return to Giselle’s side as quick as humanly possible.
Ripping open the drawer of my bedside cabinet, I pull out a bottle of lube, hightailing it back to the living room.
Giselle is still in the same position I left her in, eyes closed, upper teeth sunk into her bottom lip.
“Flip over.”
Peeling one lid open, and then the other, Giselle flips onto her back just as I asked, staring at me through heavy, pleasure sated, eyes.
“What—”
“Do you trust me?”
She doesn’t even hesitate. “Yes. I trust you, Hudson. But what—”
I skim my finger down the slope of her nose; simply because I need to touch her. I need to feel her, alive and wanting, beneath my fingertips. “Will you let me touch you?”
“Let you touch me?” She giggles. “I think we’re a little past that, don’t you think?”
“I mean, will you let me prep you?” I raise the bottle of lubricant so she can see it. “I don’t want to hurt you, Giselle, so I need you to work with me here…”
Propping herself onto her forearms, Giselle flicks her sight between me and the plastic in my hand, eyes narrowed.
“Have you used that bottle of lube with anyone before me?”
I shake my head, pressing it closer to her so she can see the hygienic seal wrapped around the lid is still intact.
“Good,” she repeats my words back to me, passing the lube back into my palm, our fingers tangling with each other as she does.
Gently circling her wrist, I position her hand to stand flat against mine, the contrast between our bodies never more prominent. Where her skin is soft and supple, mine is hard and bulky. Where her body is all lean lines and toned flesh, mine is corded muscle and sharp lines. Where her fingers are slim, tipped with short, but neat, nails, mine are thick and long, my nails clipped right back.
“You see?” I fold my fingertips over Giselle’s. “I’m so much bigger than you.”
“I like that you’re bigger than me,” she all but whispers, lashes shuttering.
“Mm, so you’ve got a size kink.” I hum, trying to make light out of a delicate conversation. I’m a bit afraid that no matter how much prep work we do, it’s still going to be painful for Giselle when we finally do have sex.
“More like a ‘Hudson Millen kink’.”
I tip my head forward, laughing as I lay my lips on hers.
“I like the sound of that...”
Too caught up in twisting my tongue with Giselle’s, I miss the way her deft fingers pluck the bottle of lube from my hand. It’s only when she pulls her lips from mine, replacing me with the plastic easy squeezy tube so she can use her teeth to rip away the hygiene wrapper, do I realise Giselle’s letting me know how comfortable she feels, how much she trusts me, and what exactly she wants to happen next.
She spits the now broken wrapper onto the floor, flipping open the lid with her thumbnail and grabbing at my hand, pouring a generous amount of lube onto my fingers, strings of it dripping down to kiss my palm.
“Put your fingers inside me, Hudson,” she directs, her pupils blowing large. “I want to feel you inside of me. It’s all I can fucking think about. I don’t care if it stings. I want to feel you.”
There are so many things I want to say to her, but I don’t know how to say them. The words, the emotions, feel like they’re just getting stuck in the base of my throat, so instead I cup the back of Giselle’s head and kiss her softly, slowly, a whispered “thank you for trusting me” dying on my lips.
I bend my knees, perching myself on the edge of the sofa, whilst Giselle spreads her legs, showcasing her pink pussy, slightly puffy and swollen, inner thighs red with a stubble rash from my teeth, tongue and lips.
Uncurling my fingertips from my fist, I slide my thick middle finger through the wet seam of her, over the throbbing hood of her clit and down her folds before I press the tip of my finger to her entrance.
“You okay?” I can’t help but ask, needing to hear the reassurance of her voice.
Giselle nods against my sofa cushion, pupils dilated. She licks her lips and bucks her hips up against my finger in reminder of what she wants me to do to her.
I slide my finger further inside her, feeling the walls of pussy cling onto me greedily.
God, she’s tight.
She’s going to feel otherworldly wrapped around my cock, when—
“More, Hudson.”
Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I press my ring finger to join my middle, eliciting a moan from my throat and a hiss from Giselle’s.
I tense my wrist, about to pull my fingers out, so I don’t cause her anymore pain, but Giselle clenches around me. Keeping me there.
“Don’t pull out,” she groans, nibbling at her own lip.
Christ.
“You’re going to kill me,” I huff, barely holding onto my rope of restraint. Using my free hand, I deftly unbutton the clasp of my trousers, my cock bobbing over the top of the waistband of my underwear and give myself a tight squeeze.
A reminder.
This isn’t about me.
It’s about Giselle.
Raising my line of eyesight to rest on her face so I can catalogue every expression – pained and pleasure – I crook my two fingers, pressing against the front wall of her pussy in search of that spongey spot I’m sure will have her back bowing off my sofa.
“H-Hudson,” Giselle pants, hips twisting, brow furrowed.
A fresh surge of wetness coats my fingers when I swipe the pad of my thumb over her sensitive clit, drawing a pretty whimper from Giselle’s red, lipstick smeared, mouth.
Keeping my pace as steady as I possibly can, I rock my fingers inside of Giselle until her gritted hiss of pain becomes a gasp of ecstasy.
“Don’t—don’t fucking stop,” she moans, as I hit a particularly sensitive spot.
My lips tick up at the corners with pride, knowing I’m the only one who gets to touch her like this, I’m the only one who gets to see Giselle fall apart like this at the touch of my own hand.
Pushing up through my thighs, I scramble up Giselle’s body to wrap my lips around her left nipple, cupping the weight of her other breast with my palm.
The wet sounds of Giselle’s pussy ricochet across the four walls of my living room, mixing with her panting moans, driving me even further to insanity, pushing me to the brink, short circuiting my mind until all I can think about it making her explode all over my fingers.
Wrapping one arm around my neck, Giselle practically drags me upwards to lay her lips on mine. It’s sloppy and uncoordinated as Giselle takes her own pleasure, too caught up in the moment to even attempt to perfect it. That’s exactly what I fucking love about her. Nothing is filtered. She is perfectly, organically, unapologetically herself; take it or leave it.
“Hudson…” she whispers. “I’m close.”
“That’s it,” I coo, pinching her chin between my thumb and forefinger so she can’t look away. “Take what you need from me, Gee. Fucking take it. It’s yours. You’ve waited so long, you’ve earned it, so just let go.”
Giselle shatters over my hand; the walls of her pussy fluttering rhythmically while her mouth falls open, my name whimpered against my own upper lip.
I drink in the sight of her, committing every fucking inch of her body, still twitching with ecstasy, to memory so this moment between us can last forever.
“You’re so pretty when you cum,” I mumble into her jaw, dipping my head to suck a mark there. To brand myself into her skin.
When I peer up through my lashes, it’s to find Giselle smiling down at me, sated and content. Her eyes have fallen to half mast, her blinks twice as slow as they are normally. She looks drunk on endorphins.
“I’m drunk on you,” she corrects, having heard my words out loud.
“That’s a dangerous thing to be, don’t you think?”
She nods. “I know.”
Without saying another word, I slip my fingers from Giselle as gently as possible, drawing a wet line along the centre of her naked body, past her tense abdomen, between the valley of her perky tits, up to her plump lips.
I rest my fingertips there, waiting for Giselle to make the next move.
Wrapping her small digits around my thick wrist, she guides the two fingers I’ve had inside her pussy, inside her mouth, licking a stripe from palm to tip and suckling.
I’m barely able to stop my eyes from rolling back in their sockets, imagining how good that fucking unpredictable mouth of hers will feel around my cock. I’m so hard, I ache, my balls heavy and pulsing, but the sleepy look still dancing across Giselle’s face tells me we won’t be doing anything else tonight other than sleeping.
I can’t pretend I’m not a selfish prick, though, so I press down on Giselle’s tongue, just to hear her gag oh so prettily.
I’m wondering if Giselle is regretting her decision when she told me to just be myself – ungentlemanly, jealous and a little bit of a tease – but then she bites down on my fingers. Hard. And I know she doesn’t regret a thing, not a single fucking thing.
Pulling my fingers free, I suck them into my own mouth, releasing them a moment later with a pop , before bringing my face close to hers.
“We can both be drunk together, then,” I say, my heart picking up speed at my admission. “Because I’ve been fucking intoxicated with you since the moment you almost got me thrown out of the gym all those weeks ago.”