Chapter 5 Fireworks #2
After swallowing more wine, he leaned in for another kiss. The scent of this man was remarkable. I couldn’t compare it to anything, except that it made me think of mountains and islands and vast, endless skies.
He tugged on my hand and led me to the balcony.
“Fresh air?” he asked.
“Sure.”
Leaning on the railing, he sighed deeply, his massive chest expanding.
The view was spectacular, overlooking the proudest parts of Ardaine’s skyline.
Streetlamps reflected off the polished high-rise buildings around us, and a sole rocket flew into the sky, bursting into a shower of light.
Someone couldn’t wait for midnight and released the fireworks already.
“I apologize,” Ernest said.
“For what?”
“I’m not usually like this.”
“Um. I don’t behave like a slut in heat every Friday either.” Way to show him how eloquent you are, Lawrence. “But why are you sorry?”
His look turned intense, frowning a little. “I’m very attracted to you. Obviously. I want to get to know you better.”
I raised my eyebrows at him. “Still missing the point of the apology, Ernest.” I liked saying his name. Ernest. It sounded serious and somehow classic.
“I should touch you less and talk to you more. Then you might stay the weekend.” And a self-deprecating smile. He was charming. How did he go from dark and broody to charming in a nanosecond?
“Let’s talk, then.”
Chuckling, he raised his glass for another gulp of his drink. “You are Davidson’s assistant, right? What does that entail besides luring people into vicious revolving doors?”
Did he really want the boring details? “I keep an eye on Mr. Sullivan’s schedule, answer calls, book meetings, sort through files and correspondence, smile, order food and pick up suits from dry cleaners, help at events… Exciting, important stuff. No pixie dust, sadly.”
“For Davidson Sullivan? That’s a superhero job, Lawrence. I’ve never met a man as changeable and irritable as him.”
Ernest was not only exceptionally handsome and freakishly strong, but he was also nice to boot. He found something good about my lowly minion occupation and turned it into a compliment. Was he for real?
“What are your worst personal traits?” I asked.
He sucked in a little of the champagne and coughed.
I cringed. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I asked that.”
“You do know. Tell me.”
I waved around. “You’re handsome, intelligent, live in this place, the wine is excellent, and you’re an amazing lay. I mean…” Trailing off, I shrugged.
His eyes looked way too serious for a moment. “You’re looking for the catch?”
Gazing at him expectantly, I sipped my wine. Without the aftertaste of toothpaste, the champagne was indeed lovely.
Ernest rubbed his neck, seeming a little worried.
“I’m a neat freak and like to stay in control.
” I’d figured that out already. His place looked like it had been ripped from a magazine centerpiece, and when we’d fucked…
Oh yeah, he was in control. “I travel a lot, rarely staying in one place for a long time, which makes me a terrible friend.” A short but telling glance accompanied his statement.
Terrible friend and no boyfriend material.
Message received. Sigh. I knew he was too good to be real.
I’d enjoy the weekend, get railed like fifteen more times, and then forget about him.
“And I have…a lot of family baggage,” he finished. “What are yours?”
“Worst personal traits?”
Ernest nodded, grinning again, all cute.
“I say things without thinking.” His grin widened as if it were a good thing. “And today has proven I have way less restraint than I thought.”
“Those are the worst?”
“I can’t show all my cards in the first round.”
“I like it when you lose restraint.” Stepping closer, he took my now empty glass. “How come I want to kiss you again?”
Instead of answering, I tilted my face. With the hint of champagne, he tasted even better.
Our tongues tangled, lips suckled, his hard bulge poked my stomach, and embarrassingly enough, my body was oh so ready for him again.
I’d never been this attracted to any man ever, which was slightly terrifying, but I didn’t dwell on it. I was too busy savoring him.
“I thought we would spend the rest of the evening in conversation,” he whispered against my lips.
“Are you going to apologize again?”
“No. I can smell your arousal.”
Of course, he could. I was leaking so much slick around this guy it was a miracle I didn’t leave a snail trail behind me. Oh God, did I really think that thought? I giggled against his lips. My brain was a mess.
“What is it?”
“Nothing. Just…you make me insanely horny. I don’t recognize myself.”
He swiftly bent down and put the glasses on the floor before roping his arms around my waist, then diving underneath my robe for my ass cheeks. He kneaded them, and I hummed.
“That’s very lucky because I need to fuck you again.”
This time, we did it on the balcony.
I was hoping to get my mouth on his dick and explore, but he wouldn’t give me a chance. In control, all the way. It turned me on, so I didn’t complain.
He untied the robe and toppled me onto a lounge chair I hadn’t even noticed before. In a few seconds, my legs were in the air, and his tongue was in my ass. Fucking bliss. He made hungry humming noises, alternating between deep licks and gentle suckling, and I melted.
“Fuck. You taste like a miracle.”
My ass gaped open when he spoke, his lips brushing my rim. His voice vibrated into me.
“Want to make you come like this. I’ll drink out of your hole when you come for me.”
“Uh-huh.” Not like I could manage any actual words.
He was relentless, and I mewled from the sudden intensity.
My nipples ached for some reason I didn’t have the mental capacity to analyze, so I pinched them and pulled on them.
When his tongue swirled and wiggled deeper than ever, I lost control of the sounds I was making.
Curses interspersed my wild moans and keening cries.
I briefly wondered if anyone could hear or see us up here, but it was dark and we were above all the nearest rooftops, so unless someone had a helicopter with a long-distance night-vision lens, my ass was probably safe.
And if anyone below cared to listen, let them know just how much fun I was having. Whatever. I stopped thinking.
His tongue was pure magic. My lower body singing, I lay folded in half, as exposed as I could be. He somehow managed to suck on my rim while tonguefucking me. His hand milked my cock, and I was done for. I yelled out my orgasm, and he growled. His loud slurping noises made me shudder and twitch.
The spinning slowed, and I took some deep breaths. He lapped at my relaxed hole gently, stroking my thighs.
“You’re still dressed,” I muttered, hoarse after all the ecstatic yelling.
“Mhmm.”
With his mouth on my rim, he shrugged out of his shirt, a button clattering on the tiles. The sound of a belt buckle hitting the floor followed.
He rose, finally naked, and he was glorious. Night lights glowed on his muscular body; the grand shoulders, amazing pecs, and a freaking eight-pack. Did he live at the gym? I barely caught a glimpse of his thick cock before it was digging into me.
Oh, the long slide in. He was hard. And yes, that’s a given when an alpha is aroused, but Ernest’s cock was the definition of rock solid.
Like warm stone covered with a thin sheet of softest velvet.
The crown was so firm I felt every inch of the path it made along the front wall of my hole, stroking over my gland with laser-like precision, and when I arched from the miraculous sensation, the tip rested against the sealed opening deep up my hole—the mouth to my womb.
Ernest filled me to the brim. Our bodies slotted together like a key into a lock, and we moaned in unison.
He was perfect.
I hadn’t had sex this good since…well, ever.
He stayed for a moment, lodged in me, and kissed me with disconcerting focus.
Like it was all he ever wanted to do. I tasted traces of my slick on his lips, and it was hot as hell.
Then he moved, slow at first, just small thrusts deep in me, poking at my suddenly very interested womb.
I was between my first and second heat. By all counts, that organ should be coiled and asleep, but this man’s dick roused it, and every cell in my guts was on board.
Ernest prolonged his thrusts, giving me his impressive length from root to tip and back, and my insides buzzed with joy.
He hit the target, like one hundred points, bingo, success on each thrust, and under the assault on the most sensitive spot in my body, something changed in me.
Something new and exciting awoke deep inside me, and colorful fantasies sprouted in my mind.
Since I felt completely safe, I let myself enjoy them.
I imagined Ernest fucking that sealed gate open, lodging his cockhead in the narrow channel, and flooding my womb with his cum.
Which was impossible outside of heat, but my sex-muddled brain loved the idea.
On the next thrust, Ernest pressed right there again, and whoa!
A mini orgasm fizzled through my guts, and the sweetest sense of satisfaction lingered in my belly. I wanted more.
A harmless fantasy didn’t hurt anyone, right? I tilted my hips up, and he hit the spot at an even better angle, and aaaah…mmm… I let myself drown in the bliss. Yeah, bust me open. Shove your beautiful dick in there and cum into my womb. Breed me. Yes. Fucking breed me… Oh wow. I liked that.
While I didn’t actually want to get knocked up and have a kid, the idea of this man thoroughly inseminating me turned my crank. That was new. I realized I was smiling while pleasure sizzled in my very center and Ernest’s cock pushed that big red button over and over.
“You’re intoxicating. I can still taste your slick. Like a fucking drug.”
“Can’t get enough of your cock. Harder.” Go deeper. Impale me all the way and cum in me. Breed me. Yes. Oh yes!
“You want more?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. He braced himself on the back of my thighs and slammed into me, grunting.
And just like that, he sent me into orbit.
Fireworks. Literally. Just as my body exploded, so did the sky.
It must have been midnight because above us thousands of colorful lights blossomed into an outrageous spectacle.
I threw my head back. My hole fluttered and pulsated, clenching on the amazingly hard cock.
Waves of heat flared from my womb one after another, and my harmless little fantasy fueled my orgasm.
Fill my womb with your cum. Knock me up.
Oh please, knock me up! How was it even possible to come harder than I already had?
The peak crested and simmered, spilling into my arms and legs. Even my face tingled.
Through the thin slits of my eyes, I watched Ernest lose it.
Beautiful. His muscles bulging, painted with the flashing fireworks, he fucked me with enough power to break the chair under us.
My body relaxed, my flesh yielding, the oversensitive nerve endings welcoming every rough fuck with fanfare.
My nipples ached deliciously, and I pictured white milk bubbling up at the tips.
Drowning in ecstasy, I dreamed about my womb unfurling and swallowing this man’s cock, about being bred so completely and so many times my stomach would be bloated.
The sensations in my core grew electric when I imagined Ernest’s cum in my womb.
Before he was done, I was swept up into yet another climax while the sky crackled and blazed.
I shivered, my heart sprinting, as he slumped over me.
He rained kisses down my throat and into the crook between my neck and shoulder.
Staring at the bright lights flying across the night sky, I tried to burn this moment into my memory.
Something told me this was it; this man was the peak of my sex life.
Very slowly, he pulled out, and my insides quivered before relaxing. Incredible as it seemed, I felt his cum. Every nook and cranny inside me was coated with the soothing, creamy liquid. I visualized the sealed opening to my womb covered with it, and I shuddered with an aftershock of pleasure.
Yep, the results were in, and it was official; I’d developed a breeding kink.
Anyway, how the hell did this man produce so much seed? It was like a flood in my hole. Admittedly, some of it was my slick, but still.
“Fuck,” I said philosophically.
Ernest snorted out a half-laugh. “Couldn’t have expressed it better.”
“We’re really good at this.”
Kissing my nipple, he nodded, then grinned devilishly up at me. “We’re excellent at fucking.” Another kiss on the nub, a teasing hint of teeth. “You bring out the best in me. You’re blowing my mind, Lawrence.”
I sighed happily, and he gently bit my nipples, alternating sides and making me squirm. Had they ever been this receptive? He kneaded my thighs, and I had still to lower my legs. I didn’t want the cum to leak out.
“I’m afraid you might have to shower again,” he murmured before brushing his lips down my stomach and licking the few drops of my cum around my belly button.
Nope. I wasn’t giving up the unique sensation of his seed in me—not hot or cold, just there, abundant and deeply fulfilling, like my hole had been starving, and he fed it.
“How much do you worry about your sheets?”
“They’re washable. Why?”
“I don’t want to shower. I want to keep your cum in my hole.”
Because I’ve gone batshit from too much sex and I want to fall asleep imagining you’ve impregnated me.
He flashed me a toothy smile. “I like that. I like that a lot.” He suckled on my softening dick, kissed my balls, placed one chaste kiss right on my tingling rim, and the next second, I was airborne.
Ernest carried me through the kitchen and living room area into his bedroom.
The bed must have been custom-made. It looked bigger than a king size, much bigger.
He laid me in the middle, brought two glasses of water, and cuddled me into his lap.
Already zoning out, I smiled. The warmth from Ernest’s big body seeped into mine.
His cum felt truly amazing. Suspiciously so.
I was in a strange man’s bed, more fucked out than I could ever remember being and blissfully content.
Too content. Like every cell in my body quietly buzzing, brain mushy, bones gooey—that level of gratification.
It was so bizarre I should have been freaking out, but instead, I drifted on cloud nine.
Muted by the closed window, the New Year’s celebratory booms and bangs served as a lullaby, and I fell asleep like an overtired kitten.