Chapter 18 #2
I ignore any concerns about leaving bruises and press harder.
The moans grow louder with each roll of her hips until her legs shake, making it hard for her to hold herself upright.
She slumps forward, laying her head on the carpet, her core spasming as I lap up every drop of her release.
With a long exhale, she goes limp, and I ease away so she’s lying on her belly, sated.
When I stand, the sight before me forces a groan from my chest. Nessa, her skirt riding high, revealing the tiniest view of the curve beneath her ass cheeks. She’s so magnificently beautiful.
The word fuck rolls off those pretty pink lips on an exhale.
I crave closeness, desperate to maintain the connection we’ve built. “Can I hold you?” I ask while gathering her in my arms. Her head lolls against my chest as I scoop her up. We ease onto the bed together, spooning.
“Fuck,” she says a moment later, flopping onto her stomach. “That was…” She peers back at me, wearing a small grin.
“As you wish, princess.” I drape myself over her so that my length drags along her tiny ass. As I pull away, she rolls onto her back, popping up on an elbow.
“Nuh-uh.” She wags a single finger at me. “I’m calling the shots here, mister.”
Nodding, I rest on my haunches and wait. She scoots back toward the headboard and lounges, arms wide against the pillows, then beckons me with the crook of a finger. I shuck off my pants and boxers in a single move, then line my body up with hers and press my lips to her ear.
“As you wish,” I whisper.
In response, goose bumps erupt along her skin.
“What if I want to use you for my own gains and deny you the ability to finish with me?”
Mischievous little pixie. I let my grin bloom into a megawatt smile as I continue to kiss up and down her neck.
“Then I focus on what you enjoy, and the minute you go home, I’ll replay every second of tonight while I stroke my cock.”
I nip her earlobe, and her breath hitches.
Clearly surprised by the variety of options, she switches gears. Twisting the bullet vibrator pendant between her fingers, she asks, “So I could just rub myself with this, and you’d watch without complaint? You wouldn’t get jealous?”
“Why would I be jealous? I got it for you. Toys are teammates, doll.”
“I could ride your cock while I did it?” Her brows pull low, like she’s not sure of how I’ll respond.
“Real men are in it for more than just getting off. We’re in it to win the how many orgasms can I give her contest in our heads.”
Laughing, she shakes her head. “You wouldn’t be tempted to say something like…” She drops her voice an octave. “ You don’t need that; you have me? Or I’m more than enough man for women who aren’t …” she drifts off, shutting down the memory it raised.
I brush back the soft golden strands that have fallen in her face, yearning to show her the reverence she deserves, but somehow doesn’t expect, with every touch.
“Listen to me, Ivy. I’m a thirty-three-year-old man. You’ll get one, maybe two, goes out of me in a short window. But with enough hydration, the sky is the limit for you. Forget orgasms being reciprocal. I’m in it to win.”
That admission breaks any returning anxiety, and her laugh brings our bodies closer together.
“So just to confirm, if what I wanted was to…” she drifts off, averting her gaze.
With a finger under her chin, I turn her head so she’s forced to look at me. “Be the one on top and stimulate yourself using the gift I gave you? Yes. You should do that. Fucking hell, please do that. Take what you want from me, Nessa.” It comes out husky, because is she kidding me?
“What if I never give you a blow job, but I expect you to let me ride your face anytime I want, day or night?” She worries her bottom lip, her lashes fluttering.
“Then that’s what we’ll do.” I shrug.
There is no denying she’s very comfortable in her skin when alone. It’s a lack of trust in a partner she’s hinting at. I won’t be like the men who couldn’t be trusted with her body, her pleasure.
I’ll be happy to show her it’s possible. That she deserves that and more.
“You want me to be your on-demand orgasm delivery service in addition to driver? You want me at your beck and call, available any time so you can ride my face and cock, but I don’t get blow jobs? That’s it? Those are all your terms?” I tick this list off without much thought. Works for me.
She’s chewing on a finger and nodding along, a smirk creeping up her face. “And a reminder: nobody but me. Until he’s gone and we end this fake relationship.”
My heart stutters. Game on.
“I’m surprised,” I admit. “You’re always talking to other people about sex, and you read all those romance books, yet you’ve hinted time and again that you haven’t actually had that sort of mind-blowing sex.”
“Mateo, it may come as a shock to you, but reading about sex and having wild sex are not the same.”
With that, I roll over, snag a box of condoms from the nightstand, and toss them to her. “Well, you deserve to have it . What’s next?” I ask.
She deftly tears into the box and pulls out a foil packet while I get situated with my back against the headboard.
With the square pinched between her teeth, she crawls up my body and lines her center up with my erection. She grinds against my shaft but she doesn’t let me in.
She straightens, balancing on her knees, and removes her bracelets. One, then the other, is secured around my wrists overhead. Then she guides my hands down.
I lace my finger behind my head, elbows out, smile wide.
She opens the condom with her teeth while grinding her slick pussy against my length, teasing the fuck out of me.
Then she sheaths me inside the protective cover with her warmth still lubricating me and raises her hips and grinds over me hard and fast a few times.
My smiles fade to breathy requests, my focus locked on the necklace still resting between her tits. “Show me how you’d play with yourself while you ride me, sweetheart,” I bite out.
Filling herself with my swollen cock, she pauses and narrows her eyes. “Sweetheart, doll, princess… you throw all these names around because you never know who you’re with. I am not just some random fuckkk.”
I buck my hips, pulling that last syllable from her on a long groan.
“Fuck me, Ivy. You’re not a random fuck. You are Doctor—” I inhale sharply but force my hips to still. “Nessa. Fucking Rabin. There’s nobody like you out here.”
She continues to look at me pointedly, still not moving, torturing us both.
“Please, Nessa, please. I need to move. I need you to move. Please,” I beg. My smiles are gone, my desire taking over. My spine is tingling, and my balls are drawn tight, my cock painfully hard.
“Good boy.” She pats my chest. “You can move with me.” She rolls her hips, and I thrust up into her, keeping time until we’re a mess of grunts and moans and sighs.
“Holy shit. Fuck, Ivy. I’m close…” I stammer.
She tugs the necklace over her head and taps the button, then holds it against her clit.
As the light vibrations cause her muscles to clench around me, spasming rhythmically, I lose all sense of control.
The world around me falls away, and I spill into the condom.
When my ears stop ringing, she’s still moaning, although the sounds quiet little by little.
I don’t move. She’s still in charge. Eventually, she lifts, and I slip out of her.
When we’re lying side by side, I turn and kiss her temple.
“These cuffs didn’t do much in the way of keeping me secured.” Grinning, I hold up my free hand.
With a huff, she shoves my chest.
“Take them back.” I release the one bracelet still circling my other wrist and hand it to her. “I’ll go toss this and bring you a towel.”
She must be sated because instead of arguing with me, she hums in agreement and buries her face in her pillow.
When I step back into the room a few minutes later, warm wet washcloth and a hand towel with me, she’s asleep, her blond hair fanned around her like a halo.
I slide in and drape my arm over her, taking a full hand of her lace-covered tit.
Without opening her eyes, she turns and nuzzles against my chest.
She whispers, “Oh, fuck. I forgot how much I enjoy that.”
Her breathing evens out quickly from there, but I lie awake for a long time, my nose buried in her golden hair, and inhale her sweet citrus scent—vanilla orange perfume; bright and tangy, just like her—mixed with the sweat and smell of sex that clings to the air.
I fall asleep hoping this is what we need to turn a corner.