Chapter 29
Watching Eliza come apart in his arms was the most erotic sight Fisher had ever seen.
And hearing her scream his name had changed something inside him. He wasn’t sure what. All he knew was that there was the Fisher who had existed before. And there was the Fisher who existed now.
And this Fisher? Oh, this Fisher had big plans.
Plans that started with him kissing every bit of her decadent body until he’d learned each curve with his lips and explored every dip with his tongue. Plans to learn her with his mouth the way he’d learned her with his hands in the shower.
Laid out naked atop his sheets, she looked like a goddess. All pale skin and black hair and exotic eyes that sparkled with desire in the low glow given off by his lone bedside lamp. And the way she responded to him, to his every whispered word, every stroking touch, made himfeel like a god.
He realized he was staring, letting his gaze drink in every luscious inch of her, when she cupped his jaw and whispered, “I want to make love with you now, Fisher.”
Make love.
Not screw or fuck or bone or bang. But make love.
Had he ever made love to a woman? He racked his brain and came up empty. He’d fucked slowly and sensually. He’d screwed desperately and passionately. But never had he slept with a woman for whom he had feelings beyond a general appreciation and fondness.
He had feelings for Eliza.
Lots of them.
He might not have the one she wished for. But he sure as shit had all the others. Respect, admiration, acceptance, trust, connection… The list went on.
So yeah. We’ll make love.
“Soon,” he promised, watching the way her nipple puckered when he gently cupped her breast and ran his thumb over the tip. He loved her puffy areolas, how they crinkled up like discarded holiday wrapping paper anytime her nipples tightened. “But first I want to taste ya, darlin’. Taste every sweet inch of ya. Is that okay?”
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “Oh.” She waved a hand and feigned indifference. “I suppose so. If you must.”
He squeezed her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. A tiny rebuke. She gasped and he watched delightedly as a blush stole up from her chest to stain her cheeks.
Ahhhh, he thought. One more item to add to my growin’ list of things Eliza likes.
“Should I start now?” he whispered against her skin as he skated kisses from her arched neck down to her breast.
“Yes.” Her fingers curled into his hair when he sucked her nipple between his lips and tongued the hard little nubbin to the top of his mouth.
He set about implementing his plan. There wasn’t an inch of her that didn’t receive the attention of his teeth, lips, and tongue. Sometimes he licked. Sometimes he laved. And sometimes he sucked. Her breasts, her belly, the jut of her hip bones were mapped by his appreciative mouth.
She held her breath when his face hovered above her sex. He dragged in the smell of hot, healthywoman. But he didn’t put his mouth on her. Oh, no. He still had her legs to explore. The turn of her ankles. The delicate skin behind her knees. The soft flesh on the inside of her thighs.
By the time he settled his broad shoulders between her spread legs, she was whimpering and mewling. Sweat dewed her delicate skin, and her sex was overripe and melting in front of his eyes.
Goddess…
“Put your mouth on me, Fish.” Her hips arched impatiently. “I can’t stand it a second longer.”
“I’ve had my mouth all over ya, darlin’.”
“You know what I mean.” She pumped her hips again. “Please.”
“Lemme hear ya say it.”
She lifted her chin. Her lids were lowered to half-mast, the definition of bedroom eyes. And when she spoke, her words were the definition of seduction. “Lick my pussy, Fisher. Tongue my clit until I cream.”
He growled, the sound seeming to come up from the depths of his soul. “With pleasure, darlin’.”
Her feminine flesh was pink and slick with desire. Her little clit was swollen and peeking from beneath its hood. Lowering his mouth to her most delicate flesh, he set about torturing it with his tongue.
Her voice was rough as her nails bit into his scalp. “God, yes, Fish. Just like that.”
He settled in to truly feast, watching the way she threw her head back against the pillows, paying attention to how she unconsciously played with her own breasts, tweaking her nipples and rubbing them between her fingers.
Is there anything sexier than a woman who participates in her own pleasure? he wondered. If so, I’ve yet to find it.
Time and space had no meaning as he flicked and sucked and paid special attention to what made her catch her breath and writhe beneath him. It wasn’t long before she began to make the climb.
She caught his hair in her hands to press his mouth harder against her, to aid herself in rubbing her delicious sex against his happily working tongue.
Her smell was tart and clean.
Her taste was tangy and sweet.
When he glanced up to check her progress, the lamplight bathed her breasts and belly in a golden glow. And he was reminded of a poem he’d recently read by Pablo Neruda. “I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your body.”
She was a sunbeam. And he was ravenous. Not to mention the way she was riding his face in abandon was so unbearably erotic that he had to press his dick into the top sheet to keep himself from humping his way to orgasm.
He was so swollen and achy, his balls so hard and needy. It wouldn’t take much to send him over the edge.
“Fisher,” she gasped when he slid two fingers inside her and set up a steady rhythm. “God, yes. I’m so close.”
She blindly thrust her hips to meet his fucking fingers. And when she finally flew over the edge, he held still inside her, marveling at the hard, quick contractions of her vaginal walls. Loving the way she screamed his name until it ended on a shattering moan. Breathing deeply the smell of her arousal until it’d coated the inside of his nose the way the taste of her coated the inside of his mouth.
She shuddered against him over and over, her thighs clamped tight around his ears, her legs shaking as wave after wave of pleasure continued to roll through her. And then…
She collapsed.
Her hands fell away from his hair to lay palm-up on the bed. Her thighs let go of their vice grip around his head. And her breath shuddered out of her on one long, windy sigh.
He crawled up to lay beside her.
Her raven hair was a wild tumble across his pillow. Her chest rose and fell in quick succession. And her face was absolutely glowing.
Petting her softly, he ran a single finger over her collarbones, her ribs, briefly delving into her belly button as she slowly returned from the heavenly heights of orgasm and once more inhabited the earthy plane.
When her eyes blinked open, he noted they were still unfocused. “Ya—” She had to stop, clear her throat, and try again. “You’re quite good at that.”
He nuzzled her neck because he loved how warm her skin was there, how it held on to that ephemeral bergamia tree scent that was uniquely Eliza. “So are you, darlin’.”
She chuckled. “Only with you.”
“That’s the second time you’ve said that.” He pulled back and watched her eyes find his and focus. “But ya don’t have to pander to my ego. I know you’ve had lovers before.”
She cocked her head on the pillow. Her tone was the one she used when they tiffed.
“Since when have you ever known me to pander to your ego?” He opened his mouth to respond, but she raced ahead. “When you tell me I’m a temptress, I can assure you, it’s only with you. Because no one before you has ever given me the opportunity to play the role.”
“What do ya mean?” He frowned.
“I mean, my previous lovers”—just the thought of her with another man was enough to have the prickly legged thing growling with murderous intent—“didn’t really give me a chance to be…” She trailed off as she wrinkled her nose. “Sexy,I guess. It’s always been so fast and furious that I just sort of went along for the ride.” Now she grimaced. “No pun intended.”
He was still confused. Is she sayin’ she’s gotten to the ripe old age of thirty without ever havin’ good sex?
Her next sentence confirmed it.
“As for being good at having orgasms, I’ll admit to having perfected the art when I’m alone. But with a partner? I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve been able to finish with a man.”
“Bullshit.” The two syllables were out of his mouth before he could stop them. He added more diplomatically, “I can’t believe it. Your body is so responsive.”
She made a face. “No one has ever…paid attention the way you do. Until today, it’s been my experience that men go through the motions of foreplay as quickly as possible to get to the ol’ in-and-out.” She made a rude gesture with her fingers that had his lips twitching. “Then I’d just…” She waved a hand.
“Just what?”
“Finish myself off whenever they left the room.”
The thought of her having to give herself her own pleasure when she was so easy to please left him dumbfounded.
He side-eyed her. “How many partners have ya had?”
It couldn’t have been many. Because men couldn’t be that selfish and unskilled, could they? Surely his gender was better than that at knowing what women liked.
She blushed to the roots of her hair. Considering what he’d just been doing to her, he found it adorable that such a simple question might embarrass her.
“How many partners have you had?” she countered.
“Dunno.” He shrugged. “I stopped countin’ ’bout a decade back.”
She blanched. “You’re not serious.”
“Promiscuity and military service go hand-in-hand. I’m not proud of it. But I’m not not proud of it, either. It just is.”
Her upper lip curled. “So you’re saying I should’ve made you get an STI panel before I decided to take you up on this whole FWB thing?”
He shook his head. “You’ve seen my most recent physical. Ya know I’m clean.”
She harrumphed. And the way her bottom lip stuck out was impossible to resist.
He leaned down to rub a soft kiss against her mouth, got caught up in the way she tried to resist him and couldn’t, and realized they were once again making out like horny teenagers when, minutes later, she fisted his hair in her hands and pulled back with a gasp.
“See?” She panted, licking her kiss-swollen lips. “It’s you. You’re the one with all the skill and expertise. And no wonder since you’ve had so much practice.”
He probably shouldn’t like the note of jealousy in her voice. He did.
“Ya want to keep talkin’ ’bout this? Or ya want me to finally get around to makin’ love to ya like I promised?”
She touched a finger to the side of her pursed mouth and pretended to ponder his question. Then she sighed. “The second, I suppose. Because the former makes me want to clamp your balls in a vice until you beg for mercy.”
He chuckled. “Considerin’ I plan to use my balls, let’s not do that.” Then he set about working her back into a frenzy. In doing so, he worked himself into a frenzy. Because despite what she claimed, she was a sexy temptress.
She met him kiss for kiss, ran her hands all over his body, squeezed here and rubbed there, used her own body in a sensual, undulating way as if she’d been in the business of seducing men for decades.
“Please, Fisher,” she begged when he laved one nipple with his tongue and rubbed the other in a slow circle with his thumb. “I can’t stand it anymore. I need you in me.”
Thank the lord.
He needed to be in her too. He’dneeded to be in her since the moment she stepped into the shower.
Rolling away, he delved into his bedside table and yanked out a condom. He had it open and fisted down his swollen length in under three seconds.
When he turned back to her, it was to find her skin hot and damp from desire. Her eyes glittered with passion. And her thighs spread so he could see her pussy was ripe and open, ready for him.
He was so hard, he stood almost vertical. And when he positioned his hips between her legs, he though he might cum just looking at her lying there, a willing offering.
Grabbing her hand, he guided it to his throbbing cock. “Put me inside ya now, darlin’.”
She whimpered when her fingers wrapped around his thick base. Then she worked her hand up his length, following every pulsing vein, exploring the crest around his swollen head before firmly fisting him and pumping twice. He was the one doing the whimpering then.
He fucked into the clasp of her hand. He couldn’t help himself. It felt so damn good. But he quickly stopped because, as much as he wanted to let her flex her sexual siren’s muscles, he couldn’t hold back much longer.
“Have mercy, Liza,” he begged, feeling a bead of sweat slip from his temple down to his jaw.
Her lopsided smile was one-hundred-percent pure enchantress as she slowly guided him to her entrance. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to play with her breasts. He wanted to do all the things he knew he was supposed to do in that moment. But all he could do was watch as she placed his swollen tip against the opening of her vagina.
Where she was pale, he was tan. Where she was soft, he was unbearably hard. While her pubic hair was inky black, his was medium brown.
The contrasts alone were erotic enough to have his eyes threatening to roll back in his head. And then she slowly, subtly raised her hips until his meaty head disappeared inside her and he realized that was the definition of erotic.
Tight.
Hot.
Slick.
He gasped at the same time she did and lifted his chin just enough to see that she was watching too. Watching the place where they were joined. Enjoying the view of his thick, purple dick being welcomed into the glistening pink folds of her body.
“That’s…” She didn’t finish, simply shook her head in awe.
“Yeah,” he agreed, his muscles quaking as he held himself back from slamming into her—which was what his body begged him to do. Just rut and fuck and stroke in a hurried, frenzied rush that would send him over the edge in mere minutes and relieve the terrible ache in his testicles. But that sort of satisfaction would be fleeting. And what he wanted was something long-lasting.
He hadn’t allowed himself to think about it but, just as she’d said, friends with benefits implied an ending. At some point, they would stop the benefits and go back to being simply friends. When that happened, he wanted a million-and-one fantasies to look back on, to take out and enjoy on the nights when he was quiet and alone, to cherish for…well…very likely the rest of his life.
With that future in mind, he ignored his baser instincts and instead focused on memorizing every single detail of their joining. The way her body welcomed him, inch by slow, delicious inch. The way she fisted the sheets into knots in her hands and groaned once he was halfway home. The way she pressed her heels into the mattress and humped her hips up at him until he was seated to the hilt, the head of his dick mashing hard against her cervix.
They both hissed then. With sweet relief. With hot pleasure.
It took everything he had to remain still. To give her time to adjust.
Sweat beaded his brow. His voice was like gravel when he asked, “Y’okay?”
She opened her eyes and framed his face with her hands. Her expression was full of desire. “You feel amazing.” She wiggled her hips, stirring him inside her. “And that feels even better.”
Understatement.
It felt fan-fucking-tastic.
“And what about this?” he teased, slowly sliding out an inch before firmly reseating himself.
Her eyes rolled back in her head. Her feet found purchase on his calves, her heels tucking themselves into the bend of his knees.
“Yes, Fish,” she murmured, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. “Just like that.”
It was all the encouragement he needed.
Claiming her lips, he used his tongue to mate with her mouth in rhythm to the stroke of his hips. With each withdrawal, she moaned. With each return, she sucked in a ragged breath.
Eliza was tight and hot and soft and wet. Everything a man dreamed of. Everything a woman was meant to be.
He found the tempo that had her pussy milking him. Found the angle that rubbed his pubic bone against her swollen clit. And soon they were both panting.
“Fisher!” Her fingers clung to the divot in his back where his muscles bracketed his spine. “Yes.”
There was that word again.
Favorite word in the English language.
He could feel the tension in his balls, his ejaculate begging for release. But Eliza wasn’t ready. The two orgasms she’d already had meant he’d need to work for this one.
Releasing her mouth, he ducked his head to suck her breasts, rolling her nipples with his tongue, reveling in the way her core tightened.
Pressing up on his arms, he looked down to the place they were joined. Saw the way her juices glistened on his dick when he pulled out. Took great pleasure in the way his balls slapped her ass on each downstroke.
“You’re so fuckin’ sexy,” he breathed, fixing his mouth to her throat so he could feel the hammer of her pulse against his tongue.
“I want to feel you cum in me, Fish,” she panted. “I want you to fill me up.”
Fuck me, he thought. Hearing classy, elegant Eliza talk dirty did things to him.
He lengthened his strokes. Strengthened his thrusts. And that did it because she went from panting to mewling. She went from running her hands across his nipples and down his abs to gripping his shoulders desperately as her legs clamped around his waist.
“Come on, darlin’,” he gritted into her ear. “Fight for it and it’ll happen.”
Their sweat-slick bodies worked desperately, each giving and receiving pleasure. And it was everything he had ever wanted—only more.
Her hips went wild, humping like crazy, grinding desperately.
He could feel the strength of what was building inside her. Hear the harsh sound of her breath. Smell her growing arousal perfuming the air around them.
She was driving herself to the brink and taking him with her. And when he went he knew his was going to be blown to dust, reduced to atoms. When he went it was going to be unlike anything he’d experienced before.
“Fisher!” Her cry was one of frustration.
He knew what to do.
Snaking a hand between their bodies, he found her hard little clit and pressed it with his thumb, worked it in a delicate circle.
Her hands fell from his shoulders to gather up the sheets at her sides. He pulled back slightly to check her progress and saw her whole body was pink and her nipples were so hard they looked like little stones.
She chanted yes over and over, her head thrashing against the pillow, her lashes fluttering frantically. Then it hit.
Her sweet pussy grabbed his dick so hard he thought he’d lose the condom on his retreat. And when he slammed back into her, he felt each hard spasm that rippled through her sheath.
She didn’t scream his name this time. It sort of sighed out of her as her body convulsed around his. And that’s when his own release found him.
He gritted her name between his teeth as he drove home one final time, pouring himself into her. Endless jets of ejaculate ripped up from his balls to explode from his pulsing dick.
It was heaven.
It was hell.
It was a pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.
And it seemed to last forever. Just when he thought he was finished, her womanhood would ripple around him and another spurt of semen erupted from the tender head of his cock. But eventually, finally, they lay still. And the rasp of their ragged breathing was the only sound that filled the room.
If that’s not makin’ love,he thought when his synapses started firing again, then it’s the closest I’ll ever get.