Chapter 7 Harriet
SEVEN
HARRIET
There are several reasons I prefer to date older men, one being they’re usually more experienced.
Guys my age lack a certain finesse in the bedroom.
It could explain why my relationship with Peter in the bedroom was unfortunate.
It took a GPS device, a compass, and the position of the sun to help him find the clit.
Oh, and he was a cheating scumbag.
When Warren and I stumbled into the motel room, uncertainty flashed across his face. Maybe he wasn’t as into it as me. Then, I recognized it for what it really was: nerves.
Without a backstory, there’s no knowing where it stems from, and this evening wasn’t about finding out. Instead, I offered him an olive branch in the form of bedroom kinks, which he accepted graciously.
Now, my throat is raw, lips swollen, and skin flushed to perfection.
Warren might have hesitated at first, but the man certainly needed little encouragement to take charge once given the green light.
My boots don’t get the chance to touch the floor before I’m tipping backward, the springs of the lumpy mattress creaking as I land with a soft thud.
Then, he’s there, large, naked body covering mine.
The coarse hairs on his chest tickle my exposed breasts, and his length sits hot and heavy between my thighs.
The dress is already in tatters, his movements not gentle as he unties the strings of my bodice, yanking the remaining scraps of material off until I’m in only my underwear. He kneels between my spread thighs, gripping the scratchy comforter until his knuckles turn white.
His untamed eyes trek over every inch of my body.
“You’re absolutely stunning.” He runs a finger up the inside of my thigh and hooks it under the lace of my panties. “So wet too. Is this from riding my hand or sucking my dick?”
“Both.”
I gasp as he tugs upward, wedging the soaked material between my pussy lips. Wiggling my hips, I seek more friction.
He shakes his head, voice deep. “Ah-ah. It’s my turn now. Lie back, feet flat on the bed.”
I do as he says, trembling in anticipation.
“There we go.” He presses a kiss to my knee. “Keep them open. Eyes on me.”
It’s impossible to look away, especially when his mop of dark hair lowers and the scruff of his jaw scratches my sensitive skin. Pressing his face to my crotch, he inhales deeply, and the hungry, baritone groan that vibrates from his chest is carnal.
“Ooh. Yes.” My voice wobbles on a half-cry when he swipes the flat of his tongue from bottom to top before twirling it over my clit through the lace. One pass, and he’s snapping the flimsy material at my hip before flinging it across the room.
He stares up at me. “Bra off. I want to watch those gorgeous tits bounce as I fuck you with my tongue.”
I quickly unclasp my bra. They’ve never been my greatest asset, but from the fire burning in Warren’s eyes, he approves. Definitely a boob man.
“Now you owe me a new dress and new underwear,” I tease while settling back into position, bearing myself fully to him.
He lowers to his stomach, a sly grin pulling at his mouth. “Tonight, I’ll give you anything you want.”
My hoarse cry fills the otherwise silent room as he buries his face into my pussy. No gentle introductions—he instantly devours me. Stiffening his tongue, he circles my entrance once before thrusting forward, making good on his promise.
“There we go. I knew you’d sing for me, Harriet.” I barely hear him over my desperate moans. “Don’t hide those pretty noises from me, sweetheart.”
Warren sucks, nibbles, and licks with determination.
Oral sex is one of the few ways a man can get me off, but it’s never happened this quickly. My arousal soaks the bedsheets, and a warm trickle, thick like honey, journeys through my body from deep within my core.
“I’m close. God, I’m close already.” My arms give out, shoulders hitting the mattress.
He pauses.
“No,” I whine, raising my head to scowl at him. “Don’t stop.”
“Eyes. I want to see the exact moment you come in those pretty blues. Be a good girl for me.” He strokes a hand up my ribcage and cups my breast. “Then, I’ll give you my cock.”
Pleasing him becomes fundamental. Balancing on my elbows, I watch as his head lowers again. This time, he lavishes my swollen clit with quick flicks of his tongue.
“Holy shit. Don’t stop.” I thrust my hips in time with his wicked mouth. “I’m c-coming. Shit, Warren, I’m coming.”
My orgasm races toward me at warp speed and lasts for an eternity.
“That’s it. Give it all to me,” he murmurs into my flesh.
Not once do we break eye contact. The top of his chocolate curls, dark brows, and severe gaze are all I see from between the apex of my thighs.
It’s overwhelming. Intense.
Before I look too deep into it, Warren wrenches his mouth away and crawls over me. I reach between our trembling bodies and fist his stiff length, pumping it before lining him up at my entrance.
He starts to push forward when he goes rigid. “Condom. Shit, please tell me you have a condom.”
I roll my lips over my teeth.
“Fuck.” His forehead drops to my shoulder. “I didn’t plan on having company this evening.”
We’re silent and I weigh up our options before vocalizing them. “I’m on birth control, and my last test came back negative. I’m okay to go without if you are.” I wait, gauging his reaction.
He raises his head. “You’re sure? I’m, um…” He looks off to the side. “It’s been a while, but I’m good too.”
Cupping his jaw, I center his gaze. His eyes widen slightly when I lean forward and press my mouth to his. “Like I said, I trust you.”
He nods once, and, with my fingers still wrapped around his hot length, I guide him inside.
I suck in a sharp breath at the first few inches. He’s big, stretching me with the perfect balance of pain and pleasure. The tendons in his neck pull taut, throat working hard as he rocks into me gently.
“Goddamn. So tight.” He rolls his hips gently. “Do you want more?”
I jerk my head up and down. “Please. I want it all.”
“Yeah?” He hooks an arm behind my knee and pushes it toward my chest, deepening the angle. “And you’ll take it all, won’t you?”
He snaps his hips forward, and the entire motel must hear my scream as he fills me to the brim. The pace he sets is brutal, taking, taking, taking with each powerful thrust.
The slapping of our skin and ragged breaths is an ecstasy-orchestrated symphony. My body hums, singing in tune with his.
And the crescendo is magnificent.
He smashes our lips together at the first pulse of his orgasm. I’m so blinded by the pleasure, I’m unaware my second is cresting until it bombards me. I shake and tremble and cry under him, his sweat-soaked chest sliding against my breasts.
Minutes pass until we move again.
Molten eyes and a lopsided smile appear from the crook of my neck, somehow appearing younger. “Are you okay?”
“Hmm.” I moan and clench around his half-hard cock. “More than okay.”
He hisses but doesn’t remove himself. I bite my lip when his cum trickles down my thigh.
“Stay. Until the morning,” he quickly adds. “I’ll drive you home.”
Staying over is fine. There are no specific rules about what you can and can’t do during a one-night stand. From the way his dick twitches, I suspect we won’t be doing much sleeping.
Smirking, I ghost my lips over his. “Think you have another round left in you?”
He chuckles. “Give me ten minutes.”
Then, he’s rolling us, and, with deft movement, he maneuvers my pleasure-weighted body until my thighs bracket his head.
“But for now, sit that pretty pussy down while I recharge.”
“Here is fine.” I point to a spot a few buildings away from my apartment.
Warren flicks his turn signal and parks his truck.
We glance at each other from across the console. He looks as tired as I feel—to be expected, since we stayed awake until 4 a.m.
There’s a beard rash on my thighs and breasts, my entire body aches, and before he pulled on his T-shirt this morning, I spotted claw marks on his back. I’d say a night of no strings was successful.
“It’s a nice town,” he muses, staring through the windshield. “I’d ask if you visit the city much, but I think that’s breaking the rules.”
I laugh, grateful we’re on the same page, and tug at the sleeves of the white dress shirt he gave me. “I should offer to mail you your shirt, but that would also be breaking the rules, huh?”
“Keep it. Looks better on you anyway.”
A handshake feels too formal after the things we did to each other last night, and before I overthink it, I lean over and press a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks for a great evening, Warren. It’s definitely been a very memorable birthday.”
“Thank you for turning what I was certain was going to be an awful night into an incredible one.” His dark eyes sparkle, less somber than when we first met. “And for giving me the perfect excuse to escape my brother’s annoying work buddies.”
My exhale is happy and sated. “Well, goodbye then.”
He dips his chin. “Good luck with the music. Maybe one day, I’ll hear your songs on the radio.”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
His engine roars to life when my feet hit the sidewalk. Turning, he waves goodbye, and I watch until his taillights disappear.
That night, the muse to my lyrics is a dark-haired stranger with sad eyes and a story to tell.