31. Chapter 31
Idon’t deal in denial. I didn’t pretend I was the injured party when I went to prison for killing a man. I didn’t blame it on him, or my lousy upbringing, or the system. I did it, I paid the price, it changed me, and I accept that.
Which is why, when I map the face of the beautiful woman in front of me, I get confused. I tell myself she’s a nightmare that will upend the world I’ve so carefully constructed. She’s bossy, pushy, outspoken. Yet, she also has guts, an insightful view of the world, and she wants me for me. It’s not for my looks; I’m passable at most. Other women want me, but it’s for the cache, the excitement of a lifestyle. They don’t see my steadiness - it would bore them. They don’t see my fear, my insecurities. They want something they think I can give them. It’s fleeting though; in the moment, not the future.
Before X blew into my life, I didn’t look ahead. Didn’t see what could be, never thought about what I might want. I don’t know if it’s love but it’s something bigger than me. I see her and every other woman fades. I stayed with Casual Chrissy because she was steady, an anchor. Someone who opened her door and warmly welcomed me inside. Catered to me.
Not like X who promises to clean up the spilled milk and pick up the towels. She’s sincere, but it wouldn’t be a permanent change. Like me. I’ll never change my hatred of apartments and elevators. I’ll never stop wanting square corners and freedom from clutter. I could make promises to her and maybe I should. She’s the smart one, not resisting. She’s the forgiving one. I’m the shithead.
I’m staring too long at her sweet body, her pretty face, the way her long, dark hair cascades down her back like a warm wave on a tropical beach. She holds my eyes, trying to see past my stony exterior, then drops them with a flush. I know then, know what I’ve known from the minute I met her. She’s my one; the woman I never wanted, didn’t look for. She’s the one I can’t live without.
I stand and haul her off the couch, then off her feet, holding her by her biceps as I carry her out of the living room over to the bed. I practically throw her on it, then do a full-frontal assault, slamming down on her. That hair, her hair, spreads out in a halo and I yank it up in my fist and?—
“Ow! Just a second.” She wiggles underneath me, lifts her shoulders and slides her hair out from under her back. “I’m hair sensitive.”
“X,” I say on a choke. She’s what I want, who I want.
She looks up at me with her big brown eyes; they’re dancing the salsa, inviting me to join her. “I’m good now,” she says, cradling my cheeks in her hands. Rough on rough. “Go ahead and pull it.”
I pull it again, this time matching her grin. “Could you shut up.”
She opens her mouth, but I smother her retort with my lips. No chaste kisses like before, no gentle caresses in the dark. This time, it’s needy, hard. And it jolts me, a stun gun set on high, firing through me. Almost rendering me helpless. “Jesus,” I croak as I come up for air.
She raises her head and presses her lips against mine, opening to me, welcoming me inside her sweet mouth. She tastes like the home I never had, syrup on a pancake. Midnight on New Year’s Eve. The excitement, the moment when I know she’s my everything.
My dick turns to stone as I kiss her back, sweeping her mouth with my tongue, inviting her into mine. My hands are roaming under her shirt, squeezing her tits, the mounds, firm handfuls, the nipples like little soldiers waiting for their orders. “Jesus,” I say again. It appears that’s the only word left in my vocabulary.
“God,” she replies as she arches into me. Her legs wrap around me as she presses her pelvis into mine. She gyrates against me and my balls tighten.
“Don’t!” I almost shout as I jerk away from her.
Her eyes get wide. “What?”
I’m embarrassed. I almost came. Another miracle for me when sex is a thing, but never like this. I get hard, I go through the motions, I eventually come. I always leave. But this one, I’ll have to go slow or I’ll finish before she gets started. “Let’s go easy. Enjoy the moment.”
She side-eyes me as she sits up and yanks her shirt up over her head in one graceful move. “I am. Just don’t play games with me, Reaper. My heart’s involved.”
It’s pretty. Her words. Short, sweet, and pointed. “I know,” I tell her but I’m distracted by her perfect tits and the fact that she’s not wearing a bra. “I won’t fuck up again.”
She gives me her 100-watt smile, but I barely see it because her tits are beckoning me; they’re as stunning as they are supple. “Jesus,” I whisper. Yep, one-word-Reaper. I slide my hands around the mounds, thumbing the nipples. The brain finally kicks in. “You’re beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she replies like I’ve stated the obvious.
She reaches for my shirt and pulls at it. “I wanna see too.”
I step back and yank off my cut. I almost drop it on the floor but recover at the last moment and drape it over the back of the couch.
“Are you going to hang up your shirt, too?” she says drily.
“Shut up.” I whip the T-shirt over my head, then fling it on top of her shirt, which is in a heap on the floor. “I can be a nightmare too.”
Her eyes are glued to my chest. She’s seen it before but she’s looking at it like it’s the first time. “You’re….” She locks eyes with me as her pink tongue darts out of her mouth and wets her lips. “I’m….”
She’s perfect. I shove her onto her back, undo her jeans and rip them and her panties. Her body’s perfect too, her small, shaved pussy nestled between the vee of thighs, glistening, inviting. I drop to my knees to worship it.
“Don’t,” she says, pushing at my head.
Don’t? I pop my head up, meet her eyes. “Don’t what?”
“You don’t have to do that.” She motions with her head towards her pussy.
“Eat you?” I know I sound stupid, but what the fuck?
“Yeah,” she says as she sits up. “It’s not necessary.”
“I want to.”
She shakes her head. “First of all, no guy really wants to.”
My boner kind of wilts. “You should know me well enough by now to know I don’t lie.”
She kind of rolls her eyes. “I know. But maybe you’re lying to yourself. Like you were about me.”
She has a point but not about this. “No,” I say bluntly as I shove her down on her back.
She pops back up. “Just this morning, you said we weren’t a thing. Soooo.”
I sigh. “We’ve already determined that I’m a pig, an asshole. I’m sorry. I won’t do that again. We’re a thing X. We’re together. Always will be.” Words are spilling from my mouth in a very un-Reaper-like manner. I sound like I’m making promises just to get her in bed. “Can we talk about this later.”
“Yeah. Sorry. I know you’re sincere.”
“Good,” I say as I shove her down. She’s tidy, a tight package, and my big hand splayed across her chest brings my dick back up to full mast. That is until I bring my head back to her pussy.
“Don’t,” she says as she gives my head a shove.
I look up. She’s starting to piss me off. “What are you? Suddenly shy?”
“No,” she says as if I’ve insulted her. “I just don’t….” She stops as she gropes for words. “Men….”
“Men what?” I’m getting irritated because she’s talking about men.
“They’re no good at it.” She bites her lip, then gives me a tight frown, like she’s shoring up for a boxing match. “And they have expectations.”
“I’m good at it,” I say sounding insulted, which I am.
She shuffles her ass away from me and sits up. I’m still on my knees and look like I’m proposing. My dick is fucking hard and I unbutton my jeans to give it some breathing room.
She drops her eyes to my crotch, then back up. “You may think you’re good at it, but in my experience, men aren’t so good at it.”
I curl my fingers around her knees and squeeze. “Do not talk to me about other men you’ve fucked. Not here. Not fucking ever.”
She pushes at my hands, which are leaving imprints. “Ease up, sailor. There haven’t been that many. I don’t do casual because?—”
“You’re a good Catholic girl,” I finish.
She juts her chin. “No. I don’t do casual because I’m a stupid romantic that meets guys and sees kids, dogs, camping. All that garbage.” She shakes her head. “Men don’t really see past the goods though.”
“Where the fuck do you get this shit from? Men are the same as women, all different. Sure, we like tits and ass, but you were looking at my crotch a minute ago like it was gonna rock your world.” Fucking woman. This is what she does to me. Makes me lose my composure. “And I don’t know what the fuck I am, but I don’t do one-night stands or shit like that. If I’m with a girl, I’m with the girl.”
She furrows her brow. “Now, you’re talking about other women.”
“For fuck’s sake,” I huff. My boner is wilting again. “There haven’t been that many fucking women.”
She glares at me. “There haven’t been that many fucking men either.” She stops, counts in her head. “Four!”
I’m both relieved and annoyed. “Four? You had to count for that?”
“Okay,” she mutters. “Five, but that time, we didn’t ever actually have sex so I don’t think that counts. It was as in high school; I was a really good girl back then.”
I return to the topic that started this ridiculous conversation. “Did he lick your pussy?”
“Yeah,” she says with a nod.
“Then it counts.”
“Okay, then. Five.” She purses her lips. “I don’t know if it’s fair to count a guy I didn’t sleep with. And it was only a couple of weeks. And I broke up with him. And it was him, definitely not me. Like tofu.”
I scrub my hands over my face. “What has tofu got to do with it?”
She bites her lip. “We’re getting off topic.”
“No shit.” I shove her onto her back, then yank her ass to the edge of the bed, prop her feet on my shoulders and lower my mouth to her pussy.
“It’s just that.” She pushes my head away again and leans up on her elbows. “You think you’re good at it. All men,” she clarifies. “But you’re not. So then I don’t get turned on, it starts taking too long. You men.” She stops. “Men wonder what’s wrong with me. And it isn’t me. It’s you… uh… men.”
I sigh. “Okay. I get it. But it’s not like that with me. I go down on a woman, she comes.” Now I’m taking about other women again.
She tilts her head and the side of her mouth at the same time. “Right. Because women never fake it.”
“I know when a woman comes.”
“How?”
“Because you spasm. I can feel it.”
“You feel it? You stay down there long enough to feel it?”
This is the most absurd conversation I’ve ever had. “Yeah. I like feeling it.”
She nods. “Okay. But Miguel said that most women are easy comers when they get… you know….” She tilts her head towards her pussy.
Mig-fucking-uel. “Do not say his name to me,” I growl between gritted teeth.
“I’m just saying,” she protests. “I’m not an easy comer.”
I should capitulate; she doesn’t want me to eat her, I should respect it, but I feel like I have something to prove. I’m not every other dick she’s been with. I’m the man she’s going to marry (or so she says) and I’m not going to spend the rest of my life not tasting her.
I splay my hand across her chest and shove her down on her back, raising myself so I’m looming over her. “I tell you what, baby. You give me five minutes….” I stop, think. “No. Two. It’s all I need.” I yank my watch off and stuff it in her hands. “You can even time me.”
She’s got her forehead furrowed, but she’s listening.
“I don’t get you off in two minutes, that’ll be the end of it.”
“Fine,” she mutters. She peers at the watch. “Okay. Starting now.”
“Fuck!” I snarl as I push her hands down on the bed. “It’s part of the foreplay, for Christ sakes! I’m not going to just shove my head between your thighs and start feasting! I’m going to take my time. Kiss you. Touch you. Then lick you.”
She gives me small grin but tightens her fist around my watch. “Okay, but I’m still going to time you when you get down there.”
I shut her up with a hard kiss to her lips,
“You should take your jeans off,” she says, but breathlessly.
“You can fucking wait,” I snarl as I wrap her hair around my hand and use it to pull her head back. Her neck arches up at me, and I bite the side of it.
“Ow!” But this time her exclamation is followed by a gasping release of breath. Her hands slide around my shoulders, her nails digging into the flesh.
I lick the sting away and slide my tongue further down, nipping, licking, nipping licking. I make my way lower, trailing kisses over her breasts, then wrap my lips around one of her hard nipples. I tongue it gently at first then apply a little pressure.
She runs her fingers through my hair, using it to anchor my head. “Oh my God.”
Sure, I think with an inward grin. He always gets the credit. I suck harder, enough to get her body to buck. “Ow!” she says, but it’s followed by a moan and then a low groan.
I ease up, still sucking while my other hand squeezes her breast then gives some attention to the twin sister, pulling at the nipple, pinching it. Then sucking until she bucks her body.
She gasps, yanks my hair. “Shit!”
“Language!”
I give her tits a little more attention before coming back up, grabbing her face and giving her a hard, lingering kiss. Closemouthed at first, then forcing my tongue inside, sweeping her, tasting her. She tries to dart her tongue inside my mouth, but I nip it and it retreats.
“Oowou!” she mumbles.
I bring my head up, meet her eyes. “I’m in charge, baby. Always. Get used to it.”
I kiss her hard again, then start my way back down her body. Neck, first, then tits for a little more play.
She arches her back against me as I run one of my hands down her body, soft, gentle, feathering her skin, gooseflesh breaking out. When I arrive at her pussy, she opens to me. She’s wet. So fucking wet and small, tight as I slide a finger inside her, rubbing, pushing until I find the sweet spot that has her tightening her fingers in my hair, arching her back, making her gasp.
I’m kneeling between her knees now, one finger still inside her, the other sliding through the lips of her pussy, finding her little clit, tiny, hard, begging for attention.
I dart my tongue out. Take a small lick. Her body bucks.
“Okay,” she says on a moan. “Two minutes starting now.”
I chuckle as I blow hot air out at the same time. “You’re a fucking nightmare,” I tell her, but it’s gruff, because my dick is screaming at me. I want to sink into her now, not later, but I have something to prove and I’m on the clock.
My tongue teases her clit as my finger keeps pumping inside her. I can’t shake the image of my dick doing the same thing. Hurry, it says and I start to lap at her like a madman.
Then I have an epiphany. She’s right. It’s what men do. They want to get inside so bad, they go through the motions.
Slow the fuck down, Reaper. I stop licking, bringing my tongue back up to her clit. It’s small, almost hidden. Hard to find, so I spread her with my fingers. Kiss it gently, then a little harder, swirling my tongue, gentle press, hard press, a scrape of teeth.
“Fuck!” she howls, her hands bunching my hair. “Fuck!”
I pull back, blow on the clit, lick around the sides. She’s not just wet, she’s slick now and I add a second finger, gently pressing the two inside. She’s small, I’m careful, but she still jerks.
I start to withdraw, but she pulls my hair. “Don’t you dare,” she says breathlessly.
I grin against her. Yeah, I got her. I curl my fingers inside her, scratching gently at her sweet spot as I tongue her clit.
“God, God, God,” she chants.
I wonder briefly if she’s still timing me.
“I’m gonna come,” she cries and then she does. The waves of her orgasm hit hard, pulsing fast. Her legs stiffen and she wraps them around my head, mashing my face against her.
I lick gently at the tiny bud as it softens and shrinks, as her spasms slow, ebb, then disappear.
“How long?” I say because I’m an egotistical bastard.
“Minute, tops,” she replies, her voice all breathy.
“Want another?” I try to keep the smugness from my voice.
“I want you inside me,” she gasps. “Please.”
“Since you asked nicely.” Her eyes are closed, her neck arched towards the ceiling as she almost reluctantly lets go of my hair.
I stand, yank my jeans off and wrap my hand around my dick, stroking it in anticipation. She takes a peek with one eye as I pull her further up the mattress and kneel between her thighs.
Then they go wide. “Holy,” she says reverently.
All thoughts disappear as she leans up and takes it in her hand, stroking it, her callouses inflaming me as they contrast with the soft skin. “You’re beautiful,” she whispers as she runs her thumb over the head. Her wide eyes meet mine. “I trust you.”
I choke on the emotion that hits me. She trusts me. It’s more than just the sex, being with her like this. It’s her world. She’s letting me hold it, keep it safe. “You can trust me,” I tell her gruffly. I’ve never felt loved, not like this. I want to thank her for everything she is.
I take my dick from her grip and slide it inside her, gently, letting her adjust,
She groans and wraps her legs around my hips, arching into me. “Perfect.”
I hug her to me, arms circling her shoulders, hands gripping her hair, hanging on as I piston my hips. She bucks against me, her fingernails digging into my back, her hands restless, running up and down, charting the muscles, finding my hair, pulling it. And her lips too, kissing my neck, biting my ear.
I try to be careful. She’s solid, but she’s fragile. I didn’t know before, but I can feel her now. Small, vulnerable. I flip onto my back so she’s riding me. I want to see her tits bouncing, her face as she comes.
Her eyes shine like a full moon, the smile on her face lights up the room. They’re locked on me, searching my face, looking for something. Then she finds it as her expression changes, softens, loving. Full of trust. She closes her eyes and tilts her head to the ceiling, quietly keening. Her eyes fly open and she smiles again. An intimate cat-like grin.
I’ve never made love to a woman before. It’s always been fucking. But as my strokes get harder and faster, as my balls tighten, as the pressure becomes too much, too intense, as the cum shoots out of me, into her, I see it all in blinding color. The house, the kids, even the fucking dog.
She falls forward. Her arms tighten around me. “God, God, oh please,” she begs as her hips move faster. I know the moment she comes. She goes from frenzied to frozen, then the tension leaves her body as she melts into me. “God,” she whispers.
Yeah. No shit.