Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
WYATT
She looks stressed. Can’t say I’m a fan of that bunched up thing her brows are doing as she slowly stomps up the stairs to her apartment, nose practically pressed to the phone in her hand, clearly absorbed in worries.
Doesn’t take but a split second for me to decide my course of action.
Who else is gonna make that girl feel better if it isn’t me?
Am I just supposed to stand by and let her head spin, her shoulders cave in, her spirit drop, when I’m right fucking here?
Naw, not when she’s doing the hard thing, the right thing, that the lucky majority of us will never have to even consider. She doesn’t deserve the weight of the world on top of that.
Besides, that jean skirt she’s wearing deserves an audience who’ll appreciate it. And that’s not her mom, or Duke.
I drop the pool stick on the felt and step back from the table, which doesn’t make my opponent too happy. “Aw, come on, Grady. At least finish the game,” he whines.
I’ve already beaten him at four in a row tonight. “What, are we gonna make it best of eleven? Give it up. We’ll add it to your tab, my beers’ll be on you another time. Call it a night, old man. Go home to the wife. Be grateful you have someone waiting for you.” I would be, in another life. But that’s not what Fate had in store for me.
I follow Fate, up the stairs, to the room she’s staying in, haunting me from above my favorite haunt.
There’s noises coming from beneath the wood door. Muted, but loud enough for me to hear them. It sounds like … pneumatic brakes and cars honking? Is she watching a movie? Something set in NYC, maybe?
I knock before my head tricks me into thinking there’s someone else in there with her and my blood pressure spikes.
Shuffled footsteps and then the door cracks open, just enough that her face, worn and exhausted—still fucking beautiful—peeks through.
“Wyatt,” she breathes, and maybe I’m crazy, but I think she looks a little lighter than she did when she walked up these stairs a minute ago. It solidifies my plan.
“Saw you come in, thought you might be avoiding me when you didn’t come say hi.” It’s a lie. She didn’t even see me. But I need an in, and that’s mine.
She shakes her head, opening the door wider. “No, no, I’m sorry. It’s been a weird week. Between Mom and work, I’ve just been really wrapped up in my own world.” She runs both hands through her hair, scalp to tip, and fuck do I wanna feel it for myself again. Feel how soft it is, then wrap my fist in it. Twice, even. Always had a thing for her hair.
“You’re good,” I comfort her. It’s my default setting.
“Come in, come in,” she repeats herself, not quite nervous, just maybe unsure, that head of hers is still spinning, I can tell. My turn to step it up, give her a distraction, break that pattern she’s stuck in right now. Only a couple ways I know how to do that, and there’s no nature around right now that I can take her out in, so … I’ll work with what I’ve got.
Aurora steps back into the room and gestures for me to come in. Her bedroom probably isn’t the safest place for the two of us to be alone, the way she’s been on my mind lately, what we shared the last time we were together, and the way she looks right now. That’s a combo that’s only leading one way if my lower head has anything to say about it. And shit, I might still talk myself into it, it’s an effective distraction for her—always has been—but maybe I should at least try something else before convincing myself I’m jumping in her bed to save her from herself. Like it wouldn’t be the best fucking thing to happen to me in years.
“Actually,” I drag the word out, toe the floor of her threshold with the front of my boot. “I was downstairs, looking for a partner to play a game of pool with when you walked in. You busy?”
Her face visibly clears from the stress of a moment ago, and heated flirtation swims through her gaze instead. Much better. “Pool? I could play a round, I guess. It’s been a minute since I’ve played. You might have to refresh me on how to hit a ball to save my life.” Her eyes wander down my Henley, to my jeans as she says it, and I bite my lip at the thoughts written across her face. Fuck, how I’d love to show her some things she’s forgotten.
That’s it, Aurora. Come play with me.
“I got you,” I promise her.
She leads the way downstairs, my hand on her lower back out of habit more than anything—slipping right back into all our old habits—but she doesn’t seem to mind it.
Dallas is breaking down the bar—we must’ve missed last call while we were upstairs just now—but he watches me out of the corner of his eye as we make our way to the game I left abandoned, the nosy fuck. And Duke, from his office all the way across the bar, gives me a scowl that might as well be a neon sign screaming at me not to do anything stupid.
Neither of them realizes I’ve never had a choice when it comes to Rory Weiss.
I’ve been under her spell since I was seventeen. I’ve never had a say in that. Even twelve years of a broken heart can’t keep me away from her, so how the hell is a look from one of them supposed to?
Bottom line is she needs me right now, and I’m not gonna let her down. It’s me that makes her head stop spinning, that tilts her lips up in a smile, that makes her cheeks flush with life. And right now? This girl could use a reason to smile. So I’m gonna give her one.
“First to land the eight ball in the pocket of the other’s choice?” I toss out.
“That doesn’t seem fair.” Her nose crinkles in distaste, but so much of that heaviness I saw on her before is already gone.
“If you’re saying you need a handicap, I’m sure we could work something out …” I let the taunt hang there, deadweight in the air until she takes the bait.
She scoffs and goes on the offensive, ready to negotiate, such a good little lawyer. “You’re the one that probably plays pool every day of his life. You think I hang out in a bar like this back home? You clearly have the advantage here.”
“You could have my advantage, if you wanted to.” I’m such a sucker. Always so quick to offer myself to her. I would’ve never stopped if she hadn’t left. Woulda thought it’d be hard to go that route again, but here we are.
The tip of her tongue comes out to lick her lips. “How so?”
She quirks her brows, drops her eyes down and lets them roam over me, and it’s not the wooden cue stick or any of the balls on the table next to her on her mind when she does. I might not be the kind of book smart she is, but I’m smart enough to know things when it comes to her. The only subject I studied in my high school and college years. She wants more than what she got last weekend on the ATV, but she’s gonna have to show me she wants this before I go any further with her. Even if I know with one hundred percent certainty it’s what she wants, hell, it might be what she needs right about now, I need her to show me this isn’t one-sided.
“I’ll help you hit your shots,” I offer.
That face of hers is so expressive. She screws it up at the offer, clearly not good enough for her. Don’t I know it. “That’s all you got? You’re already hitting your own shots. Barely even a level playing field, much less a handicap.”
“You don’t want a level playing field? You want a leg up over me?”
“Of course I want a leg up over you. I don’t play to get my rocks off, Wyatt. If I’m gonna play, it’s to win.”
I know exactly how she likes to get her rocks off. With me on top of her, in control of her pleasure. If last Saturday was any indication, that hasn’t changed, even if so much else has.
“You want more from me then? You want a better offer?”
Her brows drop back down, and those plump lips tilt up, giving me some of her trademark sass I’ve always been hard for.
“What else you got?” she taunts me, that perfect pout staying open after she says the word, enough for me to stare at her tongue as it finishes making the sound, remember just how good she uses it.
“All right,” I concede, like it’s a hard thing to give into her. Easiest fucking thing I’ve ever known. “I’ll help you make your shots and you get to name the pocket.”
“I’ll tell you where to put it, and you’ll help me sink it?” It’s a clarification, but it sounds more like an order coming from her lips. The confidence in her tone makes my balls tighten, but I keep it together on the surface.
“Deal.” Seal it with an extended hand, offer a shake, but she turns her back on me instead, flipping that long brown hair that didn’t used to have all this blonde in it over her shoulder, and facing the pool table instead. The way she does it, her ass sticks out in invitation, begging my body to mold to hers from behind, move with hers, and she looks back over a shoulder at me impatiently.
“You coming?” Oh, she definitely knows what she’s doing to me, but she’d better not forget I know just what I can do to her too.
“After you.” I gesture to the cue stick for her to grab it off the table, and when she leans forward to do so, I step in behind her, closer than I could’ve had she stayed standing straight up. The front of my thighs to the back of hers. My pelvis to her ass. Denim to denim, or mostly denim to skin with how short that skirt is with her bent over like this.
I hear the breath she sucks in when she feels the contact, and I don’t give her time to adjust as I reach around her to grab the cue that’s in her hands, taking control of the long wooden stick and lining it up against our bodies. My other hand trails up her thigh, all that bare skin beneath the hem of her skirt, and goosebumps break out beneath my touch. It’s enough to get me past half-mast.
Rory doesn’t miss a beat, though. She tilts her head in a quick glance around us to make sure the partial wall that’s behind the stairs leading up to her apartment is hiding this side of the table from the view of the rest of the bar before she encircles her fingers around the stick in our hands. She pumps it a couple of times, bringing her hand back to rest on mine, making sure I felt what she just did in more ways than one.
A low growl rolls in my chest, and I press in even closer, until my scruff is catching on her silky strands, my lips next to her ear. “Careful, Hellcat. You push me, I’ll push you right back.”
“Is that a promise?” Her throaty whisper wouldn’t even make it to my ears if I weren’t consuming the same space as she is right now, but the way my cock stiffens against her ass in response should be her answer.
“Is that what you want?” My voice rumbles in her ear. I part my lips just enough for my teeth to grab onto her soft lobe and pull on it gently. She moans louder than she thinks she does. “You want me to push you down on this pool table and make you come in front of everyone in this bar?”
It’s more of a whimper that leaves her this time, and I feel her legs part ever so slightly before she shifts her hips back and forth, looking for more than she’s got. She’s stubborn, this girl, but there’s only been one time I haven’t known how to give her what she wants, and it’s not tonight.
“Name a pocket,” I order her.
She leans further forward, stretching herself on top of the table, her ass presented to me, nestled against my hardening dick, as she points to a top pocket, obscured by a half a dozen balls. A difficult shot, but I can hit it.
“That hole,” she says playfully, then she leans back just a bit, in position for me to lean over her and take the shot.
“Are you trying to make this impossible on me?” I ask her, and she shrugs against me, our bodies pressed together over the felt.
I guide the stick, our hands atop it, pull it back to aim for the cue ball, and she lets out a noise that still haunts my alone time most nights. This purr-moan hybrid that goes straight to my cock, and my concentration shatters. The cue ball cracks against the other balls, scattering them, but the 8 ball rolls off to the side, no closer to the pocket.
“You realize you just sabotaged your own turn, right?” I ask her, standing back up and allowing her to do the same.
“Oh no, you’re going to have to press up against me again for another shot?” she asks sarcastically, with a pout I know is there even without seeing her face. Her hips back up into me, rotating over my lap and turning this into a show for no one else’s eyes but mine.
My right hand still holding the cue, hers on top of it, I bring my other hand around the front of her body, wrap it around her middle, and grip her just underneath the soft flesh of her breast. Listen to the way her breath catches and quickens before I let my fingers ride the curve of her chest to one of her most sensitive spots. I tug at her nipple over her shirt, over her bra, but she feels it. The way her hips back into mine even harder, her ass rubbing against my dick, tell me that.
“What you got from me wasn’t enough, was it? You’re greedy tonight, aren’t you, Aurora?” I whisper against the side of her head, letting my fingers continue exploring her. “Greedy for a distraction? Or greedy for what I can give you?”
“Why can’t it be both?” It’s a whisper and a plea.
“Is it my fingers you want? Or is it my cock you think about the most?”
My hand wanders, tweaking, teasing along her skin, and she brings her hand on the cue further back up the stick until she’s holding my arm, squeezing me. Her hips rotate against mine, seeking, searching for contact, for friction I can’t give her from this angle. Her fingers and those claws on the tips of ’em, they dig into the skin of my forearm, marking me even through my tattoo there, making me wish her death grip was on a different appendage altogether.
“Which do you want right now, Hellcat? My fingers or my cock?”
“Surprise me.”
I’ll fucking surprise her, all right.
I yank her body backward with me as I take a half a step back, putting just enough space between her body and the edge of the pool table. Use a booted foot to kick her feet apart, spread those legs a little while my eyes do a quick round, make sure no one that’s still in the bar has moved to where they can see us. When my left hand comes back down to press against the front of her pussy, overtop her jean skirt, firm enough she feels it, she takes in a sharp breath, her knees jerk at the contact, and I bite back a smirk.
My lips find her ears so I can whisper to her and her alone. “You should know by now, I’ll give you whatever the fuck you need, all you gotta do is ask me for it. Is that so hard?”
She sucks a breath in between her teeth and manages to slip her left hand in between our bodies to graze my dick, which is now rock hard.
“Feels like it to me,” she murmurs with satisfaction, and it’s time to remind her that I’m the one to come to when she needs her fix. The fun sharing an ATV clearly didn’t do it, but a full night together might just refresh her memory.
My hand closes around her wrist and peels her arm from between our bodies, and I place it on the edge of the table before removing my hand, leaving hers there. She keeps hers in place, like the good girl she can be when she’s got the right inspiration. Bring the pool cue up so it’s vertical and use both hands to place it between her spread legs, firmly. My hips push hers forward until there’s resistance, and I watch over her shoulder as the wood pushes that skirt up, up, up, until it makes contact with her black, silken underwear, and more importantly, what’s beneath it.
The groan that leaves her mouth could be the only thing they play on the radio and I’d tune in twenty-four-seven, as loud as my truck’s speakers can go. It’s throaty, breathy, and there’s something taboo about it.
She’s gonna play this game with me, be too coy to admit to me what she really wants, well, I’m gonna give her everything but what she so desperately needs. I use my hips to move her pelvis back and forth, over the cue stick, rhythmic pressure that drives her wild. The way her hips are starting to gyrate, her legs trembling, those little mewling sounds she doesn’t mean to be making right now, they’re giving away just how badly she wants more than what she’s getting. She’s so fucking turned on right now, she might surprise me and come before I even get her to give in and ask for my cock.
“You ready to give in? Stop being a tease and just admit you want me to take you upstairs and give you what you’ve been missing? This is the only thing we ever got right, Rory, and we might not know how to do to anything else good together, but this? This we know how to do.”
I use my top hand to hold the stick steady and my bottom one to twist it against her, move it against her sensitive little clit as best I can without being down there myself. Must be working, because her head drops down between her shoulders, one hand gripping the stick for dear life, the other using the edge of the table to support her weight as she gives in, riding the stick, my hips as her guide. The pressure and friction against my cock is torture as I roll our bodies, grinding her into the hard surface, side to side, then switch it up when I feel her getting too close.
After one too many near misses, she speaks up again. “And you call me a tease?” It’s more whiny than playful, but this is one area I’ve always known how to give her what she needs. A mental break. Some physical relief, and a release that blows everything else out of her head for now. That’s what I can give her. Nothing else that she deserves, but at least I can do that much for her.
“You want more, Rory, use that mouth of yours and ask.”
She grits out a response through her teeth, and I can barely catch it, but points to her for effort with that sass. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”
“Fuck, look at you right now. A shaking mess for me, in the middle of this bar, and you’re still running that damn mouth like you’re getting paid for it. This ain’t your day job, Hellcat. It’s not your smart mouth I’m after, it’s your cunt.”
Aurora whimpers, and her movements get more frantic, more desperate for release. She’s trying to get what she needs without giving in, but she’s gotta feel so empty right now, those tight walls clamping down around the nothing that’s filling her when it could be me there instead. I hold her close, keep my lips moving against her ear, beard scruff catching on the soft strands covering it as I whisper, “All anyone has to do is look over and they’d see you, about to come before you even got me inside you. You’re probably dripping all over this thing, huh? Fucking needy for me, aren’t you? I wouldn’t even have to spit on this pussy to get it ready for my cock right now, would I?”
“Jesus,” she moans out the word in disbelief. Like she’s forgotten what we’re like together. How well I know this side of her.
Her hips start rocking faster, my dick pressing into her ass, wishing it could slip inside of her, anywhere, really, while we maintain the rhythm.
“You’re really gonna come right here, aren’t you?” I mutter in her ear. “Not even gonna let me take you upstairs and fill you up first? Let me feel you squeeze my cock this time?”
“Shit,” she whispers the word, sounds like she’s panicked. I know that tone. She’s close. Practically gone already. So I push her over.
“If you’re going to come down here in the middle of the bar, the least we could do is let Dallas watch.” She moans, head flopping even further back on my shoulder, body slumping ever so slightly. Guess she still likes the thought of being watched.
“All I’d have to do is call his name, and he’d be able to look over here and see how fucking needy you are for it. That you couldn’t even make it behind closed doors before you had to get off.”
Her body starts to tremble against mine, hips picking up their frantic pace. “You want his eyes on yours as I make you come out here, fucking you with this cue?” Her eyes flutter shut, too far gone from the thought, already breaking.
“Too fucking bad,” I growl into her ear. “When I make you come, Hellcat, it’s for my eyes only.” I bite down on her shoulder, my lips pressed against her warm skin, teeth marking this woman as mine once again, in whatever way I can have her, even if it’s just this moment, even if it’s just in my head.
With my lips and teeth on her, my cock pressed into her from behind, she throws her head back against my shoulder and lets go.
She’s fucking beautiful when she comes.
Time hasn’t changed that.
I didn’t get this good of a view last week, but this is one I’m gonna remember on a lot of lonely nights to come. The way she looks, the way she feels against me as she falls apart.
She starts to slip down with those shaking legs struggling to hold her upright, so I press into her harder, holding her up steady against the table as she shatters. If I had use of my hands, I’d be holding her neck, her throat, pinching her nipples, or her clit, but they’re too busy keeping this lucky fucking stick between her legs, giving her what she needs to ride this out. Her sharp gasps turn into choppy breaths against the fabric of my shirt—those warm puffs of air hitting my shoulder through the Henley—then longer ones as she begins to come down, and my imagination couldn’t possibly do justice to what’s happening between her thighs right now, but fuck do I wish I was feeling it for myself.
I slow the motion of my hips and hands, pull my teeth off of her delicate skin and kiss the spot there, those indentations, before pulling back entirely. She turns to face me and where I expected her to withdraw from me, for regret to shine there, for her to flee once again, all I see is fire. Her eyes are molten as her chest heaves, face and neck flushed with her high and comedown, determination printed across her features.
Aurora doesn’t spare a split second, just grabs my wrist and pulls me toward the stairs. The cue falls to the ground behind me with a clatter and I barely have time to readjust myself—make sure nobody else in this bar gets to see what’s behind my tent flap, Ronnie’s enough—as I run behind her, all the way up the stairs and into her apartment. She slams the door behind me the instant I cross the threshold, then pulls me around in one motion to stand in front of her, her back pressed against the door.
Her voice is guttural, something out of my dreams, when she speaks, full brat on display. “You want me to use my mouth? I’ll use my mouth, Wyatt, but I’m not gonna ask you for shit. You’re gonna be the one begging here.”
She drops to her knees before I can even form a coherent thought and she has me unbuckled and pulled out in seconds. My jeans and boxer briefs get shoved to just below my ass, legs spread enough that they’re held up, and her face is so close, not even inches from where I need her, for the first time in so long. She’s stationed herself slightly to the side, so she can watch closely as she teases me with her touch.
Her grip on me, the way her fingers wrap around my length, nice and tight, the way I like it, I’m liable to blow as fast as she did. Fucking embarrassing, really. Her hands are smaller than I remember, she can barely wrap me in her fist, and after watching and feeling her come between my legs not once but twice in the past week or so, my balls are ready to spill at the first suck of her warm mouth on my shaft, I can feel the release building already.
“Jesus.” She breathes the word out like it’s a compliment, awe all over her face. If she’s not careful, that’ll be my cum. “You weren’t this big before, were you?”
I chuckle darkly. “Looks like I need to refresh your memory.”
An evil smile turns up the corners of her mouth and she leans forward, maintaining eye contact with me. “Allow me the honor of getting reacquainted,” she whispers, and then she starts in on my payback.
The tip of her tongue—just the tip—reaches out and licks the spot where my shaft meets my balls, pressing into the skin there and lighting my nerves on fire in a flash. She’s the spark to my fuel chamber, and it’s instant combustion. My hips buck into her hand, jerking me in her grip, sliding me through her fist as my knees buckle and I catch myself against the door behind her.
“Fuck, Hellcat. Warn a guy, would ya?”
All I get in response is a wicked grin, and then her hands start working me. Up, and down, the occasional twist and flick of her wrist, varying pressure from her fingers that keeps me on my toes, and my jaw tics at the way she’s pumping me, how my balls are tightening and she’s barely even begun.
“This is your warning,” she breathes out against the skin on the underside of my dick. And then she’s tonguing my balls.
“Oh, Jesus, fuck, Rory.”
Her mouth pulls away from me, but her hands keep working, sliding, gripping. “Don’t call me that,” she whispers, and then her mouth is back to work again.
She licks the underside of my balls, tongue sliding up the center of my sac, using a pressure a notch above what would be deemed polite or gentle to separate my boys with just her fucking tongue. They practically jump up in an effort to blow their load, but I talk them down, coax them into waiting as long as they can, because I’ve been waiting over a decade to feel her mouth on me again and I need this moment to last.
“I’ll call you whatever the fuck you want if you keep doing that,” I barely grunt the words out.
“Mmm,” she hums in approval against my clean-shaven skin, lips closed and pressed against my balls before she opens her mouth and sucks an entire nut in her mouth. Her head bobs below her hands that are still jerking me off, the pressure is insane, and that tugging thing she’s doing between her cheeks, teeth, and her tongue, I think I’m going to explode before I even get to feel her mouth on my head or shaft. Who the fuck does this? She used to give me a little tug back in the day, but this? It’s filthy. It’s fucking mind-blowing. A blowjob will never be the same again.
One hand is on the door for balance and support, so I don’t slip forward and knock us both out. The other, I tangle through her hair, finally getting to run through those strands from roots to ends, no ponytail in the way today. She groans around her mouthful as I pull on her hair, her head tugging back with the motion, creating the most insane pull on my package. She switches to the other one, giving my boys equal attention, and I’m not gonna make it inside of her before I blow my load if she keeps this up.
“Fuck, where did you learn that?” It comes out as more of a growl, but between what she’s doing to me, those rhythmic strokes with that perfect grip, and the pressure she’s using to lick and suck my balls as she goes, added to the red hot flare of jealousy that went through my gut at the thought of her learning this from anyone— for anyone—but me, you can’t blame me.
Aurora doesn’t answer me—thank God, my fist would end up through the door if she says some other fuck’s name while it’s me who just made her come, me who’s in her mouth—but she does pull back, maintaining eye contact as she uses her tongue to trace a line down the entire length of the underside of my shaft.
My knees tremble and threaten to give out, but I lock them, not about to lose this moment, even if I have to pass out to finish this. Mama didn’t raise no quitter. (Well, she raised one, but it ain’t me.)
Aurora’s eyes stay on mine as she licks that path, and I know the second she wraps those lips around the head of my cock, it’s gonna be all over.
“Fuck, yes,” I groan. My hand in her hair tightens and her eyes flare with heat in response.
Aurora uses the flat of her tongue to tease that spot on my shaft, just below where it joins the head, and then she works her way backward again, down toward the base, never giving me the attention the sensitive tip of my cock craves.
I nearly come just from the tease of it, how she made me think she was going to give it to me, then took it away at the last second. Her nipples are peaked beneath that shirt right in my line of vision, she’s just as turned on from this as I am.
I let her have the W.
“You’re not gonna give me more? Not gonna give me that mouth, that throat?”
Her hands are back on my dick, circling me, pumping me, sucking that release from me like her mouth wouldn’t. “Mm mmm,” is the only verbal response she gives me because she’s using that mouth again on something else. Two somethings.
My eyes narrow on hers, her blown out pupils and that look in them that says she wants me a lot deeper than her mouth can take me.
“You waiting for me to ask you for it? Fuck, Aurora. I want to feel that hot, wet mouth on me. Want your throat to take every drop you earn. You gonna give it to me?”
She laughs cruelly around my balls and it’s the hottest sound I’ve ever heard. She pulls back with a final lick and looks up at me, challenge flaring in her gaze.
“You’re gonna have to do more than that to prep me for this thing.” Her eyes point to what’s barely contained in her hands, and it stiffens further under her ministrations, her implication.
“Aw, come on, Hellcat. You’ve always been able to take me before,” I chide her, as she keeps stroking me, hungry eyes giving away how badly she wants just what I want too.
“It’s been too long,” she says between languid licks of whatever she feels like, as long as it’s not my tip, or the precum leaking out of it.
She’s making sure this is both the best and worst blowjob of my life—the hottest thing I’ve ever received, while never giving me what I really want, what I’ve been waiting years to feel again, what would finish this, finish me, in a moment—and I hope it never fucking ends.
She laughs throatily. “I’d choke on you in a second, and you know it.”
“Now you’re just trying to make me come, aren’t you? Making me picture you, pinned up against this door, can’t breathe cause I’m halfway down your throat while your eyes start to water and spit runs down your chin.”
She makes almost a squeak and leans forward to suck my balls back in her mouth to hide that heat in her gaze.
“Fuck, I think you’d like that as much as I would, wouldn’t you? Are your thighs slippery right now, Hellcat? Is this pussy making a mess for me already?”
Aurora shifts in place, giving herself away, how drenched she is for exactly what I’m describing. Shit, she’s probably taking it farther in her head than I am. She always liked to be held down, a firm grip, a touch of domination. But I’ve always been the one on my knees for her.
“You win, Aurora,” I give in. “This is me begging for your mouth, your pussy, any hole in your body. I’ll fill them, wreck them, remind you what it’s like to be thoroughly used, to have your body owned and say thank you at the end of it. I’ll take your face, your cunt, or your ass, just let me fuck you wherever you want it most and give us both what we need right now.”
As I talk, I twist my wrist to wrap her hair in my fist again, getting close to the scalp to apply the right amount of pressure, begging her with my hand as much as my mouth. She moans incoherently around me, and the vibration, that sucking motion she’s doing where she’s tugging my nuts into her mouth, stroking me with her tongue, this entire fucking display, it’s more than I can hold out against.
“Too late.” The words are a grunted rumble, but I think she hears them. “Gonna have to save that for the next round. You and that mouth are gonna ruin my plans. God, fuck, I’m close, Hellcat. I’m coming. So much.”
She urges me on with her tongue, the determination in her grip on my dick as she pulls the orgasm out of me, forcing the release before I wanted it to happen, but there’s no way I can stop it. This girl on her knees for me. Sucking me down like she’s missed the taste of me, the sight of me coming undone for her. Her long blonde-ish hair in my fist, her spit pooling in the corners of her mouth. The second I can get hard again, I’m going to fuck her so hard, so deep, she’ll never leave the Heights again, and if she does, she’ll still feel me between her legs.
Her eyes flutter shut as my balls clench and tighten with my release, like she knows what she’s doing to me, and relishing in it the way it feels.
“Ah, fuck, coming,” I pant out in warning.
“Mmhmm,” she nods, encouraging me from that angle she’s at down below me, watching intently, and her grip gets even tighter, my cock impossibly harder.
She jerks me, strokes me, once, twice more, swallowing around my balls, and I’m done for. My cock twitches as my release spurts up and out, straight onto the door in front of us with a heavy splat. The waves of release keep coming, my entire body locked up as ropes of cum shoot out and mark a pattern on the faux wood. Her eyes stick to it, mesmerized to watch it drip down, as she breathes heavily out her nose, puffs of air against my cock and upper thighs.
Aurora sits back on her heels, shifts her hips around once more, readjusting herself like she’s as turned on as I am right now. Her lips pop off of my balls with a loud smack and I let out a noise that’s somewhere between a thanks and a threat. Barely coherent after that torture, but I know exactly what I want next. Her begging for it.
“Get on the bed,” I tell her in a deep voice.
She watches me, her eyes wide and innocent—way more innocent than she is—her knees spread further apart on this carpeted floor, probably rubbed raw from rug burn, and I just know her pussy is drenched all over again. She keeps her eyes on mine as she takes a finger and wipes it through the mess on the door, then puts that fingertip in her mouth, licking my cum off of it in a private show I’d pay to see again.
“Get on the fucking bed,” I repeat in a growl. “Now.” My cock is already twitching back to life, and that hasn’t happened this fast since … probably since she left.
Aurora’s eyes twinkle and a self-satisfied smirk she can’t hide peeks through, but she gets up off her knees and rises back to her full height, staring me down in challenge instead of doing what I told her to. Awful sassy for someone I’m about to split in half.
With the same hand she just used to wipe the door with, she reaches between her legs, up her denim skirt, and she swipes through the mess I know is waiting for me there beneath those wet little panties. The mess I’ve earned, the one I’ll be glad to clean up.
She brings her hand out again and holds two fingers in front of my face. Two soaking fingers, rich and heady with a scent I could never forget. My favorite nectar.
“Your turn,” she tells me in a throaty voice, offering me her hand.
I grab her wrist and open my mouth, tongue eager and ready for the challenge ahead, when there’s a sharp rap, a knock at the door that stops us both in our trajectory to an entire night of well-earned bliss.