Chapter 8
Freedom
D’Angelo
I lean against my new car with my hands in the pocket of my suit.
I’m precisely two and a half minutes early for my date now. I spent a further thirteen minutes lurking at the bottom of the drive.
Will Robyn be impressed that I’m beating my reputation for always being late?
I’d never be late for a date with my principessa. I spend every minute wishing that I could be with her.
Obsessive. Possessive. But also a millionaire.
Isn’t that the crucial difference between a man being a keeper or one step away from a restraining order?
My expression darkens, when I think about the person who I wish I could take out a restraining order against: Melanie Helt.
Fucking journalists.
Secrets of a Puck Boy Captain.
Will it be another tell-all story from one of my one night stands? A submissive?
I party with a lot of people but I don’t tell them anything private about myself. My true friends are a small, close group and loyal.
What secrets?
I run my hands through my curls, taking a deep breath of the tangy sea breeze.
Eden would love it out here.
Whereas I think that it’d be improved by a development of luxury seafront apartments with all-night clubs and bars.
I’d never tell Cody that because I value my balls.
I glance out at Ember Beach, which lies down a long, sandy path beyond Cody’s ramshackle, seafoam green cottage.
The light sparkles on the waves. The air shimmers.
I tap my fingers on the bonnet of the car in patterns of three, thoughtfully. When it’s the right month for it, I’ll take Eden and Shay out on a boat to see the whales and seals.
I’ll hate it but I’m prepared to sacrifice for the way that Shay’s face will light up like the sun. Every time that I manage to get him to look that way, I feel less of an asshole and more like he’s mine.
Coaxing a smile from Eden is just as rewarding. I know that I’ve been treating him like a brother and I haven’t had one of those for a long time.
Eden would probably want to adopt a seal.
I shift from foot to foot.
That does it.
I feel like I’ve been waiting all my life for these dates with Robyn.
No more waiting.
I twist to snatch the bouquet of orange roses, which are elaborately wrapped in ribbon (Robyn would look even more beautiful tied up in these silky, golden lengths), off the bonnet of the Alfa Romeo.
Then I hiss out a sharp breath at the scratch of the thorns along the vintage paintwork.
Fuck, that’s sacrilege.
Robyn’s worth it.
I run my thumb along the scratch with a wince.
Forgive me, baby.
I remember the first time at college that I found out that Robyn loved orange roses. She missed them because they reminded her of a rosebush that her mom had lovingly tended.
Robyn was homesick for her first semester.
The next night, I raided an elite fraternity across campus to steal a bunch of roses from their gardens, getting my ass beat — literally — when I was caught.
I bargained six extra strokes of their frat paddle to keep the roses though.
I sprayed the roses orange with graffiti paint and spread them in front of the door to Robyn’s room.
I don’t know if I realized that I was falling in love with Robyn from the way that she fell over on her ass in surprise the next morning, smiling in pure joy at the sight, or whether I’d already been well on the way there.
I only know that I always wanted her to keep on smiling.
But Wilder fucked that up for both us, didn’t he?
He’s not here now, however, and these are real roses clutched in my hand.
I adjust my tie, raising my hand to knock on the door.
Just at that moment, the door swings open, and I’m left mid-motion, staring into Robyn’s amused face.
“Smooth,” Cody calls from inside.
Robyn’s wearing stained jeggings and…fuck, is that a One Direction sweater?
Shoot me now.
I feel overdressed. This is my best navy suit, along with diamond cuff links.
I took hours getting ready for this date. Although, I’d never admit that.
I made sure that my new car would be perfect as well.
I suppose that I’m going to need to accept that messy is Robyn’s natural state.
She looks beautiful even with smudged lipstick. Does she put it on without a mirror?
Would it be justification for a smack for me to ask that? What if I managed to correct the lipstick in a seductive way, for example, by kissing the smudge away?
I force myself to flick my gaze up to Robyn’s eyes, trying to not let it bother me in the same way that I attempt not to let it make me want to spank Shay until his ass is red and hot, whenever Shay sticks his fingers in the jam or trails mud over the marble floors after his runs.
I cough. “These are for you.”
When Robyn’s eyes light up at the sight of the roses, I forget all about the smudged lipstick and questionable sweater.
I even forget the image of Shay’s gorgeous, scarlet spanked ass over my lap.
Robyn takes away my breath.
“Thanks.” She cradles the roses. “They’re beautiful.”
“You are, principessa,” I murmur.
“Come on. Show me this new toy of yours.”
“Toy…?” I retort. “Remind me how old you need to be to drive.”
Robyn takes my hand, allowing me to lead her to the car.
“Backseat, remember.” Cody waves with a wink, before slamming shut the door.
I blink. “Your brother doesn’t know much about cars, does he? This is a two-seater sports car. It doesn’t have a backseat.”
Why is she looking disappointed?
“Oh, well. We can still have fun.”
When I open the passenger door for Robyn, she struggles to swing herself into the low seat elegantly. She rests the flowers on her knee.
“Okay?” I check.
She nods.
I close the door, before bounding around to the driver’s side. I open my door and slide onto the leather seat, shutting the door.
I turn on the car, listening with satisfaction to the growl of the engine.
Robyn’s lips twitch. “You’re in heaven already, right? Shall I leave you two alone for this private moment?”
I ease the car down the drive and onto the winding road that leads away from the beach and up into the mountains. “Don’t tell me that the car’s growling doesn’t do something for you.”
“It’d do something if you growled.”
I indulge her with a deep, rumbling growl.
She shivers.
Interesting.
Primal kink is one of my favorites. Plus, there’s a forest behind Captain’s Hall…
That idea is going in the Guide.
I’m being won over by the whole idea of a book dedicated to our relationship, even if it started as a these are the reasons that I hate hockey players and especially D’Angelo rant book.
A journal on our explorations, kinks, and fantasies, however, sounds like exactly the type of thing that I’d invent.
“Yeah, just like that.” Robyn’s pink tongue darts out and licks across her lips.
I smirk. She’s already primed for this date.
Foreplay shouldn’t begin ten minutes or even an hour before an orgasm. It should begin within moments of the last orgasm.
It’s why I’ve built the tension since yesterday morning with Robyn, when I drove her within a second of tipping over the edge, before stopping.
I know that she must have been throbbing with need ever since, which is why I’ve been teasing and denying her. It’s one of my favorite games: a brush of a hand against her lower back here, an intense eye fucking there.
Frustration makes her look even more beautiful.
This morning, I sent her a text.
JUDE (9:48):Be ready at 11 a.m. I can’t wait to have fun with you on our date
I didn’t have long to wait for her reply.
MY FOREVER (9:49): What type of fun?
I smiled. She took the bait.
JUDE (9:52): The type that means I can’t concentrate on anything bc I’m so hard
This time, it took longer for her to reply. But she did.
This was the best type of foreplay.
MY FOREVER (10:01): What are you doing rn?
JUDE(10:02):Stroking my hard cock and thinking about how incredible it’s going to feel inside you…
After that, I didn’t reply to any of her texts, even the begging ones.
See, tease.
“So, how far are you taking me?” Robyn looks at me out of the corner of her eye. I hope that she’s thinking about either my texts or hard cock. “This is exciting.”
“How far do you want to go?”
“I meant in the car…as in, are we riding…?” She puffs out a frustrated breath as she babbles. It’s adorable. “How long is the journey?”
I try to keep my expression shuttered. “A really, really long way. Get comfortable.”
“Comfortable? This is…”
“Thrilling?”
I slip my hands around the wheel, loving the rush of racing up the mountain roads.
Excitement surges through me. It’s the same sensation, as when I push myself on the ice like flying…or falling.
Except, unlike in dreams, sometimes you do hit the ground.
“This is a 1960’s Alfa Romeo Stradale,” I say, quietly. “I’ve dreamed of driving this car all my life. I don’t know why I never bought one. Except, I do. I didn’t think that I deserved it. Making the team this season, I finally feel like if I don’t buy one now, then I never will.”
“You do deserve this car,” Robyn replies. “Why wouldn’t you think that you did?”
“Because it was the car that my brother and I always talked about growing up.” I swallow. Fuck, it hurts to talk about Bruno. “Being raised in an Italian American family, Bruno and I were close. Family meant everything. He was older than me but he still took the time to chat to me about things like cars, sport, and religion. The three most important things to him.”
I smile, bitterly.
I hadn’t meant to say any of this.
Yet Robyn has a way of making me feel safe enough to share vulnerable sides to myself that I keep shielded from everyone else.
She’s the only person who I trust not to use them against me.
Once, Bruno meant the older brother who’d ruffle my hair, swap a joke, and always protect me.
He’d been strict, but there was a type of safety with knowing the rules.
But then, everything changed.
He caught me kissing a boy and transformed into someone who I didn’t even know.
I didn’t fight back against the type of stranger who could look at me with such hate.
Shock, I guess.
I’d never been beaten like that before. Beaten, until I passed out. Beaten, until I tasted my own blood.
After that, at the private boarding college for troubled teens that my parents sent me to, I almost forgot that there’d been a time that I didn’t know the taste of my own blood or a time that I respected the meaning of family.
Trusted them.
Can I really trust that my new, found family love me? Or do they only love me in the same, conditional way that my parents and brother did?
“I’m sorry.” Robyn rests her hand on my knee. “I’m glad that you bought this car. I know how close I am with Cody. I wish that you hadn’t lost your brother.”
“I didn’t lose Bruno.” I clench my jaw. “He was always the best looking guy in the room. A jock. And he’s back in my home town with my parents still, married with kids. I didn’t lose him. They chose to throw me away like trash because I kissed a boy. That’s why I’ll do anything to prove to Shay, Eden, and you that none of you will be thrown away…for any reason. This family that we’re creating will last as long as you want it. I’m fucking obsessed with all of you. You’re my forever family, and this car is like my…”
“Fuck you?” Robyn offers.
I snort. “Precisely. It’s my fuck you car to Bruno.”
I begin to slow the Alfa Romeo, pulling off to a cliff point. A small, blue canvas ice cream stall perches on the edge.
Robyn glances around her, confused. “We’ve only been driving for a couple of minutes. This is still in Freedom.”
My lips quirk. “Strange.”
“Did you seriously buy this car so quickly to impress me for a five minute drive?”
I struggle not to laugh. “My principessa deserves to ride in style.”
I switch off the car, as excitement vibrates through me.
When I climb out, I gesture to the man who owns the stall. He’s a silver haired man in his fifties with twinkling eyes. He nods at me, before disappearing on his long trek down the mountain, as arranged.
Then I open the door for Robyn, who abandons the roses in the car.
Robyn looks around.“It’s beautiful up here.”
Noticing her shivering, I wrap my arm around her. “When I needed time to think about the season or game strategy, I’d come up here.”
I stroll with Robyn across the grass closer to the cliff edge.
The view over the Atlantic ocean, which extends in the distance, is breath-taking.
“This ice cream stall is the best in Freedom. I also know the owner personally. They’re discrete. These secret dates aren’t easy to pull off.” I kiss the top of Robyn’s head.
“They can’t be that good, there’s nobody around.” Robyn burrows closer against my chest, as if seeking body warmth. “Plus, I’ve never heard of this stall.”
“You’ve been away from town. Anyway, they’re normally closed today. They opened especially for us.”
Robyn glances up at me in wonder, as if she’s not the most precious thing in the world to me. “Did you pay them to open just for us?”
“I bought out the entire stall for the day. So, I hope you’re hungry.”
Robyn makes a cute meeping sound, which I’m interpreting as delight.
“Can we take the chocolate ice cream back for Eden?” She claps her hands.
“On my vintage leather seats?” I demand.
She nods. “Plus, the vanilla one for Shay. It’s ironic that vanilla is his favorite flavor.”
I sigh.
This makes me a good man. It must.
“If you promise to keep them on your knee.” I hold up a warning finger. “And not to drop them, or I’ll enforce page four, clause two of the contract.”
Robyn’s cheeks flush, as I hoped that they would. She always looks best like this, flustered but caught on the knife edge of arousal.
I love this moment — the thrill of power.
What truly makes me feel connected to someone, however, is that the person I’m with is choosing to submit to me.
Robyn can tell me to fuck off. But she’s making the decision not to.
I’m in control, pushing at her secret, hidden desires like the devil on her shoulder. It’s innate, a part of me, which is intimate and meaningful. I’ve trained and learned about myself in ways that I haven’t yet shared with Robyn.
She hasn’t visited my mansion. She doesn’t know about the other secret business that I own either.
I’ll tell her once the season is properly underway.
She isn’t ready yet.
I’m also a mod on an online BDSM chatroom, which supports my community because they’ve supported me in the past.
My online user name is MasterFireandIce22.
22 is my hockey jersey number.
I chose it because ’22’ is Robyn’s lucky number. So, even though we were apart for six years, I could still feel close to her during every game.
I see the same natural dominance in Eden as I have in me, although he’s more of a caregiver than I am.
All I know is that I was born dominant in the same way that I was born bisexual.
Figuring this stuff out about myself and learning about communication and trust has helped me. My kinks and power exchange relationships have been the most healthy and positive part of my life.
Also, the most fun.
What’s beautiful to me is how a sub gives over their body, mind, and will within the boundaries of consent. Then I use all of that to bring us both pleasure.
I grip Robyn’s chin, forcing eye contact. “Tell me what that would mean.”
She doesn’t want to say it but she still obeys.
“Discipline,” she whispers.
My dick is pressing against my trousers now.
“Good girl.” I reward her with a kiss.
Robyn’s lips search out mine to deepen the kiss, but I draw back, loosening the hold. “Come on, we have over one hundred ice creams to try.”
I slip my hand from Robyn’s chin, trailing it down her throat. Her eyes become glassy, as I trace the hollow of her neck, where the gold pendant of a jersey lies, which I gave her.
Then I slide my hand to the collar of her hideous sweater and tug more firmly, pulling her after me.
Robyn stumbles along, unable to look away from the bright stall, which has trays of multi-colored blocks of ice-cream in its front and a cut-out sign hanging down of an overflowing ice cream cone with sprinkles.
Robyn smiles up at me. “I should have known that you’d have chosen something cold.”
“Like my heart, you mean?”
“Frosty, but when your lips lick it just right…” She takes me off guard, twisting in my grip to lick down my neck, hot and needy. It’s my turn to shiver. “…you melt.”
“We’ll see about that.”
She’s right, but I’m not letting her know that.
She doesn’t realize how much power she has over me.
She could destroy me with a word.
She could kill me by abandoning me again.
“Are you looking forward to your date with Shay on Friday as well?” She asks.
“He’s never had a date with a man before. He’s under the false impression that men don’t get nice things like dates. I’m going to show him how wrong he is. How much he deserves to be treated well. How worthy he is. I don’t know what truly happened in his past, but someone made him feel like trash, and I don’t only mean his asshole biological parents who literally sold him. He’ll tell us when he’s ready. I won’t push. For now, I’ll endure…”
“A horror movie night with homemade curry…?”
My lips pinch. “It’s what he wants. It’s probably what he’s been dreaming about. I know how that is. How can I tell him that I have no tolerance for scary movies? That I’d rather be fine dining on an Italian, before taking him home, tying him to the bed and then fucking him, until he doesn’t remember his own name?”
“There’s always the second date.”
I chuckle. “Then I’ll get the rope ready for both your second dates.”
I love how she flushes.
“I half expected you to turn up with a carriage or on horseback today.” Robyn allows herself to be manhandled toward the stall. Shay and her both love that I can give this to them. Together, these two are trouble. “After all, you’re my white knight.”
“You forget,” I reply, deep and dangerous, “I told you that I’m actually your wicked dragon.”
I tighten my arm around her, as my eyes blaze in demonstration.
“Dragon or not, you do still own that horse riding outfit, right?” She asks, looking hopeful. “The one from the photograph in the Guide that makes you look like Darcy, if they ever did a mash up of Pride and Prejudice and 50 Shades of Gray.50 Shades of Darcy…? I’d watch that.”
“Christ, I wouldn’t.” I stare at her, horrified.
What has she just dreamed up?
She scrunches up her nose. “Now you even sound like Darcy.”
My eyes darken. “Careful, cara mia. I don’t have the outfit but I do have the riding crop.”
In fact, it’s one of my favorite implements. The supple leather fits into my hand by now, comfortable and familiar.
It’d make beautiful marks on Robyn’s skin.
I shake my head, trying to clear my mind of the vision of Robyn stretched out and writhing in ecstasy under my crop.
“Will you show me some time?” She asks, tentatively.
As if she’s still unsure whether she has a right to her own needs being met.
I took great delight in kneeing her ex in the balls. I want to do it again.
“I’d love to introduce you to the kiss of my crop,” I murmur. “You’d love to please me, wouldn’t you?”
Her breathing picks up like I knew it would.
She nods.
“Words,” I say, more sharply.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good, girl.” I let go of her, swaggering the final few steps toward the stall. “Come here.”
She bites her lip, before obeying me.
She’s falling into the right headspace now.
We’ve both been under a lot of pressure this week. We need this. And we’re alone up here on the top of the mountain with the crashing ocean beneath and the deep blue sky above.
“Do you remember our ice cream breaks at college?” Robyn asks dreamily, wandering to join me in front of the tubs of ice-cream. I take a deep breath of the delicious sweet and fruity smells. My mouth waters. “You never stopped working, outside hockey practice. I’d find you late at night still hunched over your desk. Some nights, the only way that I could coax you away was by promising to buy you an ice cream from that incredible all night parlor off campus.”
I couldn’t afford to eat in that parlor as a poor scholarship student. Robyn didn’t know that. It would have hurt my pride to tell her.
I knew even then that I was competing both for her friendship and heart against wealthy, elite students like Wilder, whose parents owned half the county.
I was a dumbass but I didn’t feel like I’d have a chance to move out of the friendzone, if she discovered that the best I could offer her were stolen roses covered in spray paint.
Yet Robyn was so kind that she’d drag me out of my dorm coffee induced work haze to that luxury parlor and pay simply to get me away from my essays.
She also didn’t know the rigorous demands of my scholarship meant I had to work that hard.
“And now,” I gesture at the stall, “I’m returning the favor.”
I steel myself, before swiping two fingers through the strawberry ice cream.
I shudder at the cold, slimy sensation. I hate it. But this is romantic. It’s what people do who don’t have my struggles with OCD and touch.
I can do this.
I hold my fingers up to Robyn’s lips, deliberately smearing it around her lips. Then she opens her mouth eagerly, sucking in my fingers and licking around them.
I growl at the sensation, fellating my fingers in and out of her mouth, deeper and harder.
I entwine my other hand in her hair at the back of her neck. “You’re taking my fingers so well. Let’s see what else you can handle.”
I withdraw my fingers, resisting the temptation to wipe them dry. Instead, I run them through the melted chocolate ice cream now on the edges of the tub.
Robyn opens her mouth, eagerly.
Na?ve.
I smirk, deliberately smearing the ice cream all around her lips. “Whoops.” Her eyes widen. “Don’t close your mouth. Don’t lick.”
When I yank her head back by her hair, her pupils dilate. Then I trail my cold fingers down her exposed throat.
She shivers, and I avidly watch the way that her neck bobs, as she swallows.
The ice cream melts, dripping down to pool in the hollow of her throat.
“Look, I made a mess.” I press even closer to her, teasing her open mouth with my fingers, before sucking them into my own mouth. She watches me, breathing raggedly. Delicious — both the ice cream and my gorgeous lover. “I’d better clean you up.”
I dip my head to catch the melted ice cream with my warm tongue, before it stains her sweater. Then I swirl my tongue in teasing circles, where the liquid has pooled at the hot base of her throat.
Her chest is rapidly rising and falling.
I take my time, as I lick up her neck in long swipes, before nuzzling underneath her jaw.
I’m driving her wild. It’s how I want her.
Because it’s what she needs.
After Robyn’s meeting with her dad and knowing what this season means to all of us, we need a moment of connection that’s beyond words.
She needs to be wrecked, and I need to be the one to wreck her.
To push her down into a place where there’s only sensation, feeling, and pleasure.
It’s a fucking rush.
Then I’ll bring her up again, reborn and refreshed.
At last, Robyn can’t restrain herself any longer. She clutches me by the front of my shirt, pulling me impossibly closer.
I allow myself to finally kiss the ice cream off her lips.
And this is how you seductively sort out smudged lipstick without getting smacked.
“Kiss me, cara mia,” I whisper.
Robyn eagerly kisses me back now like I taste as delicious as the ice cream that we can taste on each other’s lips.
I slide my hands to her waist, clutching tightly. Then I walk her backward toward the car.
She doesn’t notice.
She’s lost in our frantic kissing.
Fuck, these lips should be mine alone.
She tastes so sweet.
Her lips are soft, but her hands are hard, as she twists at my shirt desperately like she wishes that she could rip it off me.
I kiss her harder, hungry.
She sucks on my lower lip in answer, before catching it between her teeth.
I arch my brow, welcoming the flash of brat in her that’s always attracted me.
Of course, Shay could give her lessons.
If my two pets don’t think that I know how to handle two brats then they’re in for a shock.
I love the challenge.
Fuck, I love them both.
I gentle the kiss, and in response, Robyn releases my lip and kisses over it, soothingly.
When I draw back, Robyn’s gaze softens in surprise. “Okay?”
“Just thinking about how much I love you.”
“I never stop thinking about how much I love you.” Her eyes are large and vulnerable.
She fucking means it.
I lower my head to place a searing kiss on her jaw, as the back of her knees hit the bonnet of the Alfa Romeo.
I circle my thumbs teasingly along her hips, holding her in place. She needs to tip back her head because she’s so much smaller than me.
She’s so strong and has such a big personality that I forget how much taller I am than her.
I’m not going to let her forget it now.
I tower over her, pinning her in place with a stern stare. “Don’t move. I want to see if you can come just with me touching you…like this.”
I graze my fingers up her hips and over her curves that I’ve always loved.
I tease my fingers higher, mapping out every moan and quiver.
I memorize each point that makes her breath hitch or hands clench. I’m going to learn everything that there is about her responses, until I can play her and draw pleasure or pain with the same strategizing that I’d plan a hockey game.
She struggles to come with vaginal penetration alone and she’s used to an ex who never cared. I’m going to show her, however, just how many other creative options there are.
I push my hand underneath her sweater. She holds my gaze, as my nail grazes over her nipple through her bra. She stiffens, sucking in her breath.
She’s so sensitive.
Her eyes become glassy. “Again.”
“You’re playing a dangerous game. Beg me.”
“Please.”
“You can do better than that.”
“Please, Sir, I want your hands on my breasts. They feel so fucking good.”
“You want? This isn’t about what you want. It’s about what I want.”
Robyn opens her mouth and then closes it. Then she tries again.
My good girl. She’s smart.
“Please, please Sir, I’m wet for you. I’m desperate to feel your hands on me, making me come…but only if that’d bring you pleasure.”
I flick across her nipple in reward. She whimpers, before pushing out her chest, hoping for more.
I take her cue.
Then I drag up her sweater, exposing her bra.
She reddens. “What if someone sees?”
“Are you safe wording?” I check.
Hurriedly, she shakes her head.
“Then what if they do?” I ease my fingers into her bra, rolling one of her nipples between my thumb and forefinger. She moans and begins to hump against me. “Poor, principessa. Out here in the open, being such a naughty girl. What if someone comes up the mountain and sees you? How does it feel? What if they’re hiding and jerking off to the pretty picture that you’re making?”
They’re not because I’d fucking rip off their dick if they tried to.
Also, I’m facing the road. I can see all the way down it. It’s why I chose this location. There’s nothing up this drive, apart from the stall, which is meant to be closed. There’s nothing on the other side of us but the wide ocean.
We’re alone.
If anyone did somehow creep up without me seeing, then I’m shielding Robyn. All they’d see was her back.
But she doesn’t need to know that because the fantasy is driving her right to the edge.
She’s about to tip over…
“What if they’re watching you right now, humping my leg?” I rub over her nipple again, and she whines. I know how much she loves this from our negotiations. “Are you going to come from this…alone…?”
Then, she does.
Fast, hard, and perfect.
She screams, hiding her face against my shoulder.
“Fucking beautiful.” I ease her bra and sweater back into place.
She’s shaking but she looks blissed out.
That was only orgasm number one, however, and I’m determined to give her a second one. This time, fulfilling my own long term fantasy.
I don’t wait for her to pull herself together. I need her like this, relaxed and wrecked.
I turn her, bending her over the bonnet of the car. It’s so low that when she catches herself by her hands, splaying them, it pushes her ass up in a way that frames it perfectly.
I drag down her jeggings. Her ass in her thong looks gorgeous.
“I’m going to fuck my toy now,” I’m unable to hide the amusement in my voice, “over my toy.”
Robyn has the strength left to shoot me a challenging grin over her shoulder. “So, you admit that this car is a toy.”
Challenge accepted.
I spank her ass.
Fucking. Satisfying.
My hand leaves a crisp red imprint on her pale skin. Robyn doesn’t flinch away but pushes into my touch, as if she’s asking for more.
I can’t wait to have her over my lap for a proper erotic spanking. I bet that she could come from that alone.
Shay definitely will.
I trace over the hot skin.
Another time.
Robyn wiggles her ass, and I smile, fondly.
“So, despite the fact that it looked like you rummaged through your old laundry to find something to throw on for our date, you actually wore your best underwear.” I tease the skin around the edge of her thong.
“Wedgie,” she mutters.
My brow furrows. “It’s not my kink but it’s not one of my hard limits. So, if we talk about it more, maybe next time…”
She looks round at me, wildly. “I meant that the thong feels like a wedgie. Step away from the evil thong.”
“But they’re so good for easy access.”
I simply push the thong to the side, slipping two fingers into her folds.
She’s already dripping wet.
I work my fingers in and out of her pussy, and she relaxes, resettling herself over the car.
While I keep her distracted, I undo my trousers with one hand. I’ve been so hard that it’s painful ever since the drive up here with the woman who drives me wild.
The only woman who I’ve ever loved.
I pull myself out of my trousers, indulging myself with one long, twisting stroke up my shaft. I bite my lip as I rub over the head just how I like it.
Touching myself is no longer satisfying, however, since Robyn touched me.
Now, I get to bury myself in her hot, tight heat.
I don’t care whether my cock is buried between her thighs, ass, deep in her throat, rubbing between her thighs, or worked between her clever hands… I only know that I crave her touch.
I pull a condom out of my pocket.
Reluctantly, I stop fingering Robyn and rip open the condom, before sheathing my cock.
Then I can’t hold myself back any longer.
I need to lose myself in Robyn.
I stroke my hands down her spine, before gripping onto her hair like reins. Then I fuck into her wetness in one, long hard thrust.
Robyn and I moan at the same time.
Fuck, it feels incredible.
“Robyn,” I murmur.
I snap my hips, faster and faster.
My pulse is roaring in my ears. I can’t tell if the loud breaths that I can hear are Robyn’s or mine.
“Please, please, please.” Robyn scrabbles on the bonnet. “Harder.”
Instead, I pull out, flipping her over onto her back. She lands with a whoosh of breath.
Immediately, I thrust back into her, fucking her harder like she begged for.
But this time, I can press my body against hers.
I needed to see her face.
I want to gaze into her eyes, as she falls apart. I want her to see mine, as I do.
I lean down, and my curls cover her face. It’s like we’re in our own world, as my cock spears her, and my lips claim hers.
Then we’re kissing, fucking, and loving.
Out here, under the sky by the ocean with the innocent sweetness of ice cream on our lips, it feels almost like the last nine years didn’t happen.
Almost like we’re back in college with those bright hopes and dreams.
Like this second chance between us is real.
I slip my hand down to her clit, rubbing circles over it just as fast as I pound into her. I’m working her up to crashing her over the edge at the same time as me.
“I’m close.” I rest my forehead against hers, as my thumb grazes across her clit. “Come when I do.”
My hips stutter. My back arches.
“Jude,” Robyn gasps, “I love you.”
Robyn is staring up into my eyes — beautiful and the only woman who I’ll ever love — as we both come together.
Yet even as I’m still lying over Robyn with my cock buried in her pussy in the glow of our joint orgasms, I know that it’s not the same as nine years ago.
We’ve both grown up and changed.
I’m not innocent. I have secrets.