Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
A urora
Tate’s hands slide over my hips and shove my dress down my legs. His palms rub against my skin—fingers splayed, tips dragging behind so deeply it almost hurts.
I’m lightheaded despite being anchored in the moment, and every sense is overstimulated.
The air is thick and musky, making it hard to breathe, and Tate’s breath on my neck feels like flames licking my core. My thighs are sticky.
It’s too much. It’s also not nearly enough.
“Breathe,” Tate whispers into my ear. “You have to breathe, gorgeous.”
I exhale, releasing the breath I’ve been holding.
How am I even here?
I never expected to find such a … stimulating experience again, and especially not with a man so much younger than I am. With so much more experience, too, it seems. A man who doesn’t even know my real name.
I’m about to fuck a man I’ll never see again after tonight.
Who am I?
“Step out of your dress,” he says, brushing my hair across my shoulder. “Heels stay on.”
I step one foot and then the other, holding his hand for balance.
“Now turn around and face me.”
Tate boldly rakes his eyes over the length of my body as I face him. His gaze is slow and seductive, and I can almost feel it slide over my curves. It’s as if he’s mentally photographing every dip and freckle, cataloging them like precious goods.
“Fuck, Kel. You’re even sexier than I imagined.”
I’m intoxicated, high on hits of dopamine.
I somehow forgot that I could elicit this type of reaction from a man. I’d gotten comfortable with the idea of being forty, and that no man would find me young and beautiful. It never crossed my mind that someone would ever still see me like the twentysomething I feel I am on the inside.
Until now.
“My God,” he says, licking his bottom lip. His eyes finally lift to mine, and they’re hooded. The corner of his lips curls into a devious grin as he takes a few steps back. “We’re going to have so much fun tonight.”
I swallow through the constriction in my throat and take one step toward him. Then another, bolstered by his reaction. Each movement is deliberate—the click of my heel, shift of my weight, jiggle of my breasts. He watches me with rapt attention, his eyes never leaving my body.
My hands skim beneath his shirt and discover a wall of muscle. They roam up to his chest and over his shoulders, appreciating every ridge and valley of his chiseled physique. He flexes against my touch, sending a shiver down my spine.
Tugging the shirt over his head, I expose his body inch by delicious inch, causing me to squeeze my thighs together as I witness, for the first time, the epitome of male perfection. Damn.
“I’ve only seen bodies like this online, and I swore it was all photoshopped,” I say, openly gawking.
“And you haven’t even gotten to the best part,” Tate says, winking.
I grab his waistband and yank him to me.
“Getting aggressive, Miss Kapowski?” he asks, watching me undo his belt.
The name makes my stomach knot, and I wish I could correct him. I’d love nothing more than to hear him call me Aurora. It would make this that much hotter, and I’d feel far less guilty. I’m giving him my body, but I can’t give him my real name?
I can’t fix this now. There’s no way. Besides, by this time tomorrow, he’ll only be a memory. What does it really matter?
“Does my aggressiveness intimidate you?” I tease.
“Oh, no. Please don’t hurt me. That would be awful ,” he deadpans.
“Don’t be a smart-ass.”
His chuckle cuts through me like a hot knife. “I think you misunderstand this situation.”
“What makes you say that?” I slide his belt out of his pants and toss it to the side. Then I palm his cock through his pants and look up at him. “This is kind of hard to misunderstand, isn’t it?”
His hand covers mine, his fingers pressing mine harder against him.
“The part you don’t seem to comprehend is that I’m here to please you,” he says. His eyes, aroused, are more green than blue. “Whatever gets you off is what I’m into.” He leans forward until his lips hover above mine. “Don’t be confused about that, either. Because, by morning, you will know every way you can come.”
Good God.
I suck in a breath as he pulls away from my face.
His words stoke the inferno sizzling inside me, a fire that’s hotter and brighter than I’ve ever felt before. Life is breathed into me again. Each touch, word, and look brings me closer to a version of myself I thought was long gone, having faded away with my failed relationships.
My hands tremble as I unfasten his pants. The hiss of his zipper kisses the air as I lower it one tooth at a time. It’s a moment pregnant with anticipation and thick with tension, and I focus on the proximity of my hand to his cock.
Tate’s fingers brush across my cheek before he turns, removing his socks and shoes, and then his pants and briefs. His back ripples with each movement, each muscle flexing and pulling in a spectacular show just for me. Finally, he turns to me with his cock in his hand, and my eyes instinctively follow the movement.
Holy. Fucking. Hell.
He strokes himself from root to tip. A bead of pre-cum has already gathered on the head. His shaft is thick and nearly as long as his hand— and I want it inside me .
“I think you’re the one misreading this situation,” I say.
“Really?”
“You don’t seem to comprehend that I want you to bury yourself inside me.” I lift a brow. “ Now .”
His eyes widen, and a slow smile splits his lips. “Get over here.”
He cups my face with both hands a split second before his mouth covers mine. It happens so fast that I’m unprepared. I gasp a breath before slinging my arms over his shoulders and running my fingers through his hair, melting into him .
His lips are soft and full, and each kiss is demanding and intentional. They press and glide against mine—guiding them in a dance that feels like we’ve practiced many times before. His tongue slips into my mouth, parting my lips as if he owns them.
I whimper and sag against him.
A dizzying current rushes through my veins and coalesces in the apex of my thighs.
“Tate,” I moan as he presses kisses along my jaw.
He picks me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. My heels drop to the floor, and his cock slides against my pussy, taunting it. Taunting me. My head falls back as I thrust my hips against him, begging for friction. Contact. Relief .
“You promised me orgasms,” I say, moaning every time the head of his dick touches my clit.
“Do you want to come on my face or cock first?” He carries me into the bedroom, nipping my bottom lip between kisses. “Tell me.”
I shake with anticipation and from the forwardness of his question. I’ve never been asked this before. Sex has never been about me, and I’ve certainly not been given options.
“Face,” I say, as mine turns red.
“Excellent choice.”
He kisses me long and hard before tossing me on the bed. I squeal, the sound turning into laughter that’s silenced by Tate crawling across the mattress like a predator on the prowl.
My belly tightens as he comes to a stop in front of me.
“You have the best tits I’ve ever seen,” he says, holding them in his palms. “Perfect shape. Perfect weight.” He flicks one nipple with his tongue, and it beads for him immediately. “So responsive.”
I hold the back of his head as he sucks the bud through his lips. The warmth and wetness of his mouth against my breast, and his fingers lightly pinching the other, disarms me. I slip a hand between my legs and gasp at how wet and hot I really am.
“ Stop .” He pulls back, gripping my wrist and withdrawing it from my groin. His eyes blaze. “Don’t.”
“I’m desperate,” I say, shivering.
“All of your orgasms are mine tonight.” He lies down, his head flat on the bed. His cocks stands at full attention. “Get over here and ride my face until you come.”
His words alone nearly make me come undone.
“Are you sure you won’t smother to death from this?” I ask.
“Can’t think of a better way to go out.”
I roll my eyes as I reach him.
“Straddle me and grab the headboard,” he says.
My brain screams, and I can hear the echo, but even that doesn’t stop me from putting one knee on either side of Tate’s head.
“If I die,” he says, grinning, “just know I went out at the peak of my existence.”
“Shut up,” I say, laughing.
“You can shut me up by sitting down and grinding your pussy on me.”
Ho-ly fuck. I’m really doing this.
I look down to see his eyes are nearly feral.
You only live once …
I grip the headboard with both hands and hover over Tate. His tongue parts me, licking a long, lazy stroke through my pussy.
“ Oh God .” I shudder.
It’s been too long. There’s too much pent-up sexual frustration to make this last. I’m on the verge of spiraling over the edge, and we’ve only just begun. I’m too close to breaking into a million pieces to worry about what I’ll look or sound like when I lose control.
“Take your time.” Tate’s fingers bite into my thighs. “We’re in no hurry.” He drags his tongue through me again. “I’m happy to lie here and eat you all night. This is all about you .”
“This is all about you.”
God.
I close my eyes and begin to move my hips, rocking back and forth in the most delicious, leisurely motion. Tate matches my rhythm with his tongue, stroking against my swollen flesh.
“ This is so good ,” I say, the pleasure so intense it’s nearly pain.
His palms move to my ass, massaging my cheeks and pulling me tighter to his face. I lower myself just a touch, enough to increase the friction by a hairsbreadth. It’s perfection—just the right amount of pressure to make me delirious and hold me back from descending into orgasmic bliss.
The thought of Tate’s mouth on my pussy—the sounds of him kissing and stroking my slit like it’s a fucking dessert—makes my head spin.
“Just like that.” I rock harder against him, my head falling back. “Fuck me just like that.”
He clamps down on my ass, holding me in place, and sucks my clit. It’s intense and electrifying, and I yell out as explosions rocket through my body.
“Tate!” I virtually scream, squeezing my eyes shut as bursts of colors nearly blind me. “Oh my God! I’m coming so fucking hard .”
I tremble, literally shaking against his face as he continues the decadent onslaught. My thighs are soaked. My breath is stuck in my chest. A full-body shudder slams through me as the sound of Tate sucking and licking fills the air.
I try to lift, but he pulls me down, holding me tight against his face. I sag against the headboard, moaning but unable to stop moving.
It feels too good.
Finally, his movements slow, and I’m able to lift off him. Tate assists my dismount and lays me next to him, his breathing as ragged as mine. He rolls onto his side and grins, licking the evidence of my orgasm off his lips.
“I’m going to go out on a limb and say you enjoy coming that way,” he says, his eyes twinkling.
I sink into the mattress, giggling. “What was your first clue?”
“You drenched me.” He chuckles, wiping his face with the sheet. “That was seriously the hottest thing I’ve ever done. Ever .”
My cheeks flush. Right. I don’t care that he’s probably said that to a thousand girls. He can say whatever he wants as long as he keeps delivering orgasms like that.
“Well, I can say with absolute certainty that nothing I’ve ever done has come close to that,” I say. “Face riding is officially my favorite way to come.”
“Don’t make that call this early in the night.”
This early in the night?
My limbs are exhausted, and my needs are more than met. They’re exceeded. But Tate, in all his youth, is still raring to go.
“Look, I don’t know—and don’t want to know—what kind of sex life you have,” I say. “But my stamina is apparently depleted because I’m dead.”
He sighs, shaking his head. “Sorry.”
“Sorry?”
He breaks out into a smile and hops off the bed. “You have about … eh, I’ll say three minutes to figure out how to reenergize yourself.”
“What are you talking about?”
He slides his hand down his shaft and grins. “I’m going to go wipe your pussy juices from my face and grab a condom. Then we’ll see how doggy style ranks.” His grin bleeds into a smirk. “Told you I could make juices sexy.”
I grab a pillow and halfheartedly throw it at him.
He laughs all the way to the en suite, leaving me to die alone.
But, oh, what a way to go .
I’m just getting my blood pressure back to normal when he waltzes into the room with the energy of a twenty-something-year-old man. Fitting .
“Over here,” he says. “Ass up. Let’s go. Move it.”
The fire in my core begins to reheat. “I just learned something new.”
“What’s that?”
“I can’t reenergize myself,” I say, rising slowly and moving to him. “But you can reenergize me pretty damn easily.”
“Good to know.”
He takes my face in his hands and kisses me like he means it. His skin is damp from the washcloth, and his mouth is hot. I can taste myself on his tongue. Even that turns me on.
Wow.
Suddenly, I’m horny all over again.
He flips me onto my stomach, then reaches under me and lifts. I’m on all fours, looking at him over my shoulder, as he takes his cock and lines it up with my opening. I hold my breath, not sure if he’s going to go slow or give me a moment to acclimate to him.
“I— oh fuck !” I say as he slides all the way inside me.
I sink back, squeezing my eyes shut as my body accepts his girth.
“You’re so damn tight.” His words are strangled. “I’m going to give it to you hard.” He pulls out and slides in again, slower this time. “Are you ready?”
That’s a complicated question, sir.
I ball the sheets up in my fists and brace myself. “Fuck me hard, Tate.”
“ Damn you .”
He grips my hips, his fingers digging so deep he finds my bones. He draws his cock out in a single, lazy pull. I start to relax and take a breath when he buries every inch of himself deep inside my pussy.
“Ah!” I yell, blinded once again by the intensity of Tate’s movements.
He slams into me repeatedly in long, delicious strokes. I meet him thrust for thrust, greedy for the pops of bliss each time the head of his cock hits the back of me.
“I love this,” I say, my voice broken by each wave of pleasure. “This is so, so good.” I arch my back. “ Oh yes . Right there. Harder.”
“Your pussy is gripping my cock so fucking tight.”
My core tightens again as another climax gathers. “I’m going to come again.”
“Do it. Come on my cock, Kelly. Bust all over me, gorgeous.”
I hiss as the buildup hits a boiling point, and I teeter on the edge. My arms tremble, giving out until I’m held up on my elbows. I arch my back, lifting my hips and inviting him to fuck me even harder.
“There!” I shout, meeting him thrust for thrust. “ There, Tate! Right … fucking … there.”
My face plants into the comforter as wave after wave crashes over me. Tate holds me up by my hips, refusing to let me deny myself any part of my orgasm. Being held and forced to absorb every drop of my climax is an act all of its own. I will think about this, reliving it over and over, for the rest of my life.
Tate slowly eases his tempo until he’s no longer moving at all. He stills, his cock buried inside me, then massages my ass cheeks.
“This ass is perfection,” he says, smacking me lightly. The sound cracks through the room, which, in turn, reignites the fire smoldering in my core. “I’d like to fuck this.”
“My ass?” I yelp.
He laughs. “I’ll take that as a no.”
“Hard no.” Well, maybe. At this point, I’d probably love it, too.
He pulls out and guides me gently to the mattress. I flop onto it in a very unsexy way. But I can’t help it. Every limb is jelly.
“I think you liked that one, too.” He chuckles.
I try to answer him, but the words are a muffled mess.
“I’m two for two,” he says. “Now come on. Let’s see if we can go three for three.”
He can’t be serious. I know I talked a good game and I’ve dreamed of a man who can’t get enough of me, but this is definitely biting off more than I can chew. I’m so, so wonderfully spent.
I don’t know who I am or how I got here, exactly, because nothing in my life would lead me to believe that I’d find myself in a stranger’s bed in postcoital bliss—especially an impossibly sexy stranger like Tate. But this is what I needed, and it’s better than anything I could’ve imagined. I’m protected by my anonymity. I’m free to indulge, enjoy, and explore.
To have an adventure …
“Roll over,” he says, helping me flip onto my back.
He’s peering down at me with a sweet smile when I open my eyes, which does things to my heart that I choose to ignore.
“Are you tired?” he teases. His features are so bright, so clear. It’s impossible not to smile at him.
“What does it look like to you?”
“What does it look like to me?” He tilts his head to the side. “It looks like you’re far less stressed than you were this afternoon.” He runs a hand up the inside of my thigh, setting off a firework display inside my belly. “And you look even more beautiful lying naked on my bed, spread out just for me.”
I glance down to see his cock still rigid. Still needing a release. Still ready for me .
“How did you not come from that?” I ask. “I’ve gotten off twice, and you … haven’t?”
He scoots me up to the middle of the bed.
“I didn’t come because I wanted to ensure you were satisfied,” he says. “And when I get off, I want to be looking at your pretty face. Not that your ass isn’t amazing.”
I laugh, blushing.
“But I want to see you.” He winks at me as he spreads my legs and places himself between them. “Is this okay?”
What kind of question is that?
“This is perfect,” I say, spreading wider for him. “I want to watch you fall apart, too.”
And I do.
Even though I’ve often loathed it when a man hovers over me when he gets off, mostly because I’ve not gotten close to a release, I need to see this man fall apart.
Tate puts a hand next to my head before positioning himself once again at my opening. He enters me slowly this time, sinking into me inch by precious inch.
I moan softly as he hovers over me, moving in and out in a lazily perfect rhythm.
His mouth lowers, his eyes searching mine. My heart swells in my chest as I lift my head, meeting him suspended in the middle. He takes a quick breath before capturing my lips with his.
This round is different from the others. It’s not less or more, just not the same. It’s without the fire and passion of the first two. Instead, it’s sweeter with more connection.
Although I have absolutely no business leaning into this version of sex with him, I can’t help myself.
I wrap my arms around his middle, feeling the sheen of sweat coating his skin and his muscles flexing.
Just as my core tightens and that now familiar fire begins to catch, Tate’s body begins to tremble.
“Come,” I whisper, tilting my hips to get the best angle possible. “I’m ready to come again, too.”
“Fuck.”
He groans, the sound starting deep in his throat and shaking as it passes his lips. I fight to keep my eyes open as my third orgasm of the night sweeps through me.
Tate’s Adam’s apple bobs as the vein in his temple pulses like I saw on the plane.
He pounds into me harder and as deep as he’ll fit, as sweat drips from his forehead onto my chest. He groans again, his face turning red as the climax reaches him.
“Dammit,” he says through gritted teeth.
He sinks into me all the way, holding himself there as he fills the condom with his seed. My body heats as I hold my chest in both hands and moan his name. Back arched. Eyes closed. Pussy firing on all cylinders.
“Does that feel good?” I whisper, squeezing my muscles around him. “It feels so good to me, Tate.”
Finally, he blows out a breath as the last bit of my orgasm fades away. I open my eyes to find his waiting for me.
“Wow,” I say.
He grins in return as he pulls out of me. “I was going to ask you if that was as good for you as it was for me, but there’s no way.”
“Oh, there’s a way.” I giggle. “You’re three for three.”
He laughs. “So you were reminded that you enjoy oral, doggy style, and missionary?”
“No.”
His brows pinch together.
“I discovered I love all three of those things when delivered like you just did,” I say as he lies beside me. “I’ve never experienced anything like that before.”
He presses his lips together and withholds whatever’s going through his mind. It doesn’t matter. I know he’s pleased with himself—as he should be.
“You said you wanted a bath with candles after dinner,” he says, lightly drawing a line down the center of my chest. “I have a bathtub and candles.”
“So prepared.”
“I do aim to please.”
You do a damn good job of it.
He hops off the bed and removes the condom.
His body flexes—taut, tanned, and strong. He’s a total work of art.
When will I ever get to do this again? When will I ever find myself in bed with a man nearly half my age who is not only willing but also eager to do things to me that no man has ever done before?
I take a deep breath, fighting the uptick in my heartbeat.
“I’ll get a bath running for us,” he says, stretching his arms overhead. The candlelight casts a sexy shadow over him. “But don’t come into the en suite until I tell you, okay?”
“Hey, Tate?”
“What, gorgeous?”
Fuck it . “How about we forget the bath and see if you can go four for four?”
His smirk is sinful.
A delicious shudder heats my body, and my heart flutters wildly. Madly . This is the romance-novel passion I’ve dreamed of experiencing. It’s intense and passionate—potentially destructive, but that’s a dark moment I’m willing to push off until later.
The climax is so worth it.
“Do you have anything in mind?” he asks as his cock hardens before my eyes.
I gulp, my face flushing. “I’ve always wanted to try reverse cowgirl.”
He chuckles as if he can’t believe my request.
“Are you laughing at me?” I lift a brow.
“I’m wondering how I got so fucking lucky.”
“Well, it’s probably— ah !”
I burst into a fit of giggles as he leaps on the bed and covers my body with his. His lips find mine, and he swallows the laughter, leaving me breathless.
Again.
It turns out I do, in fact, like anything this man does to me.