Chapter Seven
Grace
Huxley and I spill into a gorgeous suite at the Aylster Hotel. I didn’t want to take him to my place when the sheets that Peter and Viv used are still on my bed. We deserve better. So when I told him, “Your place,” he brought me here.
The lights come on automatically, casting a soft glow everywhere. I don’t have time to appreciate the beautifully appointed suite because the instant the door shuts, my back is being pressed against the cool wall.
His mouth claims mine, his tongue plundering me. He tastes like scotch, hot spice with a hint of smoke that’s intoxicating and sexy. Something dangerously exciting I’ve never felt before sizzles in my veins. It feels like every inch of my skin is on fire.
I whimper, digging my fingers into his powerful shoulders. I angle my head to deepen the connection.
With a soft groan, he puts a hand on the small of my back and pulls me closer. He’s all lean muscle and excitement— exactly what I’ve been looking for.
Yes, there was a zing that went up my spine when I looked into his beautiful blue-gray eyes at the bar. The tingly sensation that shivered through me when I got a sniff of his spicy cologne. The sudden dryness in my mouth when we shook hands, and how shockingly warm his bare skin felt—how my body seemed to sing as my blood heated.
But the most important thing is that he defended me against others unconditionally, without question or expecting anything in return. That’s never happened, not since Mom collapsed two years ago. It’s probably the reason I opened up to him more than I normally would have. And why I’m going to spend the night with him.
For the next few hours, I want to feel worthy of protection and care. Deserving of respect and some very hot sex.
I run my hands along his body. He has to be six-six, maybe taller. And underneath the expensive suit is a hardness that hints at massive strength.
A strength he used to keep me safe.
Another whimper rises in my throat, then gets trapped in our fused mouths. My breasts are crushed against him. Even though the layers of fabric, the contact feels more erotic than anything I’ve ever experienced. His free hand travels along my leg, then cups my ass, the touch sending sparks of heat through me.
Crossing my arms behind his neck, I move my leg along his pelvis restlessly, my clothes riding up and bunching around my upper thighs. He groans at my eagerness and slips his hand underneath my dress, smoothing it over my belly, which quivers at the touch.
“Jesus, you’re so soft.”
I smile at the lust-roughened voice. It makes me confident and sexy that he wants me so badly. “Yeah? Is that good?”
“ Very good. Just how a woman should be.”
“Then show me exactly how you’d treat a woman who wants you right now.”
I let out a surprised yelp as he picks me up. He kisses me as he carries me effortlessly past a door and into a softly lit room. Our bodies slide against each other as he lets me down, and I bite my lip at the way my nerve endings have come alive. I’m hyperaware, hypersensitive. And all we’ve done is kiss.
He lowers the zipper on my back and pulls the dress over my head. He lets out a sharp exhalation at the sight of my underwear—the black lacy bra, garter belt and sleek silk stockings…and nothing else.
Heat blazes in his darkened eyes as he takes me in. The tent between his legs grows bigger and tauter. I smile, drunk with desire and power. It’s so hot to see a man show his naked need.
“Like what you see?” I say, feeling naughty and bold.
“Enough to devour you now.”
My eyes on his, I take a slow step back, undo my bra and let it fall. “Then what are you waiting for?”
His eyes flare, then he’s on me, like a flash of lightning. My back hits the mattress with a soft bounce, and I laugh. But it soon turns to an anticipatory shuddering of breath when he threads his fingers through mine and spreads my arms, leaving my breasts completely exposed to his burning gaze.
“Pretty, pretty girl.” He dips his head and makes a lazy circle around one nipple. I shiver, the tip of my breast aching for more. From the tension in his hands I know he’s going crazy for me. But he’s reining himself in to prolong the moment. And the only reason a man takes his time is because he wants his partner to enjoy herself, too. Consideration I suddenly realize I’ve never received from Peter.
Huxley nips my nipple, just hard enough to sting but not enough to hurt, as though he knows my mind has wandered off for a bit. I banish Peter from my thoughts, this room, the planet and reality itself. He doesn’t deserve to be in bed with us, not even as a memory.
Huxley soothes the ache by licking my nipple, then pulling it into his mouth and sucking it hard. My back arches as liquid heat unfurls, pooling between my legs. He knows exactly how much pressure to exert, how to use his tongue and teeth to tease and arouse.
Every rational thought vanishes from my head. I pant, arching my back, writhing and rubbing my thighs along his pants. He’s nestled between my legs, and I tilt my pelvis, cradle his thick length along my dripping core. His cock pulses so hard I can feel it through the clothes.
Ah yes.
His breathing roughens; I rock myself against him shamelessly. It feels so, so good, but it isn’t enough. I’m just at the cusp without anything to push me over.
My fingers tighten around his. “Huxley.”
“Impatient for my cock, aren’t you?” He rolls his hips over mine, and I moan at the delicious sensation.
“Greedy for it.” I’m so close. I’ve never been wound this tight or felt like I’d die if I didn’t come soon.
“Spread your legs. Show me how greedy you are.”
I do it, pushing them apart as far as possible and leaving myself utterly exposed. The cool air on my heated pussy stokes my craving.
“So pink. So wet.” He purrs the words like a satisfied panther.
“For you.”
“Good girl.”
He shoots me a grin, the heat in his eyes intensifying. My heart pounds with anticipation of his cock gliding into me.
Instead, he moves down, his hands still holding mine, and buries his face in my dripping flesh.
I’ve had oral sex before. But what he does is nothing like I’ve ever experienced.
He’s lapping me up, licking me, sucking me, devouring me like he hasn’t been fed since forever. It’s as though his mouth was created for this. My back arches as he takes his fill between my thighs, and I scream as an orgasm rips through me.
Instead of stopping or wanting to take his turn, he keeps going, pushing me harder and faster to another peak, higher than the one before. But he’s not letting me come down, and I twist as another wave of need mounts even higher. His hold on my hands provides me an anchor, and I move my pelvis, rocking against his face. He groans with approval. The vibration pushes me over again.
Every cell in my body quivers. Breathing is a struggle. I’ve never experienced anything like this before in my life. The only thing that can reliably give me multiple orgasms is my vibrator, but no more than two, and the climaxes are nowhere near this mind-blowing.
“Take off your clothes,” I manage between panting breaths. “I want to feel you.”
He pulls away. His eyes are burning, and his mouth and jaw glisten with my juices. The contrast between the lewd sight above his neck and the neat three-piece suit is shockingly erotic—and makes me feel powerful that I’ve destroyed a cool, well-put-together man’s control.
Just like I did when I unhooked my bra, he keeps his eyes on mine as he strips out of his clothes, each piece falling to the floor with a whisper. I sensed his body was lean and powerful, but what’s left after the veneer of civilization has been peeled off takes my breath away. The sheer width of his shoulders, slabs of muscle all over the tall frame, and the tight six-pack and…
Oh my God.
I slowly sit up. His cock is even bigger than I expected. Dark veins pulse along the long, thick shaft so hard the head is touching his belly. But what’s even more shocking are the silver ring and bead sparkling at the head.
Without thinking, I reach out, then stop. Is it okay to touch it? I’ve never seen a pierced penis before, and don’t know what the proper protocol is.
He laughs softly, the sound washing over me like rich velvet. “Go ahead.”
Flushing, I stroke the metal carefully. It’s warm and smooth—and a bit slick from precum. His cock jerks, the veins darker and more pronounced.
“Never seen a pierced dick before?”
“Never. Did it hurt?”
“Nope. And it’s going to feel amazing for you.”
He puts on a condom and possessively loops my long hair around his fist. Then his mouth is on mine; I part my lips, welcoming him in. His free hand moves along the sensitive skin of my neck, shoulders; his thumb brushes over the center of my palm where all the lines cross.
Everywhere he strokes, pleasure pulses, then streaks through me and pools between my legs, as though his touch is turning even the most mundane parts of my body into erogenous zones.
I’ve never been with a man this attentive to me, this tuned in to my reactions. My head spins as my back arches again and mounting pleasure rushes up my spine. Everything is too much but not enough at the same time. I want this man inside me right now , feel him stretch and fill me. I want to experience the wild rebellion that lurks under that conservative three-piece suit.
The empty aching in my pussy grows so intense, I whimper against his mouth. I want to feel him inside me so badly, but he takes his time, even though his own body is shaking with need.
Push him over the edge.
I recall what he said about spreading my legs to show him how greedy I am for him. Placing my hands on my knees, I part them as widely as I can in offering and temptation.
“See how wet I am? See what I want?”
The tendon in his neck tenses, the vein in his forehead pulsing. His face twists, and something dark and hot and delicious shivers through me in anticipation and warning as a guttural growl starts in his chest.
His large hand grips my hip. “You sweet little slut.” His voice is low, but seething with undisguised desire.
How’s it feel to lose control? But I can’t control myself around him either, so we’re even. “If wanting you makes me a slut—”
He pushes in; the words are strangled in my throat. He’s so big, the pressure is enormous as he drives in. And the silver bead rubs against the inner wall of my slick pussy, stimulating me in a way I’ve never experienced before. I feel so full and overexcited. My toes curl.
“Oh my God.”
He laughs. “Not even all the way in yet.” He pushes forward hard and hilts himself, sending sparks shivering along my nerves.
It’s all I can do to suck in air. He feels even bigger inside, and the pulsing of his cock feels like some kind of primal mating heartbeat. Or maybe I’m too in tune with him. Whatever the case, it feels like I’m burning up.
“Hold on to your knees,” he orders, then retreats slowly, only to start thrusting with a power and speed that drive me wild. The bead and ring bump into spots in my vagina I didn’t know existed. And each time, pleasure strikes like a lightning bolt. I scream, writhe… Beg him to stop, to keep going forever…
I no longer know what I’m saying or doing. The only thing I can chase is another peak. But the second I reach it, he pushes me higher, then higher again. My vision turns hazy; I’m hot and shaking with more orgasms than I can count. Somehow, through it all, I manage to hold on to my knees. And he rewards me for my effort. Calls me a good girl. Tells me how much he loves my tight pussy and how beautiful I am when I climax.
Another peak, and all I can do is lie there, mouth open in a soundless scream as I shake, feeling like I’ll die from pleasure. Finally, he clutches me tightly and shudders against me, his face buried in the crook of my neck as his entire body goes rigid.
I let go of my knees and close my eyes as he slowly relaxes, hoping to prolong the moment before he turns over and falls asleep. I sense him get up and pad away. Hmm… What next? I’ve never had a one-night stand before, and have no clue what to do now. Since he left first… Is it a sign I should get going? Except I can’t even lift a finger at the moment.
The sound of flushing and running water. A moment later he returns, and the mattress dips. He spreads my legs and puts a cool, damp towel on my flesh. It feels surprisingly soothing. And makes me feel cared for and treasured.
Once he’s done, he wraps his arms around me, the gesture oddly protective and… possessive ?
“That’s a lot of firsts for one night,” I blurt out, my voice slightly raspy from screaming.
He frowns. “Are you saying you were a virgin?”
I chuckle. “No. But… A one-night stand. A pierced…” I gesture at his cock. “A guy bringing me a towel afterward. And—” I shut my mouth.
“And what?” His tone is lazy, beckoning me to take my time.
I blink, trying to recall how it went after he started to drive into me. Finally, I say, “Damn.”
“What?”
“You didn’t touch my clit even once after we got naked and I came.”
He considers for a moment. “Did you want me to?”
“No. I mean… It doesn’t really matter. It’s just that usually I can’t really finish without some stimulation there.” And Peter always rubbed it a few times to get me excited enough, like Aladdin rubbing the lamp just enough to get the genie out, no more. Then he made it sound like somehow it was my body that wasn’t responsive because other women weren’t like me.
“Well, now you know you can come without it. You’re welcome.”
I laugh at the cocky pride in his voice, then lay my arm over his chest. It’s nice to be held afterward and laugh.
His body radiates a comforting heat, and I nestle closer. My eyelids start to drift lower as exhaustion pulls at me.
“What’s your favorite breakfast?” he asks softly.
“Mmm…? Um…Belgian waffles with whipped cream and berries, topped with powdered sugar,” I mumble. It was what Mom ordered when she wanted to spoil me. There was a diner not too far from where we lived when I was a kid, and the owner always gave her a small discount and asked us how we were doing and if we needed anything. In retrospect, it’s obvious he liked her. I wish he ’d been my dad. Then we would’ve been happy even if we lacked the material abundance of the Webbers.
Not gonna make the mistake Mom made. Gonna marry a man who loves me and treats me like a queen, I think drowsily as Huxley places tender kisses on my forehead.