Chapter 11
Isabelle
I lose all control, dissolving into pure sensation, every nerve in my body electric and lit up like someone flipped a switch I didn't know I had.
He's worshipping my breasts, his mouth hot and wet and relentless, sucking and biting and using his tongue in ways that send waves of heat straight between my legs.
It's so intense I can barely think straight, can barely remember my own name, and I'm making sounds I've never made before, high and desperate and completely beyond my control.
I push up on shaking arms, shoving him back slightly, and start to unbuckle his belt with trembling fingers. He grins down at me, smug and knowing and so fucking pleased with himself, and I want to wipe that look off his face.
Or maybe keep it there forever. I haven't decided yet. I yank his jeans down along with his boxer briefs in one impatient motion, not bothering to be careful or sexy about it.
His cock is right in front of me and I stop breathing for a second. He's big. Thick and hard and flushed dark at the tip, already leaking precum, and I realize it's been a very long time since I've had sex. My mouth goes dry and then immediately waters, which is confusing and annoying.
But attitude is everything. Never let them see you sweat.
"Well, someone's confident," I say, trying to sound unimpressed even though I'm absolutely staring and we both know it.
He laughs, his hand coming up to cup my face with a gentleness that makes my chest tight. I'm kneeling on the bed looking up at him, panting and flushed and leaning into his touch before I can stop myself.
It's impossible not to respond to him, impossible not to want more of whatever this is.
He drops to his knees in front of me, his hands sliding up my thighs, and pulls my last remaining piece of clothing off.
My lacy underwear slides down my legs, catching slightly on my knees before hitting the floor.
He tosses them aside without looking and stares at my pussy, his eyes hungry and reverent.
He leans down, getting closer, his breath hot against my inner thigh, and I realize with a jolt of panic exactly what he's about to do. His hands spread my legs wider and I can feel his exhale against my wet skin.
"Er, no thank you," I stutter out, my voice higher than normal, and he looks up in surprise, his hands freezing on my thighs.
"Did you just say no thank you?" He grins, clearly trying not to laugh. "Like I offered you a dinner mint?"
I make a move to kick him with my foot but he catches it, his fingers wrapping around my ankle and holding it gently but firmly.
"Don't make fun of the woman you're about to sleep with," I say, fighting a giggle. "It's considered rude. And listen, I don't have guys go down on me. It's just not something I do."
He pauses, his expression shifting from amused to curious, his thumb still tracing slow circles on the inside of my ankle that are very distracting.
"Can I ask why not? Because if it's about willingness, trust me, I'm extremely willing.
" He smiles, and leans in slightly, his lips brushing the inside of my knee.
"I've been thinking about tasting you for two weeks. "
I gasp, caught completely off guard, and equal parts of me are at war. Half of me wants to grab his head and shove it exactly where I want it. The other half wants to hide away.
"It's just so…" I trail off, struggling to find the words, hating that I'm struggling. "I don't know, vulnerable. Like, so exposed. I hate it."
Embarrassingly, my hard nipples and soaking wet pussy seem to say otherwise. My body is a complete traitor. But thankfully the fear of being that open, that seen, is stronger than the want. Emotional unavailability prevails.
He nods slowly, not laughing now, just looking at me with those warm eyes.
He climbs up my body until he's face to face with me, his weight settling over me in a way that feels grounding instead of trapping.
His skin is hot everywhere we're touching, his cock hard and insistent against my hip, his eyes locked on mine with an intensity that makes me dizzy with something.
"Then I won't," he says simply. "Whatever you're comfortable with, Isabelle.
No pressure, no expectations. But if you change your mind.
.." He trails off, grinning that devastating grin, and then kisses me deeply, his tongue sliding against mine, one hand cupping my face while the other slides down to grip my hip.
I melt into him, grateful and turned on and a little bit wrecked by how he didn't push or make it weird. He kisses me deeply and I kiss him back, his cock sliding against my wetness, hot and hard and right there. And then an idea hits me and I push him back slightly, grinning.
"You know, I might not be into that, but I'll tell you what I am into," I say, trying to sound haughty and confident.
He smiles, looking interested. "Oh yeah? Let me guess, you brought a whip to your Napa trip and you've been waiting for the right moment?"
"You wish," I say, gasping as his fingers trail down my stomach, making my breath catch. "No, but I did bring a few toys with me. For my own pleasure, obviously. And if you're good, I might let you use one of them on me."
He blinks, processing, and then groans and buries his face in my breast like he's in pain. "You're killing me, Isabelle. You can't just say things like that."
I laugh, squirming as he bites gently at my nipple. "Ah, that tickles!"
"That's your punishment," he murmurs against my skin, then comes back up and kisses me hard, and I'm his again, completely helpless to fight it.
We kiss and grind against each other, his cock hot and slick along my thighs. I moan into his mouth, my hips moving restlessly, urging him closer to where I need him, needing him inside me in a way I don't think I ever have with anyone else before.
"Alright, fuck it," he says abruptly, pulling back and standing up, looking down at me sprawled on his bed. "Where are these toys you speak of?"
I giggle, writhing on the bed as he stands above me, his cock hard and jutting out from his body. The sight makes my mouth water. "Er... in my cardigan pocket. It's a pink rose vibrator."
He throws his head back and laughs, looking delighted, then looks down at me with the smuggest expression I've ever seen on a human face. "Wow, you really planned on fucking me when you came over tonight, huh? Damn, you must have been lusting after me this whole time."
I kick his shin hard enough to make a point and he laughs, catching my ankle again and kissing the inside of my knee.
"If you keep sassing off to me you're not going to get to use it. And I am a woman who knows what she wants, so shut up and get it."
"Thank god for that," he says, and reaches to the floor where my cardigan was tossed earlier. He digs through the pocket and pulls out my rose toy, small and pink and shaped like a rose bud, and turns it over in his hand, examining.
"Need instructions?" I smirk, propping myself up on my elbows to watch him.
He presses the button and it buzzes to life in his hand, the petals vibrating. He looks at me, eyes dark and hungry. "I think I get the gist. But you're going to tell me if I'm doing it wrong."
He turns back toward his jeans on the floor, stopping at the pocket and pulling out his wallet, fishing for a condom.
"You don't have to use that," I say, blinking up at him from the bed.
He swallows hard. Hah. Got him.
"See," I continue casually, "I'm on birth control and as long as you're clean, we could have a little fun without it."
He swallows again, his Adam's apple bobbing. "You're sure?"
I nod. "Yes, but are you clean? Because so help me god, Alex, you better be."
He laughs, setting the condom aside on the nightstand. "I am clean. See, I get tested regularly. Last time was two months ago, clean bill of health, and there's been no one since then."
I nod approvingly. "Good.” And I reach up and pull him back down on top of me by his shoulders, kissing him hard, my legs wrapping around his waist.
We shift on the bed until he's hovering over me, propped on one elbow, and his other hand flicks the rose toy on. The buzzing fills the room and my stomach flips with anticipation and nerves I refuse to acknowledge.
He slides it down my body slowly, dragging it between my breasts, over my stomach, making me squirm. When he finally presses it against my clit, I gasp loudly.
"Oh!" I cry out, my hands flying up to grip his shoulders, nails digging in.
I involuntarily buck my hips up and some small part of my brain, that distant part of me that had been wanting this probably since I first saw him walk into Solstice's kitchen, that voice in my head that's been rooting for some genuinely good sex, is absolutely thrilled right now.
He experiments with the rose toy, moving it in slow circles around my clit, adjusting the pressure, watching my face the whole time with a small smile that's equal parts smug and fascinated.
"So this is how you've been relieving your stress after all those long days?" he asks, leaning down to kiss my neck, his voice vibrating against my throat. "In your cottage, all alone, using this on yourself?"
"If you must know, I—oh!—um, yes, I find it to be very helpful when unwinding to have a good masturbation session with—yes!
Yes right there!" I dissolve into the pleasure as he presses it harder against my clit, finding exactly the right spot, his other hand gripping my hip and holding me down as he leans over me and kisses me deeply, swallowing my moans.
To be fair, he really didn't need instructions on how to use it. He's reading my body perfectly, adjusting to every gasp and moan.
He pulls back from the kiss and leans down, biting my earlobe gently before whispering, "Well, I could have helped you with that, you know. I would have been very happy to. All you had to do was knock on my door."