Chapter Eleven #3
It’s about an hour later when I finish my work and head inside.
I’m an idiot for staying up this late when I have to wake up again in six hours to start my day.
May seem crazy to get up that early to work out in my isolated lodge in the woods, but I don’t like getting lazy.
I don’t like being idle, either. So I keep my routine consistent.
The minute I walk through the back door into the kitchen, I freeze.
I shouldn’t care, I shouldn’t even be tempted.
But when I see Mara standing in one of my thermal shirts and a pair of underwear at the kitchen island, my whole body quivers with need.
It’s been over a month since I last fucked someone and a half naked, gorgeous woman standing in my kitchen at midnight isn’t helping.
At the sight of her bare legs and the lower half of her curved ass, my cock does a little twitch like a dog catching the scent of its prey. With that, the air in my lungs hardens for a minute before I can breathe again.
“I…” her voice trails off when the weight of my attention falls on her. “I found your liquor cabinet, I was just making a drink.” Then I notice the bottles of whiskey and bitters on the countertop beside a glass of ice. Looks like she’s already poured a bit of sugar in the glass.
“Want one?” The nervousness in her voice draws my attention back up to her eyes that carry more emotion than they should. Self doubt. Arousal. Hesitation. Curiosity. Longing.
Does she want me to make a move?
Would we be able to coexist as roommates with benefits?
I’ll give her credit, she’s not crumpling into a ball of humiliation for the state I caught her in.
I don’t know if this is a good idea. I’ll be a man and admit I’m attracted to Mara, her curvy body turns me on, but then I look at her face and remember who she is. What she’s done. The person she was in high school.
But I’m not the kid I was then. I know she’s not the girl from the bathroom anymore, but maybe a part of her is—or was.
I don’t know, this is all confusing and I can’t concentrate on anything when she bears part of her ass as she leans over the counter to stretch for the jar of cherries.
She has to know what she’s doing, right?
She has to know her round ass hangs beneath the shirt a bit and I can see the curve of her cheeks.
She has to know that when she lifts on her toes and bends over the farmhouse sink to wash the spoon she used to stir that I can see where her underwear disappears between her ass cheeks. There’s no way she’s that oblivious.
I can’t take it anymore. I don’t care if this little show is an invitation or not.
Without a second thought, I plant my hands on her solid hips and breathe in her scent at the nape of her neck all at once.
My touch makes her jerk in surprise which only backs her into my chest so I have a tighter hold on her.
And even better, it presses her round ass into my hardening cock. She’s extremely aware of how turned on I am.
The sound of my heavy inhale and her stuttering breaths mingles in the air, the only sounds I register at all. When I graze my teeth over her throat I feel the quick pulse beneath, I feel it all the way from my lips to my dick.
Fuck. She smells insanely good. It’s warm and comforting like a wool blanket in bed on a snowy day, laced with something floral.
And her skin is pure silk. Every sensation is clouding my judgment and my thoughts, I can’t think clearly with her captured between the side of the sink and my hard body.
The last time I felt her this close, she was unnaturally thin and pliable in my grasp.
Now, she’s a handful, a woman with the body of one.
A narrow waist that I easily snake one arm around beneath the shirt as my teeth take a quick pull of her earlobe eliciting a soft moan from her.
She’s divine.
When she doesn’t protest my hold or try to free herself, I take it as silent permission for me to go further. The arm around her waist lifts so her heavy breasts are supported by my forearm while my free hand splays over the expanse of her stomach in a slow dip toward her panty line.
She has limited pairs of underwear and of course tonight is the night she decides to sleep in them. No matter. It’s like unwrapping a present.
I slip one finger beneath the flexible fabric, then another, and another until my entire hand is beneath the flimsy barrier and I can feel the little tuft of hair at the apex of her thighs. I usually prefer a woman bare, but seeing as she doesn’t have a razor, I can understand.
Just makes the mission to the center that much more rewarding.
When my hand dives between her legs in one long, languid slide to her center, she drops her head back to my shoulder.
At the feel of her soaking wet pussy, a low growl hums through my chest and up my throat.
Mara’s body tenses at the sound and the feel of me, but that’s no detriment to me.
It only eggs me on. I lick from her earlobe to the top around the entire shell of her ear and one finger dips into her wet cunt and pulls out again.
I wish I could see her glistening on me, but I’m not about to break this powerful hold I have on her.
So instead, I slip a second finger in. When her gasp turns into a moan, I know she’s in agony under my slow torture.
That’s exactly what she deserves, to writhe with need, to need me as much as I needed her. To want me as much as I wanted her.
The only problem is I still want her.
I want her badly. I want to bend her over the sink and fuck her until she’s screaming. I want to feel her come around my cock. I want to come in her.
But I’m not about to give her that. It’s too easy, too generous to a woman who crushed my spirit and humiliated me. Too nice for the girl who was so mean and made me believe she wanted me.
Well, she wants me now. So I’ll show her the beast she’s cursed.
I pump my fingers in and out a few times before spreading her arousal all over her hard clit.
I drop the arm looping her rib cage so my hand spreads over her lower abdomen and press, opening her ever so slightly for me so her clit peeks out even more.
The breath in her throat hitches and stutters, her body goes rigid before melting into my hold.
Her head lolls to one side exposing her slender neck to me again and I hover my mouth over her skin, letting my breath dance over the sensitive skin.
She’s so pliable, so willing, so desperate. It gives me a sick satisfaction that the woman who made my life hell is now under my control. As long as my fingers keep circling her clit at this smooth, leisurely pace, she’s completely at my mercy.
“Jason,” she sighs. And it draws me back. I was so lost in the lust I forgot where I was, too fixated on how tight her pussy felt and how warm she is in my hands, back to my chest.
Jolted out of my trance, I pull away suddenly. Let her feel the mind altering desperation and disappointment I felt on prom night.
She spins on me with a look so cold and ferocious a weaker man might have been terrified. But I’m not weak. And I’m not afraid of her. I match her look of rage with an amused one of my own as I dip my wet fingers in my mouth and suck her off me. The act makes her nostrils flare.
“No, fuck no. You’re not getting off that easy.” She declares as though she can stop me. Like I owe her an orgasm or something.
I head for the stairs but she stops me in my tracks with a line I can’t resist, one I can’t back down from.
“Finish what you started,” she demands. Then the pitch of her voice drops deathly low as she finishes, “or I will finish it myself.”
Challenge accepted.
I turn on her so fast she doesn’t have a second to prepare before I have her pinned against the wall with a hand at her throat. Her pupils dilate and I know she likes that.
Interesting. I wouldn’t have guessed Mara would be into that. But there’s no mistaking the eager excitement in her gaze when my fingers flex on her throat.
Before she even knows what’s happening, I’m on my knees in front of her with my head buried between her legs and her underwear pulled to one side, driving my tongue into that tight pussy.
“Oh god,” she sighs at my explorative touch.
I taste every inch of her inside and out.
Committing her flavor to memory and trying not to notice the way my body reacts to hers.
I’ve eaten plenty of girls out but I don’t usually feel this crazy hunger when I do.
Usually, I want to make them see stars so my reputation improves.
But I’m starving for her. Starving to taste her come on my tongue.
With one hand on her thigh, I prop her leg on my shoulder to grant me more access to what I want, to what I need. Mara braces her hands flat against the wall down by her hips for balance.
“Fuck,” she hisses.
If she wants to challenge me then fine, I’ll exceed expectations and make her beg for release, leave her so satisfied she’ll be begging for more. But that won’t happen. I’ll give her a taste of what she threw away and leave her wishing she could have it all.
But greed is a sin, so I’m told. And sinners deserve to be punished.
My arm loops over her raised thigh so my thumb reaches her clit and presses down. Hard. Tight circles on the bud of nerves drives her wild and she starts panting harder and harder, body unable to stay still as my tongue and thumb work together to drive her to the edge of madness.
It’s when her fingers lace through my hair that I know she’s close. Just where I want her.
That’s the moment I choose to slip my tongue out and bite her clit tenderly while plunging three fingers into her cunt and go to town.
“Jason. Oh god. Jason, don’t stop. You’re going to make me—” Her cries muffle when she bites her lip to stifle the sounds of her orgasm as they echo in the quiet kitchen.
According to previous lays, most men don’t do what I do.
They stop as soon as it sounds like a girl has come.
I, on the other hand, increase the pressure when I hear that tell tale cry.
I bury my face deeper as her body vibrates with tension and stiffens at my touch.
I lick her through the orgasm until her breathing grows heavy and her weight deepens against my shoulder. Then I release her and let her slide to the floor.
She thinks she’s done, she thinks this was a one sided encounter and now she can go to bed satisfied by me.
Think again, prom queen.
I rise from the floor so my pelvis is in line with her face and start to unzip my pants, pulling my rock hard cock from its prison. It almost hurts how hard I am, I so badly need to come. And she’s going to do it for me.
I point my cock directly at Mara’s mouth earning me a death glare. I watch carefully as the resentment turns into a fire meeting my challenge as she grabs my cock with a pull that shouldn’t be as sexy as it is. She’s a little rough but that’s ok. I like it rough.
She shoves my dick in her mouth without further instruction and starts licking, sucking, humming.
Up and down. Root to tip. Driving me wild.
There’s no gentle ease into the act. There’s no tenderness or teasing touches.
It’s all fire and burning hatred sprinkled with lust. She wants this even if she doesn’t want to admit she likes it.
But that rage softens to desire as her eyes roll back in her head and she gives into this. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she enjoys sucking my cock.
But fuck, I certainly enjoy it. She’s taking me like I was made for her, I fit so perfectly inside her mouth and it makes me wonder if I’d fit perfectly inside her cunt too.
Such vigor, such ferocity. She’s an animal starving for it.
And her mouth works so well that I’m ready to come way sooner than I’d like.
I want to draw this out as long as possible and make her take my dick as long as I can.
But she’s too good. She’s too sexy. Heat blooms at the base of my spine, my balls tighten but the agony of that is quickly washed away when I can’t hold back any longer so I jerk my hips back releasing my dick from her mouth, the pop of her lips over my head lingers between us before I give myself one tug to explode come all over her pretty face.
White beads of it drip from her forehead to her cheeks to her chin.
The fiery resentment on her face is almost as satisfying as my orgasm.
But what she does next kills me. She swipes a finger through the come on her face and sucks it into her mouth like a fine delicacy before standing to meet my glare. A foot shorter than me and she has more balls than most of the men I’ve met in my life.
In all honesty, I’m impressed and quite amused by the way she holds her shoulders back and head high. Nothing can destroy this woman, nothing can break her. She continues to surpass my low expectations and rise above the standard. Even her blow job is probably the best one I’ve ever had.
Oh fuck.
This isn’t the last time we do something like this. It can’t be. We still have four more months in this house together and it’s going to be damn near impossible to resist her now that I know how good her mouth feels. How tight her body is. And how primal sex with Mara Meyers can be.
She swipes a rag from the counter to cleanse her face, takes the untouched drink from the counter where it leaves a ring of condensation, shoots me a seductive, malicious glare, then heads up stairs, ass bouncing with each step.
Fuck! I’m screwed.