Chapter 5 Elle #2
He’s big. I can tell that much through the layers separating us, and suddenly I want nothing more than to have him inside me.
His tongue slips tentatively past my teeth, flicking against mine as one of his palms finds my spine, pressing me tighter into him. Once more, I’m taken aback by the chill of his touch, and I make a noise of surprise that he swallows.
I feel trapped, unable to move within the compact space of his embrace, but it doesn’t particularly bother me.
If anything, the restriction heightens my senses. The scent of his cologne envelops me, and his frigid fingers relieve my heated flesh.
“You’re cold,” I mutter against his mouth.
“You’re hot,” he sends back.
“Very astute observations there.”
He pulls away, just an inch or so, wiping a bit of saliva from the corner of my mouth. “Is it bothersome? The temperature? It’s not something I can…turn off, but…”
A blush stains his cheeks, and my heart hammers behind my rib cage.
“No.” I shake my head, leaning into his grasp. “It feels amazing.”
He kisses me again, abandoning my breast to cup my cheeks. This time, it steals my breath, throwing me completely off-kilter as he maneuvers me, deepening the gesture, seeking more.
More, more, more.
My brain chants that single word over and over, craving everything all at once.
Chest heaving, I lift my ass to grant him better access, but he keeps me flush with his lap.
When I reach for the fly of his pants, he pulls away on a staggered grunt. He watches as I work the button free with shaky fingers, then leans in, sweeping the hair from my shoulders.
“Is this part of the role?” he whispers, lips grazing my collarbone.
Nodding, I lean over the console, patting my coat pockets for the condom tucked inside. I straighten and slide back on his thighs a bit, tearing the foil with my teeth.
“Opening night,” I manage.
“We skipped some rehearsal.” He pushes my dress up, exposing my lace panties. Black with a little red bow on the front.
“Haven’t you ever done a cold read?”
He shifts, dragging the flat of his thumb over my pubic bone, down the center. His eyes stay on mine as he brushes my clit, the friction of the lace coupled with his deliberate stare making my stomach cramp.
It’s a little unnerving how he slips between scandalized Boy Scout and experienced sex god with just the flip of his hands. Like a mask he can take off whenever he pleases.
A part of me wonders if we have that in common. The compartmentalization that keeps us sane.
“Of course I have. But are you sure you want to do this with a stranger?”
I undo his zipper, our breaths ratcheting with each clink of its teeth parting. His abs contract as I slide my hand beneath the elastic waist of his boxers, gripping him in my fist.
Yep, big. Heavy. My mouth waters at the weight in my palm as he stiffens beneath my touch.
“It helps to think of it as a part, understudy,” I say. “We’re just two people taking on important roles.”
“With no audience.”
“Would you like one?”
He seems to consider this, then swipes his tongue over a diamond-hard nipple while his thumb presses just so between my thighs. “No,” he admits, his breath warm on my skin. “I don’t think I want anyone else to see you like this.”
My throat dries up. “Good, you’re getting into character.”
“You’re wet,” he notes.
“Everyone’s different, but that tends to happen when a good-looking person has their hands all over me.” My face heats, and I fish the condom from its wrapper. “Doubly so when they’re a good kisser.”
His smirk incinerates something inside me. “Good-looking and a good kisser. Hm. Quite the package you have beneath you.”
No kidding. “I’m afraid I’ll require a bit more proof.”
“Huh?”
I give him a squeeze, and he jolts, his thumb making me see stars.
It’s a single rush of force against my pulse point, and it scatters my nerve endings.
Pinching the tip of the rubber, I position it at the head of him, but he quickly brushes my hands aside, lifting his hips so he can pull his pants down more.
“Let me,” he says.
My heart throbs once his cock is fully out, and he fists it in one palm, taking the condom. His fingers tremble as he slowly unrolls it on himself and releases an unsteady breath.
I inch forward while he holds it straight, positioning myself.
His chest heaves with each passing second, rising and falling as sweat slicks across his forehead.
I lean in, licking a droplet before it can fall into his eyebrow, then continue a path with my tongue down the side of his face, pausing to taste his bottom lip.
Our eyes lock when his tip bumps against me. I reach under my ass, tugging my panties aside, and slowly sink down.
His free hand tangles in my hair, grounding me in place as he dives in for another kiss. I’m unsteady, unpracticed, and this car is small, so the bite of painful resistance between my legs is not entirely unexpected.
Frustration bleeds into me when I can’t glide him right in, and I pull back, glaring at where we’re connected.
“Are you okay?” he asks, swallowing loudly.
I nod. “Fine, just—can I—”
My hand hovers close to his, and after a long, weighted pause, he relents. I wrap my fingers around him and angle my hips to take him better.
“What do you need?”
“Nothing,” I grit out, annoyed and on the verge of tears when it still isn’t working. God, what an embarrassing time for my body to fail. “It’s just—”
I suck in a startled gasp when he presses two wet fingers to my clit, swirling gently. Pressure coils in my abdomen, and I nearly collapse with the euphoria that races through me.
His cock sinks in an inch.
“There’s no point if you’re not enjoying it,” he says, and I blink up at this stranger, wondering why he’s so thoughtful and attentive when he barely knows me.
Not even the people I’ve known my entire life have ever cared this much about my feelings or comfort, no matter the situation.
Asher always thought I was a brat. Quincy thought I was too emotional. My parents, I think, often didn’t know what to do with me if I wasn’t acting. Eventually, I learned to keep the mask on, playing whatever role made them most comfortable.
When I went to LA, the mask was so embedded within me that I’d forgotten there was pain and fear I’d stuffed somewhere. I lost sight of myself, my passions, and let them be exploited.
Sitting here now, all the reminders come rushing back just with this man’s acknowledgment, and I let out a strangled noise, overwhelmed by everything.
“It helps if you come, right?” he asks. “Can you do it like this?”
I swallow over the knot in my throat and nod again. “I-if you put them inside me, it goes much faster. Usually.”
His eyes glaze over as he lifts me off his cock, replacing it with one finger while his thumb remains on my clit. He watches me as if cataloging my reactions and storing them to redouble his efforts.
My mouth falls open, and I press my forehead to his as he creates a heady longing in my stomach. He curls forward, stroking languidly, and when he manages to slip a second finger in, my composure falters.
“I didn’t think you’d be good at this,” I pant.
He chuckles. “I’m a quick learner, remember? And I suppose it helps that I’ve been thinking about doing exactly this from the moment I handed you that vibrator.”
I place one hand on his thigh behind me, leaning back, and cock an eyebrow. “Really? I thought I’d messed everything up.”
“On the contrary, temptress,” he replies, covering the point of my breast with his mouth.
He teases the tip of my nipple, his fingers working in and out of me, and I can’t concentrate on any one thing as electricity sparks at my spine, spiraling upward.
“I didn’t think you were messy enough. Allow me to remedy that though. ”
My mouth opens to reply, but I’m cut off by a spasm, my inner muscles clenching tighter and tighter.
“There it is. You look so hot taking my fingers like this,” he praises, making my stomach flip violently as the lewd squelching sounds grow incredibly loud in the car. “Tell me what you want, Elle.”
“Don’t say my name like that,” I whine.
“Why? Do you like how it sounds?”
I nod, my insides swirling. Euphoria singes every cell in my body, lighting me aflame.
“Elle, Elle, Elle,” he taunts, his lips vibrating against my sensitive, puckered flesh. “Jesus. You’re soaking my lap, temptress. How long has it been since someone made you come?”
“I–I don’t—”
“Of course you don’t remember. No one’s ever felt this good inside you, have they?” His tongue lashes at my skin, and then he’s curling his fingers, brushing a spot that sends a wave of delicious pressure through me.
“Fuck,” I pant, squeezing around him, losing my hold on the situation as he continues.
Normally, I’d push back. Regain control.
But right now, I don’t want to.
It happens quickly, my orgasm rising and chasing out all other thought as he continues stretching and filling me. I feel him in my chest, in my throat, wherever nerve receptors exist in my body.
They explode on impact, stealing my vision for the briefest of moments. I come hard, gasping for clarity, for air, for this stranger making me see stars.
He’s right. It’s never felt this way before.
I flood his hand as I crest the edge of oblivion, an animalistic noise shrieking out of me. Sweat beads on my forehead, and I struggle to catch my breath, even as he keeps stroking me.
“Beautiful,” he notes quietly, finally lifting his head. “Feel better?”
My breasts are heavy, slick, and swollen, matching my pussy. I nod and let out a little laugh, then reach for him once more. He eases out of me, raising his hand to his mouth and sucking my juices off each finger, one by one.
“Are you just getting out of a serious relationship or something? I find it hard to believe a guy who doesn’t know how to flirt can—”
“Make you come with his fingers?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say you made me.”
“Right, I just coaxed it out of you.”
I frown. “Just answer my question.”