Chapter 22 #2
His eyes come to mine. He gives me a half grin. “But it’s gonna be a bit.”
“But…why?” I’m really okay with it being now. Like right now.
“Because I don’t even have you completely naked. I haven’t made you come yet. I’ve barely gotten my hands on you.”
Much to my regret, he rocks back on his heels and stretches upright.
“But you can do all of that. Later. After,” I protest.
His grin grows. “I like seeing you a little desperate.”
“I… well…I…” Am I desperate? My gaze drops to the massive bulge behind his fly.
Yes. Yes, I am.
“But you’re going to be so much more so soon,” he says, stepping close. His gaze settles between my legs again.
I’m still spread open and naked from the waist down. I can only imagine how wanton I look.
A shiver of pleasure goes through me as I note the heat in his eyes and the way his jaw tightens as he looks down at me as if he’s barely containing himself.
I love this feeling. It’s powerful, feeling sexy like this.
And knowing that I don’t need to worry about Alex.
He’s not going to be intimidated by what it means to be with me like this.
Not like the men I’m used to. The guys in Rebel.
The guys who know I’m the town sweetheart and have not just two grandfathers looking out for me but have an entire village—literally—of people invested in what happens to me. Including my dating life.
“Show me those pretty tits,” Alex says. “I want a taste before you play with them while I eat you to your first orgasm.”
Yeah, um, Alex isn’t worried about who I am or who in Rebel might have an opinion about this. Or him. Or anything.
I slide my loose, silky shirt over my head and toss it.
He blows a breath out and shakes his head. “Fucking pretty as hell.” He leans in, bracing a hand beside me, his other hand going to my chest and pressing me back onto the mattress.
He looms over me. “You are going to remember tonight.”
I wet my lips and nod. “I know.”
He lowers his head and licks his hot tongue over one nipple. I arch closer, wanting so much more. “Alex,” I moan.
“That’s right. Use my name.” He moves to the other side, licking with a firm stroke, then sucking.
Heat streaks through me, settling in my pussy, my clit throbbing with the need for friction and pressure.
My hands go to his shoulders, and I run them down over his arms, feeling the muscles bunching and relaxing as he holds himself up with his left arm and cups my breast with the right.
He squeezes, kneads, toys with the nipple between his thumb and first finger.
He rolls it, pinches, and plucks, and I desperately want to squeeze my thighs together to try to relieve the aching there.
His big body is between my thighs though, preventing me from moving them together.
So I lift up, seeking contact with his hard body instead.
Anything. I just need pressure against my clit.
“Greedy girl,” he mutters against my right breast as I rub against him. He drags his teeth lightly over my nipple.
“Yes,” I say, practically panting. “Please.”
“Please, what?”
“I need more.”
“More what?”
“More of you.”
He sucks hard on my nipple while pinching the other one.
I cry out. And rub shamelessly against the fly of his jeans. The rough fabric against my clit is torture and relief at the same time.
“Are you getting the front of my jeans wet, Wildflower?” he asks, lifting his head.
Maybe. I don’t even care. No one has ever talked to me like this, talking about my body so graphically, calling out my wetness, and my neediness, and being so blatant about looking at me, tasting me, touching me.
I fucking love it.
I grab his ass, holding him against me as I rub against him even more brazenly.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” he tells me. “You want to make yourself come?” He grinds into me slightly. “Take what you need, pretty girl.”
I do the hip circle again, rubbing my clit against the denim and the big, very hard ridge behind the denim.
“It’s… not enough,” I tell him, but still rubbing anyway.
“What do you need?”
“Fingers.”
He pauses, then I swear I see a glint in his eyes. “Yes.” He shifts back, holding himself up away from me. “Do it.”
I pause. I have nothing to grind against now, and it takes me a second to realize he means…
“Your fingers,” I correct.
He shakes his head. “You know exactly what you need. Show me.”
Oh…wow. I’ve definitely never done this in front of another person. I’ve done it plenty. I prefer using a vibrator. It’s faster. But can I get myself off with my fingers? Of course.
With Alex Olsen watching, though?
I look up into his eyes. He’s watching me with a heat I’ve never seen before. His cheeks are flushed, too. He’s breathing faster. His wide, hard chest rises and falls quickly. His abs and shoulders are flexed. He’s holding himself tight.
Because he’s turned on.
On a deep, chemical, intuitive level, I know that Alex Olsen is holding himself back from taking me. His animal instinct is to just fuck me. But he’s holding back, making this extra good, extra hot. Extra memorable.
I swallow hard, then flatten my hand against my stomach before sliding it lower, between my legs.
His nostrils flare as his eyes lock on my hand.
I run my middle finger over my clit, giving a soft moan of relief. Yes, I can’t deny that I need that. I slide lower, dipping my finger just inside. I’m so wet. My eyes go to the front of Alex’s jeans.
“I did get you wet.” I can’t believe those words just came out of my mouth.
He looks down at the darker spot on the fly of his jeans. “Jesus.” His gaze finds mine. “That’s hot as fuck.”
I bite my bottom lip.
“Make yourself come, Wildflower.”
I slide my finger deeper into my pussy, then drag it out and circle my clit, faster and faster.
Rather than being weird with him watching, it makes it all even hotter. I love watching his face as he watches my finger. The way this is turning him on only serves to make my body tighten faster. I’m moving quickly toward my climax. I press harder and moan again. “I’m getting close.”
He reaches up and tugs on one of my nipples, and I feel my pussy ripple.
“Oh yes. God.”
He suddenly kneels, getting even closer to the action. “That’s it. Take care of this pretty pussy.”
He pinches my nipple again, and as I start moving even faster, I feel him teasing at my entrance with one finger.
“Do you need something to fill you up?” he asks. “Do you need something to squeeze? Something to strangle with this tight, beautiful cunt?”
Jesus. I’m so damned close. “Yes. You. Please.” I pant the words out.
“Oh, you don’t get my cock yet,” he says. “I have so much more I need from you first. Like two orgasms. But you can have this.”
He slides his finger into me. My pussy immediately clenches around it.
“That’s right. That’s so good. Fuck, you’re tight.”
I don’t say anything. I just press harder on my clit as Alex thrusts his finger in and out.
“Good girl. Keep going. Work that needy clit.” Then he adds a second finger.
“Oh! Alex! Yes!”
“I want this pussy nice and sweet and ready. Come on, give it to me.”
I come just like that. I let it all go. The tension that has been winding tight suddenly snaps, and I’m gasping and crying out and clenching around Alex’s thick fingers that keep fucking into me as my orgasm sweeps through me.
“Oh, fuck, yes. So damned pretty. So. Fucking. Beautiful.” He pulls his fingers out as the ripples fade and he lifts them to his mouth as he again looms over me with a hand braced by my hip. He sucks them clean, then says roughly, “Good fucking girl.”
My pussy clenches again.
Yeah, none of the men I’ve dated or even considered dating would have done or said any of that to me.
I take a deep, satisfied breath and blow it out. “More.”
He gives me a wicked grin. “You have no idea.”
His hot gaze tracks over my entire naked body. Then he climbs up beside me. I roll toward him.
“Do you—”
But he grabs me by the waist and hauls me over his body. “Put that messy pussy on my mouth.”
I squeak. That’s all I can do as he easily drags me up his body as if I weigh nothing.
“I’m too sensitive,” I try to protest. I do want to do this, but my clit is still tingling from the orgasm, and I’m still breathing too fast.
His hand gives my ass a quick slap. “I told you, I own you tonight. This pussy is mine right now. Give it to me.”
Oh, fuck. Why is that hot? That is not hot. The ass slap, the ‘own you’ thing, all of it.
But a second later, I’m settling myself over his mouth and grabbing the headboard for support. And thirty seconds later, I’m moaning his name and grinding onto that mouth. And three minutes later, I’m convinced there should be an entire religion built around this man’s mouth.
“Alex! Oh, my God! I’m coming!”
He squeezes my ass and won’t let me move a centimeter away from the lips, tongue, and teeth that push me over the cliff again.
Now he has to give me a break.
He pulls me down his body until our mouths are even, and he kisses me. He smells like me, tastes like me, and when he holds the back of my head and plunders my mouth with his tongue, it’s clear that he intends for me to realize that.
He grasps my waist and shifts me further down his body.
“Ride my cock, Wildflower,” he says, his voice is low and rough. “Need to feel this perfect pussy around me now.”
What am I supposed to say to that? “Yes.” I push myself up to straddle his thighs. “This position first?”
“I want to see you take me deep. I want to see your pretty tits bouncing. And this way, you control the pace. In any other position, I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll feel me for a month.”
I want that.
It’s probably not the right reaction to want to be sore. But I can’t deny my body’s reaction to his words.
“Okay.”