8. Nash
8
Nash
Too Dirty to Deny
T he last thing I wanted was to meet someone new, and then Cat literally walked right through the door.
And now she’s lying naked next to me, telling me she can’t have another orgasm, which I’ve already taken as a personal challenge because that’s the only way I can ever respond to that claim from a woman.
I let the dispute rest while I rub the backs of my fingers across her cheek, down her kissable neck, and over her sun-kissed shoulder where my fingertip draws a line between the freckles an afternoon at the beach brought out.
“Are you playing connect-the-dots with my freckles?”
“Yeah. I like them.”
“I hate them.”
“Don’t say that. Not about any part of yourself.”
My hand massages her shoulder for a minute before it glides down to her breast. I roll her nipple between my thumb and index finger. “Do you like having these played with?”
“Yes. I liked having your mouth there, too.”
“Do you want more of that?”
She hesitates, and I don’t press her to answer me. She’s told me she likes it, and I’ll take my cue from that. I don’t doubt that she will stop me if she doesn’t want me to do it, but I think this is a moment where she doesn’t want to have to ask.
She needs me to follow my own instincts about her—to risk being wrong, so she doesn’t have to risk anything more right now.
I kiss her until her body softens, until I’ve kissed away the tension my question created, still playing with her nipple. Her defenses go up quick, but when they fall, it’s fucking hypnotic.
When her body relaxes, the rhythm of her kiss changes, too.
“I like kissing you,” I say, pinching her nipple.
She sucks in a sharp breath at the pinch. And then she traces my top lip with the tip of her fingernail, and it sends goosebumps down my arms. “I like kissing you, too. I like everything about your mouth. It’s very talented. And you have the most perfect cupid’s bow. It’s not fair. I’d kill to have lips this nice.”
“You have the nicest lips I have ever seen. The softest. Sweetest.”
I playfully nibble her bottom lip and she smiles as I do it. Then I kiss down her neck and over the new freckles on her chest. Her skin is warm. I release her nipple from my fingers and take it into my mouth. She moans softly and threads her fingers into my hair.
My hand slides down to see if her nerve endings have settled since her orgasm. Her body doesn’t flinch when I rub circles around her swollen clit. I tighten the perimeter, getting closer to her clit with each revolution.
I love the way she squirms and rolls her hips. I’m not sure if it’s anticipation or lingering sensitivity, but she definitely doesn’t want me to stop.
Having her nipple sucked and her clit rubbed at the same time isn’t too much for her. I think she likes the combo quite a bit. Her clit hardens as my thumb rubs directly over it with slightly more pressure. When I slip my fingers back inside her, she bucks her hips to meet my hand. And she responds with the sexiest little whimper when I suck harder on her nipple, but her back arches to bring it closer to me.
I stop sucking long enough to tell her how much I love the way her body responds, the sounds she makes, the way she moves.
“Don’t hide anything from me. Show me how much you like it when I’m rough. Yeah, just like that,” I say as her pussy gets wetter.
Her expression looks pained, but I know she’s not in pain. She’s on the verge of being frustrated, though, and I don’t want to edge her. Not tonight.
“Your pussy and your nipple are the same bright shade of pink right now. Both swollen and beautiful. They might both be sore tomorrow. Is it okay if I make you sore?”
“Yes.”
My mouth goes back to her nipple, and I suck hard again while my thumb presses more aggressive circles over her clit. Her tightening walls squeeze my fingers, and her juices keep flowing. I press my fingertips into her upper wall, and her hips begin to rock.
She tugs slightly at my hair, but her moans are laced with pleasure. She’s not trying to pull me off.
I let my teeth gently graze her nipple, and her pussy clenches. She’s so close. Trying not to change a thing, I keep stimulating her in all three places. Her breath hitches, and my dick lurches, desperate to feel these tight walls around it.
She comes loudly, uninhibited, and I love every goddamn second of it, but Jesus, I need to fuck her.
As soon as the last spasm of her climax wanes, I climb between her legs and knee them farther apart, looking down at what a mess I’ve made of her—from her hair to her flushed cheeks to her arousal that’s spread down her inner thighs. She’s a fucking work of art.
I drag the crown of my cock through her opening, pressing against it, but not entering her yet. I’m positive her pussy is going to make me feral for her. I want to savor this final moment before I’m addicted, these last few seconds before I churn her slick juices into cream for the first time.
My eyelids flutter. I take a deep breath, lunge forward to pin her arms above her head, and push inside her exquisite cunt. The groan that leaves my body is the involuntary expulsion of pleasure so heightened it borders on pain.
“God, your tight pussy stretching to take my cock feels incredible. That’s my girl. Just relax a little.” I fuck her with short strokes, not pulling completely out or giving her my full length. “You ready for more?”
She bites her lip and nods. I roll my hips forward and keep pushing until I’m balls-deep. “Breathe, beautiful. You can take me.” I start to thrust again, lengthening my strokes, and her body relaxes as she adjusts to my size, realizing she’s taken it all.
Her walls squeeze my dick.
“You trying to milk me already?”
“I’d love to tell you I’m doing it intentionally, but I don’t think I’m in control of any part of my body right now.”
“You don’t need to be. I won’t hurt you.” I press my lips to her ear and whisper, “Not too much, anyway.”
Her laughter is lazy. Trusting. Fuck, yes. This is exactly how I want her, languidly spread out beneath me, mine for the taking.
So, I take her.
And she gives herself over entirely to me.
When I pull out at the last second and come all over her stomach, she smiles up at me and says, “You just have to make a mess, don’t you?”
“You are the most beautiful mess I’ve ever seen.”
“Get me a towel?”
And just like that, her submissive side starts to recede. But her body is still exhausted, and there is no denying we are extremely compatible. Sexually, anyway. I think in other ways, too, though I’m not sure either of us is ready to explore that.
I wipe my jizz off her body, and she lets me do this one last thing for her. “Let’s take a shower,” I say.
“Together?” she asks as if it’s a shocking proposition.
“That was the idea, yeah. I’m not done putting my hands all over you.”
“No shower sex. I’m serious. I don’t think I could stand up that long.”
“How long do you think you could kneel?”
She hits me with a pillow.
I toss the towel back into the bathroom, take her hands, and pull her up from the bed. “Where are you going?” I ask when she tries to turn toward the hall.
“All my stuff is in the shower upstairs.”
“You’re going to make me climb stairs right now?”
“You either want to soap up my tits or you don’t.”
Well, she cut right through the formalities on that. “There’s no chance you want to grab your products and bring them back down here?”
“No chance. When I go up those stairs, I’m not coming back down tonight.”
“You drive a hard bargain.”
“Yeah, I’ve really played hard to get.”
“I like that you found me too charming to resist.”
“More like too dirty to deny.”
“If you’re trying to offend me, you’re going in the wrong direction.”
“I’m going upstairs now.”
“What a coincidence. So am I.”
I’d follow her naked body up a dozen flights of stairs to share a shower with her. But I don’t plan to come back down here tonight either.
I hardly tested her boundaries at all, but I meant it when I told her she was mine for the rest of the week. There are so many more things I want to know about her. And I have every intention of waking her up in the morning, testing her sleepy sunrise submissive limits.