CHAPTER 21 #3
It takes me a moment to recall. “Seven years or so.”
“Hurt?”
“On the ribs, yeah. And the parts on my upper chest. Those sessions were a real bitch.”
She smirks and chuckles. “I bet.”
I rub my thumb over the one on her collarbone. “How long?”
She looks down at the dandelion seedlings. “About the same. Maybe eight years.”
“How many in total?”
“Ah, jeez.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know. You’ve no doubt seen the wings on my back. So with those, I’d say maybe a dozen. You?”
“Triple that.” And I hold out my arms for her inspection.
She takes a few moments to study each arm, my tattooed hands, and even the one of an infinity symbol held together with a feather and the words “life” and “love”, which sits low near my belt, just above my pelvic bone.
Her mouth pinches as she runs her thumb over it, but moves on quickly.
She takes the most interest in my Ranger tattoos—especially the ones dedicated to the men on my team I lost. I watch as she silently says their names, and something about it hits me straight in the heart.
She meets my gaze. “I’m sorry. I’m sure they meant a lot to you.”
“Thank you.”
“Sorry, this is probably a mood killer.”
I shrug and say, “Meaningful, though, at least to me. I’ll never regret a moment I spend respecting the lives they lived, their dedication, or their sacrifice.”
Her smile holds a melancholy quality to it, and understanding.
“I’m glad you made it back.”
I don’t feel the words, but say them anyway. “Yeah, me too.”
Her hands move up to my shoulders, my neck, and then they tunnel into my hair. Her nails play with it, learning it too. They scratch gently against my scalp. The fucking feeling of them… my God… so fucking good. The groan it pulls out of me is guttural.
My eyes are closed, but I hear her chuckle, low and sultry.
The massage she delivers to my scalp, the way she explores my hair and body as if playing it like a musical instrument, is yet another art she must have mastered.
She drains me of all tension. She pours bliss and heat from her touch straight into me.
I’m incapable of escaping this feeling and not getting hooked on it.
I open my eyes lazily to watch her. Her breaths are shallow, her plump lips parted, and fuck, they look so soft, pliable.
I want a taste. But I don’t think I can stop once I do. All the fantasies that have been running through my mind over the last few months hit me at once.
I want those. To experience them with her. Every. Single. One.
My fingers fucking her. My mouth on her while I lick her sweet cunt.
Her lips wrapped around my cock. My fist in her hair while she’s choking me down to the hilt.
Fucking her and flipping her over on the bed so I can rut into her from behind while holding her down.
In every way we can imagine. Every hole.
All the things. Just get lost in it until neither of us has an ounce of energy left to spend and then pass the fuck out next to one another.
What would it be like to hold her then? Would she let me?
More than anything, I want to show her that no one else in the world could ever touch, need her, or love her the way I ache to.
Her lips twitch, and for a second, I think she’ll kiss me as she leans in. But no. It’s a taunt. It’s a tease. My heart pounds in my chest. My pulse roars in my ears. My exhalations come out short and choppy.
“You gonna keep on with the teasin’, or will you take what you want?”
Her lips move to my ear, and a shiver rolls through me as her lips brush my lobe.
“What I want is for you to not touch… not move… and for this to be all on me. You’re the one in the position of power and authority here, but I’m fully aware of this.
So later, if this ever comes to light, you have the ability to say I seduced you.
You sat back and didn’t do a thing. I was the one who took advantage of you. ”
“No one’s going to believe I wasn’t a willing participant.”
She smiles naughtily and laughs a little at this.
“Yes, I know. But we’re going to pretend.
Because when you choose this again, it’s all on you.
This time. This time is on me. My choice.
My willingness to put my job on the line.
My sin. And I’m choosing to own it. Whether you blame me tomorrow or not. ”
“Blame you? Why would I blame you?”
Her eyes fill with something—an emotion I can’t name. Shame, maybe. Like there’s a memory or thought she’s slipped into.
Instead of answering, she gets up. I sit up and reach out to grab her, but she holds up a finger. “I’m just turning the music down.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to hear you.”
“Hear me?”
“I want to hear how you say my name when I make you lose your mind.”
“Lily,” I breathe, rough and hoarse. “Come the fuck here, woman.”
She comes back, her large breasts swaying and bobbing as she strolls toward me. It’s fucking memorizing.
I hold out my hand to pull her back onto my lap.
She places her finger on my lips and shushes me. Then she’s spreading my legs wider, dropping to her knees in front of me, and running her hands over my thighs. She wastes no time. She goes for the buttons on my jeans and deftly pops each one free, revealing my briefs underneath.
Leaning over me, she squishes her breasts to my chest and grips my hair.
She stares into my eyes, and slowly, giving me a chance to change my mind, she finally, finally fucking kisses me.
Since it’s probably the only part of me I can use to place a claim on her, I do just that.
I kiss her back for everything I’m worth.
She moans first. Then I let my voice loose and do the same.
Our teeth clank. Our tongues dance. She bites my lip first. I kiss the fuck out of her again, more aggressively this time.
I don’t hold back. I grip the back of her head and ravage her mouth, then suck her bottom lip and hold it with my teeth for a moment before letting it slowly slip away.
We’re fucking. Just with our mouths, and it’s both sensual and brutal.
We hardly breathe. What ragged breaths we do manage are ragged gasps. It’s like a hit of an intoxicating drug, ecstasy straight to the bloodstream, and one taste is all it takes for me to think I’ll be craving this for the rest of my days.
When her mouth leaves mine, I chase it, reclaim it, and draw her right back into me. She comes with a bit of a fight to her, but slowly gives in and falls into the kiss again.
Finally, she plants her hand on my chest and forces me back. My chest is expanding and heaving from the lack of air. Hers does the same. Her mouth is red with beard burn. Her lips, swollen and fucking indecent. But oh so damn beautiful.
“Now.” She points at me. “Stay there and let me have my fun. I want to learn what the rest of you tastes like.” I’m tempted to say fuck it and just grab her, toss her on the couch beside me and crawl over her, but for now, I obey. I’ll play by her rules and let her take what she needs.
She lays a trail of kisses across my neck and chest first. She’s the opposite of timid. Her kisses are as complex as she is. A soft kiss, a hard suck, a bite to leave behind an impression, and God, do they ratchet me up.
She leaves teeth marks across my chest.
A harsher bite to my tattoo pec has me shouting, “Fucking hell, Lily. Jesus, woman!” To which she laughs and grins devilishly. Then she’s working over my nipples, bait and switching on me again, leaving them blazing red and aching. She’s marking me the fuck up, and holy shit, does it feel good.
I never knew my body could be lit up this way. It’s as if she’s waking up every inch of my skin—bringing me back to life.
As she moves down my body, her nails scratch my chest. The lines she leaves behind are pink and pebbled.
I shudder and moan. My body goes boneless.
My head falls to the back of the couch as I sink further, opening my thighs to give her the room to kneel between them.
I keep my eyes on her because I don’t want to miss a moment of it.
Her nose travels the length of my treasure trail as she inhales my scent. Then she licks along the line of my briefs.
I quickly help her out by lifting so she can pull my jeans and my black briefs down and off.
The moment her cool breath hits the head of my cock is transcendent.
She gives it a similar treatment but goes easy with the teeth.
She noses it, breathes in the scent of me, and then blows hot breath across my tip.
Her lush lips brush over the head—back and forth, back and forth.
Then her mouth loves on it as she kisses, mouths, and licks one side, then the other.
She ventures down it to the base, paying it the same homage as the rest. She sucks on the skin around my girth, comes back to the tip, and hints at teeth play.
The threat is there. The danger, but she never fully sinks them deep.
Essentially, she plays me like a fucking fiddle. I can’t breathe with the want of what I know is coming. I can’t look away. And I’m higher than I’ve ever been and not for a fucking pill.
Her hand wraps around the base. Her tongue sweeps through the precum there, and she gives me a good glimpse before she takes it into her mouth and swallows it.
I reach forward and thread my fingers through her hair while groaning. The sound reverberates in my chest. “Oh fuck, woman. Are you tryin’ to kill me?”
She licks up the side, blows a wicked breath over the wetness, the fucking menace. Then she works herself down my length. She takes it all. Takes me to the fucking hilt and swallows around me. I jackknife up. “Good God, that’s it. All of it. Just like that.”
The feel of her throat constricting around my dick is heady as fuck. I wrap my other hand lightly around her throat so I can feel it there. Feel her pulse beat under my fingertips.
She moans around me, and damn, it feels like heaven. It’s all I can do to stop myself from taking over, forcing her to fuck that mouth up and down over and over again.
“Jes-sus, you wicked-fucking-vixen.”
She’s not concerned whatsoever about keeping it clean and pretty. She makes a fucking mess of the blowjob in the best of ways.
And dear God, when she hums, my body lights on fire.
Fuck. “Yeah, oh, fuck.” I nearly lose it.
She takes my cock with legendary skill, uses her fist in tandem.
When I’m shaking, at the very end of my rope, barely staving off the need to cum down her throat, she pops off.
Her tongue swirls over my tip. She plays with my slit and teases me as she rubs the head back and forth over her pouty lips.
Then this she-devil restarts the torture session all over again. She doubles down, edging me to within an inch of my life.
“Christ, woman! I’m there. Stop playing with me.”
“Ask.”
“Ask what?”
“Ask me for it?”
“Lily.”
She crawls up and over me, places a few kisses on my chest, before her face comes to be level with mine. Her face, her abused lips, all of it has me nearly crashing my lips to hers, because I want to taste myself on her.
“Do you want me to swallow everything you give me?”
Palming her jaw, I give it to her straight. “You’re damn right I do.”
She combs her fingers through my hair, pushes it behind my ear. “Then ask me.”
“You said, the next time, it was up to me to choose this?”
By the look on her face, I can tell my question throws her off—disrupts her wicked little game. Her eyes narrow a bit, and her mouth twitches. Yeah, I’m reading her right. And knowing her like I’m learning to, and trusting my gut, I do what feels right. What my body screams for.
I take back the control she’s stolen.
I lean forward, take her face between my hands, and kiss the fuck out of her.
I don’t stop there. When our lips part, I lace my tone with the need running through me.
“You’re gonna take me back into that sinful, wicked fucking mouth, aren’t you, baby?
And let me not only fuck it” —I squeeze her throat with my free hand so hard that I hope my fingerprints leave an impression on her skin— “but own it as I come down this throat. Because this—” I lift my chin and stare directly into her eyes so she knows I’m no longer fucking around— “this is my fucking choice.”
The smile—it’s that goddamn smile, wide and stunning—does me in. Lost. I’m fucking lost for that smile.
I don’t bluff. Using my grip on her hair, I bring her lips back to my cock, and she opens for me.
I start slow, thrusting into her wet mouth again and again, taking my pleasure she so willingly offers.
Placing my other hand on the couch, I use the leverage to rise and fuck into her mouth with forceful, punishing thrusts.
Her eyes are on mine, and it’s the green light to take everything I need. So I do.
Her nails sink into my thigh, and the pain doubles the pleasure.
I come in rapid, short bursts into her mouth. Grunting as I bow forward from the force of it. Her throat tightens around the head of my cock as I spill down her throat. She swallows as much as she can.
What spills out… she daintily licks up after. Swipes her finger over the last bit that escaped and licks her finger clean like it’s a goddamn lollipop, making a show of it like she does everything else.
It’s the closest thing to heaven a man like me could hope for.
For a few glorious moments, everything is right in my world.
Her mouth still tastes like me when she lets me pull her in for one more kiss — slow, deep, hungry enough to make me want to drag her right back down to the couch.
I feel her smile against my lips, feel the faint tremor in her hands as she runs them over my chest.
Then we gather and right our clothing. Neither of us says a word. There’s no need—not with the way her eyes keep flicking back up to my mouth like she’s starving for another taste but won’t let herself ask.
Where it all goes wrong from there, I have no fucking idea. But the night doesn’t end with her in my arms the way I pictured it. Instead, I’m left in the dark, replaying that kiss, that laugh, every promise I thought I heard in her voice—and wondering what the fuck I missed.