Chapter 9
J essa is kissing me . My body was very aware of this sudden change of events. My cock immediately stood at attention; my nerve endings were on fire in the best way possible, and my muscles strained as I held her up against me. My mind was having a harder time catching up.
Jessa is kissing me . The thought rattled around chaotically in my brain. She tasted so good. There was a mix of the red wine she had drank earlier, some herb from the chicken at dinner, and a bite of something musky that I understood was wholly her. Our mouths danced, and her pillowy lips parted slightly as I swiped my tongue against the seam of them. Her body shifted in my hands. I had handfuls of her ass in my palms, her legs were tightly wound around me, and her breasts were smashed against my chest. I heard her give a breathy moan, and any cognitive thoughts I had left fled my brain.
This girl was sex incarnate. Every small move her hips made, every kiss she gave me, every thud of her heartbeat against my pecs felt like foreplay to me. She had her hands up now, one gripping my beard, the other tangled in my hair. She groaned out something nonsensical, and I quieted her with another heated kiss. I nibbled on the sides of her lips, then slipped my tongue into her mouth, drawing out a sigh as she arched against me. I could feel her hips searching for me. I turned her around, pressing her to the wall, and rolled my hips against her pelvis. She gasped into my mouth, not breaking our desperate kiss, and grinded on me, creating the friction she so desperately sought.
She was writhing against me, and I pulled away just slightly to watch as her eyes flew open, and she stared at me with glassy, half-lidded blue orbs. Her hair was a messy halo around her, and her chest was heaving. She grabbed my collar to pull me back toward her, and we fell into another round of shared breath, tongues exploring and lips fusing in lust. A few minutes later, I felt her hips shudder, and she gripped my shoulders hard as she broke the kiss, threw her head back, and moaned as she came.
I had made a lot of girls come in my day, but I had never seen something quite as captivating as Jessa orgasming. She had no reservations. She felt what she felt, and she expressed it. She wasn’t timid at all. I had seen girls fake it, and I had seen them get embarrassed. I had seen them try to make noises they thought I would like. I had even been with girls who would not even let me try to get them off; they were just so focused on pleasing me. Jessa, on the other hand, had taken from me without inhibition. I had let her, and the outcome had been cataclysmic. It reminded me of watching the end of a symphony. The frisson of sensation brought on by the music, the soaring notes, the tender chorale, and the last cadence always overflowed me with emotion. The music was so intimate and heartbreaking, and watching her throw all of her fear into a leg-shaking orgasm had given me a similar feeling of triumph and ecstasy.
Jessa stiffened in my arms and whispered a quick, “Put me down,” so I immediately loosened the grip I had on her body and let her slide down mine until her feet touched the ground. She withdrew a couple of steps back.
“Oh my god.” She laughed, her cheeks flushed. “I am so sorry. I just attacked you, and I didn’t even ask first. I don’t even know if you’re gay.”
She was talking faster than normal, and she chuckled uncomfortably again, straightening her clothes and running her fingers through her hair. I gestured to the outline of my very hard penis behind my fly and scoffed. “You know I’m not gay.”
She didn’t answer; instead, she peered out from behind me, and I turned to see that the man I had torn off of her earlier had disappeared sometime, I presumed, during our frantic make out.
“You’re not gay. Well, that’s good.”
She was rambling now, not even mentioning that the guy was gone. She was obviously processing what had just happened, and I gave her the space to do that as it dawned on me that I hadn’t freaked out. This was the first person I had kissed since… and I liked it. I enjoyed it. In fact, I wanted more. I looked down at Jessa’s swollen lips, her pebbled nipples that were obvious through her shirt, and the beard burn across her chin. I wanted so much more. I reached out to brush some hair from where it fell in her eyes, and she blinked up at me and said, “Dessert?” She didn’t wait for me to respond; she just began walking down the hall, back to our table. I willed my dick to deflate and then followed after her feeling a little confused and a lot horny.
Back at the table, she dove right into the plate I had gotten for us to share. It was piled with chocolate biscotti, tiramisu, peach tarts, raspberry jam bomboloni, slices of torta della nonna, and a panna cotta custard dish that was beginning to sag from having sat for so long.
“So good,” she said around a mouthful of cake. Her cheeks were flushed as she held out a spoonful of the tart for me to taste. Did I revert back to Kian without a last name, who didn’t even want to come to this party, and take the spoon from her? Or did I stay in this moment of Kian, who now knows what her lips taste like and had seen her come from rubbing herself on me and take a bite from the spoon between her fingers?
She watched me from under long lashes as if she could see my internal struggle, yet she didn’t make a move one way or another to help me choose. I gave in to my more animalistic side, and I took the bite from her hand. As I did, I made sure my lips grazed her finger. She shivered as I sat down across from her. I wanted to fuck her so bad. The things I could do to her—we’d be up all night. I shifted in my seat as my deflating boner came back to full mast. Would she let me fuck her? I wanted to see her face again as she let the pleasure overtake her. I wanted to get her completely naked and have her panting and calling out my name. I wanted to suck on her clit while I had my finger in her pussy…
“Kian?”
My gaze shot up to meet hers.
“Hmm? Sorry, I drifted off for a sec. What did you say?” I wondered if I had been drooling into my beard as my imagination had run wild.
“Do you want some?” She pushed the plate over to me. She had left me half of each option.
“I want you,” I blurted. Then I stuffed something, anything, from the plate into my mouth so I couldn’t talk anymore. I wasn’t used to having to try or ask. In my old life, women came on to me in droves. I actually liked this experience more. It felt real. Something I hadn’t had a lot of.
She blinked. “I can give you one night.”
My cock loved the sound of that. My brain winced as I knew one night would never be enough to stave off my already growing desperation for her. I nodded, hoping I didn’t look too eager. I was almost thirty years old, for god’s sake. Chill, bro.
I watched as she pulled out her phone to text someone. Myles, I presumed. Her love for him made me ache with an emotion I couldn’t quite name. It was sad to watch her care for someone who was always on the precipice of self-destruction. Like you ? My inner voice taunted me. I squelched the thought as she pushed her chair back from the table and stood. I took another gulp of the water in front of me and got up as well.
“My place has a brother in it; your place is a van, and I’m kind of loud.” She bit her lip as she said it, and it made me want to grab her and kiss her senseless.
“I’ll get a room,” I said quickly. She cocked an eyebrow at me.
“Had another good fight?”
“I still have more left over from the last one,” I muttered, “and I have more fights coming up.”
“I’m coming to one,” she announced as we stepped out into the frigid night air. I winced at the thought of her in the crowd, watching my most depraved side emerge.
“We’ll see.” I motioned for her to switch to the other side of me so I could walk on the side closest to the street.
“Maybe I’ll give you a second night if you let me.” She gave me such a devilish little grin that I groaned out loud, which made her laugh. I faltered as I opened up the door for her. Did I have condoms? It had been so long since I needed one. I then remembered the three packets inside my wallet that someone had left in my guitar case the other day, along with his number and a twenty-dollar bill. I did not swing that way, but I was instantly grateful he had left them.
I drove impatiently to the hotel she now lived in and got us a room while she went to check on Myles and give him the cannolis and the dinner she had packed up for him. She met me back in the lobby, now wearing a pair of leggings and what looked like a tank top that was slightly revealed from under her partially opened coat.
“We’re on the third floor,” I told her, showing her the key card. I suddenly felt awkward. I had so many one-night stands under my belt. Most of them, I didn’t even remember their names the next morning. I had never given it another thought, and it had never bothered me before. Yet here, with Jessa, I didn’t relish the idea of waking up tomorrow and her not being there. She had made it very clear that all I was getting was one night, and somehow, I was the one feeling bad about it. I wanted her to know that I respected her—that I enjoyed our banter and her sarcastic, quick one-liners. I wanted her to know how beautiful I thought she was and that she could trust me with her body. Instead, I said nothing.
We stood in silence as the elevator beeped its way up to the third floor. We exited together and walked with hushed sounds of our shoes on the carpet to find the room. Once inside, Jessa surveyed the bed as she removed her coat. She was, in fact, wearing a tank top and from the looks of it, no bra. Her breasts hung heavy beneath the thin material, and I had to tear my eyes away from them in order to maintain somewhat of a respectable decorum. For the time being, anyway.
“I’m not into vanilla missionary,” she suddenly announced. “I need a little spice, but not red room of pain bullshit.” She snorted, and I recognized her reference to the popular book and movie. I had actually been at the premiere.
“But I need to be told what to do, held down a little, maybe choke me, slap my ass, make me be a good girl but don’t degrade me. I’m not into that. Worship me, but force me to be worshiped. You understand?”
Her confidence in knowing exactly what she needed was making me so hot and bothered I was literally sweating.
“Good news, I’m not into vanilla missionary either.” My voice sounded deeper than usual, and I wondered if even though she didn’t know me well yet, could she tell how turned on I was by her?
“I told Myles I’d be back by three because I don’t have work till the afternoon, so let’s do this.” She began to remove her pants, and for a moment, I felt cheap. She was using me, and she didn't even try to pretend that she wasn’t. On one hand, I loved a progressive woman who wasn’t afraid to enjoy sex and not feel like she had to be committed to a man to get it. On the other hand, I wanted to own her. I wanted her to be mine. I was going to give her something more from me than a few orgasms, this much I was sure of, and I wanted it to mean something. Fuck . I felt my inner voice get irritated. All I had to do was say no. Leave. Not busk near Kafe ever again. I could still save myself the heartache that I was sure would follow because this girl had the power to break me, and I couldn’t fathom why, but I knew I was about to let her.
I unbuttoned my shirt and let it fall where I stood.
“Holy fucking shit.”
I looked up at the sound of her awed tone. She was staring at my body as she came over to run a few fingers down my six-pack. This was the first time I would be with a woman since transforming my body, and I almost didn’t know what to do with it. Almost.
“You like what you see, baby?” I summoned my old personality, and my cocky swag was back immediately.
“I do.” She was almost panting as she ran another hand down my defined muscles and then stopped, cupping my package that was imprisoned behind my pants.
“Take these off.”
She was bossy. I liked it. I stripped my pants off, leaving me only in my black boxers. I was hoping she wouldn’t notice the expensive label on them. They weren’t designer by any means, but a guy living in his van would probably not be caught dropping sixty-five dollars for three pairs of boxers.
“Are you clean?” she asked as I reached down to cup her ass, which was covered in a pair of plain cotton underwear. I nodded.
“Are you?”
“I haven’t fucked anyone in a year, and yes, I’m always careful—never did it bare,” she told me as I walked her backward till she was pressed to the wall with my body against hers.
“So you need this?” I tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at me.
Her eyes glinted in the dark room, and I felt her as well as heard her say, “I really do.”
I bent down and slammed my mouth to hers. I felt her moan against my lips, and I forced them to part with my tongue, which danced against hers as I held her face still and made love to her mouth.
I felt her hands by my abs again, tracing them. I pulled away for a moment, gasping as her hands made their way into my boxers, and she grasped my cock with her fists.
“Umph.” I leaned my head against the wall from the sheer beautiful torture her hands were inflicting on me. I had forgotten how small and soft a woman’s hands were, and I was being strung out to my limit by hers.
With barely any effort, I lifted her in my arms and carried her to the bed. I was going to do this, right? I was finally going to do something that I wanted. I was going to be in the moment. I was going to continue to live my life and stop repressing myself in the prison I had created in my head. I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing that I had a hot, curvy, hopefully soaking-wet woman lying on the bed right under me, and here I was at the start of an existential crisis. I almost pulled back and said never mind when a hot, wet mouth enveloped my cock, and all rational thought fled my mind.
“Oooh fuck.” My eyes flew open to look down at Jessa, who had dropped to her knees and was bobbing on my dick with so much enthusiasm that I was left breathless. I canted my hips, and she gagged. I felt myself edging into her throat, and she gagged again, longer this time, and I pulled back just as tears sprang in the corners of her eyes. She hummed around me, and I gathered handfuls of her hair, moving her head, forcing her to take me deeper. I touched the back of her throat again and then pulled out fully, followed by a string of saliva. I was left soaking and painfully hard. She wiped her hand across her mouth, her lips now puffy from the effort she had put into sucking me. She tilted her head to one side, her hair flowing around her body, and seemed to challenge me to make the next move.
“Take off your shirt,” I demanded. She pulled off the thin tank top and didn’t move, still on her knees. With her shoulders back, she let me peruse her body to my heart's content, showing me her breasts, which were full and tipped a rosy brown color. I took the tank top from her, placed her on the bed, and with a soft push to her chest bone, I had her lie back on the pillow for me.
“Give me your hands,” I urged. She immediately held them out to me, watching me curiously. I tied her tank top around her wrists and then lifted them above her head.
“Don’t move.”
She wiggled her ass against the bed but otherwise stayed still. I put my knees on either side of her chest and shoved my cock back into her mouth.
“Mmph.” She made a sound of protest but then recovered from the surprise of my sudden movement and began to suck me. She used her teeth gently on the crown of my dick, and I rewarded her with a groan. She licked up the underside of it as much as she could without full range of movement and then took me back into her mouth fully, opening her throat and letting me fuck her until she gagged again.
I pulled out and slapped her lips with the head of my dick and said, “That’s the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard you make.”
She answered by kissing the slit, gathering up the precum that had gathered there. I took my finger and pushed the liquid into her mouth.
“Swallow it,” I commanded. She did, and I leaned down to kiss her as I made my way down her body and weighed her breasts in my hands. She was so confident in every area, yet I knew compliments could never be bad, so I said, “Your body is so sexy,” as I took her nipple into my mouth. I bit it gently to the point of slight discomfort and then made it better with the swipe of my tongue. She mewled beneath me as I played with her nipple with my fingers. Then I turned to her other breast and nipped my way around her areola until I sucked the whole nipple into my mouth. Her back arched, and she moaned loudly.
“Say my name.” I popped off her nipple, leaving it wet and shiny. She shook her head.
“Not yet.”
“Not yet?” I kneaded her breast in one hand as I pressed the other one to her ribs, holding her still while I made my way down her body, kissing a trail to her cotton underwear that had a dark wet spot by the crotch.
“Not till you make me scream,” she told me slyly.
“Challenge accepted.” I usually ripped a girl's underwear off of her, but I was aware that Jessa was limited in her options, so I gently tugged them down her thighs, sniffed the crotch, and then dropped them off the side of the bed.
She continued to watch me but didn’t comment. Her thighs could smother me. I ran a hand down one and then slapped it, loving the movement it made as it jiggled from my touch. Girls with no meat on their bones could never catch my attention after this. Not after I had experienced this body with some ripples and dimples on her thighs leading up to her pussy; it was like my own personal playground.
I lowered myself between her legs as I kissed around her belly button, circling her tapered waist between my hands. I moved lower, kissing her pelvic bone and nipping at her hip. She yelped as I licked it. Then I blew on her, noticing that she had been shaved bare, and she shivered, moving her hips as if she could catch my mouth somehow.
“I said don’t move,” I reminded her. She whimpered as I placed a hand on her pelvis, pushing her into the bed, holding her still, and then I descended onto her pussy like a man starved. Which I was. For her and only her.