Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Bellamy
He kisses me. Barely.
His lips brush against mine in the faintest, least satisfying way.
“What the hell was that?” I ask him, my eyes still closed.
“What do you mean?” He breathes the words against my mouth. “Did you want more?”
My body screams at him in a silent demand for attention.
I twist my body, moving it around in hopes that I can find some relief to the tension this asshole just created.
Coy leans back, his eyes twinkling. “Are you frustrated?”
“Yes. But it’ll help when I throw your ass out of here.”
He laughs. “You think you can do that?”
I give him a look that questions his sanity.
“We’re gonna get one thing straight before anything transpires here,” he says, running his hands down my neck, over my shoulders, and down my arms.
I shiver at the contact. “Huh?”
“You’re going to stop being so damn difficult.”
His hands drop away from my body, and finally, I can think again.
I take a step back. “Maybe I have demands,” I say, thinking on the fly. “Maybe I have something we need to get straight too.”
He grins. “Give it to me, sugar.”
That’s what I want to do, asshole.
As if he reads my mind, he bursts out laughing.
I roll my eyes. “You are so predictable.”
“Me? Am I predictable? I know exactly what you were thinking, and that defines predictability.”
He shrugs with a playful arrogance that only makes me want to one-up him. He’s not getting the power position. Not in my house.
I shrug back, mocking his gesture to me, and head to my bedroom. He follows. I don’t point out how predictable that is.
“You really didn’t get my text message that night?” I ask him, flipping on the bedroom light.
“Nope.”
He stands in the doorway and leans against the frame.
I face the full-length mirror so that he can see my face in the reflection. After holding his gaze for a moment too long—just enough time for him to be confident that my actions are, indeed, intentional—I lift the hem of my shirt and tug it over my head.
His pupils widen, but he doesn’t move.
“Oh,” I say as if I’m not disrobing mid conversation. “And you didn’t know I was a virgin?”
I hold his gaze again for a solid second before unfastening my bra.
“Nope,” he says with a pop on the p. His gaze settles on my beaded nipples in the reflection.
“That makes me feel less hateful toward you,” I say.
I unfasten the button on my jeans, yank the zipper down, and slide the denim down my legs. Coy’s eyes follow the movement as I kick them into a corner with my shirt and bra.
“That makes me feel a lot of ways toward you.” He widens his eyes for effect as he watches my fingers dip beneath the waistband of my red lace panties. “May I ask what the fuck you’re doing?”
I drag my finger under the fabric before letting it snap back against my skin. The sound makes Coy flinch.
“What?” I ask, raising a brow as I watch him in the mirror. “Did you want more?”
He sighs, fighting a smile, as he realizes I’m giving his words back to him.
I pout as I lean forward, holding his gaze, and pull the lace down my legs as slowly as I can. Once they hit the floor, I stand back up and kick them away as well.
“Bellamy …” He groans but doesn’t walk toward me.
“Are you frustrated, Coy?” I toss him a wink. “That’s what you asked me, isn’t it?”
“I’ll be less frustrated when I throw your ass—”
I squeal, interrupting his sentence, as he picks me up and throws me on the bed. Pillows bounce as I make contact with the blankets. My hands go to my breasts as they bounce too.
Coy stands at the edge of the bed and does quick work of ridding himself of his clothes.
My mouth waters as he bares his solid, muscled chest and his chiseled abdomen. The lines on his hips point to his thick, hard cock. A bead of precum glistens at the tip.
My fingers skim down my stomach and toward my clit.
“Don’t,” he warns.
I don’t listen. I do slow down, though, because I’m not exactly sure what to do about the intensity of Coy’s gaze.
“Dammit, Bells. I mean it. If you touch yourself, I’ll get dressed and leave.”
I think he means it. My fingers stop just above the pebble that aches for relief.
My thighs are sticky from the wetness. My body temperature soars. My heart beats between my legs. All of my blood pools in my vagina, causing my clit to swell.
“I don’t have a condom with me,” he says through gritted teeth. “I kind of want you to have one laying around, and I kind of fucking don’t.”
“Why?” I grin. “Do you not like the idea of me fucking someone else in this bed?”
His chuckle is deep. Unamused. More of a warning than a gesture of entertainment.
Because I’m clearly a masochist, it turns me on.
But, because I’m also unwilling to piss him off enough to ruin this before it even gets started, I acquiesce.
“There are condoms on the bedside table,” I say, fluttering my eyelashes. “I just bought them. You’ll get to open the box.”
He’s unsure if I’m joking or not. But when he finds the box with intact cellophane, he grins triumphantly.
I don’t tell him that was in case Suit came over this weekend. It seems like the best choice at the moment.
He makes quick work out of sheathing himself. I do quick work out of scooting back on the bed.
My breaths are quick and shallow. I can’t stop smiling. Just as I think Coy’s about to climb onto the mattress, hover over me, and punish me for joking around with his cock, he doesn’t.
Instead, the cheeky bastard crawls across the bed and stops at my feet.
I hold out my hands to prompt an explanation.
“Do you know what I think?” he asks, placing his hands on the spots where my legs meet my torso.
“I’m hoping you’re just thinking about getting inside me.”
He grins.
His fingers press into my skin. His palms are heavy, and he shoves me toward the headboard as he stretches out on his stomach on the mattress.
“Coy, for heaven’s sake,” I say, threatening to touch myself again.
My wrist is snapped up by his large hand before I even get close.
“I remember someone telling me how they liked it when I spread them apart with my fingers …”
He runs a finger up my slit before separating my folds. The air is cool against my heated flesh, and I wiggle to try to secure some kind of contact—any contact—before my head explodes.
The bastard positions himself, so there’s no way in the world I can even accidentally brush my bud against his fingers.
I moan, arching my back off the bed.
“I also remember someone saying,” he says, scooping his free hand under my ass and holding it in the air, “that they liked me to lick them.”
I gasp and look down to see his eyes sparkling with humor.
“What?” I ask, pointing toward my very ready and very open vagina. “What’s the holdup?”
He smirks. “What do you want, Bellamy?”
“What do you mean, ‘What do you want, Bellamy?’?”
“What do you want me to do to you?” His eyes stay glued to mine as he blows a breath across my overstimulated sex. “What do you want me to do to this little pussy?”
I throw my head back to the bed and try not to scream.
The anticipation is killing me.
His touch is destroying my willpower.
His refusal to give me what we both want is driving me insane.
His hand cupping my ass moves so that his thumb presses against the rim.
I yelp, trying to squirm, but he somehow holds me still.
“If you don’t lick me,” I warn him, “I’m going to—oh, my fuck!”
I squeal as his tongue dips into my part and slides up to my clit. He flicks it with just enough force to cause my legs to fall to the sides.
He chuckles against me. Even that is foreplay at this point.
I reach for his head and lace my fingers in his hair.
“Do you like that?” he asks, his words whispers against my overstimulated body.
“Yes,” I moan as I lift my hips to his face.
“Are you going to be nice now?”
“Probably not—fuck you,” I yell as he sucks my clit into his mouth and holds it in place.
A blast of colors spills through my visions as he flicks the trapped clit with his tongue.
“Coy. I can’t …. Yes. Mhm …”
I can’t focus on anything. It’s all too much.
His thumb is pressing harder against my ass. Two fingers are stroking deep inside my pussy with a rhythm that’s almost enough to put me over the edge. His tongue is twirling around my wetness, practically writing the damn alphabet as he works me closer and closer to the brink of an orgasm.
“Look at me,” he says before sucking on me again.
“Ahh …” I open my eyes and look right into his. It’s a simple, unexpected act that delivers an angle I’m unprepared for. “Oh, shit.”
My hips flex, grinding on his face and fingers. He gives in—finally—and works his fingers against the anterior wall of my pussy.
He removes his hand from beneath me and palms one of my breasts. His fingers work my beaded nipple, pinching it until I yell out.
“Coy!”
My body shakes against his fingers, my juices flowing across his face. His eyes hood as he watches me come apart at the seams.
Every muscle in my body flexes. My legs shake. My eyes roll back in my head as he continues to lavish attention on every known erogenous zone on the human body.
Finally, after what feels like a hundred lifetimes, I collapse in a heap of sweaty, sticky, completely satisfied completion.
Coy crawls up the bed and lays by me with a smirk the size of Texas.
“You’re proud of yourself, aren’t you?” I ask him.
He nods and laughs as he wipes his face off with the edge of my comforter.
“Ew,” I say, smacking his bicep. “Don’t do that!”
“This is the least of your worries.” He drops the blanket. “That wet spot is as big as your smile right now.”
My cheeks flush as he dips his still-damp lips down to mine and kisses me sweetly.
“Now,” he says in a quick turn of events, “I’m not finished.”
I giggle as he hops off the bed and grabs my ankles. In one swift movement, I slide across the blankets to the edge.
He looks down at me. For the first time since this all started, I feel slightly self-conscious. My brain begins to sort out every scar, dimple, and roll on my body.
He notices.
“If you ever start to feel any certain way about yourself,” he says, “I want you to remember the look on my face right now.” He gives me a soft, simple grin. “Because this is the look of a man who can’t believe he gets to be inside you.”
I can’t stop the smile that splits my cheeks, nor can I halt the stupid pride that probably radiates to Mars.
“Well, it’s not like you’ve not been inside me before,” I joke. “I guess I’m pretty forgettable after all.”
He plants his hands on either side of me and peers into my eyes. “Try unforgettable.”
I think he’s going to kiss me again. Instead, he nips at my bottom lip with his teeth, causing me to yelp. Then he flips me on my stomach and yanks my knees up and my ass backward.
“This one is going to be quick because I’m a chump and have waited entirely too long for this.” He growls an extended, guttural response as he slides his cock in me.
I’m unprepared.
“Don’t be quick,” I beg, spreading my knees wider apart. “That feels so good.”
“I got you off first.”
He fills me up and holds the position, letting the tip of his cock press against the back wall of my vagina.
I rock my hips back. “I want to get off again.”
“You’re so demanding,” he says, sliding out and then quickly shoving himself back in.
“You’re so … delicious,” I hiss as he begins to find a rhythm.
He chuckles. “That’s a nice change in attitude.”
“Just give me the dick and watch me be a doll.”
He snorts. “I want to make a joke, but … I … can’t … concentrate.”
I arch my back and squeeze myself around him. The angle hits me perfectly, and I feel the familiar buildup coming quick and hard.
“It’s your lucky day,” I say, my voice shaking.
“I’d have to fucking agree.” His fingers bite into my hips. “I’m going to come, Bells.”
I squeeze him as hard as I can. The tightening of my muscles causes more friction against my G-spot, and I hit the top of the climb and fall over the edge.
“Dammit,” I yell as my body turns to fire.
His growl comes low and hard as his tempo picks up pace.
I’ve never felt more desired in my entire life.
Before I know what’s happening, he’s laying me gently against the blankets and kissing the top of my head.
I open my eyes and look at him.
“How was that?” he asks cheekily.
I shrug. “Not bad.”
“Oh.” He pretends to consider this. “Memorable, though?”
“Definitely. You’re in my top three all day.”
He takes a pillow and hits me with it. I giggle as I take it away from him and hold it to my chest.
His smile lights up a spot in my heart that was dark before tonight. And even if he leaves—when he goes—at least I had this time with him. At least I know the truth.
And at least I know that I’ll have him in my life in some way. Maybe that’s better than none at all.
“Do you have plans tonight?” he asks. “No other men coming by?”
“Not tonight,” I tease.
He narrows his eyes. “Well, then, how about we get cleaned up, order some pizza, and then go for another round in a couple of hours?”
“It takes you a couple of hours to get ready again?”
“Hey, be nice. I’m getting old these days.”
I sit up and touch the side of his face. “If this is you being old, then I’ll put you in my top two.”
Jumping off the bed before he can grab me, I giggle all the way to the bathroom.