Chapter Three #2
Alec pulls back, kneeling between my legs, pushing my knees apart, and resting back on his heels.
In any other lifetime I would be conscious of the fact that we’ve spent barely two hours together, that I’m naked and he’s staring down at this part of my body that only two other men have ever seen.
Neither of them ever really looked the way he is right now, too.
But his expression wipes away any question I have that he wants this just as much as I do.
I feel him shift his attention to my face while I watch his hand slide up my shin and over my knee.
Silently, I send a quick thank-you to the universe for hotel razors.
He smooths his palm up my thigh, and everything inside me grows tight in anticipation.
With a quiet groan, he glides the pad of his thumb between my legs, from where I’m wet, up over the small rise that makes me want to scream in pleasure.
He exhales a curse, circling my clit with his thumb. Looking down at what he’s doing, he whispers, “You’re so soft.”
I lift my hips, seeking, needing more than this glancing touch, and he grins, twisting his wrist and slowly sliding two fingers into me.
I nearly go airborne, surging from the bed, back arched, reaching down to grip the sheets in my fists.
He rises over me, sliding his mouth over mine, his tongue teasing in time with his fingers, and I feel drugged, like I’m in the middle of a wildly realistic dream and any second I might wake up coming.
When I reach for his belt, he grunts into a kiss, pushing his hips into my hands.
His belt falls to the side, and I work the button and zipper free before greedily digging in, moaning at the solid weight of him, distractedly shoving his pants and briefs down his thighs.
He kicks them down and off and, struggling to keep his fingers from leaving my body, laughs into a preoccupied kiss.
When I open my eyes to gauge his expression, I find him already looking down at me.
The spontaneous smile that takes over both our faces makes my chest squeeze so tightly I lose my breath.
I watch the same overwhelmed relief I felt earlier pass over his face when I wrap my hand around his cock, stroking up and back down.
His lips offer silent encouragement as he nods, nostrils flared.
This is mine, I think. For tonight at least, you’re mine.
Alec is so hard the skin stretches impossibly tight around the tip; it makes my mouth water.
He swallows thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing, lips parted as his breathing grows sharper, more broken.
With someone new I’d normally be questioning everything I’m doing—is the pressure right, are we going too fast—but tonight there’s none of that.
I’m not sure if it’s the way he looks like he’s already struggling to hold on or how hard he is in my hand, but everything about this feels like it’s happening exactly the way it was meant to.
His body is defined and smooth, skin glistening with a hint of sweat.
I want to feel him moving in every part of me, want the salt of him on my tongue and the entire length of him shoved deep in me, but just imagining how his hand looks on me and in me makes pleasure rise like steam beneath my skin.
I fuck his hand; he fucks my fist. Our kisses grow messy and distracted by pleasure.
I keep thinking we’ll stop this and move on to the next thing—if we only have one night, shouldn’t I taste him?
Shouldn’t he kiss me between my legs? Maybe we’ll transition to actual mind-bending sex.
But even with only our hands it’s better than any sex I’ve had before; I’m so close to the feeling of falling, of coming so hard I worry I’ll wake everyone on the twenty-sixth floor.
“I want to feel you come on my hand,” he says, gasping when my body seizes around him. “On my fingers.”
I’m not far off, and neither is he, I don’t think. My eyes fall closed and he rests his lips on mine, telling me, I’m close, I’m close, and then his words break into filthy, broken phrases that send heat streaking up my neck.
It’s like having pleasure uncorked inside me, spilling everywhere into my blood, and the way my heart is beating, it immediately spreads to every single part of my body, down every fingertip.
With a relieved cry, I come on his fingers, clenching around the deep shove of them.
He tells me he knows—I can feel you coming—and my desperate unraveling seems to turn everything over in him.
With a deep grunt, he follows in a warm pulse against my hip, his teeth bared against my jaw.
I grow aware of how quiet the room was otherwise, and how much noise we were making with our breathing and the frantic movements of our hands and bodies. The air seems to settle in a soft blanket over us, stilling.
“Holy shit,” he says, carefully dragging his fingers back.
I shudder, overstimulated, and he whispers an apology into my mouth, kissing me with unbelievable sweetness.
With the frenetic energy temporarily quieted, we kiss deeply until it feels like his mouth is a part of mine, until I wonder how it is that we’ve only ever done this tonight.
Alec kisses down my neck to my chest, trailing his wet fingers up my body, where he draws circles over my nipples, following with his tongue, telling me I taste as good as I feel.
I am split open and bare for him, on decadent display.
I want this man to take me apart, piece by piece, with his hands and mouth and cock.
I want him to eat me and fuck me and own me.
I dig both hands into his hair and he presses his face squarely between my breasts, stilling there, catching his breath.
“I’m dizzy,” he says, laughing.
“Me too.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned on in my life,” he admits. “We didn’t even make it past third base. Is that amazing or tragic?”
“Amazing,” I say on an exhale. His words echo around inside my head, inflating my pride.
I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned on in my life.
“It wouldn’t have mattered where you touched me,” I say.
“Even if you’d just kept looking at me the way you were downstairs, I would have come just as hard, probably. ”
Alec laughs sleepily, and then his inhales grow deeper, his exhales transition from forceful to exhausted.
He falls asleep all at once, like a gas flame extinguished, his mouth slack against my breast, arms wrapped all the way around my waist. I close my eyes and don’t have another thought until they drift back open again, nearly an hour later.
I stir in the tight confines of his embrace.
We haven’t moved. It’s 2:37 a.m., and his skin under my hands is smooth and warm.
I only mean to send a sleepy palm down his back, but he feels so good, and a little moan escapes.
On instinct, his body makes a slow, deep thrust as he drags his cock against my leg.
Alec pulls his face away, blinking sleepily up at me.
The intimacy of seeing his eyes open and the relieved smile he can’t help pulls a breath out of my chest. When our eyes meet, it’s like I’m a tuning fork that’s been struck—everything in me vibrates. It’s wild how immediately I want him again.
With a quiet, relieved, “Yeah?” he climbs up my body, coming over me, sliding hard and ready against where I am wet.
I’m just about to ask about protection when he kisses me once more and rises up. “Let me get something.”
I watch him leave, hear the sharp zip of his bag being jerked open. Frantic rustling. A tearing of foil, and I imagine a long snaking strip of condom packets spiraling from a box. I absolutely do not think about him traveling to LA with a full box.
Tension eases in me as soon as Alec returns, kneeling on the bed between my legs.
He curves a hand around my knee. “You good?”
I nod, reaching for him, and he tears the wrapper with his teeth. Gripping himself with practiced assurance, he rolls it on with a loose fist down his length.
It’s so erotic I have to look away, up to his face and the lip-biting focus he has as he shifts closer, leaning so he’s there, right there, just the tip of him in and out.
He drags his gaze up my body, and it stalls at my mouth.
But I need all of him, deep, as far into me as he can possibly go.
With both hands I pull at his hips, but he comes into me in tiny increments, an inch forward, an inch back, teeth still tightly trapping his candy bottom lip.
His brows are a portrait of focus as he moves barely deeper and then away.
He whispers a guttural “Oh, shit” the next time he shifts forward.
It is an absolute torture, and when he tilts his head up in a tiny gesture of hard-won restraint, the light catches a hint of sweat on his upper lip.
I don’t know why it’s this tiny detail that ruins me.
“Please,” I say.
He drags his attention back to my face, and then groans, closing his eyes. “I can’t look at you or I’ll lose it. I don’t want this to end.”
I laugh out a tight, hysterical sound. “I might actually lose my mind.”
His laugh is breathless, disbelieving. “I know. Me too.”
How? How is it like this? Is it because we know this is the only time, and it isn’t worth hiding? I grip that truth as tightly as I can; imagining that this is something more meaningful will only lead me to a dead end.
“I want you deep.”
Alec lowers to his elbows beside my head, sliding his kiss-swollen mouth over mine. “I know you do.”
I bite his lip, reaching for his ass to pull him deeper but he’s still set on taking his time getting started and makes me wait. Still teasing. Barely in. Barely out.