Chapter 23
A startled laugh falls from my lips when he picks me up and tosses me to the couch like I weigh nothing.
His cocky grin widens as his eyes rake over my body.
Taking his time, he steps out of the gray sweatpants still around his ankles.
He’s sex and sin standing over me. The perfect muscle tone of his body makes him look like he could be a carved statue in an Italian museum.
Each ripple of his abdominal muscles is on display down to the perfect V-line leading to his long, hard cock.
“How are you already hard again?” I ask in amazement. With how he just came down my throat, I can’t believe he’s ready to go again. Doesn’t it take guys longer to rebound than that?
“I’m always hard looking at you. I thought you knew that.” He lifts my ankle to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss to the bridge of my foot.
“I don’t know if I believe that.”
“No? You been staring at my crotch every time we talk lately.” He repeats his actions on my other foot and pulls me to the edge of the couch.
“Of course not,” I huff. “I just mean I doubt you can get hard just by looking at me. There’s nothing sexual about me in the office or on the field.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Princess.” He lowers to his knees in front of me and runs his thumbs along the outside edge of the fabric. Taunting. Teasing.
“Please,” I beg.
“Hmm, just how I remember.” He yanks the fabric to the side, exposing me.
“So fucking drenched for me.” With two fingers, he spreads me open and blows softly on my swollen clit.
My hips buck off the couch, but he uses his other hand to pin me down.
“Are you going to be a good girl and come on my tongue?”
“Fuck. Yes.” He devours me, making out with my pussy while holding me down.
“Oh my god, oh my god.” I’m so close. When his tongue spears inside my opening and his fingers pinch my clit, I detonate.
Falling over the cliff as my orgasm takes me under.
He doesn’t stop licking me until my pulse steadies and my incoherent mumbling stops, then he rips my panties off and crawls up my body.
“Watching you fall apart has me ready to fuck this little pussy until we both forget why we fought this for so long,” he whispers into my ear before biting the lobe and nipping along my jawline. The tip of his cock presses against my entrance as he starts to slide inside.
“Condom,” I choke out. He lifts his head, meeting my eyes. It takes a minute for the words to register. The lustful haze heavy around us.
“Fuck, right. Be right back.” Pushing up, he leaves the room. The momentary reprieve is enough for me to remember the stakes. His career. My career.
Doubt sets in. We’ve crossed a line tonight. Am I okay with that? What happens now? Are we together? Or is this just fun? All questions I should’ve worried about before showing up almost naked on his doorstep, but ones that didn’t seem as important at the time.
“Ride me,” he says, rolling the condom on and bringing me back to the present as he walks back into the room.
Not waiting for a response, he picks me up again and settles onto the couch.
I have no choice but to straddle him. My hands rest on his shoulders as he lines himself at my entrance.
I hiss as he fills me. I haven’t had sex since our night together almost a year ago.
“You feel so good.” He unhooks my bra and drags the straps down my arms.
I momentarily freeze and stare down at him.
I don’t know what to do. How he likes it.
The last time I was on top, I was fueled by tequila courage.
He liked it then, but I had zero thoughts or inhibitions.
Now, I’m sober as a judge and my brain is working overtime.
A million questions are running on loop in my mind.
How do I look from this angle?
Is my double chin showing?
My full breasts aren’t as perky without the support from my bra.
Does he still like what he sees?
“You good?” he asks, peppering kisses along my collarbone. His teeth graze lightly but not enough to leave a mark. He’s still hard inside me so that’s a good sign.
“Um, yeah, sorry. Just in my head a bit.”
His large palms grip my hips, rocking me against him. It feels good. Then he leans back resting his arms along the back of the couch. Why couldn’t he have kept doing what he was doing? It felt good.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Think, Gabby, think. I rock my hips, starting slowly while having a mini panic attack in my head. His stare is penetrating and making me even more self-conscious.
“Get out of your head, Bree. Be here with me.” He drops his hands to my thighs and thrusts up from beneath me, hitting that secret spot deep inside. I moan and meet his hips for more.
“Ride my dick, Princess. I want to see you.” His uncanny ability to read my mind is unsettling.
I mentally give myself a pep talk while meeting his thrusts.
You can do this. Just do what they said in the video. Yes! The video! Okay what did she say?
I can’t help the smirk on my face at remembering the video from social media of the woman giving women tips on how to ride a man and drive him crazy.
I keep rocking my hips giving myself time to remember.
Slowly, I lift up to bounce a little. He seems to like that move.
His gaze drops to where we’re connected and he watches as I lower down his shaft.
His hands begin to rub up and down my thighs.
Closing my eyes, I tip my head back. Partly so Chase thinks I’m enjoying this, but also so I can think without his eyes boring into me or making me more insecure.
Coconuts! That’s it, spell coconuts with my hips.
Taking a minute to think through my motions and orient myself, I rock my hips a few more times to find a good starting point. I lean my weight to the right before swiveling my hips forward towards his chest, then to the left and back in a semi-circle arch to draw the letter “C” with my hips.
That doesn’t feel too bad. The motion of his dick inside me felt nice too.
Moving onto the next letter, I circle my hips in a large circle. I jerk a little quickly and it comes out jagged, but it was a good enough “O”. I’m very disconnected and uncoordinated in this spelling.
With my eyes screwed shut, I give myself another mental pep talk. Get your shit together and make this flow better. Another “C” and then an “O” again. I can do this. Try to make it cursive.
Leaning forward, I brace my hands on his lower abs to give me more leverage before I start again.
He’s quiet, which scares me, but he’s also not pushing me and I’m more afraid of opening my eyes and reading the questions in his.
Or worse, him saying he hates this. I am not the same woman he slept with on that island and it shows.
I don’t dare open my eyes and look at him as I repeat the first “C” and “O” of coconuts. My hips rocks slightly and then I move through the c-o-c-o. Thankfully, that time it was much smoother, and I was able to relax into it. But now, I’m stuck.
How the fuck am I supposed to do an “N”? I guess I’ll just move back the other way. Counterclockwise and then buck up and over the abs. Okay, here goes.
I sit up a little and yank my hips to the left in the counter-clockwise motion, then arch back and lift my hips in the front to make the curve of the “N”.
“Ow, fuck.” My eyes pop open at his curse and I freeze. That wasn’t an “I’m enjoying this” fuck. That sounded more like I hurt him.
“Are you okay?” I start to dismount but he grips my hips and holds me still. Oh god, please don’t let me have broken his dick. I’ve read about that. We cannot go to the emergency room together—attached or separate—with his dick broken because of me. Christ, I can see the headlines already.
He clears his throat and sits up. His dick still feels intact to me, but I could be wrong. What does a broken dick even feel like? He wraps his arms around my waist, bringing us chest to chest.
“I love the feel of you,” he murmurs softly before pecking my lips. His hands trail up and down my back in a soothing motion. “But what the fuck are you doing?” Humor laces his tone, though he doesn’t outright laugh.
Oh god. What if I’ve ruined this? What if it’s not broken and he’s just gone soft now?
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Again, I try to get off of him, but he holds me firmly. The corner of his eyes crinkle and his smile breaks through.
“Don’t laugh at me.” I bury my face in my hands.
“It’s kinda hard not to, Princess, when you were treating my cock like a joystick in a video game you have no idea how to play.”
“Let me go.”
“Just wait. Talk to me. What happened?” He pulls my hands from my face and they fall into my lap.
“I don’t know. I walked in here all false bravado and got on my knees for you, but when you asked me to get on top my brain started working in overdrive.”
“About what?” He soothes his palms over my thighs.
“Not knowing what to do. How to make you feel good.”
“Anything you do feels good. Just touching you is enough for me. Was that all?” I shake my head. “Do you want to tell me or do you want me to guess?”
“It’s stupid.”
“Okay, let me guess. That big, beautiful brain of yours started questioning what you were doing here. Wondering what this was and what it means outside of this room.”
“How did you know?”
“We may not have known each other long, Bree, but I pay attention. I feel like I know you. You never want to be a burden to your friends or anyone else. You don’t want to appear weak or vulnerable.
You’re the smartest person in the room with a drive to succeed that often results in you sacrificing yourself and your needs. ”
“Pretty accurate.”
“What do you need right now? Do you want to stop?”
“No, I? I don’t know. Do you want to stop?”
“Hell no I don’t want to stop. I already told you, you’re mine now.” As if in agreement, he twitches inside of me.
“But how will this even work? It doesn’t change anything. We can’t be together in real life. No one can know about us.” Are we really having a “what are we” conversation? What is wrong with me?
“Princess, it changes everything. If we need to keep it a secret for now, we can, but we are doing this.” He rubs soothing circles over my thighs.
“Sorry, I ruined this.”
“You didn’t ruin anything. Do you not feel what you do to me?” He thrusts up into me from below. “Do I need to remind you again what happens when I look at you?” He doesn’t wait for me to respond, instead he lifts me and throws me back on the couch again.
“You in those sexy-as-fuck librarian glasses? Hard.” With a palm to my chest, he pushes me back so I’m lying flat on the cushions. “You in those tight skirts and dresses? Showing off every delicious curve to your body?” He traces the flare of my hips. “Yep, hard.”
“Oh god,” I breathe out when his mouth hovers over my pussy again.
“The memory of your taste on my tongue? Your perfect princess pussy gripping my cock and taking us both over the edge? Rock. Fucking. Hard.” He licks up the middle of my sex, and I can’t hold back anymore. I need him to fuck me.
“Ohmigod, can we have sex now?”
“I thought you’d never ask. Need me to take control for you, baby? Is that what you need?” He crawls back up my body.
“Yes.” I bury my face in his neck to hide.
“Hold tight.” He stands, carrying me to the window. The way he brushes against me while he walks has me moaning.
“Put me down. I’m too heavy.”
“You’re perfect.” He pins me to the floor to ceiling window. The glass is cool against my back. “Now turn your brain off and enjoy the ride while I make you scream for me.”
Scream I do. Over and over and over again.