22. Nick #2
I’m not one to wax poetic about a penis, but this is Nick . He’s long, and thick, and jutting proudly, precum beading at the tip. I want him in my mouth so bad I can’t breathe. The only thing I want more is to feel him thrusting inside me.
“Hey, my eyes are up here.” He laughs.
I nod toward his junk. “Let me objectify you for one more minute.”
He breathes out a husky laugh and takes himself in hand, as I fist mine into the soft, navy comforter. It should be me touching him. With my tongue. I sit up, ready to knock his hand away, but he backs up a step.
“I want to taste you,” I beg.
“Not now.”
“Why not?” I don’t care that I’m a whiny mess.
He comes closer, tracing a finger lightly over my neck. “You want me to spill down your pretty throat?”
“Fucking yes, I do.”
His finger trails from my neck to my breasts, circling my nipple. “What if I want to pump you full? Watch it drip out of you.”
I have died. I died and went to dirty girl heaven. “That sounds okay, I guess,” I joke, but my voice is so low, throaty, needy .
“You’ll take me bare?”
He teases my breasts until I can’t think straight. I furrow my brow because he asked a question, and it’s important, but needing him inside me is too all-consuming.
“June,” he whispers. “Do you want me to wear a condom?”
I tense, his question finally registering. He doesn’t miss a beat, grabbing a foil packet from his nightstand drawer. My hand darts out to grip his wrist. “Wait.”
His stare is so heavy on me, the weight of his gaze intoxicating. “Whatever you want to do, angel.”
“I—I don’t know.”
He runs a hand through my hair, brushing it behind my ear. “We can slow down.”
“God no, I know I don’t want that.” I slip my hand over his. I’ll cry if he stops touching me. “Do you want to wear one?”
His thumb trails back and forth across my cheek as his eyes waver between mine. “I’ve wanted you. For so long. However you’ll have me, I’ll take it. But I can’t lie, the thought of fucking you raw?—”
He cuts off on a stifled groan, his hands shaking.
I do that to him. Heat pours from me, from this feeling of power radiating through me. “I said I didn’t know, but that’s not true. I do know. I want you bare, inside me. It just … feels like something I’m not supposed to want? I’ve—I’ve never done that. With anyone.”
“Me either,” he rasps.
“I’m on the pill, and I got tested when I moved back to the city, negative. Haven’t been with anyone since.”
“I’m negative. Tested during my physical last year. It’s been a long time since I’ve …”
I pluck the condom packet from his hand and toss it back on the nightstand.
“That settles that.”
His hand in my hair slides to my chest, right over my heart. “Lay back down for me, angel.”
Angel. No one’s ever called me that before. No one’s ever looked at me like this before. I feel warm, and safe, and cherished.
“Good girl,” he whispers, crawling over me until he’s laid out, the head of his cock bumping my stomach.
“Why is saying good girl so fucking hot?” The heat of his body makes mine so sensitive. It seeps into me through every pore.
He brushes kisses along my jaw, up to my ear. “I knew. When you turned pages for me at that first rehearsal, I fucking knew.”
“Knew what?”
His hand roams, cupping my breasts, trailing along my stomach, tracing the pulse point in my neck. “I’ve been thinking about how to make you squirm ever since I said, ‘Atta girl.’ Did you really not know you like to be praised?”
I grab his face in both my hands until our eyes lock together. “It’s not just the words, Nick. It’s who’s saying them.”
His fingers toy with the mussed strands of my hair. “So you like being a good girl for me ?”
I let out a shaky breath, somewhere between a wheeze and a whimper. Arousal rushes out of me, coats my thighs. No one’s ever gotten me this wet before. At this rate, I’ll be dehydrated for a week. I squeeze my legs around his hips. “I really, really, do.”
“Good. I love telling you how perfect you are.” His lips drag over my throat, teeth skimming my collarbone until I mewl. “Like how your little noises are fucking hot.”
My hands slide around his back, his muscles bunching and rolling beneath my fingers. I bury my face in his chest. I’ve never had a partner be so vocal in bed, or so effusive.
He cradles the back of my head, pulling gently until I look at him. “I don’t want to embarrass you, but I don’t want you to hide from me, either.”
“I’m not embarrassed,” I murmur. He pins me with his stare, head tilting slightly. And I know exactly what that gesture means. “Okay, I’m embarrassed, but not why you think.”
“Then why?” He nudges his nose against mine.
His face still smells like me, and I lick my lips.
The way this man eats, like he’s starved for me.
Like I’m the best thing he’s ever tasted.
I’d say it’s unfair how good he is with his tongue, but it’s only unfair to every other girl because his mouth is mine.
“I’m embarrassed by how much I like it,” I murmur.
“Oh, yeah? So you like hearing how good you taste? How hot you look after I make you come.”
My hips rock up, begging for him. I brush against his cock and shiver, so sensitive after my mind-blowing orgasm. But he presses a hand on my abdomen, stilling me. “I told you I’m taking my time.”
I draw his face to mine until our breaths mingle. “I need you, please.”
His thumb traces the curve of my bottom lip. He presses a quick kiss to it, then whispers in my ear, “Say it again. You beg so sweetly for me, June.”
Dizzy with longing, I reach for him as he pulls back. “I need you inside me. Now . Please .”
His jaw flexes, tendons in his neck straining as he lines himself up with my entrance. “I want to watch.”
He locks his eyes on where we’re joined, sliding in his thick cock inch by inch.
But I can’t look away from his face. I do love when he praises me, like little flowers blooming beneath my skin.
But right now? He doesn’t need to worship me with words.
The warmth in his eyes, his mouth dropping open in awe, in reverence.
My heart is full to bursting, and my body is too, as he seats himself inside me fully. Sinking in to the hilt.
We moan together and Nick drops his forehead to mine. “I knew it. I knew you’d take me so well.”
I’m so full—everywhere, so full—I can’t breathe. I swivel my hips, testing, and a gasp rockets up my throat. “Please, I need it. I need you to fuck me.”
“Better than I ever dreamed.” He withdraws, and the slow drag of his cock against my walls has me whimpering.
But it cuts off as he snaps his hips forward and drives home.
Nick drills into me, rough movements so at odds with the gentle, sweet words he whispers onto my skin—how I’m amazing, perfect, so good for him.
His pace stutters, frenzied, and his hand slips between us to rub circles over my clit. “Need to feel you come. Give it to me, angel. Be a good girl and come on my cock.”
My climax rips through me without warning, almost violent as it overpowers my senses and drags me into oblivion.
I’m dimly aware that I’m shouting, thrashing, digging my nails into Nick’s back.
But I don’t care, not as I chase a pleasure so intense it hurts.
My orgasm only spurs him on as he continues hammering into me, filling me to the hilt each time, until finally he trembles, loosing a growl as he finds his own pleasure.
Warmth fills me, and I moan. He ducks his head between my neck and shoulder, breathing heavy as he groans with me.
“You squeeze me so tight. Your perfect pussy’s fucking strangling me, baby.
” He thrusts again, and an aftershock of an orgasm washes over me.
I throw my head back and my toes curl. Nick keeps pumping, prolonging my pleasure.
“That’s right, milk me dry while I fuck you through another one. ”
My vision completely whites out. Nick’s filthy mouth and magic dick render me blind.
All my senses recede except for his touch.
I feel every place we’re joined, our sweaty bodies sliding over each other.
Nick’s hand goes to the back of my head, holding me steady while he works me over until finally, finally, the world comes back into view.
Nick’s face is inches from mine, staring at me like I’m a goddess. “Hey.” My voice is scraped raw from screaming.
“I thought you were gorgeous when you came on my tongue, but this? June, I …” He pulls out of me slowly, his breath shuddering. “You’re everything.”
The bridge of my nose stings. I don’t even know what to say to that.
Yes, you do , you silly goose . That voice is right.
There are three little words waiting on my tongue.
But that’s the endorphins talking. It’s biological.
Speaking of … I should use the bathroom.
If my early twenties taught me anything, it’s that UTIs are no joke.
But I’m so boneless, and Nick feels so good. He’s in turns frenzied, then gentle, yet adoring through it all. The way he pumped into me, unrelenting, and now he’s touching me with such care, like I might break. He shifts us so our heads hit the pillows, and we stare at each other.
Another piece of Nick falls into place in my heart.
With nothing between us, and nowhere to hide? Sure, he calls me angel, but it’s him. I’m the lucky one to be on the receiving end of his joy, and passion, and kindness.
And his mouth .
That mouth kisses the corner of my lips, and he says, “I’ll be right back.”
I stretch my arms overhead, even pointing my toes, relishing the feeling of being thoroughly fucked. With a sigh, I roll over, ready for that bathroom break when I spot Nick by the door, watching me.
His breath shudders as he shakes his head, prowling closer. “You’re really here,” he murmurs, so low I almost don’t hear. He runs a hand from my side to my thigh, turning me until I’m on my back again. “Open for me, angel.”
I couldn’t deny him if I tried, so I let my legs fall open.
He grunts, satisfied, and uses a washcloth on my thighs and pussy, cleaning me with gentle swipes.
“It’s warm,” I hum. He didn’t just run a cloth under the tap, he waited for the water to heat.
It’s five extra seconds, it shouldn’t get me this choked up, but it’s the thought.
He’s always thinking of me, my needs. I sit up, grab his face in my hands, and kiss him.
With my eyes scrunched closed, a tear slips down my cheek.
Nick must feel it, because he pulls away, scanning me. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong ? Not only did you give me the best orgasms—plural—of my entire existence, but you take care of me like this? Where did you come from?”
“You’re entire existence, huh?” His mouth pulls up in a half-smile.
“Three times.” I flop back against the pillows and headboard. “I came three times. That’s like, unheard of.”
“Maybe for you.” He leans over me, kisses me below my jaw.
“No, for anyone. I’m gonna get dehydrated.”
He laughs, tossing the washcloth in a laundry basket in the corner.
“What’s so funny?”
He turns back, ranging himself over me, and settling between my legs. With the backs of his fingers, he scratches lightly up my side, brushing my breast. “You think I’m stopping at three? You don’t know how many different ways I’ve imagined making you come.”
I must be out of my mind, because UTI be damned, I need him again. Now .
He needs me, too, if the rapidly hardening length of his cock is any indication. With a hand on the back of my head, he flips our positions so I’m on top. I tilt my hips back and gasp as I rub against him.
“Yeah, soak my dick with that pretty pussy before you ride it.” He takes charge, hands digging into my hips as he draws me back and forth over his cock.
Helpless whimpers and mewls stutter out of my throat until I can’t take it anymore.
I rise up on my knees, brushing his hands away, and line him up with my entrance.
I lower myself slowly, reveling in the stretch from this new angle.
He’s big enough that I have to work until I’m all the way down.
But when I am, I groan at how good, how right, how full I feel taking him.
“Nick,” I moan, and hope he hears all the things I’m too far gone with pleasure to say.
He leans up, dragging my lips to his as his tongue curls into my mouth. His hand slides over all of me—from my ass to my stomach, up to my tits, finally settling on my back where he presses us together even tighter. “You feel so good, I’m not gonna last.”
I smirk, circling my hips.
“Fuck yeah, like that,” he pants into my mouth. With one last squeeze of my ass, he lies back. “Bounce on it, baby. Show me how you like to fuck yourself on my cock.”
A moan slips from my lips as arousal leaks out of me, coating both of us. My hands go to his chest; the hair there is soft and we’re both slick with sweat. And I do as I’m told, riding him, chasing my climax that builds and builds until it knocks me over and I freefall. Into Nick.
His hips move, jutting up, and he groans as he releases into me.
Once I collapse onto him, he rolls us to the side but doesn’t pull out. I want to stay this way, so thoroughly wrapped up in each other, forever. But after a few minutes, my breathing slows and I say, “I should use the bathroom.”
I extract myself and pad off in search of his toilet. I don’t know why I’m surprised when Nick follows me into the bathroom. I shouldn’t be. I need to pee, but have we crossed that line? Nick, oblivious to my inner turmoil, turns on the tub faucets.
“I’ll grab towels.” He kisses my cheek and heads into the hallway.
I seize my moment of privacy to do what needs to be done, then slip into the tub. The hot water further relaxes all my muscles, and so does Nick when he steps in behind me, massaging my shoulders.
I’d give anything to live in this moment always—when our soak in the tub turns into more .
When we laugh and stumble into his kitchen, still wet, like we’re drunk.
And maybe we are, on each other. When we eat cold bowling alley pizza and make out on his kitchen counter.
When I fall asleep, smiling, with Nick wrapped around me.
But nothing lasts forever.
Because Monday morning, I wake up to an email from Helen. The director of the tour wants to see me in person, on the day of the gala.