Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Braxton laughs against my mouth, but damn it all, I’ve been horny for days.
And after the stress of everything, physical release taunts me like a drug.
Even if it’s only for today, for a few hours, I want this man atop me.
Inside of me, giving me a break from the world, from life’s struggles, and the consequences they bring with them.
I’d much rather he fucks me until my mind is mush, allowing me a reprieve. It’s one more temporary thing, but I’ll take what I can get.
Tenderly, his hands move under my tee. Timid or to savor?
I’m not sure, but it’s not enough. Not when it only takes that small contact to have my eyes roll up and my core clench.
Before I can vocalize my need, my shirt is pulled over my head, the cup of my bra pushed down and Braxton’s mouth is there.
“Fuck,” I say with confusing, agitated relief. My hands grip at him, sliding over his body until I can find purchase on his waistband. He pushes me while he sucks and licks. I slide one hand under the band and find him bare. It’s nothing but cock, glorious cock.
“Ida,” he says after removing his mouth from my breast. “Wrap your hand around me.”
“Are you bossy during sex, Braxton Winterton?”
“Downright demanding,” he says, his eyes burning into mine. “Are you ready for that?”
“I’m more than ready for this,” I answer, working my hand around him. Up and down, over the satiny skin. He doesn’t move back to my body, though. Instead, he stares down at me, eyes bouncing between mine. “What?”
“How long has it been?”
“Since I orgasmed? I tried a couple of days ago in the shower.”
“Did you?” He nips at my jaw. “A floor below me. What did you fantasize about while you touched yourself?”
“This,” I answer, squeezing my fingers.
“It’s been years since I’ve been with a woman, Ida.” The words shiver over my neck as he moves down. “Once I have you naked, I may keep you here all day.”
I don’t answer with words; I do it by sealing my mouth to his.
Forcing my tongue between his lips. Tangling all of me with all of him.
We may only have this day. If he wants to keep me naked for it all, so fucking be it.
My ego is still frayed from last night, but my need for him to fuck me is overtaking it.
None of it will matter much when I’ll be on a flight to Kansas by morning. I pull away to try and remove my pants, a difficult task when he’s atop me. He stands, allowing me room while he pulls his own shirt off. I still, forgetting what I’m doing when I take him in.
I don’t know when he finds the time to work out, though he clearly does.
The muscles of his chest and abdomen are well defined.
Not like a ‘gym-bro’, but not what you’d expect from a man who sits at a computer for hours on end, either.
The itch to trail my fingers over the skin, the flesh that protects his poor, damaged heart is nearly uncontrollable.
It’s not for me to fix that part of him. Even if I did want that job, I’m not sure I could carry the weight of his baggage.
But I can remind him that there is more to life. I can show him he can have a physical relationship without the burden of emotional connection. I’m nearly an expert at it, as it’s all I’ve ever had.
We can fuck and move on with our lives, whatever they bring.
For him, he can continue to lock himself away in this house that’s too large. But maybe now with a renewed interest in what the outside world brings. Maybe with slightly less distrust. Not everyone is out to hurt him. I’m certainly not.
No, I want to bring him to his knees, I think, removing the last of my clothing and standing before him.
When we’re done, I want him panting for air and coherent thought.
If I leave him craving more human connection, just enough to tickle his curiosity about what, or who, is out there, then I’ll have repaid him for the shelter he’s provided.
Braxton stares at me with the same intense scrutiny that I do him. His cock thickens between us as he does. His approving gaze washes away any physical insecurities I have about myself. He looks at me like I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.
He’s every bit the most gorgeous man I’ve ever stood toe to toe with.
“Fuck,” he lets the curse fall like a prayer and drops to the floor.
He pulls my knee over his shoulder, and his mouth finds my pussy.
Maybe one of his many talents is mindreading, because this is exactly what I wanted; him moaning into me, thrusting his tongue as far inside as he can get it.
His thumbs open me wider, and I have to grasp his hair to hold myself steady, the pleasure vibrating through my whole body.
One thumb slides in. I want to cry from how good it feels and yet I need so much more.
“Braxton.”
“Move with it, Ida. Fuck my face,” he commands. “Come on my tongue. I’ll die of disappointment if you don’t.”
Oh, God. He peers up at me, a determined frown on his face. His eyes shine with a lustful need, though.
Moving slowly at first, I find a rhythm that works for both of us before I grind harder against him. The more force I use, the more he matches. One of his hands grips the globe of my ass, possessive and controlling, holding me to his mouth.
He isn’t timid or gentle, he devours me like a ravenous beast, pushing inside then sucking at my clit. It drives me crazier and crazier; my leg tightens around his shoulder as the knot of nerves begins to unravel.
“I’m going…” I can’t finish whatever thought had started because he hums into me and like a sun bursting through a cloud, I light the fuck up.
I hold his head as I shake through it, not wanting him to pull away too quickly, needing to ride this out fully.
I needn’t have worried though because even after the sensations subside, Braxton keeps licking, ignoring my sensitive flinching. “I need…”
“My cock in your cunt,” Braxton finishes for me.
He lifts me, only to place me on my back against the plush rug.
I watch him hungrily while he digs a condom out of his discarded pants.
He crawls over me. With a knee on either side of my waist, he towers over me, giving me the best view as he strokes himself.
“If you have dislikes, now is the time to speak them, Ida.”
“I’ve yet to find anything I find displeasing.”
“Adventurous?”
“Daring,” I say, propping myself up on my elbows so that I’m able to lick the tip of his pretty dick.
“You’d have to be to let a creepy horror novelist take you in during your most vulnerable moment,” he says after the noticeable shiver works its way up his spine.
“Some would say I’m much more vulnerable in this moment,” I say, repeating the action to see if it elicits the same reaction from him. It does. “Sidenote: you’re not creepy. Intriguing, but not creepy.”
“Liar,” he says distractedly as he starts to slowly roll the condom over himself. “As much as I want to fuck that mouth, it can wait. First, I need that sweet cunt. Legs up, straight.”
Braxton steps back, allowing me to do as he commands. Allowing him room to drop back down to his knees. He holds my ankles together with one large hand, the other he uses to work me back into a frenzy.
His fingers tickle first, then caress, rubbing small circles around my most sensitive area. All the while he speaks but I’m not sure he’s aware the words are aloud.
“Decadent. The most delicious seduction I’ve ever tasted. Filthy.” He says the last word like a curse before he pushes inside me, not stopping until he’s fully seated and my head is thrown back in overwhelming pleasure. “Don’t you fucking move, Ida. Not yet.”
Braxton hasn’t cursed much in my present. But his normal gentlemanly ways are nonexistent now, shed right along with his clothes, it seems.
His cock inches out slowly, then back in impossibly slower.
Such a small movement still fuels my desire for more like gas on an already raging bonfire.
I don’t interrupt with pleads for more though.
He seems… focused. Determined to not rush it, maybe.
I can’t be sure and his mumbling has become quieter and less coherent.
His free hand roams my hip, dives under my ass and lifts me slightly, only to release me quickly when the action makes my cunt squeeze around him.
Again, I still, content to let him feel his way through this. For now, anyway. I want him to fuck me with abandon, but I won’t be greedy about it. He did give me one orgasm already, after all.
After a moment, he starts to pull out further and slide in with more vigor. His urges take over his will, and he leans further into my legs, changing the angle at which his dick hits. The sound that escapes me is uncontrollable.
“Ida,” he calls, spreading my legs as he dives atop me. His mouth on neck, a hand kneading my breast, his cock finally, fucking finally, working into me the power I’ve craved for days now.
And I move.
Meeting his every forward motion, my knees finding purchase on his hips, fingers in his curls. Braxton bites at my crook like a vampire. Every muscle in me tightens but not in fear.
“Yes,” I cry. Harder and harder, he connects, the rug starting to burn my skin beneath me. How deliciously it amps up the pleasure. “More.”
Now it’s he who obeys. Over and over. Again and again. More and more and more. Calling my name as if it’s the filthiest word of any known language.
“Come, Ida. Come on my cock. Do it now.” He grinds against my pelvis and I fall into another orgasm, nearly screaming with the release. I expect him to follow along with me, but he holds off long enough to pull out, remove the condom and position the tip of his dick to my hardened nipple.
He coats me in his warmth, painting my breasts like the artist he is, seeing something I can’t see.
Finished, he props up beside me, taking in his artwork as we both pant to regulate our heart rates.
I’ll be sore, marked with small mementos to remind me of our time. They’ll fade with time. Eventually they will vanish altogether.
But something tells me I’ll never be rid of the memory of his skin on mine.