Bad Boy Good Man (6 page)

He pushed both hands under, covering my
breasts and massaging them against my chest. My nipples slid
between his fingers, and he pinched them just a little tighter. I
squirmed; without the ability to explore his body, all of my
attention focused directly on what he was making me feel. He
lowered his head and pushed up my t-shirt.

I felt his breath on me, and a light brush of
his lips against my skin as he said, “I have a confession to
make.”

“O-oh?” My voice trembled.

“I accidentally saw your boobs when I came in
here, earlier.” He laughed, his mouth heating my skin without
touching me. It was maddening.

Still, I managed to laugh. “Yeah? What’s the
verdict?”

“A-plus, will definitely keep thinking about
them when I’m in the shower.” He sucked one of my nipples into his
mouth, and I lifted my ribcage, arching toward him. He rolled my
flesh between his teeth and swirled his tongue over me. His other
hand imitated the motion, circling my nipple and bringing it to a
hard peak.

I rocked on my hands, wanting to bring them
up to touch him, to grab his hair and pull him tight to me. When he
moved on to the other side, I thought I would need my inhaler.
Please do not let the only time I’m with a guy this hot end in a
trip to the ER.

“Hey, Ellie?” he murmured against my skin,
his breath teasing the wetness his mouth had left behind. “You
should probably be breathing right now.”

“Oh, right.” I let out a breath I hadn’t been
aware of holding and relaxed my shoulders. “Turns out you’re really
good at this.”

“I get practice.” He kissed between my
breasts, pushing my shirt up farther to lave the top curves, still
groping and squeezing with his hands. His mouth was all over the
place, like he couldn’t decide what inch of my skin he should
nibble or suck on next.

“I want to touch you,” I moaned, my head
dropping back in a delicious stretch.

“All right. Touch me,” he challenged, and
when I tried to free my hands, he grabbed my arms. “No. Not like
that. You can touch me, but not with those.”

I’m surprised my grin didn’t light up the
entire room. I leaned forward, which was a real trick in the
position I was in. Still, I managed to find his neck with my
teeth.

“Hey, nothing above the collar. I have a
job,” he reminded me.

A job where he had to wear suits and walk
around looking totally hot. Yeah, I didn’t want to mess that up. I
snaked my tongue up, over the rough stubble on his jaw. Two kisses
led me to his mouth. The backs of his fingers glided down my
stomach, under the waistband of my pants. I hadn’t put on panties,
so he encountered the soft strip of curls on my mound. That seemed
to surprise him; he choked back a groan. “You’re probably going to
hit me, but I have to know.”

I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Yes. It
matches.”

He combed his fingers through my pubic hair
and sighed. “And, I don’t even get to see it.”

“Maybe another time,” I joked, but it wasn’t
really a joke. At all. I was already hoping he could work me into a
Tuesday or Thursday time slot. I reminded myself that this might be
a one-off, and I needed to just slow down and enjoy it.

The tip of his middle finger slid down my
cleft, over my clit. He swirled in a slow circle, and I moaned. He
dipped lower and found my opening, to penetrate me just slightly.
Then, his hand withdrew, to come up beside my face as I kissed him.
He pulled back and I heard a wet smacking sound. He was tasting me,
I realized, and grew even wetter.

“Take these off.” He snapped the drawstring
band of my pajama pants, then tugged the knot loose.

“You
are
bossy.” I slid from his lap,
shaking my numb hands before I pulled down the pants. I wished I
could have been wearing some lingerie I could slowly peel off. And
that we had light so he could see me doing it. “I like it.”

“You do, huh?” He gripped my hips and pulled
me forward. “Then, get up here, and ride on my face.”

My knees went weak. No one had ever talked to
me like that, at least, not when they weren’t some disgusting
stranger shouting at me on the street. In this situation, it had
the exact opposite effect; I practically vaulted onto him. He
caught me with a laugh, and somehow, we aligned ourselves properly,
my knees on either side of his head as he scooted down on the
couch. He grabbed my hips to bring me down. His nose brushed my
curls, and he inhaled deep, then exhaled on a low growl. His
tongue, flat and wide, slicked between my labia, over my clit, back
and forth until my pelvis rocked, and I reached up to cup my
breasts. I thought I might be getting close… No, I was actually
getting close, when he turned his attention lower, plunging his
tongue into me.

My hopes fell a little bit. Well, he wasn’t
going to be
perfect
at sex. And, a lot of guys didn’t
realize how important repetition was.

Then, he returned to my clit, this time with
a pointed tongue to flick back and forth over just the tip, and he
did it again. Got me nearly there, then left me high and dry. I
whined in disappointment before I could stop myself.

He kissed my clit, just a little peck, but it
throbbed through my whole body. Muffled between my thighs, he said,
“I’m doing that on purpose, you know.”

“You… Why?” I sank my hands into his hair,
sliding my wet cleft back and forth over his chin, his lips, his
nose.

“Because, in a minute here, I’m going to make
you come, and you’re going to go crazy, because you had to wait for
it.” He closed his mouth over my clit and sucked, circling his
tongue around and around.

His confidence was what pushed me so close to
the edge so fast. My orgasm built and built, but never broke. I
clung to the arm of the couch, digging my fingers into the
upholstery as I rode his face. “Oh my god!” I shouted, praying that
this time, this time he would let me have that explosive pleasure
he’d promised me. Then, incredibly, I was there, teetering at the
brink, spilling over, my pussy so wet I was sure it had dripped
down his face.

So,
that’s
what the screaming was
about.

I couldn’t blame those women. This guy was
like some kind of artist working in the medium of sex.

“I really want to be inside you,” he gasped,
like a man surfacing from a pool.

“Don’t you want me to…” I found one of his
hands and pulled it to my mouth, sucking his finger to give him a
clue.

“Of course I do,” he said, moving his other
hand between my legs. “But I want this more.”

Want
. That was what was so different
about this, compared to other guys I’d had sex with. He
wanted
, but he didn’t feel
entitled
. Nothing was
expected. There was no script, no,
make-sure-I-get-everything-I-can-from-her demand for every sexual
act. It was such an overwhelming relief, I thought I would cry.

“Let’s move to the bed.” My voice trembled
with need. “I’ve got condoms in my bedside table.”

“Is that where your toys are, too?” he teased
as I climbed off him. I took his hand in the dark and led him on
the path I had memorized.

“Yes, as a matter of fact. Can you
see
through the wall, too?” Even though he’d just gone down on me, I
was somehow mortified that he knew all of my nocturnal
activities.

“No, but I heard a drawer open, I assume
because the nightstand is a little uneven and rocks against the
wall. And, I’ve heard buzzing, so I know you have a vibrator.” He
bumped into me when my knees hit the edge of the bed.

“So what? Am I being judged here?” I mean, I
wasn’t some kind of pervert; I’d never told anyone to ride my
face.

“No way.” He put a hand between my shoulder
blades and pushed me down gently, so I was bent over the bed. “I
was just thinking about our options.”

Use sex toys? The first time out of the gate?
Usually, I had to gauge the mood, and only one guy had ever been
grudgingly okay with me occasionally using my vibrator during sex.
There seemed to be something threatening about it to men.

But not this man, clearly. It was like he was
up for anything, and that was refreshing in a way I’d never
imagined possible.

The fly of his jeans brushed the backs of my
thighs, and his fingers trailed down my back, following the line of
my spine to the curve of my ass. His thumb slipped between, skating
down to press against my pussy, and I angled my hips back.

“I can’t wait to get all of this—” he pushed
his thumb farther. “—around me.”

Fair was fair. If he got a preview, I got
one, too. I straightened and turned, my fingers encountering the
hard plane of his chest, then feeling the way across the ridges of
his abs to the top of his jeans. I gripped the waistband and popped
the button, parting the zipper as I pushed my hand inside.

I wasn’t the only one who’d gone commando. He
made a low, guttural sound as I closed my hand around him. He was
hard and wide and just a bit longer than average, with a few
prominent veins that pulsed beneath my fingertips.

“Does everything meet your approval?” he
asked.

I pretended to consider with a “hmmm…”

He gripped my butt and pulled me up tight,
trapping my hands between us, still on his cock. He crushed my
mouth with a kiss then released me to push down his jeans.

“I can’t tell you if it meets approval until
I get a sample,” I answered him finally. When his erection was
free, it bobbed between us, brushing my stomach.

“Find me a condom, and I would be glad to
offer you a demonstration,” he quipped.

I opened the nightstand and found the box,
somehow ripped it open, and handed him a long string of them.

“I only need one.” The crinkle of plastic
preceded a muttered curse then he was between my legs. The
latex-covered tip of him brushed against me, and I arched up,
taking him inside just a tiny bit. He leaned down and kissed me,
and with a flicker and the jarring whir of appliances waking up,
the power came back on.

“Was that all it took?” He grinned and leaned
down again, still just inside me.

The dark had been fun, but seeing him, his
lean, muscled body tense above mine, his dark eyes and
unapologetically egotistical grin made me feel every stage of my
arousal all over again. In mere seconds, my body was on fire. I
squirmed impatiently under him and brought my knees up around his
waist to try and urge him deeper. When he didn’t budge, I cried
out, “Oh, come on!”

“Hey!” he barked. Then, with a teasing smile,
he said, “Be considerate of your neighbors!”

I would have laughed, but I was so desperate
for him to fill me that all I said was, “Then, keep me quiet. Just
fuck me!”

“Do you wanna see how we kept it quiet?” he
whispered. There was a delicious glimmer of predatory pleasure in
his gaze that thrilled me to my toes.

If whatever it was involved him fucking me,
then, “Oh, yes.”

Gently, he covered my mouth with his hand,
his thumb stroking my chin. “This took care of the screaming.
this…” He entered me so slowly, I wanted to weep. I could feel
every pulse of his cock inside me, and it was amazing, but I needed
more. He smiled down at me. “If we go slow, that keeps the
headboard from banging.”

His pace was maddening. I wanted him to speed
up, to slam the headboard against the wall so hard I would have to
redecorate. But if he did, it wouldn’t feel like
this
. Hand
over my mouth or not, I wasn’t sure I could keep quiet, even for
the sake of a demonstration.

He lifted his hand to brace himself against
the mattress. “Does that answer your question?”

“Please, please, please,” I begged, tipping
my pelvis to grind my clit against his hard length.

“Please what?” He asked, still stroking in
and out in an unhurried rhythm.

“Please make me come.” I reached between us
to touch myself and heard the bedside table drawer open.

He pressed the vibrating bullet into my hand
and clicked the switch, then shifted onto his knees to give me room
to work. “Make yourself come. But don’t stop at one. Keep
going.”

I cringed at the thought of going past one,
considering how sensitive my clit got post-orgasm, but if tonight
was a night to give something new a try, I would be fine with that.
I’d never had more than one orgasm during sex before, so I’d
thought I was done after the oral.

When the vibration hit me, my whole body
bucked. The pressure from his cock against my g-spot was perfect. I
writhed as he kept up those slow, heavenly strokes. When I came, it
was with a loud, “Oh, fuck!” and cramps that shot through my calves
from my muscles straining so hard.

He wrapped one arm around my back,
half-lifting me, and groaned, “Remember, you’re not stopping.”

I can’t imagine that the sounds I made were
that sexy, with all the gurgling and squeaking coming out of my
throat, but I kept the vibrator right where he wanted it, hanging
helpless against his arm like a rag doll. My orgasm stretched right
into another, and I made a strangled moan of disbelief as I pulsed
around him.

“Do you like it from behind?” he asked,
picking up the pace slightly.

At the moment, I liked
everything
.
“Yeah,” I panted, scrambling to my hands and knees. He was inside
me again so fast I gasped in surprise.

He stopped immediately. “I didn’t hurt you,
did I?”

“No, keep going.” I rocked on my knees
impatiently.

After a few deep thrusts, he groaned, “I’m
not going to last much longer. Do you still have that
vibrator?”

I heard it buzzing somewhere in the depths of
the comforter and felt around for it. I tried to maneuver it into
position, but it was awkward, bracing my weigh on one hand. He took
the smooth egg and reached beneath us to press it against me.