“So good,” he moans. “You feel so good. God, I love fucking you. Your body just begs to be fucked.”
It’s not long before I’m practically eating the bed sheet trying to contain myself and the words that want to fall out of my mouth. There are too many emotions and feelings competing for the space inside me.
Something has to give.
So I do.
It sneaks up on me like a rogue wave and immediately pulls me under. I’m tumbling, dizzy, as my body quakes and tremors and my world goes around in a whirl of release. I am loose, I am undone, I am free. And Linden is grunting out my name, his fingers gripping me hard, like he really can’t let go.
“So fucking good,” he hisses from above me and then he lets out a sharp cry as his pace quickens. I can feel his body shudder against mine as he comes, the quick, heavy inhales, the drops of sweat as they fall off him and onto my back. “Fuck baby, fuck, fuck, fuck.” Each word that shoots out of his mouth is punctuated by deep, strong thrusts until he begins to fade inside me.
I’m still swirling, swimming, drowning from the deepest fucking orgasm I’ve ever had as he slowly pulls himself out of me and collapses on the bed. He drapes one arm across my chest, his face buried into the crook of my neck, breathing hard. It’s so safe, so intimate.
As the desire and lust begin to melt away with the rest of my bones, another surge is building up inside me.
This was so good.
Too good.
My Linden.
This was with my Linden.
I don’t think I will ever be the same.
No. I know I won’t be. I can’t be, not after this.
There is no going back.
And then I’m hit with a sledgehammer made of heart and truth that feels like its blowing me to smithereens. I don’t want to ever be with anyone else. I can’t be with anyone else. I want Linden and I want him forever. Tears spring to my eyes as I clamp them shut and think, You’re it, you’re it, you’re it. All this time you’ve been it.
I’m not sure if he’s thinking the same thing, because he’s gently brushing the hair off my face and kissing my forehead, between my brows, the tip of my nose, my lips, my chin. He says, his voice low and rough, “Nine years. I’ve been waiting nine years for this. Nine years to finally have you the way I’ve always needed you.”
I blink my eyes open and stare up at him. His look is so intense, so sincere that I feel like I’m sinking further into the mattress, like I’m boneless and stupefied. I can’t believe this. I can’t believe he’s lying here with me naked, that my body still throbs from where his cock was inside me, that he’s telling me things I’ve only dreamed of hearing.
“And now that I’ve had you,” he says softly, his fingertip wiping away a tear that I didn’t know had escaped, “I want nothing else.”
I try to swallow the lump in my throat but I can’t.
“I don’t want anything else either,” I say but the words sound choked.
He gives me a tender smile and kisses my forehead. “My baby blue.”
“My cowboy.”
“I think we’re going to have a lot of fun together.”
He’s right. I know we will.
But as I drift off to sleep, naked and in his arms, I’m aware of how quickly things have changed. A week ago we were friends. Now we are lovers.
It feels perfect. Almost too good to be true.
And because of that, I’m afraid it might be.
I’m afraid this won’t come easily to us.
I’m afraid.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
LINDEN
When I wake up, I can’t fucking believe my eyes. In fact, I’m tempted to pinch myself to make sure I’m still not dreaming. Because, hell, if that was a dream, it was the best one I’ve ever had.
But it’s not a dream. Beside me, in my bed of messy sheets and covers, there is a gorgeous, perfect woman lying on her side, her back to me. The lines of her sides where her waist dips down and her hips rise up should be on a classic portrait. But none of those birds have an ass like she does. No one else has anything that she has.
That’s why she is who she is.
Fuck me. I can’t fucking believe I slept with her last night.
Stephanie Fucking Robson.
I grin to myself. I can’t help it. I almost start laughing, just because I am so god damn lucky and that hasn’t escaped me at all. No, with her perfect, lush, curvy body in my bed, I am just showered with luck, slapped in the face with it.
And it was better than I had imagined. All those years jacking off to her, fucking other girls while thinking of her, all those actual dreams I had – none of them compare to what it was really like. Her taste, the way she felt when I was deep inside her, her eyes and how they glowed like a summer’s morning after she came. No fantasy can ever compare to what Stephanie is really like.
“Are you staring at my ass?” she mumbles without moving and I jolt a little at the sound of her voice.
“Er, yes,” I admit. “But if you could see your own ass, you’d stare too.”
She slowly rolls over and blinks at me and the sunshine streaming through the windows. Yes, it’s one hell of a beautiful morning, even the finicky SF weather agrees. “Hi,” she says sleepily.
“Hi,” I say right back, grinning like an idiot. I move closer to her so I’m flush against her side and my morning wood does a good job of making itself known against her hip.
“What time is it?” she asks.
“It doesn’t matter,” I tell her, not wanting her to have any excuse to leave this bed. “It’s Sunday and you’re at my place, which means we don’t do anything except eat and screw.”
She raises a perfectly shaped brow. God, she’s stunning even with half her makeup all smeared off her face. “Is that so? I’m not sure I signed up for that.”
“Yes you did,” I say, kissing her shoulder. “When you fucked me last night, you signed up for a lot of things.”
“I don’t recall a contract.”
“No but you did say I was your sex god and you would do absolutely anything for me. And I do mean anything.” I waggle my brows at her.
She lets out a small laugh. “I definitely don’t remember that.”
“Hmmm,” I muse. “Well, maybe I just knew you were thinking it.” I press myself against her, harder. “You know I know you pretty well.”
A shy look comes across her eyes and she looks away. Maybe I’m coming on too strong now.
I reach over and tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “How are you doing?”
She seems to think about that for a moment and stares up at the ceiling. “I don’t know.”
And that’s a sentence that sends an icy fist into my chest. “You don’t know,” I repeat.
She shoots me an apologetic look. “I mean…I’m happy. I am. Really. I’m just stunned, I think. It happened so fast and…I don’t really have experience in this.”
“Sleeping with men?”
“Sleeping with my friends. My best friend.”
I know what she means but for me it’s not so complicated. Last night, we did what I always thought we were meant to do. It just took us a hell of a long time to get there.
But with nine years of blue balls, I was sure as hell going to enjoy the payoff.
“Well, I’m still your friend,” I tell her. “That hasn’t changed. This is just an extra dimension.”
“So we’re friends with benefits now?”
I shrug, though I was hoping for more than that. “Sure. If that works for you. I got to tell ya, those benefits are a game changer.”
“It’s going to get messy,” she says, her forehead creased and now I see what she’s really worried about. Actually, it’s the exact same thing that I am.
She’s thinking about James.
“It probably will,” I tell her slowly, tugging on a strand of hair. “But that’s the same with any relationship, right?”
“And James?”
I sigh. “Well, James might be an issue.” And I’m wondering if she suspects the same thing that I sometimes do, that he’s still in love with her. “Why do you think he will be?”
“I don’t think he’ll be an issue, per se. But I just don’t know if I want to jump right up and tell him what’s going on. He can be a bit…weird about things. Like, he’ll feel left out or something. I know he gets kind of cagey when we hang out sometimes, just the two of us.”
My heart thumps in my chest like slow footsteps. “Does he?”
She nods. “Yeah. But he’s got his own issues, you know? I mean, we both love him, don’t get me wrong. He’s James. But…I don’t know. He’s just a bit sensitive and I think if we were all suddenly lovey dovey or fucky wucky in front of him –”
“Fucky wucky?”
She ignores me. “If we acted different in front of him, if we changed the dynamic of our friendship, the three of us…”
“But he knows about the pact we made. This wouldn’t be much different.”
“I know but he thinks the pact was bullshit. Just something you made up for fun.”
I frown. “Is that what you thought?”
She purses her lips sheepishly. “Maybe. But it wasn’t, was it?”
I shake my head. “No. It really wasn’t. I meant it.”
“And do you still?”
I nod. “Yes. But now we’re just easing into it, aren’t we?”
“And this is where it will get messy.”
She’s right but I don’t want to deal with any of that, not right now. I just want to enjoy her like this, just like this, and not have to worry about the bigger picture or ruining friendships. Maybe we just need time.
“How about we just keep it a secret,” I suggest. “Like I said last night. Just be mindful, you know? Around others and especially around James. Let’s just enjoy this, us, and concentrate on all the hot sex we’re going to be having instead of whether James is going to feel like a third wheel. He has Penny anyway and what we do here in private isn’t really any concern of his.”
She seems open to that. Her eyes shine brighter. “And then what happens?”
I trail my fingers from the soft spot on her clavicle, all the way between her breasts where I slide them underneath her curves. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I’m sure it will happen sooner or later. But until then, it’s just you and it’s just me. I know you, Steph, better than you think I do. But I still don’t know everything.” I let my fingers coast down the middle of her stomach and through the short patch of a landing strip where I pause. “I want to know what turns you on. And what doesn’t. And all the secret things you’ve never dreamed of telling me about. I want to know you on this level. I want in deep.”
With that, I reach down and slide my fingers through her folds. She’s already wet. This suits my morning wood just fine. I grin at her. “Do you want me in deep?”
She grins right back at me. “What did I tell you about not being cheesy?”
I look up, pretending to think about it. “Something about you liking it?”
She bites her lip and I take that as I sign that she wants me to bite it too. I roll on top of her, loving this view of her underneath.
She runs her hands up along my sides, over my arms and then down my back. She pauses just before my ass and presses. “Wow, you have quite the dimples back here.”
“Impressed?”
“Very! Back dimples are kind of my thing.”
“You’re kind of my thing,” I immediately blurt out. Smooth, Linden. Man, since when have I turned into a pubescent boy?
“Kind of?”
I start kissing her neck, enjoying the taste of her skin, her natural sweet, musky smell. “You’re my thing. Period.”
I move back on the bed, taking my lips from her collarbone all the way down the middle of her body. She squirms underneath me in anticipation, just as my mouth waters for her. I had only a taste last night but I immediately craved more, her juicy lips on mine.
I lick a line down each hipbone and then bury my face between her legs. Her musky smell makes my dick twitch, wanting so desperately to be inside of her but first I indulge my tongue.
She tastes so unbelievably good. I’ve never been a man to shy away from eating pussy but there’s something about Stephanie that makes her a cut above. Her taste is addictive, like sweet salt, and I groan into her as my tongue swirls around her clit before pushing inside of her.
She’s growing wetter by the second, her hands are in my hair, holding tight, and her legs are splayed wider, wanting more. I pull back, wanting to be a tease and gently blow on her until she’s whimpering.
“Say please,” I tell her, my voice growly.
“Please,” she says and I love that there is no hesitation in her voice. I wonder what other things I could get her to say. My mind goes wild.
But first, I want to get her off, then I want to get inside her and get her off again. I attack her with my tongue, pulsing it in and out of her tightness and soon she’s coming, her thighs wrapped on either side of my head, her skin throbbing beneath my lips.
I smile against her and look up. She’s gripping the sheets for dear life, her back arched and her perfect mouth open. My god, I want so badly to put my cock in there but I’m not one to press it. If she wants to return the favor she can.
Actually, by the way she was staring at my cock last night, I have no doubt she will.
Have I mentioned how lucky I am?
While she’s still lying back on the bed and coming down from her high with heavy breaths, I reach for the packets of condoms on the table and quickly roll one on. At some point we’ll have to get tested so we don’t have to use them anymore. I don’t mind practicing safe sex but there is no better feeling than actually shooting your load in someone and watching it drip down their legs. Messy sex is usually the best sex.
I get between her legs again, grab her thighs and pull her back toward me, keeping her legs up in the air. I position myself at her entrance, so wet and ready for me, that I can’t help but groan a little.
“I want to fuck your wet cunt so good baby.” I bite my lip and stare down at her as I push in. Her eyes widen, from surprise at my words or from my cock entering her, I don’t know. I’ll take either.
Fuck she feels good. I can’t imagine what it will be like to really feel her with my skin, inch by wet, tight, inch. Getting tested isn’t exactly sexy talk, so I save that suggestion for later.
I stare down at myself where I push into her, her legs in my hands, my ass driving me in deep. There’s never been a sexier sight for a man than this, especially when it’s Stephanie. Her full breasts sway with each movement and as I thrust faster, they begin to bounce. Her eyes shine, enraptured and maybe just a bit shy.
I love that I can do that to her.
But I love it more when she comes. The look on her face is pure starlight.
I slide my fingers down between her legs. I know I gave her a G-spot orgasm the other night and if I prop her ass up with a pillow I might be able to do it again. But my hands are skilled and her body responds well to me, like instinct, like it belongs to me. I start stroking her lightly on her dainty little clit and she’s so damn sensitive, she’s already writhing beneath me, her chest heaving, her lips parting.
I just want to be everything to her. I want to be the best and her only. I want to make her want me, crave me, yearn for me, all the fucking time. I want her to know what it’s like to want and I want to know what it’s like to be wanted by her.
We slowly build to a crescendo. Compared to last night, we take it slow, enjoying the pace, our bodies, the way each other feels. I want it to last forever and yet I want nothing more than to come inside her immediately. I want to watch her face change and for that wonderful vulnerability to take hold.
I want to be the only man who witnesses that look. I want it to be mine forever.
She comes first. It’s beautiful. Her skin, glistening from swea
t, seems to glow in front of me, her mouth open and wanting, crying out my name, my name that sounds so bloody unbelievable in such a breathy, lustful tone. She shudders from release, riding out the wave, and I’m struck by just how special she is. I think it’s going to take a long time before I finally realize just what I have and that I finally have her.
Then I come and it’s like I’m pouring myself into her, giving myself in ways I could never even begin to express. It’s both numbing and electrifying and brings the hugest grin to my face.
“What are you smiling at?” she smirks from under me.
“You,” I tell her, refusing to wipe the grin from my face. “The answer will always be you.”
She gives me a coy look and then I grab the end of the condom, making sure it doesn’t slip while I pull out. I quickly tie the end and dispose of it before climbing back into bed.
“God, I love mornings,” I tell her, pulling her toward me.
She’s so helpless and drunk from her orgasm that she’s almost mouldable. I hug her tight to me, feeling my sweat cool against her skin. Though I have all intentions of getting up and starting breakfast, the post-sex bliss is too enticing for me to move.
I’m half asleep when I feel her fingertips tracing the skin on my inner arms, going over my tattoos.
“You know,” she says quietly, “I never really did hear the story behind these quotes. Is there one? I remember one day you had no tattoos, then the next day you did.”
I smile to myself. Everyone knows I love Charles Bukowski, so no one has ever questioned the quotes I chose when I got the tattoos seven years ago. They just assumed that I really liked them.
And I do. But it’s so much more than that and Steph, of all people, seemed to pick up on it.
I read the one on my left arm. “She’s mad but she’s magic. There is no lie in her fire.” I read the right one. “The free soul is rare, but you know it when you see it.” Even though that’s all that is inked on my arm, I go on and tell her the rest of it, “Basically because you feel good, very good, when you are near or with them.”