Chapter Fourteen - Weston
“Hey,” I say, reaching for her before she gets away. “Come here.”
Victoria puts her hands up to my chest like she’s going to push me back. But when they connect with my skin, they don’t have any force to them. They rest there, flat on my pecs, fingers splayed. Her head bows like she’s embarrassed and I take that opportunity to pull her into a hug.
God, the way she smells almost drives me insane. When she doesn’t resist and places her head on my shoulder, I bury my face in her hair.
“I’ve missed this,” I say.
She sighs. I know she’s missed this too, but there are so many things between us. The sex was never the problem. It was our opinions and ideas about the future that came between us. Not to mention all her pushy questions about my past. Sometimes a guy just needs a few secrets. Why is that so hard to understand?
I’m just about to pull away, back off and give her some room, when she turns her head and kisses me on the cheek.
I turn my head too, just enough to find her lips. And then… and then… my hands have her face and my mouth has her tongue. Her hips push into mine and I walk her backwards a few steps, until she reaches the couch and has to sit.
I drop to my knees, my fingers eager to slip under the waistband of her panties. And then I am pulling them down her long—so fucking long—legs. I toss them over my shoulder as I lick my lips and stare into her eyes. She wants to close them, I can tell. She wants to close her eyes, and lean her head back, and let me lick her pussy until she comes.
But she wants to watch too. Her fingers thread through my hair, urging me to keep going. So I open her legs, lift her knees up towards her tits, and sweep my tongue up and down her pussy until she lets go of my hair and digs her fingernails into my shoulders.
“Keep going?” I ask. “Or am I smothering you with my expectations?”
“Shut up,” she says, digging her nails into my skin. “Just shut up.”
I laugh as I dip back down between her legs. “Tori,” I murmur as I kiss her wet folds.
“No talking, West. I’m serious.”
“Tori,” I say again. “Tell me you missed this or I’m going to stop.”
Her thighs squeeze together, clamping down on my face, and she bucks her hips, trying to get more friction, more tongue, more everything. “You’re not stopping. You’re just trying to be an asshole.”
“Say it,” I choke when she squeezes tighter. I lick her, flicking my tongue across her clit until her grip on my face loosens. “Say it or I’ll rub my stubble all over the inside of your thighs.”
Her foot smacks my lower back. “Why are you such a jerk? Stop talking and start licking, Mr. Conrad. Or I’m going to get up and walk away.”
“No, you won’t,” I say, reaching up with one hand to squeeze her tits as my other hand dips between her legs. I push a finger inside her, making her moan. “I know every way to make you melt, Miss Arias. So don’t challenge me during sex.”
“We’re not having sex. Because you’re still talking.”
I pinch her nipple and her whole back arches.
“Say it,” I demand, lifting my head up and withdrawing my finger. “Say it or we’ll stop.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Weston. Just shut the hell up!”
I pull back and let her legs drop.
“Don’t,” she says, pointing her finger at my face.
I smack it away. “What have I told you about that fucking finger?”
“I swear to God, West. If you started this to piss me off, I will never let you touch me again.”
“Let me?” I laugh. “Shit.”
“Yes, let you. I’m the one in control—”
She stops talking, because I’ve got my dick out and I’m thrusting it inside her before she can finish.
“Let me, Miss Arias? Say no. I dare you.” I pump her hard three times. I lift her knees back up and lean my chest down onto her full breasts and kiss her mouth.
“I will,” she whispers, her words nothing but a soft breath that passes between our lips.
“I dare you,” I whisper back. “I dare you to tell me no. Because I’ll stop. Don’t think I won’t.”
She moans as I continue to fuck her.
“Say it,” I command. “Last chance, wild thing. Last chance—”
She slaps my face, gets her foot in between herself and my chest, and kicks. I go flying back on my ass, my hands reaching out to prevent my head from hitting the hard floor, and she bolts.
I’m up, chasing her, before she even makes it to the kitchen. I grab her around her waist and lift her off her feet, planting her ass on the counter as she squeals.
She slaps my face again, but I grab both her wrists and hold them tightly together.
“Say it, Victoria. I mean it.”
“I don’t have to say it.”
“Yeah, you do.”
“I don’t have to, Weston. Because… Because…” Then she deflates and softens. Her head rests on my shoulder and she whispers, “Because you know you’re the only man I get off for.”
Oh, I’m not even going there. If I start thinking about how many men she’s fucked since we broke up, I might kill someone.
“So,” she continues, “every time you make me come I’m saying it, West. Can’t you just be happy with that?”
I let her win because that’s the kind of guy I am.
Generous. Magnanimous. Benevolent.
And I want to fuck her hard right now.
So I lift her up and carry her back to the couch, placing her in front of me the same way she was before she ran. The couch is the perfect height for me to lick her pussy. It’s the perfect height for me to ram her good while I’m on my knees. It’s the perfect mixture of soft and hard, comfortable and cramped.
Just like us.
Victoria is all feminine fluff and I am every bit the dominant male she hates.
“I have the power here,” I say, shoving my cock inside her again.
“Shut up,” she moans. Her hands grip my neck and pull me close. Her mouth finds mine and we kiss it all away.
All the hate and all the fear goes out of her in an instant.
But I won’t stop there. I like it the way I like it. And she can protest all she wants, she likes it that way too or she wouldn’t be participating. So I say, “Tell me you missed this, Victoria. Or I’ll bring you to the edge of ecstasy and leave you hanging.”
“Whatever,” she moans, bucking her back up, trying to stimulate her clit with friction against my lower stomach. “I missed you.”
I pull out and come on her stomach, laughing.
“You asshole! You better not—”
“I’m sorry,” I say, trying to stop the chuckles. “I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. But all I wanted you to say is that you missed the sex. And you said you missed me. Which is a hundred times better.”
She starts kicking again, but I grab her leg with one hand and reach for her panties with the other. I wipe them across her stomach to clean her up, then toss them aside. “Stop,” I command quietly. “I’m gonna make you come now, so stop.”