Chapter 11
His Name On Her Lips
Rone
If a sexier sound in the world existed, sexier than his name on Heather’s lips, the sound of her little whimpers and moans and her begging him for release, he didn’t know what it was. She was so close to the edge of her own pleasure that she was blissfully unaware of what she was doing to him.
He was harder than fucking stone and if he lasted longer than five strokes by the time he got inside of her, it was going to be a miracle. Hell, if he even got inside of her, it would be a damn miracle. Although, even if he came, if he came a thousand fucking times, he knew he’d still be achingly hard. He didn’t have to worry about that at least.
He wasn’t sure of anything at all except that he couldn’t wait to have her. He all but tore her red panties off. He wasn’t gentle, but judging by Heather’s throaty means, she didn’t want him to be. He knew he could make her come if he paid even the smallest attention to her clit so he stayed away from it. He loved the taste of her, her sensual heat, how wet she was. He loved the way she bucked beneath him, silently pleading for release.
“Rone!” Heather moaned. “I need you to stop that and… and…”
“And what?” He asked wickedly, raising his head. His eyes, normally so pale and otherworldly, glowed a vibrant gray, almost blue.
“I need you to stop torturing me.”
“So tell me then, in your fantasy, what is the alternative? What do you imagine that I do to you after I do this?” He ran his tongue over her, licking her from her entrance right up to her clit. He gave the hard little bud a flick with his tongue at the end. Heather squirmed beneath him, the sounds torn from her throat breathy and wild.
“Ugh… there are- I mean- you-”
“Better tell me soon or I’m going to keep doing this.” He gave her another long, leisurely sweep of his tongue and her hips bucked up into his face. She was so swollen, utterly perfect, delicious. She made his head spin. In truth, he wasn’t sure that he could keep torturing himself.
“It wasn’t just one fantasy,” Heather panted. “I’ve imagined everything.”
She’s going to straight up fucking kill me here. Rone ground his teeth together, trying desperately to keep his shit together. What he wanted was to get on top of her and fuck her senseless. Which would have probably satisfied them both, but the romance, that would definitely be lacking.
“So what would you like me to do?”
“God, I don’t know, just get on top of me.”
Rone sighed. “You disappoint me. So very vanilla.”
“Alright, I’ll get on top of you,” Heather said roughly. She shoved him aside, already squirming out from beneath him before he could even register that she’d moved at all. “And if you say anything about that being vanilla I’ll-”
Rone chuckled. He watched Heather move, completely naked, utterly glorious, her sensual curves bathed in the golden glow of late evening sunshine. “No, I think that is a perfectly satisfying fantasy.” He couldn’t tell her how many times he’d imagined her like this, her goddess body riding him, moving, shifting and curling as she was the one in control.
He rolled off the bed, ripped off his jeans and boxers in one shot and repositioned himself. Heather stayed kneeling on the other side of the bed. She watched him, eyes widening as he laid out. He could have closed his eyes and let her take it all in, everything she’d never seen before, everything she imagined, but he couldn’t do it. He had to watch her, watch that hot gaze and those wondrous eyes sweep over him. He liked the color that rose sharply in her cheekbones, the very unfeminine blush that turned her cheeks scarlet.
“Is this as good as your fantasy or not as good?”
“Shut up.”
“It’s an innocent question.”
“I’ll show you innocent…” Heather moved swiftly. She topped just shy of their bodies touching. Apparently she’d figured out fast that two could play at the torture game. She wrapped her petite hand around his shaft and squeezed hard. His body jerked in response and an outright moan was torn from his throat.
Heather smiled back at him wickedly. She gently ran her hand down the length of his cock, stopping at the base then massaging back upwards. Her fingers played over the tip, smearing droplets of arousal over him. She kept going, kept teasing him, until her hand was soaked and he was so damn hard he thought he was going to burst. Still she didn’t stop. Her hand circled the tip, lightly, closed into a fist and gripped him hard as she ran back down to the shaft.
“If you keep that up, you’re going to have a mess on your hands. Literally.” He leveled her with a direct gaze. Her confident, sensual smile faltered just a little.
“I don’t mind.”
“You’re killing me here. I guess I deserve it, a little.”
She blinked. “I guess we should talk about whether or not you want to wear protection. I’m- on the pill. I promise. And I haven’t been with anyone… in over a year.” Heather’s face turned scarlet and she dropped her gaze as she pulled her hand away.
He missed her torturous touch almost instantly. There it was, the discussion that wasn’t a part of anyone’s fantasy. It was real. All of this was real. Real. Damn. Life.
“Hey…” Rone sat up. He reached out and tilted Heather’s chin upwards. “Don’t be embarrassed. It’s been even longer for me. I... no one was you. Ever. It just got to the point where I didn’t want it if it couldn’t be you. With you. So I don’t think we have to worry about the condom, unless you want to be extra safe.”
“I trust you,” Heather whispered. “I’ve been on the pill for years so I don’t think there’s a chance that it could- not work or anything.”
He nodded slowly. She looked away uncertainty, her cheeks still stained a brilliant red. He gently turned her face back to him. “Then, before I die here and wither away from anticipation, I would like to be inside of you.”
A small smile played over the most perfectly shaped lips he’d ever seen. “Lay back then. I wouldn’t want you to die on me just when we’re getting to the good part.”
“I would hope it was all good,” he protested.
Heather put her palm flat on his chest and pushed him back. One dark brow arched. “Maybe it was, but this is going to be even better.”
He had no argument there. His entire world narrowed to Heather as she climbed over him. She was small and he was a giant, but she had no problem straddling his waist. The ache inside him grew to nearly unbearable proportions. She gripped his cock and guided him to her as she sunk down. The heat of her thighs hit him like he’d been plunged into icy water. He shivered violently as she slid over him. When he knew he was at her entrance he closed his eyes. She was so tight. So damn tight he felt like he would never fit.
She made a noise, a heady noise of pleasure, as he slowly entered her. She sunk down, taking him inch by inch, filling herself. Her body was amazing, better than any damn fantasy he’d ever been able to muster up. She was so warm and as her inner muscles closed around him, squeezing him tight, he knew he was going to die. Maybe he already had.
Heather took all of him. She waited, for a second, before she started to rock. She used every inch of her body, rocking and gyrating. The flames she set loose inside of him roared through him, over him, eating up every single inch of his skin.
“Rone,” she whispered hoarsely. The sound echoed through the room.
He let her set the pace. She was doing just fine, grinding away on him. He finally opened his eyes and took in the sight before him. She had her eyes closed, her head tipped back, her mouth slightly parted. One hand was at her throat. Her hair spilled down her back in a glorious fall of raven black. Her breasts were thrust outwards, the nipples dark little peaks. The muscles in her abdomen shifted and rippled under the skin as she swayed. Her hips ground and lifted, ground down again. She swayed to the unheard rhythm of her own internal music, and god, it was sexy as hell. She was a vision, that too so much better than anything he could ever have dreamed up.
Her eyelids fluttered as a whisper of sound escaped her parted lips. He slammed his own eyes closed and a second later, her hands hit his chest. She shifted her position, riding him harder, speeding up the rhythm. He couldn’t help himself. His hands reached for her hips and wrapped around. His fingers dug half into her hips, half into her bottom, as he helped her set a rhythm. He thrust harder himself, filling her up, hitting every angle.
“Fuck,” he ground out, because it was all he could say.
“I love the way you fill me up,” Heather whispered near his ear.
He needed her to hurry up and come, because he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. Even though he’d probably still be hard as hell, he knew it would surprise her if he finished first. Not that he was really going to be finished finished. He could go all damn night. He just wanted her to be first.
Above him, she worked him hard. Her hips created a rhythm that sent a wicked burn throughout his entire body. His blood soared and his head felt like it was going to float away. His damn groin was so tight and painful it was a miracle he was even holding on. He guided her all the way, rocked her hard, thrust deep inside of her over and over until finally she cried out.
She whispered his name, her breath right by his ear. He just made out the syllables between the cloudy haze in his head. Her inner muscles clenched around him, rippling with every single breathy cry and spasm that shook Heather’s body.
He couldn’t help it, he lost himself completely. He bucked hard, grinding her against his cock, thrusting with abandon until finally, with one final thrust he went deep inside of her and filled her with hot jets. He felt like he was going to come forever before he was finally spent. He groaned and sweated through it and when he was done, his entire body felt rung out.
It was another minute before he could open his eyes. Heather stared down at him, her own gaze soft and warm. She bent and gently brushed her lips over his. When she pulled away, she smiled gently.
“Well, was that as good as you imagined?” He had to ask the question.
“What do you think?”
“I think, that hopefully it was.”
She laughed softly. She was so beautiful, eyes sparkling with life, a delicate blush of pleasure on her skin, that she stole his breath. “It was better,” she admitted shyly. “What about yours?”
“Generally, in my fantasy, we just lay together fully clothed and enjoy the moment.” Heather snorted. She swatted at him, hitting him in the shoulder. “What?” He protested helplessly. “I was going to continue and say that I then would rip off your clothes and have you in a hundred different ways.”
“Is that even possible? A hundred?”
“I guess we’ll have to find out.” He grinned at her. “Now that I’ve shared with you, what happens next in your fantasies?”
“Whatever you want, Rone. I just know that I’m not letting you go. For tonight, at least, you’re mine.”
“Sounds like the perfect fantasy,” he whispered thickly before he reached up and brought her face down to his so that he could kiss her breathless once more.