Beth
Jesus. Fucking. Christ. After teasing me for what seemed like days, the man I’d met only a few hours ago was buried so deep inside me I was close to being split in half.
Getting kissed by Dylan had somehow neutralized my nerves about being naked, sober, with a stranger. I wanted him. Wanted to be with him. Wanted a moment of madness. For the last three years, I’d been scared to enjoy life too much in case it descended into me chasing pleasure at the expense of my sobriety. I’d held onto everything so tightly, in such a controlled way for so long, that it felt good to let go, to breathe, and give in to something that made me feel good.
After bringing me to the brink two or three times, he’d refused to let me come. I’d always thought I’d never be able to let go enough without alcohol to get me to the point I’d have an orgasm, but Dylan knew exactly what he was doing. It was as if he’d made my body his life’s work, and there was no way I was going to have a problem climaxing. Just staring at his monster cock was probably enough to send me over the edge at this point.
Finally, he was inside me, unmoving. It was only a fraction away from painful. If I’d had time to think after seeing him naked, I might have backed out. I hadn’t been sure he’d fit.
Apparently he did. Just.
“You are so tight.” His breath was heavy against my neck.
I tried to speak but just whimpered.
“You okay, Beth?” He sounded concerned. From my hazy memories of sex, my lovers had rarely been concerned with how I was feeling, with whether or not I came. Dylan’s focus was on me and us, and not just him.
I nodded. “It’s just so . . . big.”
He grunted and pushed against my hips. He couldn’t go any deeper. “I’ve never been so hard.”
His hands stroked along my back as he straightened himself behind me. I shivered as he grabbed at my hair.
“You ready?”
Before I got a chance to answer him, he pulled back slowly, then crashed into me. My hand reached for my clit. I needed to get over the edge.
“No,” he barked. “That’s for me. Your clit, your pussy, your tits. They’re all for me.” He swiped my hand away, but replaced my fingers with his. I twisted my hips against his hand. He thrust once then twice, and in the distance I felt the beginnings of my orgasm begin to gather force. Again.
My head fell forward as I concentrated on the pleasure seeping into my limbs.
Holy. Crap. I couldn’t stand any more, but I didn’t want it to be over. “I’m so close—”
“So soon?” He picked up his pace, pushing harder and deeper as I spiraled into my first sober orgasm and the most intense feeling I’d ever had. I was floating and shivering, as if my body wasn’t mine anymore. It was his.
Just before I collapsed, he pulled my limp body toward him so I was upright and kneeling on the bed as he pounded into me, as if he hadn’t noticed I’d just had the orgasm to end all orgasms. One arm clasped around my waist, the other clamped at my shoulder, held me in place.
I gasped. The change in angle was like feeling him again for the first time. I reached back to bring his head to my neck, pushing my fingers through his velvety hair.
“You thought I couldn’t make you come?” His voice was gritty. “I’m going to make you count your orgasms, because otherwise you’re gonna lose track.”
He wasn’t going to have to wait much longer for the second. I watched as he pulled and twisted at my nipple, his fingers sending sparks down my legs and out of my toes.
“You’re going to come again, do you hear me? My dick is going to explode this time when I feel those tight walls start to quiver.”
I’d never had a guy talk to me like Dylan was talking to me. It was one of those things that only happened in porn, but it seemed like the most natural thing in Dylan and it made me pant.
I bent my knees slightly, meeting his thrust.
“Oh, yes. You know what you want, don’t you? You want my dick as deep as it will go.”
And there it was again, my orgasm barreling up my spine. My body juddered, supported in Dylan’s arms, as my climax washed through me.
“Oh, yes, I feel you. So tight, Beth. So. Tight.” He jerked sharply as his orgasm followed my own as he’d promised. As he’d said, he didn’t lie.
He didn’t let go as we collapsed, spent, onto the bed.
His chest heaved behind me and my stomach flickered with the remnants of my climax.
We lay in silence as our breathing returned to normal.
“You’re astonishing,” he said as I stroked his forearms. I was pretty sure I wasn’t the only girl that had received that particular compliment.
He kissed my shoulder. It was such a sweet postcoital gesture, as if we were a long-standing couple. I sighed. I’d forgotten what this was like—what had he called it? Human connection—that was it. Or perhaps I’d never experienced it before.
It felt good to be held. It felt freeing to be fucked.
“You okay?” he asked, tightening his arms around me.
“Yeah. I’m good.”
He kissed my shoulder again and then moved away, heading to the bathroom. I should go back to my own room. Perhaps I’d take one of those plates of cake with me. I sat up, wincing slightly at the way the muscles in my thighs pulled. I was going to be sore tomorrow. I slung my legs over the side of the bed, trying to find energy from somewhere.
“Hey.” Dylan appeared from the bathroom. “A little unsteady?”
I grinned. “Ground-shaking sex will do that to a girl.”
“Ground shaking, huh?”
My cheeks heated. He must know he fucked like a champion.
“I was going for world changing. It seems I’ve got a way to go.” He headed back to the bed.
I smiled, still not able to take my eyes from his oh-so-perfect body. “Oh, I think you did just fine.”
“Fine?” He frowned but nodded. “Hmmm. ‘Fine’ isn’t a word I’m fond of. You’ll have to give me a minute or two, and I’ll see if I can notch up in your rankings.”
I laughed. “You’re a peach, but I should go.”
“I fuck ‘fine’ and I’m a ‘peach’? Are you trying to hurt my feelings?” He grinned at me. I think his ego was intact.
I crawled over and kissed him lightly on the lips. “You fuck like a machine. I had a blast. I gotta go.” I twisted and hopped off the bed.
“You have a body made for fucking,” he said, catching my fingers as I headed to collect my clothes. I turned to him.
I squeezed his hand and gazed at him. “Right back at you, Mr. 8A.”
“Then stay for a little longer.”
“Dylan, I’m going to hurt tomorrow as it is.”
Casually, he cupped one of my breasts. Immediately my nipples pebbled. “But I promise it’ll hurt so good.”
“Do you want water?” Dylan called from the kitchen.
I reached for the clock on the nightstand. “That’d be great. Thanks.”
It was 4:30AM and we were due to fly out at seven. I’d have to sleep on the plane; there hadn’t been any chance of sleeping so close to Dylan. He was insatiable and I was more than happy going along for the . . . ride.
“What are we at?” He walked back into the bedroom and handed me a glass of water.
“It’s four thirty. I need to get cleaned up.”
“I mean, how many orgasms? I told you to keep count.” He crawled across the bed, pulling the bed sheets down my body.
I slid away from him. “Four, but seriously. We need to get going. We have to check in again.” I climbed out of bed and headed to the living room. I was pretty sure that my clothes had started to come off before we hit the bedroom. The silver domes were still scattered across the dining table. What a waste. I hadn’t even seen what they were hiding. I picked up one to find a slice of strawberry gateau that looked incredible. I dipped my finger into the cream and tasted. Hmmm. I closed my eyes. Delicious.
“Your ass is the best I’ve ever laid eyes on.” Dylan’s hands were on my hips, smoothing down my ass. Every time he touched me, my skin tightened as if my body was preparing itself for another climax. But I really had to shower.
“Dylan. We have to check in.”
He ignored me. “Lean over.” He grabbed my waist with one hand, the other pushing me gently forward so I was gripping the edge of the table.
“And your pussy—it’s so fucking sweet.” Without warning, he slammed into me, forcing me farther onto the table. Vaguely, I heard a plate crash to the ground, but couldn’t concentrate on anything but Dylan fucking me as though it was the first time.
He gripped my hips, pulling me back onto him.
“You want to get all checked in? You had enough of my dick?”
“No.” I was trembling and weak from a night of monumental fucking, but I would never get enough of his dick.
I bucked away from him when he reached around and found my clit. He knew the exact pressure to use. I wasn’t sure I’d survive another orgasm. I clasped my hand over his. “Please” was all I could manage.
“This clit is mine. I told you that. I’ll do what I want with it.”
I released his hand, steadying myself on the table. He was right; he owned my body when he touched me. There was something disturbing about the power he had over it.
Despite Dylan filling me like no other man ever had, I had the urge to have him deeper. I widened my legs, hoping to get more of him.
“Oh, yes, you can’t get enough, can you?”
I shook my head. “Please.” He slammed faster and faster into me, pulling me closer and closer to him. He groaned behind me as I twisted my hips in the hope that I could give him a fraction of the pleasure he was giving me.
The skin on my arms began to burn from the friction against the table, and I found I took pleasure from it. I wanted some kind of semi-permanent reminder of the fuck of my life. I’d never see him again after tonight. I’d like something to remember him by.
“Look at me, Beth. I know you’re close and I want to see that beautiful face when you come.”
I turned to him, pushing myself up with one hand. A thin sheen of sweat covered his muscle-bound body and the veins in his neck stood out with his effort. The sight of him was the last straw, and I gave him my orgasm, one final time.
Dylan
I set the temperature of my shower to cold. I’d been looking for a new fuck, but I hadn’t expected to find the lay of the decade. We’d fucked all night and could have gone all day today if a flight to London weren’t inconveniencing us. I’d never second-guessed myself in bed before, particularly when a woman had clearly climaxed, but I hoped it had been good for Beth; as good as it had been for me. I wanted it to have been memorable for her. There was something about her that brought out a protective side in me.
I was going to have to cool down—she’d be in the seat right next to mine and I didn’t want to spend eight hours with a raging hard-on thirty thousand feet up. Just the thought of those perfect tits bouncing freely in front of me . . . Argh, I was done for. I shook my head, trying to get images of her out of my brain.
After I’d made her come five times, Beth had gone back to her room to prepare for check-in. She’d left in a rush, leaving me dazed, recovering from another explosion against her creamy skin. She’d seemed sated and I took satisfaction from that.
I showered quickly, hoping to catch up with her before we boarded. Grab her number, touch her. I’d really like to see her again, make it good for her again. If not today, then while I was in London.
Beth Harrison was everything a woman should be in bed: responsive, willing and a mesmerizing sight naked. She was also confident about her body and sassy enough to have called me a peach. She might have been a little shy at first, but any reticence had disappeared as my tongue touched her skin. I grinned and toweled off. I dressed quickly, eager to see her again.
I got to the lounge in record time and after scanning the main area and not seeing Beth, I passed the showers, heading to the table I’d found her at yesterday. I couldn’t stop the grin on my face as I rounded the corner. Our table was empty. Shit. She wasn’t here yet. I checked my watch. She was going to have to be quick; they’d start boarding first class any minute. Perhaps she’d got stuck on a call, but who would be calling her so early? Someone in London, maybe? A boyfriend? She didn’t strike me as a cheater, and she’d told me she’d never had sober sex. She didn’t seem like a liar.
I slumped in a chair and waited.
The same waitress who’d booked Beth’s hotel room approached me. “Can I get you any refreshments, sir?”
I wanted to ask her if she’d seen Beth, but knew how desperate that sounded. “No. Thank you.”
I tried to busy myself scrolling through the email on my phone, but before I knew it, we were being called for boarding. At least I’d see her on the plane. An exchange of numbers wouldn’t be so private with the cabin crew gawking at us, but it would have to do.
I strode to the gate, on the way checking travelers, scanning faces. She’d probably just wanted to take her time to get ready. Not that she needed to. She’d looked pretty close to perfect when I’d last seen her—her silky hair mussed up, her lips well kissed, but I could understand if she hadn’t wanted to travel with “I just got fucked” tattooed on her forehead. I grinned again.
I headed straight to the desk and down the ramp to the plane. I glanced down at my ticket. As I’d thought, 8A. They hadn’t changed the seating. Good. I didn’t want her far from me.
Jesus, Dylan, what are you thinking? She was a good lay. Calm down.
But I was anything but calm. I wanted to see her. I wanted to know more about her. Who might be calling her? Why was she going to London? Had she grown up in Chicago? All of a sudden, I had too many questions. Perhaps on the plane we could sit at the bar and just talk. I wanted to get to know her, which was unusual.
I turned left as I entered the plane.
“Good morning, Mr. James.”
I didn’t glance at whoever spoke. It was a man, which meant it wasn’t Beth and therefore I wasn’t interested.
There were passengers in front of me, so I craned my neck to see if she was already in her seat. The sides of each seat were too high to get a proper look. As I got closer to my seat, I saw hers. Empty. I spun to see if she was behind me.
“Champagne, sir?” A blonde flight attendant held out a glass.
I shook my head. “No. Are we all assigned to the same seats as yesterday?”
The flight attendant squinted at me. “Yes sir, you’re still in 8A.”
“And everyone else? They’re all in the same seats?”
“Umm. Yes, I think so. There may have been some changes in economy, why—”
“Okay, thanks.” I stripped off my jacket and she took it from me.
I kept one eye on the people trailing in. The cabin was pretty full already. The seat next to mine remained empty. I took out my laptop and notebook from my carry-on luggage and slid my case into the overhead compartment.
Damn. She still wasn’t here. I checked my watch. I should have taken her number before she left my hotel room. I could get them to hold the plane if she was running a little late.
I took my seat. What would I say when I saw her? I’d just keep it casual.
The slamming of doors caught my attention and the crew began to round the cabin, collecting empty glasses. Where was she?
An announcement asked for all mobile phones to be switched off. She must have had her seat reassigned.
“Excuse me.” I caught the blonde as she walked by.
She smiled. “How can I help you, sir?”
“You said the seat allocation had remained the same.” Something gnawed in my gut. “But there was a young woman sitting next to me yesterday.”
The flight attendant frowned. “Oh, yes. I think there was.”
“So, where is she?” I was impatient and it was beginning to show.
“Let me check, sir.” The blonde scurried away.
It would be inconvenient if she’d been assigned to a seat farther away. I couldn’t recall whether there was a first class section upstairs on this flight. I would be really irritated if she was there when she could be next to me. I set my phone and my laptop to flight mode. When I glanced up, the blonde was heading my way.
She leaned toward me. “Sir, she didn’t check in. She’s not flying with us today.”
What. The. Fuck?
I nodded curtly and fixed my stare on my laptop, trying to get a handle on myself.
Where was she? Had she fallen asleep? Was she embarrassed by the way I’d made her scream and decided that she couldn’t face me?
Jesus, I was furious. With myself for not having made sure I had a way of contacting Beth, and with her for not checking the fuck in. What had happened? Beth fucking Harrison had got in my head; that was what had happened. And women didn’t get in my head. Not since . . .
Well, not since a long time ago and it wasn’t supposed to happen again.