Chapter Four
Elena hadn’t intended to have sex with Daniel when she came over to his apartment today, but once he had her pinned on the couch, she couldn’t remember why she’d decided that sex with him was a bad idea. His kiss, the way he’d hesitated to make sure she wanted it, and how he’d taken over, holding her in place to take what he was giving, pushed all other thoughts out of her brain. All she could think about was getting him naked, feeling his skin against hers, his powerful body surrounding hers, inside hers, driving out all the sadness and guilt and every other thing that she was so tired of feeling. Maybe she could lose herself in him, let him fuck it all out of her. She hadn’t thought that would actually work, but with his hands all over her, maybe it was worth a shot.
Not wanting to wait for him, unashamed of her desire, she reached for him. Going up on her knees, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled his mouth to hers once more, running her hands over his shoulders, down his pecs and over his abs until she reached his waistband. She popped the button and yanked the zipper apart so she could reach in and grip his cock where it lay at an angle against his lower belly, trapped against him by the tight cotton of his boxer briefs. God, that cock.
She’d never thought size mattered all that much. She’d been with enough guys, and some of the bigger ones were the worst. But she’d never been with anyone as big as Daniel who also knew how to use it. Dios mío. I can’t wait to feel that again. The two times they’d gotten together, she’d been deliciously sore for days after, with the second time riding so close on the heels of the first that she hadn’t fully recovered. She hadn’t cared, though. The way he’d taken care of her, leaving her boneless and sated with multiple orgasms, getting her brain to shut off and focus only on what he made her feel. That never happened. Ever. She’d welcomed him the next day with as much enthusiasm, despite the lingering tenderness, eager to feel that good again.
Why hadn’t she thought of it before now? This was exactly what she needed. Someone to make her forget, make her not feel anything but this. She didn’t have the luxury of shutting down with alcohol, needing to be able to function, drive, work, go to classes. And alcohol just made her maudlin and weepy anyway. She wanted to not feel. Or have her feelings so overwhelmed with one thing that the others fell away, disregarded.
And like that, with her hand stroking his beautiful cock, Daniel took over, wrapping her ponytail around his fist, pulling her head back, holding her in place while he kissed, nipped, and sucked his way down her neck, over her collarbone, until he reached her breasts again. He pulled her hand out of his pants, laying her back, pinning her hand behind her, arching her back to present her breasts to him even better. He sucked hard at each nipple, rolling over them with his tongue, pressing his teeth against them until she gasped, the tiny bite of pain zinging straight to her clit.
As he worked his way down her torso, he released her hair and her hand, letting her lay back, the fabric of the couch rough against her skin. He made quick work of her shorts, undoing them and hooking his fingers in the waist, yanking them off along with her thong in one swift motion. And then he spread her legs, his large hands holding her thighs up and back toward her chest as he left love bites on the tender skin there before kissing his way to her center where he flattened his tongue, licking her softly, his signature contrast of rough and gentle. He draped her legs over his shoulders, his hands going under her ass to hold her up for him to feast on, fucking her with his tongue first, then gliding up to run his tongue over her clit before sucking hard. Letting up before she came too fast, he lowered her back to the couch, lifting his head to give her a wicked grin, his face glistening with her juices. One finger slid inside her, finding her G-spot with ease, and she closed her eyes at the sensation, her hips bucking enough that he held her down with his other hand. A second finger joined the first, stretching her.
“How long has it been for you?”
His breath blew warm across her skin with the question, and she opened her eyes to look at him. “Not since Westport. Not since you.”
“Good.” That wicked grin came back, a satisfied tone in his voice that sounded like possessiveness, but she pushed that thought aside. She wasn’t here for a relationship, just a great fuck to push everything else away. He moved his fingers, spreading them apart to open her further, his tongue finding her clit again, getting her ready to take him. With his lips wrapped around her clit, he pumped his fingers into her harder, tapping her G-spot each time, ramping up the intensity so far that she thought she would explode, all her attention focused on the coiling tension in her lower belly and spreading through the rest of her body. And then it happened, the tension breaking, and she shattered into a million pieces, a sound wrenched from her that was half gasp, half shout.
He pumped his fingers in and out a few more times, making her twitch and shudder, unable to control her limbs. Withdrawing his hand, he stood, his eyes burning into hers as he pulled a condom out of his wallet before pushing down his shorts and rolling it on. All that long, lean muscle, that hard, gorgeous cock, all for her. She ran a hand over his thigh, relishing in the feel of the wiry hair, silky skin, and hard muscle. He caught her hand, pulling it up to his mouth and placing a kiss on the palm. Climbing back onto the couch, his knees pushed her thighs apart to make enough room for him. In response she hooked one leg over his hip, her other trapped between him and the back of the couch.
His eyes zeroed in on her pussy as he ran the head of his cock all over her, and she twitched when he teased her clit, still super sensitive from her recent orgasm. He glanced up at her, his lips curved in a smile at her reaction as he teased himself into her entrance, barely dipping in and out a few times until she wiggled her hips in an attempt to drive him in deeper.
He chuckled. “Ready?”
“God, por favor, yes.”
Before she got the last word out, he’d braced one hand on the arm of the couch behind her head and pushed in a few inches. Withdrawing slightly, he pressed forward again. On the next thrust, Elena raised her hips to meet his, forcing him all the way in faster than he’d intended, savoring the intense feel of him filling her, though he’d done a good job getting her ready for him. His eyes widened, the whites visible all the way around the deep chocolate color of his irises.
She smiled, her hands running over the hard ridges of muscle wrapped around his torso, sliding along the columns on either side of his spine and down to his firm ass, grabbing two handfuls and pressing him against her. He held still, staring down into her eyes as she ground her pelvis up against his, moving back an inch or so before repeating the action.
He let out a low groan, shifting so that he came down more on top of her, her breasts rubbing against his chest as his forearms came under her shoulders, holding her to him with his cheek against hers. “Sweet Jesus, you’re so fucking sexy. You’re killing me.”
She pressed her hips up again, but this time had less room to move, his adjustment pressing her further into the couch. “Daniel, I need you to fuck me.”
Another low groan came out of him, and he nuzzled her ear. “In a minute.” He took a shuddering breath. “I need a minute or this is going to be over way too fast for either of us.”
She kept up her slow pace of pressing her hips up against his, wanting to feel that delicious friction, not wanting to wait even the minute he said he needed. She needed him, needed this, now. Needed this to go on for as long as possible, but without pauses. Pauses allowed her brain to turn back on. And being cradled against him like this felt more intimate than what she’d expected. She didn’t want intimacy. She wanted hard, impersonal fucking.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of her little shifts and squeezes, he withdrew, slamming into her again with enough force to drive the breath out of her. “Yes. Yes. Like that.”
He did it again. And again. Slowly picking up the pace, lifting his head to look down at her. One hand went to her hips, holding her still, forcing her to take everything he gave her, but his eyes locked on hers was too much. Arching against him, she let her head turn to the side, her eyes falling closed, focusing more on the feelings coursing through her body, emptying herself of all the cares and fears and things she didn’t want to feel anymore, each thrust pushing them further away.
She wrapped her legs around him, and he held her, pounding into her, a little upward tilt on the end of each thrust, one hand supporting her ass, the other spread across her pelvis, his thumb dipping between them. Rubbing as he pulled back and grinding into her clit on the down stroke. The angle of her body combined with the friction from his thumb and the complete overwhelm of her senses, and she came again, shuddering and thrashing. His hands held her lower body steady, allowing him to keep going, forcing her orgasm to continue long after it normally would’ve stopped.
At that point he lost all finesse, hammering his hips into hers, and she opened her eyes to watch him, his focus now on the point where their bodies joined. Soon his face crumpled in concentration, eyes closed, and he pulled her hard against him as he thrust into her, holding her in place before repeating the motion again and once more, his body shuddering with his orgasm and his fingers digging hard into her skin. He slumped back on his heels, his muscles now slack, his chest heaving like he’d just run a marathon.
His eyes opened slowly, connecting with hers. She smiled at him, and a matching smile spread across his face as well. He kissed her again, still tasting of her.
When he got up to deal with the condom, she sat up and pulled on her panties and shorts followed by her bra. She was reaching for her shirt when his voice stopped her.
“Leaving already?”
She looked up to find him with his arms crossed, leaning against the doorway of what she assumed must be his bedroom, unconcerned with his nakedness or the fading erection framed by the cut V of his hips.
Pulling the tank top over her head, she stood, a twinge of guilt pulling at her. But she nodded. “Yeah. You said you had a party tonight, so I don’t want to make you miss it.”
“You could come too.” His steady gaze didn’t let on if he was inviting her just to be polite or because he really wanted her to come.
It didn’t matter. She didn’t want to go to a party. “No.” That did provoke a reaction, a flicker of disappointment that he quickly masked. Interesting. “Hannah moved us over the summer, and all my stuff is still in boxes. I need to get unpacked and organized before classes start next week. I have no idea where anything is.”
He nodded, a half smile coming to his face. “I understand. Next time, maybe.”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
With two long strides, he crossed the small living room and pulled his shorts on, not bothering with underwear. She picked up her purse and moved to the door while he did that. Once he was zipped and buttoned again, he came over to her, ran a hand down her arm, and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “Call me if you need to talk or want to play video games to get your mind off things again. Okay?”
She gave him a smile that she didn’t really feel. Now that she was leaving, all the crap was rushing back in. The respite all too short. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”
He opened the door, and she gave a little wave as she stepped out, aware that he watched her walk down the steps to her car. But when she glanced back at his door before climbing in, it was closed.