Chapter Twenty
PAXTON
*
"Bedroom?" Alex gasped out, his eyes burning with nearly enough intensity to scorch my clothes right off my body.
"Over there," I managed to respond, nodding my head towards the entrance. Hell, I was surprised that my clothes hadn't already spontaneously burst into flames by now! My entire body seemed to throb in time with my heartbeat, pulsing in Alex's arms. I needed him, needed to feel his touch on my bare skin, needed to get out of all these constricting garments that prevented me from being free.
I tore at my shirt, and Alex helped me. Even as we stumbled together towards the bedroom, moving in zigzag lines like we were both drunk, we left a trail of discarded clothes behind us. I clawed at his shirt, accidentally tearing off a couple of the fine little buttons on its front as I pulled it from his shoulders.
"Sorry," I groaned, wincing as I saw one of the buttons go flying off to vanish into the corners of my apartment.
He didn't even pause. "I've got more." He tugged the shirt the rest of the way off, and I lost my voice at the sight of his broad shoulders, the muscles sloping up gently to his neck, rippling under his bronzed skin. He looked like a damn Greek God, a statue come to life and showing off perfect, flawless anatomy!
How was I supposed to compete with that? I looked down at my breasts, annoyingly big and in the way, well aware of the rolls and imperfections on my own skin. Next to Alex, I felt like a blob of half-formed clay. There's no way he'd find me as attractive as I found him.
But then, Alex Hamilton turned his attention to me – his full attention – and all those intrusive, insulting thoughts went silent under his physical onslaught.
He swept me off my feet, scooping me up with one big hand grabbing my ass and hauling me up so that he could carry me. His lips met mine, parted mine so that his tongue could deeply taste me. His other hand ran down my back, leaving a tingling trail as his nails traced over my shoulder blades, down to find the clasp at the back of my bra.
He broke the kiss for a moment, just long enough to draw in a breath of fresh air – and then grinned at me as his fingers effortlessly undid the clasp of my bra.
"I bet they're going to be magnificent," he whispered to me – and then, without warning, he threw me backwards in the air, off his body and into nothingness!
I screamed in shock and horror. What was he doing!? But even as the shriek came out my lips, I landed – not on something hard that would hurt me, but on a flat, soft surface. It wasn't until my head hit the pillows that I realized what Alex had done. Carrying me into my bedroom, he'd tossed me right onto my bed!
I'd landed spread-eagled, arms and legs sticking out like a starfish. With my bra gone, I was naked to the waist, my breasts on full display. Momentarily frozen, I looked up at Alex as he stood over me, looking down.
My eyes ran to his, searching for any sign of the emotions I feared that I'd see. Disgust. Repulsion. Misgivings, any sort of second thought about moving forward with me.
I saw none of these negative emotions. His face burned with lust, desire, and something deeper that I couldn't name. His grin widened, until it seemed on the verge of splitting his face in two.
"You're beautiful," he whispered, and I felt like my heart was about to explode inside my chest.
In the rush to the bedroom, I'd popped open the buckle on Alex's belt, undid the top of his pants. He let them slide the rest of the way down, revealing a round and shapely ass and muscular thighs, coated with surprisingly fine blond hairs. He stepped out of them, dropping to his knees to join me on the bed.
I started to sit up, leaning forward to kiss him – but his fingers pressed gently on my breastbone, pushing me back down. "Just relax," he murmured, dropping lower to kiss the side of my neck, my collarbone. "Close your eyes. Feel where I'm going to go."
Obediently, I closed my eyes. I felt the warm, slightly wet touch of his lips move south, down across the expanse of one breast. They found my nipple, and I gasped as a little surge of heat shot through me from the brush of his teeth over my areola. He ran his tongue over the exposed skin as it pebbled, but didn't linger too long.
His fingers took the place of his mouth on my breast, kneading and gently squeezing. His mouth, meanwhile, kept on moving further south. I felt his kisses on my stomach, and felt my muscles involuntarily contract and tighten with nervousness as I guessed where he was heading. I hadn't shaved in at least a few days! I wasn't ready for this level of intimacy! What if he didn't like me-
"Shh," his voice drifted up. He sounded so calm and satisfied! How was he not freaking out about this? "It's okay, Paxton. It's okay."
Somehow, in a way that I wouldn't have anticipated, his voice soothed me. I took a deep breath, feeling my body shake, but I didn't pull away. I felt him settle down between my thighs, warm and comforting, kissing me gently, taking his time, not rushing me too quickly. I tried to focus on breathing, letting it happen.
And a few moments later, I'd forgotten all about my anxiety. He explored me gently, almost teasingly, lingering and tasting just long enough to make the waves of pleasure start to rise inside my head before backing off and frustratingly letting them ebb back down. I found a growl coming out of my mouth, annoyance clashing with desire at how he wasn't letting me get all the way to my finish!
Again and again, he drew me up to the brink – only to pause for just long enough for me to lose that nearly grasped orgasm! Finally, my eyes shot open, and I reached down for him, intending to demand that he keep going or I'd kill him!
At the sight of his face, however, I knew that he'd been intentionally pushing my buttons. "Ugh, Sir Asshole," I growled, even as my heart sang at the sight of his smiling face. "You're denying me my finish on purpose!"
"I'm enjoying the moment," he allowed. "You ready for the main event?"
He didn't need to nod down to his bulging boxer briefs to let me know what the main event might be. I didn't hesitate. All the nervousness, all the concern and self-doubt, had vanished from my head. My whole body rang like a bell with desire for him, and I knew that he had to be all but bursting to take me, using all his self-control to keep from leaping on me like a rutting beast.
I slid my hands down over his chest, feeling it rise and fall with each breath. I tucked my fingers into the elastic of his waistband, curled them around the thick, hefty rod that I felt inside. I loved the sudden sense of control, how he stiffened from just my touch. For all that he'd been teasing me, I knew that once I had him inside of me, I'd be the one in control, the one calling all the shots.
The prospect thrilled me, and I pulled him down towards where his oral attentions had gotten me wet and ready. "I'm ready," I whispered as I rubbed him against my entrance.
With one hand, he cast off the boxer briefs. From somewhere, he produced a condom, rolled it onto his member – and oh my, wasn't he huge! – with a single movement. He placed the head of his shaft against me, pushed.
For a second, there was pain, sharp and piercing. But it faded almost as quickly as it came, replaced by a new and wonderful sensation of fullness, of him inside of me.
"Paxton," he groaned as he settled down atop me, filling me. His lips met mine, hungrily biting and tasting as he took me, his hips rolling back and forth.
I clung to him, a sailor clinging to a life preserver in high seas. I moved with him, wordlessly cried out as he brought me over the edge, kissed him back and pulled his hands to my softness. My heart sang, and I did everything I could to please him, to show him how much he meant to me.
Finally, just as I feared that I wouldn't be able to take much longer without pleasure turning to pain, his movements quickened. I felt his breath splash more heavily against my neck, heard him groan as he lost the fluidity of motion and became more ragged. He pushed inside of me one last time, as deep as ever – and then sagged on top of me.
"Paxton," he cried out one last time as he went over the edge, and I joined him, tightening my legs around him and feeling one last orgasm wash through my mind and clear away all negative traces of emotion.
There was a little cleanup, a little awkwardness, but it passed quickly, helped away by Alex's smiles and attention. We settled down in the bed, our naked bodies reclining together, talked about nothing in particular as our hands traced patterns across each other's bare skin, committing features to memory.
Eventually, the rumbling of our stomachs grew too loud. Just as he'd promised, Alex ordered dinner. I burst out laughing when the doorbell rang and he got up to get it – still gloriously naked, not a stitch of clothing covering up his perfection! He laughed along with me when he returned, holding the pizza box and a handful of napkins.
"Don't worry, I gave him a good tip," he promised, as he dropped back on the bed beside me, opening the box and helping himself to a slice.
"I should hope so! You probably traumatized him," I said, casting a sidelong glance at his member. Even after sex, it still looked damn impressive! "You could put an eye out with that thing!"
Alex just grinned at me. "Once you finish that pizza, you should come crawl over here and sit on my lap," he murmured. "Wouldn't want you dripping sauce on your bedsheets, after all."
"Is that why? You're watching out for my laundry?" But it didn't stop me from doing as commanded, settling down on him and feeling his hands wrap around my breasts.
"You're amazing," he whispered to me, kissing the back of my neck. I waited for those intrusive voices in my head to second-guess his intentions – but incredibly, they stayed silent. I felt warm, safe, better than I could ever remember feeling before with another person. I settled back against him, my hand falling between my thighs to absent-mindedly rub him as he bumped against my bottom.
That soft rubbing soon turned into heavy petting, which became making out, which became another round of making love. At one point, a spasming kick from my leg sent the pizza box flying, and only Alex's quick reactions saved my floor from picking up a big marinara sauce stain.
"We'll need another snack after this bout," he panted, turning his attention back to my bouncing breasts as they bobbed in his face.
"Too bad we don't have any cake," I said, the end of that comment lifting up into a moan as he hit a new pleasure button, deep inside of me.
"You let me get back on top, and I can make your fridge full of any flavor cake you want."
"Deal." I rolled across the sheets, marveled at his muscles as he lifted himself up to plunge down into me. I tried to think of what flavor of cake I'd want most.
The thoughts all fell away as he brought me over the edge of the cliff, plunging down into the waters of my next orgasm. I couldn't think about anything except warmth and desire and a rush of pleasure so acute that it was nearly painful, and how much I wanted Alex to be there forever, to do this to me forever.
We had cake... eventually. We ate it together in bed, still both gloriously naked, having all kinds of fun with smearing the frosting in different places on each other. Then, after one last bout of lovemaking, Alex sighed, closed his eyes, and promptly drifted off to sleep.
I lay awake beside him for another minute or two in the darkness, looking down at his slumbering form. My heart throbbed for him, and I couldn't keep a little smile off my lips. I'd never met a man like him, never slept with a man like him.
Suddenly, my life was better than I'd ever imagined could be possible. Lying down beside him, listening to the slow, steady sound of his breathing, I felt happiness, more complete than I could ever remember feeling before now.
It was nice, and it soon lulled me off to sleep beside him.