8
Cora
“Lift your hips,” he demands.
I do and he slides my lacy black panties down my thighs, over my knees, and all the way off. They land somewhere on the kitchen floor.
“Baby, you’re so wet,” he whispers.
It’s an understatement. I’m fucking dripping.
I’ve never been this worked up before.
Ian pushes my dress to my waist, and guides my knees apart. I arch my back instinctively, completely spread out for him.
He runs a finger over my swollen pussy and parts my seam, dipping one finger inside me. My breath hitches. I press my lips to his neck and moan as he adds another finger and curls them in a come hither motion, hitting just the right spot.
I drag my lips to his collar bone and trail kisses down over his chest and shoulder. He curls his fingers again. He moves so slowly it’s cruel.
I sink my teeth into his flesh in retaliation, hard enough to leave a mark.
His eyes flutter shut. “Oh, fuck,” he groans.
He groans because fucking likes that. I do it again. Bite him. Claw my nails into his skin. Egg him on.
“Fucking hell, Cora,” he gasps.
He keeps his fingers moving. It feels amazing, but I’m craving more.
“Please, Ian.”
He stares at me intently, raising his heavy eyelids as if to ask are you sure?
I nod. I’m sure. I’m really fucking sure.
He drops to his knees.
He kisses his way up my inner thigh. Closer and closer to where I need him.
Then quickly moves to the other side.
“Fuck you.” I’m so wound up, I nearly scream. “That was mean.”
I swear I hear his laugh vibrate against my skin.
A soft sound escapes my lips. As torturous as this is, it still feels fucking good.
Finally, he shows some mercy.
He dives between my legs and thrusts his tongue between my lower lips, circling my opening, lapping me up. He repeats the pattern again. And again. I feel the pressure mounting in my belly, like a knot being pulled tighter and tighter and… oh God…
He focuses on my clit, swirling his tongue around it, then sucks hard enough to make my toes curl.
My hands roam through his hair and I pull gently as I grind against his face. He moans against me.
I like that noise. I need more of it.
He teases my clit with his tongue, over and over. Soft. Then more aggressively. Then sucks the oversensitive bundle of nerves into his mouth.
Fuck, I’m close.
So close it hurts.
He pulls back to look up at me.
I can’t imagine how I must look right now. Flushed. Dazed. Crazy with lust. A hot mess.
“Fucking beautiful,” he whispers, his eyelids hooded, his mouth shiny and wet.
Then he zeroes in on my clit again.
Hard.
The tension in my body, the ache in my chest, the knot in my lower belly being pulled tight all release in one beautiful explosion and I tumble into orgasm, moaning his name over and over.
He keeps his mouth on me, his tongue gently guiding me through the aftershocks.
When I open my eyes, I see Ian standing in front of me, watching my sweat dry and my heartbeat calm. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and looks at me with a sly grin.
“Oh my God,” I pant.
Ian lifts me under my ass and I wrap my legs around his waist, kissing him hard enough to bruise his lips. He kisses me back just as ferociously, our tongues lashing, nails clawing, teeth scraping.
He tastes like me and it makes me want him more.
I feel crazy. Like I can’t hold him close enough. Can’t kiss him hard enough. I’ve had my first taste of Ian Brooks and I want more.
I fucking need it.
“Bedroom,” I demand, “Now.”
He nods, attempting to catch his breath. He carries me into the bedroom and throws me onto the king bed.
I wrestle out of my boots. He undoes my zipper and slides my dress off, tossing it to the floor. I lie, spread out, completely naked in front of him.
Ian breathes heavily as he hovers over me, looking down like he wants to devour me, but can’t decide where to start where to start.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” he tells me in a soft whisper, caressing my cheek like I’m something precious. “You have no idea…” His voice trails off.
I take his hand in mine and suck his thumb into my mouth. “No idea about what?”
“How bad… God, I fucking dreamed about this.”
I pull him down on top of me and kiss him with everything I have.
He drags his fingertips from my neck to my breasts and over my stomach. It tingles and I writhe at his touch.
He grins.
“Ticklish?” he asks.
I nod.
“They say ticklish people orgasm faster,” he informs me.
“Is that true?”
“Seemed that way.”
“Maybe I just really want you,” I whisper.
He lets out a deep, sexy groan and runs his fingers over my stomach once more. I squirm. It’s a light touch, but it’s driving me crazy.
I feel that knot being pulled again. Slower and more intensely than before. Oh, God, I’m going to come again. And he’s not even inside me yet.
He keeps going, twisting his fingers into my hair and pulling as he kisses and sucks on my skin.
Words are failing me. I slip my fingers into his belt loop and tug, hoping he’ll get the hint.
Take them off and fuck me already.
He eases back onto his knees, staying mounted over my hips. His eyes don’t leave mine as he undoes the button of his jeans. The zipper. He pulls them past his hips.
He’s not wearing boxers.
His hard dick springs forward.
“Fuck,” I blurt out.
He’s big. Bigger than I thought. And judging by the smirk on his face, this is clearly the reaction from me that he was hoping for.
He strokes himself a few times. I arch my back, enjoying the sight of him touching himself. My tongue passes over my parted lips. Before he kicks his jeans off and tosses them to the floor, he digs a condom from his back pocket, tears the foil package with his teeth and rolls it on.
He straddles my hips. He guides the tip of his cock to my entrance and inches his way inside inside.
I whimper, my pussy strained, never having taken someone so thick before. It hurts for a second, but as he sinks deeper inside of me, the pain subsides and all I feel is pleasure.
Fullness.
Ian inside of me.
His lips on my neck.
His hands roaming over me, wherever they please.
It feels incredible.
He pulls out and rocks back in again, this time pushing his entire length inside of me, grinding his pubic bone right into my clit. I moan in his ear.
Fucking perfect.
He thrusts again. And again. I rock my hips to match his movements.
Beads of sweat form at his brow as he thrusts into me hard, but controlled.
My legs begin to shake, my head rolls back, my body completely at his mercy. The closer I get to orgasm, the only word I can make out is his name.
I gasp and cry out loudly as I come, Ian still barreling into me.
Seconds later, he’s there too. I feel his cock pulse and I tighten my muscles around him.
“Fuck, Cora,” he groans.
He buries his face in my neck as he floods the condom.
He lingers for a few minutes, going soft inside of me, his body slack on top of mine, his hot breath warming on my shoulder.
I cup his face and draw him into a sweaty kiss.
Finally, he pulls out of me and leaves to take care of the condom.
“Don’t move,” he warns, playfully.
I couldn’t if I wanted to. So I just lie there, my limbs feeling like jelly, completely sated.
As Ian takes his turn cleaning up in the bathroom, I curl to one side of the bed, bracing myself for the million dollar question: Am I staying the night?
I think I want to.
But does he want me to?
I decide to err on the side of caution and get up to look for my clothes. I mean, I’ll have to do that at some point anyway. I tread back into the kitchen and find my soaked panties on the floor. Definitely can’t wear these. I head back into the bedroom for my dress only to find Ian leaning against the door jamb, still completely fucking naked.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
God, he’s…ugh. All inked and muscled and… holy hell I can’t think when he’s naked.
“I can lend you something to sleep in if you want,” he offers.
He’s asking me to stay.
“Um… no,” I reply, “That’s okay. This is fine.”
“Come on,” he says, his voice all sexy and sleepy.
Ian lies down on the massive bed and pulls me under the covers with him. His chest against my back, he wraps his arms around me. I feel his heart beat. I feel his chest rise and fall with his breath as he mumbles a good night and it’s so soothing. I shift so that I’m facing him. His eyes are closed and his body is completely relaxed.
As tired as I am, I can’t stop staring at him.
I can’t say that he looks innocent. Not after all that. But there’s still a hint of boyish-ness in his face. Like somewhere still in there is the nerdy freshman who loved wacky cartoons and marching band and got a crazy crush on the first girl that ever talked to him.
I curl into his chest and fall asleep.