PART ONE
This is insane. Going with a stranger to a hotel room?
He’s not a stranger. We’ve had coffee together.
You stood in line behind him at Starbucks and ogled his ass!
But what an ass.
And he caught you ogling.
I know. God, that grin. That dimple!
This again? That’s why we’re here to bang a Starbucks stranger you’ve met a few times? We didn’t even see his driver’s license!
I don’t care about his driving record.
You get that you’re basically advertising that you wouldn’t mind being murdered, right?
Shut up.
Do you know how many crime drams start like this?
D’you know how many great pornos start like this?
“Enough! I can’t get into the right frame of mind with both of you yammering in my ear.”
Sorry.
Oh. Sorry. Um. Frame of mind? Easy. Just plug in the vibrator and start without him.
Yes! The vibrator! You don’t need him; we do fine on our own.
Lilith Tien, who had been fruitlessly taming her tangle in front of the bathroom mirror, had to squash the urge to hurl her brush at something. And not just to shake those two up a little. To punish the brush.
“You guys heard me shriek ‘enough’, right?”
That shut them up. Finally. Lilith closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them and...ugh. Still a nightmare on size eleven feet. Straight black hair that resisted even the slightest wave. Desperation had demanded she get it chopped to a chin-length wedge. But that showcased her premature gray hairs, as trapped by her hairbrush. Her treacherous hairbrush.
And while the cut was an improvement, there was still the matter of the rest of it: small brown eyes a little too far apart, mouth a little too wide, boobs a little too small, feet a little too gross.
See? You’re almost never this hard on yourself. You need this, we all need this!
“No.”
You know you’re perfectly pretty, you just need some—
“I’m not fucking a coffee acquaintance as a confidence booster,” she snapped. “So let’s derail that train of thought right now.
—orgasms.
“I have tons of orgasms,” she protested.
Orgasms in the presence of another person. Just to see if you like it!
Wait. That’s a good point, you’ve never been shy about plugging in Mr. Shaky—
“It’s upsetting that you’ve nicknamed my vibrator.”
—so why are we loitering in a Minneapolis Marriott hotel room to fuck a—
With perfect timing, there was a discreet rap-rap on the door. Since she’d been in the middle of reapplying make-up, she nearly coated her nose with Sonia Kashuk’s Very Berry. She dropped the balm and fixed herself with a stern glare in the mirror.
Oh, look! It’s The Look! Please, you’re not impressing anybody.
Nothing wrong with an expression that shows you mean business.
Unless it’s purely for show, which this is. You’ve still got time to call it off.
DON’T YOU DARE. Remember that ass. You deserve this! I believe in you!
“Coming!” she called.
Oh, God, I hope so.
We’d better, after all the trouble we’ve gone to. We’d better come twice. Perhaps thrice.
“Cut it out, you two,” she snarled. “I’m not kidding.”
Well, I’m not going to say anything.
Ha!
But you know I’m upset.
“Then be upset. Silently upset. Stoically upset.”
She stepped out of the bathroom, took one last glance at her outfit: knee-length black skirt, bare legs, no shoes, short-sleeved red sweater that did wonders for her complexion. She definitely had a glow. A good one, not the “I think I have a fever” kind.
Why did you spent three hundred bucks on clothes that will be on the floor in a couple of minutes?
Don’t listen, Lilith...
She snorted. “I’ve been trying to ignore you for how many decades?”
...we look terrific!
She took a last look around at the lighting scheme. Bathroom light was off. Closet light was on. Desk lamp was on. Overhead light was off. Bedside lights were out. She hoped she’d hit the middle ground between operating room bright and witching hour dark.
King-sized bed. En suite bathroom, which was just a fancy way of saying you didn’t have to hoof it down the hall to do your business. Nice big closet. Nice big television (that she hoped stayed off all evening). Functional desk. Decent view of downtown Minneapolis in the fading evening light, which would look even better at night. (Probably, she’d closed the curtains.) Neutral carpet (tan with brown specks). Functional, non-offensive, comfortable.
Are you gonna keep staring around the room?
She wrenched the door open, and her future one-night stand recoiled. She could have bitten her tongue, instantly chagrinned. “Oh! Sorry.”
“Wow.” He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Are you going to smack me? I don’t think we negotiated that.”
Oh, if only. I’d like to smack him into next week.
Will you give him a chance?
“Sorry,” she said, feeling exquisitely stupid. Two seconds in, and she’d already embarrassed herself. A new personal best. “I was just—“ Arguing with the angel on my right shoulder and the devil on my left. Nothing to see here, just typical pre-one-night stand stuff. You don’t mind if I talked to my imaginary shoulder cops while we fuck, do you? One of them is going to be relentlessly critical and the other is going to be relentlessly enthusiastic and it’s going to be exhausting. “Um.” Oh, excellent. Clumsy and inarticulate; who could resist her?
“Actually, I’m really glad to see you. Here, I mean.” He gestured to the room. “I was wondering if, uh.”
She found a smile, which was something that wasn’t at all difficult when she talked to Seth Gabriel, and was one of the reasons she’d chosen him to help break her dry spell.
“If I was going to chicken out?”
“Well.” He shrugged and it was adorable. He had a way about him that was bashful yet confident; he’d shrug and smile and then peek at her through his long eyelashes, lashes that were wasted on a man.
His dark blond hair was long (like Tom Cruise in Mission: Impossible—Ghost Protocol) but not too long (like Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible 2). His eyes were hazel, rings of light brown around pupils that faded to green, and a dimple bracketed his mouth whenever he smiled. He had a plush lower lip that she wanted to bite every time she saw him, which was not a socially acceptable way to greet someone you’d only seen at Starbucks.
They were exactly the same height, five feet ten inches, which was the first thing he’d commented on when she dropped her Green Tea Frappuccino on his feet a month ago.
Exactly! A month! You barely know him!
I can’t believe it took me a whole month to talk you into this.
He was wearing tan slacks with a black leather belt, and a crisp white button down under a dark blue blazer. Dark brown lace-up Oxfords and black vintage-style glasses with clear lenses completed the look.
She’d always been a sucker for a guy in glasses. When she was a middle schooler she’d had a crush on Clark Kent, not Superman.
“Lilith...may I come in?”
She almost groaned; she’d kept him in the hallway while she drooled over his glasses and thought about nibbling that full lower lip of his. So she overcompensated, swinging the door open so wide, the handle slammed against the closet door. They both jumped. Mercifully, the mirror (all hotel closets had mirrors for doors; it was like a state law) didn’t shatter.
“Aw, jeez.” Over. It was all over before it began, and yep, another personal best.
“Hey.” Seth had taken one of her hands in his. “It’s okay. I mean, I’m nervous, too.”
“I’m not nervous.”
Lie.
“I’m mortified,” she continued.
Truth!
He laughed, a sexy chuckle that started somewhere in the middle of his chest and rumbled up and out. He could have the body, complexion, and flexibility of a haystack and she’d still be attracted to that wonderful deep voice. “Y’know, we don’t have to—I mean, we could just hang out and watch a movie and have midnight hot fudge sundaes and take a bunch of Buzzfeed quizzes, if you want.”
Wow! Great!
Wow. Nightmare. Buzzfeed? Seriously? YOU WON’T BELIEVE WHAT THIS QUIZ SAYS ABOUT YOUR SEX LIFE! Ugh.
“Seriously?” She wasn’t looking for an out, but she was surprised he’d given her one within sixty seconds of seeing her.
On cue, the bitch on her left shoulder piped up (again): Why are you surprised? He’s obviously ready and willing to call the whole thing off. Don’t wait. Take him up on it. NOW.
Noooooooo!
“Nooooo,” she said. “I don’t want—I mean, I’m glad you’re here.” She stepped aside and gestured for him to come in, like a maître ‘d in a push-up bra showing a customer to their most mediocre table. “Let’s stick to the plan.”
“Whatever you want, Lilith. Did I tell you, I love your name?”
He loves our name!
Oh, please. He’s not just a pick-up, he’s an unoriginal pick-up. He’s—what? Two years away from thirty? And he’s stuck on ‘derp, great name!’?
“I know.” She could feel the blood rush to her cheeks. Did that sound vain? It was hard, sometimes, walking the line between confident and conceited. “I mean...you said. About my name. The day we met. You said. My name? You liked it. My name, I mean.”
You know what? I feel a lot better about this. Your innate inanity is going to chase him right out of here.
“The hell it is!” she snapped, and stepped forward, put a hand on the back of his neck, and brought his face to hers in a clash of teeth that was barely a kiss.
“Nnnnnnfff!”
“Oh my God.” She reeled back and saw a tiny drop of blood well on that beautiful pouty lip. “I’m so sorry!”
Oh, Lilith, what did you do?
Ahhhhhh-ha-ha-ha-ha!
Maybe he likes a little of the rough stuff. Quick! Swoop in and do it again so he thinks it’s on purpose!
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh-ha-ha-ha-ha!
Mortified, she buried her face in her hands, but at his chuckle she dared to peek. “You should be running. Seriously. Save yourself. This will only get worse. I’ve accidentally set myself on fire. Twice.”
“Lilith Tien, you don’t scare me,” he replied, and stepped in close.
Then he is a foolish, foolish man.
ZOMG, so sweet!
His hand as it cupped the back of her head was gentle. So was his mouth as it slanted over hers, as he gave her the nicest, sweetest kiss she’d had in two years.
“Your mouth,” she managed against said mouth, and pulled back a bit. “D’you know how many times I wanted to knock your iced espresso out of your hand and just kiss you and kiss you and kiss you?”
He smiled. “I would have been startled, but into it. But think about those poor scandalized baristas!”
“Let ‘em get their own gorgeous nurse.” She thumbed another drop of blood away, and he kissed her thumb. Which was fine. They’d exchanged STD panels four days ago.
At least you haven’t completely lost your marbles.
Safety is the new sexy!
She initiated another kiss and they spent the next couple of minutes making out like teenagers after prom.
How would you know? We didn’t go to prom.
Don’t make it sound like we couldn’t get a date. We had mono again.
“You—um—“ She tugged at his shirt. “Make that go away.”
Oh good God.
Yes! The shirt must go, ALL OF THE CLOTHES MUST GO.
“Your wish.” He stepped back and began unbuttoning his shirt and she quickly realized what a terrible error in judgement she’d made.
“No.”
Yes! She sees sense! Finally!
“Please. Let me.” Lilith couldn’t remember the last time pushing buttons through holes had been equal parts erotic and satisfying. While she unbuttoned, he rested his hands on her waist and kissed the tender spot behind her ear.
I hope he doesn’t spend too much time on our ears.
I hope he spends HOURS on our ears!
It’s hard to think when his tongue is gaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh...
“Oh, that’s nice,” she sighed as he turned his attention to her throat, flicking his tongue as he licked up to her other ear.
...aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh...
“I love your throat. And I love the little beauty marks right over your jugular.”
...aaaaahhhhhhh—what? Idiot. Those aren’t beauty marks—
Yes they are!
—they’re a type of melanocytic nevus.
Lilith was now sliding his shirt off his shoulders and tipping her head back to allow him more access.
Well, he definitely told the truth about being a swimmer. Those shoulders! And his back! He’s just a walking pile of lean muscle mass.
Fine, he told us one thing that turned out to probably be true (maybe). This is still reckless with a dash of stupid.
YOU’RE reckless with a dash of stupid!
Really? That’s your comeback?
Seth pulled her shirt over her head while she wriggled out of her skirt, chuckling as she clutched his forearm to keep her balance. No need to make it more awkward by accidentally giving herself a concussion. “Yeah, yeah,” she managed. “Warned you. I’m a mobile disaster.”
“‘Disaster’ isn’t exactly the first word that comes to mind when I think about you. And I do think about you, Lilith. All. The. Time.”
Creepy.
Romantic!
“I can’t even tell you how happy I am that we’re both here now. All week I figured you’d come to your senses and call it off.”
That was a vain hope, Seth. A VAIN FUCKING HOPE.
“You could be with anybody,” he continued as she backed him toward the king-sized bed and fumbled for his belt buckle. “Literally anybody.”
Figuratively, Seth, you braying idiot.
Shut the hell up, grammar police.
Right. Because expecting people to know what they’re talking about is such a high bar.
“But you picked me,” he continued, oblivious—thank goodness!—to the turmoil in her brain. “Just some random nurse you sometimes have coffee with—“
“With an angel’s name,” she said, smiling. “And there’s nothing random about you, Seth Gabriel.”
“—but you! You work anywhere you want, you set your own hours, millions of people read your work—“
She tried to squash it, but the giggle bubbled out anyway. “I love how you’re making it sound like I have a real job with real world impact.”
It IS a real job.
Fortune cookie writer is not a real job. “Your co-workers are definitely talking about you behind your back” is not a fortune. “Tomorrow will suck harder” is not a fortune.
We pioneered funny fortunes, dammit! Why are you always so negative?
“It pays the rent,” Lilith said demurely. Mostly. She supplemented by writing greeting card verses.
(Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
Your ass is so fine.
Your dimple is, too!)
“Why would you even pick me?” She was still fumbling with his belt and he took her hands in his, squeezed lightly to stop her. “I never talked to you. I mean, I noticed you. Everybody did, probably, you’re so—“
Bedraggled?
Alluring?
“So...” she prompted, and she wasn’t fishing for a compliment. (She wasn’t!) Merely being courteous, giving him a chance to finish his thought.
“Well, you know. But I didn’t really talk to anybody.”
“Introvert,” she teased, and was he...? Yes! He was actually blushing a little.
So. Frigging. Cute.
Maybe he’s having a stroke.
“I am, yeah. I was really glad you dropped your Frapp on me. Instant ice-breaker.”
Instant lawsuit.
“I was glad, too.” But only in retrospect. She didn’t even know what she tripped on, which was the story of her pratfall-filled life. She didn’t know what her victim’s reaction was going to be, either, but assumed it would be negative. This was the land of Minnesota Nice, but you could push some people only so far, and not one step further.
She only knew that her drink went flying and she was stuck on a greeting card verse because everything that rhymed with ‘doodle’ was ridiculous and thank goodness she’d avoided spilling on her shirt because she was out of detergent and it was par for the course because it was only Wednesday.
“So you didn’t spill your drink on purpose?”
She burst out laughing. “No. In fact, I do that about twice a week.”
“So you weren’t, uh, luring me into your web of seduction with your Frappuccino-esque wiles?”
Words failed her and she laughed harder as Seth’s blush deepened. She remembered—was it only a month ago?—being horrified to see green goo slopped and oozing all over his shoes. His expression: startled, then cautiously pleased. He’d put her at ease almost instantly, explaining that as an ER nurse he was immune to being grossed out by...well...anything.
And before she knew it, he’d bought her a new Frapp and they were chit-chatting about their lives.
So here they were, and it was hard to remember how nervous she’d been ten minutes ago, and with that thought, she reached for his belt buckle again. Was there anything sexier (besides dimples) than the sound of a man unbuckling his belt? That ‘clink-clink’ went straight to her clit. “D’you want to know why I kept coming back to that Starbucks? The one ten miles out of my way?” She’d been getting an oil change, then went to Walgreens to kill time while scoping the competition’s greeting cards. Which made her thirsty, so: to the coffee shop!
His blond brows arched. “Really?” he said, delighted. “But I saw you there at least half a dozen times!”
“Well, sure. Because I kept coming back. Because: the dimple.”
“Noooo. That’s amazing! My grandma was right.”
Really? REALLY? He’s gonna drag his Nana into this? What kind of a depraved freak talks about his grandmother while seducing a hack?
“She predicted your dimple would be like catnip?”
“Yeah, actually.”
“Better call her up and tell her she was right.”
“She died six years ago.”
“Oh.” She took her hands off his belt, because yikes. “I’m very sorry.”
“She’d been sick for a while. It was sad, but not unexpected.”
If I can’t talk you into leaving, can we at least speed up the seduction? Pretty please? Also, STOP TALKING ABOUT DEAD GRANDMOTHERS.
I hate to be negative, but she’s actually right. I mean, it’s sweet and all, about his poor grandma, but it’s not conducive to passionate lovemaking.
Or at least, it’d better not be.
“Enough about your dead grandma.” Oh my God. Had she...? Yep. She’d said that out loud.
Out.
Loud.
She must have look stricken, because he smiled and said, “It’s okay. I know what you meant.” His hands went to her waistband. “May I?”
Yes. For God’s sake, a thousand times YES. Let’s get this freak show back on track. Its laughable careless dangerous weird stupid track.
Except for the mean thing at the end, I agree.
“Oh, yes, please.” In a few seconds he had her stepping out of her skirt and was skimming her shoulder blades with his fingers, pushing her bra straps down, and reaching behind for the clasp. This gave her access to his neck, which she kissed and kissed and kissed as the bra went, as her panties went.
At least you didn’t wear the Cookie Monster underpants.
Target has remarkably sensual lingerie!
She got hold of his belt again, the holy grail of belts, the most wonderful of belts, and then she thumbed the button open and yanked the zip.
“Okay, I’m feeling a little rushed here, but it’s okay, since that’s pretty hot.”
“Less talking,” she teased, “more undressing.” His pants puddled around his ankles, and...
Here’s a tip: shoes, then belt, button, zip, pants, socks, shirt. In that order.
It’s going great! You’ve got this.
He grinned and opened his mouth to reply and she lost patience with the whole damned thing because honestly. She planted her palms on his (broad) chest and shoved; his back hit the bed as she got her fingers under the waistband of his black boxer-briefs.
Boring.
Classic!
She wasted no time tugging them down and, for the first time, got a good look at his cock.
God DAMN.
Whoa.
“Oofta,” she managed, and he giggled, which should have been absurd coming out of that deep chest, but wasn’t. “You’ve been keeping secrets.”
“There never seemed to be an appropriate time to introduce the topic,” he deadpanned.
Good one. Dammit.
Just when I thought Seth Gabriel couldn’t get yummier...
Don’t say ‘yummier’. We’re not thirteen.
I’ll say whatever I like! And what’s your problem, exactly? All you’ve done today is be a pill!
And all you’ve done is be insipid.
Shut up!
YOU shut up!
“Stop it!” Lilith shrieked, and Seth nearly fell off the bed.
“What? Are you okay?” he asked, sitting up and peering down at her with wide eyes. “I’m so sorry, whatever I did—“
“Nothing!” Everything, her two inner idiots were ruining everything again, again. “I mean, you didn’t do anything. You’re fine. You’re beyond fine. I just—“ She made a fist and bopped herself in the right temple. “Please don’t read into this but every now and again I can’t shut off the hubbub in my brain and I was scared to come here and I wanted to come here and I couldn’t wait to come here and every morning I looked forward to seeing you and I’ve never done anything like this before and I guess you could say I’m of two minds about it...”
Yep.
At least!
“...but I want this. I want you. I just—“ How? How to explain that her cheerleading idiot and her dour bitch—
Hey!
Rude.
—that her angel and her devil, who (to be fair) looked out for her, and tried to help her even if their methods were beyond irritating, got louder and shriller and harder to tune out the lonelier she got?
Nope. There was no way to explain that. Not without sounding hopelessly unhinged and in dire need of anti-psychotic meds.
“Hey.” She looked up to see Seth had scooted down to the edge of the bed, had leaned down and cupped her chin in his hand. “It’s fine. It’s all fine, Lilith, I promise.”
Fine. The perfect word for mediocrity.
Give him a chance, jeez!
“I had seven brothers and sisters. My mom worked two jobs and I was so obsessed with quiet and privacy I ended up seeing a therapist because you know what? We’re all a little nuts. No exceptions.”
She sat back on her heels and studied him. Calm. Comfortable. Not weirded out in the slightest. And that was such a relief to her she was almost dizzy with it. “Is that why you became an R.N.? Because you know what it’s like to be the one who needs help?”
“No, I became an R.N. because any time one of the eight of us had to present to the ER, the nurses were incredible. Nothing phased them. Not even when my sister bled on them and then—because blood freaks her out—threw up on them. Twice!”
Annnnnnnd we’ve moved from talking about dead grandmothers to talking about bleeding barfing siblings.
I hate when you’re right.
“Okay.” She took a deep breath, nodded. “Thanks, I feel a lot better.”
“Happy to help.”
“And how long are we going to pretend that your dick hasn’t been bobbing between us for the last twenty seconds?”
It’s like a flesh-colored baton!
So hypnotic.
“As long as it takes!” he declared, “and then we ggggnnnn ohhh my God.”
She’d grasped his cock at the base, gently squeezed, then licked a stripe from balls to crown. It was fair to say she had liked his cock on sight and liked it even better close up. She trailed kisses from the flushed red crown to his perineum and back up while Seth fell back with a delighted groan.
Finally! Down to business.
No thanks to you and your constant negativity.
Lilith let out a warning growl—
Okay, okay. We’ll be quiet.
Like church mice!
Church mice? Out of all the things in existence that are quiet, you went with church—
And here comes the negativity, right on cue!
—and then another growl, this one louder.
Fine.
Okay.
Fortunately, Seth took it as something she’d meant to do as a means of titillation—
“Ahhhhh, the vibrations when you oh God, that’s good!”
—as opposed to her having to break off to squash yet another internal mutiny. She sucked his cock back into her mouth and felt the spongy head hit the back of her throat. She felt one of his hands settle in her hair and peeked. His right hand was clenching the bedspread so hard his knuckles had gone white, but his left was gently resting on the top of her head.
She popped off, which elicited another groan, and said, “You can pull. I like it.”
“Jesus,” he managed shakily.
“And you can thrust in and out, nice and hard, if you want. I like that, too. I haven’t had a gag reflex since I ate a bunch of nightcrawlers in fifth grade on a dare.”
“So you’re just effortlessly perfect in bed. That’s what you’re telling me. Perfect.”
All right. Gotta give it to him. Anyone who hears the worm story and thinks ‘perfect’ is worth getting to know.
Shhhhh!
Sorry! Sorry.
He did start thrusting, then, but the hand in her hair never clenched, never wavered from gentle caresses. “God. God. Your mouth, ah, Christ, your mouuuuuth...stop. Stop.”
She backed off at once, rested her hands on the tops of his thighs and looked up at him. “Are you okay? Did I—“
“I’m miles beyond okay. Okay is missing the mark by a huge margin. C’mere.” He reached down, caught her by the arms, dragged her up off the floor, onto the bed, onto him. “It’s been a while for me, is all, and you’re so—I don’t want to be done in sixty seconds.”
“We could stretch it out to ninety seconds, if you think you’re up for it,” she teased.
“Oh, very funny.” He rolled them over until he was on top—yay, king-sized beds!—and kissed her, explored her mouth with his agile, clever tongue, worked his way down her throat, to the tops of her breasts. He licked at her nipples, nibbling around the edge of the areola and flicking the peak with the tip of his tongue, which was ohhhhh so nice, because her last boyfriend had treated her breasts like chew toys. Toys he was very, very fond of, but still: chew toys.
She broke off from her thoughts, anticipating her angel or devil piping up with their $0.02, but...nothing. They were apparently keeping to their agreement.
“That’s lovely,” she sighed, cradling his head. He was nibbling at the undersides of her breasts, now, and paused to reply.
“The underside is actually much more sensitive than the top. Right here, just above the inframammary fold—“
“Oooh, love the dirty talk. Now talk about ligaments and glands.” She squealed as he pinched her.
“It’d serve you right if I did,” he mock-warned. “I know tons about glands. Gobs.”
“That’ll learn me,” she agreed. “I—ack! I’m a little ticklish there.”
“Here?” he asked, and then pressed noisy kisses all around her belly button.
“Yes, aaggh!”
“Here?”
“Yes! And I think you know it!” She would have kept up the giggling/scolding, but he’d settled down to business and after nuzzling her pubic hair (she’d decided to do a Brazilian, then had a ‘fuck it, I am what I am’ moment, then compromised with a bikini wax), licked and sucked kisses all over her inner thighs. In all the years she’d been sexually active (four), men just dove down there and went right for oral, as much for their own benefit
(“Boy, you’re super wet! Time to fuck!”)
as, ostensibly, hers.
But Seth was in no rush, it seemed. He’d made himself a nice little temporary home down there and caressed and kissed and nuzzled, and when he (finally) parted her and probed with his tongue, she wanted to weep in relief. Up to that point, she’d been groaning into a pillow she’d snatched up and held to her face until
“Please don’t, I want to hear you, I’d love to hear you...”
she’d tossed it aside and just...just writhed on the bed with nothing on her mind beyond seeking out more stimulation, more friction, more anything.
Five minutes later, she was ready to yowl in exquisite frustration and raw want. He’d varied parting and probing her with his tongue with soft leisurely licks, occasionally sweeping across her clit, then settling back to more flicks of his tongue. And he was teasing her with his fingers as he did all those things, sometimes holding her open with his thumbs as he licked and kissed, sometimes running two fingers up and down and occasionally over her clit, only to pull back and lap at her with broad sweeps of his tongue.
“Jesus,” she groaned, and was that her voice? So thick and slurred? “Seth, please fuck me. I never thought I’d say this, but that’s enough foreplay.” She could feel how wet he was making her, could feel an ache burning through her from head to heels. “I want your cock, Seth, c’mon.”
“Oh, but it’s so nice down here,” he murmured. “You’ve gone all slippery-soft and the sounds you’re making, Lilith. I could almost come from those alone.”
“Don’t. You. Dare.” She reached down and tugged at his shoulders and he came up into her arms and she kissed him. Kissed him and tasted herself and pulled one of his thumbs into her mouth and sucked while his dark gaze never left hers. She reached down and found his hot hard length, felt him throbbing impatiently against her palm and God, he felt good.
“How?” she said. “Tell me. On my back? On my hands and knees? On top, riding that fucking gorgeous cock of yours? I want any of that. All of that. Tell me.”
She could almost see his I.Q. drop along with his jaw. “Oh, Christ, that’s—I—wh—uh—on your back, this time? I want to see your—I mean—wait. I’m not assuming—I wouldn’t want you to think I’m getting ahead of myself—or taking you for granted—“
She nibbled on his lower lip and ran her fingers up and down his hot, slick cock and he shivered against her. “Shut up. Fuck me. And there’ll be a next time. Count on it. So just ahhhhhh!”
She wanted it, was more than ready for it...and it was still overwhelming in all the best ways. Nothing hurt—he’d made her so wet for him—but the sense of being filled was astonishing.
And it only got better when he started to move, long deep strokes in and out as he put his palms on her knees and spread her a bit wider. She met his every thrust, clutched at his shoulders, then balled her hands into fists—her nails were long and she was afraid she’d claw him to ribbons as she chased her pleasure.
“Lilith. You can. You can do. Whatever the fuck you want. To my back. Okay?” Each pause was punctuated by a stroke so hard and deep she practically felt him in her throat.
“That’s so good,” she slurred. “You feel so good, please, harder.”
“You’re incredible,” he groaned, “you—please tell me you’re close.”
“I—“
“Because I might die if I try to hold this off. And also, please tell me that speed turns you on.”
She laughed, then cut herself off with a gasp. Close? Oh, yes. He’d edged her into the sweet spot, those last few moments between wanting to come and knowing it’s inevitable. She found it hard to believe they’d been talking about his dead grandmother fifteen minutes ago.
Don’t think about that now, you silly bitch!
Good advice. And she was so close, even those two yammering away couldn’t muck it up. She was sort of amazed they’d stayed quiet as long as they had.
FUCK, he’s good at this.
Fuck! He’s good at this!
Ah. That would explain it. Wait—did that mean all she’d ever needed to keep them quiet was really terrific sex?
She couldn’t think about now. The only thing she could think about was... “Don’t stop,” she managed. “I’m so close, I—ah—“ The warmth that started in her belly now raced through her and the world fell away as her orgasm crashed through her. She could hear someone calling out hoarsely
(“Seth-Seth-Seth-SethSethSethSethSeth—“)
and realized that, unless it was Seth’s habit to scream his own name during orgasm, it was her. She locked her ankles behind his gorgeously muscular back as he fucked her through it, as he stiffened just seconds later. She saw his eyes roll back and then he was shuddering through his own climax and collapsing, rolling to the side at the last moment so he wouldn’t squash her under his full body weight. (Which, for the record, she would have been fine with.)
Nobody talked for a long time.
Which was great.