12 – Fuck Him Like It’s Just One Night

Reed tried to catch her breath from her appetizer, still against the wall, her body draped over Troy. He circled her ass with his hands, then picked her up and carried her across the room. She wrapped her legs around him, kissing at him, making small noises of approval, wishing he would say something, anything. She wanted to hear his voice.

Troy stopped next to the bed, still holding her up. “You’re so beautiful,” he told her slowly, sincerely, and like he read her mind. His lips were on her neck, then her ear, then her collarbone, then he buried his face in her hair and took a deep breath, then spoke again. “I need to be inside you.”

Reed melted at the first sentiment, thawing, going sweet on this man for just a moment, until he said the second, then she remembered why they were there. One night only, wild animal sex that she could think about in her twilight years.

She kicked off her shoes, leaving them in the center of the floor, then twisted in his arms so she could take off those damn socks, too. No one can have animal sex with socks on, that’s a rule for sure, one made by nature, not her.

Troy growled his approval. He reached the bed and bent to lower her to it, like she weighed nothing at all, but she happened to know she was a nice hefty weight, thank you, he was just sturdy like an ox and a cop and every bad decision she’d ever made. She held onto his shoulders until he got her on the bed. Reed reached for her pants, shedding them as quickly as possible, then heading up for her shirt.

Troy got to it first and split it down the center.

Reed froze and stared at her exposed black bra. How had he even done that? She grabbed at his wrists to stop him and checked his fingernails but they were short as could be. “Did you just rip my shirt in half?” she said, scarcely able to believe it. Who does that?

He froze. “Yes. Sorry, I’ll replace it.”

He didn’t give her time to react to his words. He dropped his head and kissed her collarbone, then her neck, then her ear, and his hand found her breast for the first time. She sucked in a breath and arched her back, glad the shirt was split, because it meant his hands could get to more of her. Her breath came harder and faster as his attentions did, too. He cupped the nape of her neck, holding her head while she pressed into his kiss. He rolled her nipple through her bra, in that exact way that made her weak and pliable. All she could think was, oh yes, she was glad, so glad that she had done it, that she had taken his hand when he offered it. This man was going to fuck her so good. She tried not to moan in as much pleasure as she was feeling, tried not to pant or give away her hand. It was hopeless and useless. His eyes tracked her relentlessly, marking every reaction she had as he tweaked and rolled and even tugged on her nipples, making her gasp into his mouth again and again at the pleasure.

She needed his hands on her skin, now. She twisted so she could reach the back of her bra and flung it on the floor.

Troy froze again.

She was on the bed, breathing hard, naked except for pink panties, one leg bent, the other straight under Troy. He was fully-clothed, with one foot on the floor, the other knee on the bed. He was straddling her, looking like a yogajack again, thick but somehow still lean, biceps rippling as he grasped her hips and stared at her naked breasts. She didn’t have to wonder what he thought of them. His face went rapturous, and he ducked his head like he had when he’d been about to dive face-first into that oreo blizzard.

She wrapped her arms around his head and arched into him as much as she possibly could, her eyes rolling back in her head at the pleasure of his single-minded focus on her skin.

Time seemed to slow, then speed up, then slow again, until she wasn’t sure how long they’d been there, had it been twenty minutes, or two hours? How long could a person pant like she was panting? Just how swollen could she get?

It seemed he spent hours getting to know her body, working her nipples, palming her breasts, then running his hands down her stomach and around the edges of her panties, then back up to her breasts. He worked the pattern again and again while Reed writhed helplessly underneath him.

He was at her breasts, kissing her nipples again and again. “Like candy,” he said, his voice thick and needy, before he sucked on her like he would a lollipop. He pulled off her breasts and kissed her mouth, while reaching down to curl a finger through her wetness, making her gasp and come off the bed and cry out. She was so close again, swollen till it hurt, but he only gave her that one touch.

He growled when she gasped, and that sound, oh god, that sound. Something about it did her in. It was so sexy. She fell limp on the bed and tried to hold his hands still while he sucked on first one of her nipples, then the other, then kissed her, then went back to her breasts, until she was drunk on foreplay.

She reached out for him, half-heartedly, wanting him as naked as she was, but not wanting him to stop what he was doing. Troy caught her fingers in his hand and sucked on the very tips, then he curled her hand into her breast and made her pluck her own nipples with her own wet fingers. The pleasure made her eyes roll closed.

“You’re so pretty,” he growled in her ear, slowly, while they both tweaked her nipples. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her neck arched so far back that the top of her head was on the pillow. He said it again, “You’re so pretty,” then he growled for real, just a little snarly noise that liquified her center. “So perfect,” he added, sincerity thick in his tone.

Her heart ached in her chest and she realized just how dangerous the game she was playing was. “Stop it, stop it,” she told him, gasping the words. “I’m here, I’m going to fuck you, don’t try to make me fall for you, too.”

He stopped moving, his hands freezing in place. She held perfectly still, panting, her body on fire, wanting more. Traffic moved on the street outside but the sounds were far away and unimportant. For a moment, she thought he was going to stop, that he wasn’t going to go through with fucking her silly after all, but that didn’t make sense, not if he was thinking this was as much of a one-night-stand as she was. His breathing had stopped; it started again, ragged and heavy.

“But you’re my─” He stopped, visibly biting back the words.

“I’m your what?” she whispered.

He shook his head and went back to what he had been doing. He ducked his head and his mouth competed with her fingers and his fingers, trying to suck on that nipple, while his free hand rolled her other nipple endlessly.

Reed let it all go as pleasure traveled down the center of her, wrapping her up tight, letting in no rational thoughts at all. What her body wanted overruled everything else. This man knew how to play her, and tonight, she only wanted to be a toy.

Just this one crazy guy, for just this one crazy night. Tonight he would make it up to her, the fact that he had gotten her fired. Tomorrow, she would tell him good-bye forever.

He hooked a finger under her panties and pulled them down her legs, slowly, delicately, until she couldn’t take it anymore and she yanked them down.

Again, she got the blizzard look. Again, he dove in.

He pushed himself up so he could reposition himself, his eyes on her hoo-ha like it was a Monet, then he actually dove onto the bed, his face between her legs. He wrapped an arm around each of her thighs and without so much as a warning, he was all-in, right up in her business.

Reed arched her back and started toward her next orgasm. He was surprisingly gentle for such a rough-and-tumble guy, almost… exploratory, like he wasn’t entirely sure he knew what he was doing, but oh man, she was here to say, he knew what he was doing.

He sucked on her gently, just exactly like she were a lollipop he wanted to make last all night long. Pleasure built inside Reed, pushing out anything and everything else, keeping her focused in the moment, in the cheap motel with the hot guy, the scent of sex in the air, her little noises of pleasure mixing well with his louder noises of satisfaction.

The pressure built inside Reed until it snapped, hard and relentless, making her curl up and grab at him because she could not take any more. The waves of hard pleasure pulsed through her, making her cry out again and again.

She fell back to the bed, limp, no strength in any muscles, eyes half-closed. Yep, that had done it. He’d made up for getting her fired.

He was still down there, kissing her inner thighs, murmuring softly, and he even still had his boots on.

She kicked herself up on her elbows, watching him for a moment, a strange birthmark on his shoulder catching her eye. It looked like a bomb dropping from the sky, straight down his back. She tapped him on the head, covering her breasts with a pillow. “I’m feeling a little vulnerable here.”

He didn’t move, so she pulled herself into a seated position, pulling out of his reach a little. He pushed himself up. “Why?” he said, but it sounded more like, “I?” because his W was shot to hell. Interesting. She wondered if he’d ever had a lip injury, but she saw no scars.

He nodded, understanding in his face, before she could answer him. “Because you’re naked and I’m not.”

“Bingo.”

He stood and he stripped, starting with his boots, unlacing them, then kicking them off in the sexiest way she’d ever seen. White socks under black boots, gone. Then his shirt, gone. Muscles for days. She couldn’t get enough of it. Then the pants. Commando underneath, of course. And oh lord, there it was. What they were working with. Long and thick and standing at full attention

It was going to be a good night.