31 – Friction

Can you show me? Had she really just said that?! Who did she think she was, Anastasia Steele? Reed tried not to hyperventilate. The room was a touch cold, the air-conditioner up too high, but Troy was hot, so hot. His body pressed against hers and she struggled to get closer to him still, to let him warm her.

Troy licked his lips and she saw the determination fall into his face and she was glad she had said it, but terrified, too. “Yes,” he said, then his fingers tightened in her hair one time, pulling at it, gently, making her shudder, her skin going goosebumps. The fear eased.

He came in close to her again, dropping his head to her neck, and his hands to her shoulders. He lifted her, arching her back, pulling her breasts into him. His body seared her, his every touch a delicious burn she could barely handle. Her breath came in short, fast pants. He dropped his head to her neck and kissed her like he had all the time in the world, like he planned to still be there on Tuesday. Reed relaxed into it, sighing, her body unwinding under his touch. She opened to him, mentally, physically, hooking one leg around him, trying to pull him in closer to her. She lifted her hands to his hair, intending to pull it, to steer him, to show him exactly how she wanted it.

Troy grabbed both her wrists at the same time, gently, pressing them to her sides, holding them there as he kissed and sucked on her neck and collarbone. She struggled, but her heart wasn’t in it, it felt too good for her to protest that she couldn’t do anything back. She relaxed into it. “Troy,” she breathed.

“I’m here,” he rasped into her neck. “I love you.”

Reed’s heart jumped, aching and twisting, and she didn’t know if she could take it, if she could handle his intensity. Too much! Too soon! Troy talked her down with his tongue on her skin and his strong hands kneading her wrists and forearms, his lower body nudging at her, reminding her of how they fit together.

“Shh,” he whispered to her. “I got you.”

Reed stared at the ceiling, an inner struggle she didn’t understand warring inside her. One side won with finality, but she didn’t know which, until she spoke. “I know,” she whispered.

He lifted his head for a moment and stared at her. She stared back, even if she wanted to drop her eyes. He released her wrists. “Take your shirt off.”

She did quickly, slamming the bonus round by ripping her shorts off, too, but she hid beneath the blanket, shy suddenly.

“Put your hands over your head,” he told her, his tone all sexy-yummy-growly.

“Hm,” she said, “I’m not sure who you think you’re talking to,” but she knew who he was talking to. Her. She just couldn’t go there without at least a bit of a fight.

Troy walked his fingers up her body, over the blanket, until he was at her wrists. He took one of her small hands in his two big ones, massaging it gently, not at all roughly, then he stared into her eyes, waiting to see which way she would go, and lifted the hand over her head, tucking it under the pillows behind her. She let him, wanting very much to see where this was going.

Troy grasped her other wrist, rubbing the skin there so lightly with his thumbs, a low growl starting in his throat. She checked his face. He was staring at her chest where the blanket had pulled down a little and half her nipple was showing. Desire for this man hit Reed hard in the throat and chest and deep in her core, making her pant and cry out a little. She let him put her other hand over her head, not resisting at all.

“Keep them there,” Troy said, watching her closely.

She could only nod, feeling like her eyes were open too wide, watching him to see what he would do next. He looked down her body, hugged by the blanket, then he tugged the blanket down slowly, revealing the rest of her partially-showing nipple, the feather-touch-slide of the blanket over her naked skin making Reed’s eyes roll closed. “Yes,” she moaned, having to say something, not daring to say Troy’s name again.

He licked his lips and pulled the blanket lower and lower, taking Reed’s sudden shyness with it. She arched her back and lifted her hips, arms high over her head.

A hand touched her breast and she squeaked. He rolled her nipple while still pulling the blanket down, down, down her body, until she was completely naked, again, while he was completely clothed. She didn’t care because he was about to put that mouth on her, she could feel it.

He did, climbing onto the couch between her legs, hooking his arms around her thighs. He breathed on her clit, then kissed it, then licked it once, making her quiver and cry out.

“Keep your hands where they are.”

“Mmhmm,” she said, biting her lip, arching up, waiting for what she knew was coming, unable to be anything but greedy and wanting. She would do anything he wanted if he would just. Put. That. Mouth. On. Her.

Troy kissed her on the thighs, kneading her skin with his hands, kissing her closer and closer to the parts of her that throbbed for him the most. Something soft, so soft touched her lips, then up ever so slightly. Tongue or lips, tongue or lips, she couldn’t tell.

Reed arched into the pillow and held on for dear life.

“Reed,” she gasped. “My name is Reed.”

Good thing she’d gotten those words out, because a moment later, she blew apart in a powerful orgasm that made her forget her own name.

***

Troy grinned as his female came all over his tongue, her sweet essence pouring all over him. He held her hips tight and rode her movements until they slowed and calmed and her hips dropped back onto the couch.

“Reed,” he said, licking his lips, wiping his face with the back of his palm. “Rrrrrreeeeeeed,” he said again, drawing out the R and the E sounds, liking it, liking everything about it. His female’s name, like his female, was lovely and no-nonsense.

Troy stood and stripped his clothes off, liking how Reed’s eyes flew open when she heard his pants coming down. Her hand came out from behind the pillow and reached for him.

Troy caught her wrist with his left hand; with his right, he stroked his hard and straining dick a few times. “We have all night, Reed,” he said. There wasn’t even a W in it. It was the perfect name. “Can’t you be patient?”

She shook her head, no, pouting a little, her eyes on what he was stroking. If that didn’t turn a male on, he didn’t know what did. He stroked it some more. Her other hand came out and reached for him and he caught that wrist with his left hand, too, pinning them together, then taking them over her head.

“I like that in a mate,” he growled, then he growled for real, and her eyes closed like he’d stroked her. He let go of her, bent and got an arm under her shoulders, then one under her knees. He picked her up, making her eyes fly open. She grabbed for his neck, making a surprised noise. He sat down smoothly and positioned her on his lap, facing away from him, his cock nudging her from the back.

“Troy─” she panted, but she bent her neck to the right, baring her left shoulder, making him think of biting her. Her scent went triple thick and heavy and sweet, making his eyes roll back in his head. Was she thinking of it, too? He wouldn’t, though, not for now.

Troy curled her down onto him, loving her moan as he eased himself inside of her, his eyes on her mark, growling ever so lightly in the very back of his throat. His female was tight and wet and so very ready for him to show her who she belonged with. He gritted his teeth against the instant compulsion to just explode all over everything, bearing the pleasure like pain until he got ahold of himself. He stroked once, experimentally, then grabbed her hips hard with his fingers and curled her up, all the way up, so he could watch the show. He lowered her down slowly, then found a better position, laying on the couch where she had been, pulling her with him, until she was sitting up in a reverse cowgirl position.

He curled his hand around her right elbow and pulled her toward him, arching her back so she couldn’t move, all she could do was experience, and then he began to pump into her from below. One stroke, two strokes, then more, coming faster and faster. Yes. Her scent thickened and deepened more.

Troy got a hand on her other elbow. He wrapped them both around behind her and held them there with one hand. “Yes, Reed,” he told her. “That’s good, that’s so good.” He thrust into her harder, rocking her curvy body up, making her neck curve and her breasts bounce. His mouth watered. He wanted at them. He wanted at all of her. He gathered her hair into a ponytail and levered her a little farther off of center, getting her to lean into his forearm.

Her curls bounced around his hand, the sensation strangely sensual, like silk against tender skin. She melted back into him, bracing her legs, but her upper body liquid. He let go of her hair and ran the very tips of his fingers up her back, making her cry out and jerk forward. He stilled her and thrust into her, giving her everything he had to give, overwhelming her senses, taking her closer and closer to that edge.

He set a slow pace, a deep pace. She tightened her legs and moved above him. “Let it happen,” Troy told her, “Don’t think, just feel,” he said. She relaxed a little and so he sped up, but only a little. She tensed again, her slippery tightness a slick heaven he could barely handle. He slowed until she relaxed again, thrusting into her, meaning every single stroke.

It was so easy to read her every scent, her every nuance right then. Her want and her pleasure was in every curve of her body, in the way her dark hair fell down her back, in the way she ground against him and whimpered slightly, and how her fingernails dug into his skin when she touched him, how much she wanted him, how close she was. Her scent turned needy and sultry, like a cry in a hot summer night. She whimpered, pulled in on herself, then tried to turn again, he held her again, pulling her how her body needed to go. She gave in for just a moment, then tightened again, and then her head dropped back and she cried out, making Troy growl, loud and low in the quiet of her apartment. He controlled himself, thrusting slow and deep while his mate came hard.

A flush spread across her breasts and her belly, and she cried out again and again, then collapsed onto him. He gave her a moment.

He needed a moment himself, because, as her scent softened, something new twisted through it. The bright, hard, red scent of love. Love for him. It was only a tiny thread, new and hesitant, but it was there.

Troy buried his nose in his female’s hair and pulled her sweet mint scent into his body in great, soothing lungfuls, thrusting into her until he came inside her, trying only to cool the burn of his heart.