Chapter Eleven - Brooke
I tug Anthony into my apartment, shutting the door behind him and kissing him again. He puts his hands on my waist, pulling me in closer. I flip on the lights, not sure if we should head toward the bedroom or toward the couch, not sure if I really should pour us that wine or if I should start to work the buttons on his shirt. Anthony makes the choice for me, guiding us to my couch and pulling me practically onto his lap when we get there.
There’s a casual lightness but firm deliberateness to Anthony’s movements that makes me shiver a little. I think thank god and finally as Anthony’s hand creeps under my dress, up my thighs, over my stomach and ribs, up and over my breasts, back over my hips. Each touch feels like so much that they’re sending me spinning. I think I could actually melt – like Anthony could actually melt me and then maybe put me back together again. I think I’d like him to never stop touching me.
“God,” I say, throwing my head back as his fingers dance over my breasts again, teasing my nipples and making me gasp.
“I’ve wanted this since I saw you again. Maybe longer than that,” Anthony says, drawing another gasp out of me as he does. “I’ve been thinking about it constantly.”
“Have you?” I ask, nodding rapidly as he pulls my dress over my head. I’m already soaking wet, and I want him so badly. I want Anthony more than I can remember ever wanting anyone else.
“So fucking much,” Anthony says, cupping my breasts in his hands and licking my neck. He picks me up a little, moving me away so he can lean over me, and pull my legs apart with his hands. “Can I taste you?”
“Please,” I say, grinding my hips up at his words. I’m so wet, so turned on, and it’s been a long time since I’ve had an orgasm I didn’t give myself. Even with Jeff, he was rarely attentive to whether or not I’d come. I’d ended up finishing myself more often than I should have. Anthony looks more than turned on: he looks hungry for me. I shiver.
Anthony leans back down to kiss me, running his hands up and down my arms a few times he does. He pulls back up and traces his hands over my body, stopping to lick lines on my breasts, my ribs, around my navel, my hip bones, my thighs, until I’m whimpering over and over.
He licks from my hips to my thighs, circles getting closer and closer to my soaking wet clit, making me feel like I’m on fire. He spreads my legs apart firmly, and I groan at the sensation. Anthony dances fingers on the inside of my thighs, running his tongue over a thousand sensitive spots, before running it up and finally licking my clit.
It’s all I can do to not buck my hips at the sensation, more so when Anthony starts to tease a finger, dipping just slightly inside me but not really – not enough. “Fuck,” I say, breathing hard. Anthony keeps licking me as he slides a finger and then two all the way inside me. Slowly, slowly he moves in and out. The combined feeling of his mouth and fingers is so much I feel lightheaded.
For a while, I just lose myself completely in the achingly good sensation – the slow twist and pull of Anthony’s fingers, the warmth of his mouth, the circles he makes with his tongue, the firm press of his free hand on my hip. For several long minutes, maybe longer, I ride the waves of it. I’m lost and floating until Anthony picks up the speed of his fingers and tongue rapidly, sending me falling over the edge. I’m coming so hard that I scream out his name – so hard that I think I see white at the edges of my vision.
Anthony stands up and takes my hand, and I pull him close and kiss him, my own taste on his lips making me somehow even wetter. I want him, need him, now. I tug on his hands, leading him toward my bedroom.
Halfway to my bed, just inside my bedroom, I decide there is something else I want right now. I kiss Anthony again, suddenly wanting, needing, to make a stop first, before we get to my bed. I can’t get the way Anthony had looked on his knees out of my head. It’s swimming with how much I want Anthony. With how much I think I’ve wanted it for weeks, maybe longer. And right now, now that’s it’s actually happening, I want everything.
But first, I think I want to--
“Wait,” I say, angling us so Anthony’s back is to the wall. I kiss him again, firm and hard. He responds, pressing up against me, rocking his hips, breathing hard. I can feel the swell of his cock through his pants. I know how hard he is.
“What’s up?” Anthony asks. He probably means it to sound light and casual, but it comes out sort of desperate.
“You’re not the only one who's wanted this,” I say, sliding my hands to the edge of his shirt, running my fingers over his muscles.
“No?” Anthony asks as I pull his shirt off.
“No,” I say, running my hands over his chest, his stomach, every curve and line, heading for the waist of his jeans. “And I wanted to see you and touch you and taste you.” It’s a little bolder than something I’d normally let myself say, and it makes feel sort of wild and dirty. I like it. Everything feels different with Anthony. I feel like I can be more upfront about what I want. I want to be with him, want to let myself fully want him like this, appreciate him like this, feel the full force of my attraction to him like this.
“Please do,” Anthony says, and I and kiss him again before undoing the button on his jeans and tugging them down.
I allow my eyes to roam, to travel all over Anthony for a minute, taking in every muscle, every flash of skin, the sight of his cock, hard and waiting for me, bigger than anyone else I’ve ever been with. I run my hands over the all the lines and muscles I find.
I want, I think, to do this memorably – to be the best. I know Anthony has had a lot of sex with a lot of women in New York, but I don’t care. I want this to be a standout sort of experience. I want this to be burned into his brain.
So, I kiss him again and slowly slide a hand down to wrap around his cock, light and slow. He gasps into my mouth.
“Shit,” Anthony says, “please.”
I keep my hand moving slowly as I lick my way down Anthony’s neck, down his chest, slowly tasting all that skin, all those lines, as I stroke his hard cock slowly. He shudders and puts a hand on my neck. I keep going, lowering myself to spend a while licking his hipbones, hearing all the sounds he makes, the words that roll out of his mouth.
“Brooke, fuck,” Anthony says. “That’s so good. You look so sexy like that.”
His eyes are so dark and turned on that I want to swim in them forever. I stop the motion of my hand, and then take Anthony’s cock in my mouth, leaving one hand around him and anchoring his hips with the other. I don't bother with slow or light now, going all-out, reveling in the devastatingly hot sounds he makes as I do, the gasps and moans I’m sure will burn into my brain. I keep going, letting him buck his hips up into my hands and my mouth.
I don’t stop until he puts a hand on my shoulder to still me.
“Come here,” he says, pulling me up and kissing me. He’s still rock hard. I can feel his cock pressed against my leg as we kiss. “I want you.”
“I want you,” I say back. “I need you to fuck me.”
“After you,” Anthony says, gesturing to my bed. I feel shaky as I walk. I don’t think I’ve ever been so wet and turned on in my life, and I’ve already come once tonight. I lie back in bed and Anthony crawls over me, smiling as he does.
Anthony runs his hands over me again, teasing my stomach and thighs, and I think could come again just from the pressure. I might if Anthony isn’t inside me soon, fucking me.
“Please,” I say, kissing Anthony again. He gives me a smile that makes my breath catch, and then he’s sliding inside me, deep and hard. I feel like I’m falling apart from the first roll of Anthony’s hips. He’s already hitting spots inside me that no one ever has before, and I never want him to stop. I fall back with him against the bed, and I try to keep my eyes open, to look at the way Anthony is looking at me, to hold onto this moment.
I’m covered in sweat, and I feel helpless to the delicious motion of Anthony’s hips, to being fucked like this, to the blinding heat and feeling that hits from my fingers to my toes with every thrust Anthony makes. I cry out, feeling amazing.
I’ve never felt so close to someone while having sex – never really knew what that would be like. Now, I feel like Anthony and I are moving together like we’re one. When he moves a hand to rub circles on my clit while he fucks me, creating a back-and-forth that has my head spinning, it’s so good. It’s so beyond good that I think I’m floating. I’m so high that I think I’ll never come down.
It makes me feel like I’m Anthony’s – like we belong to each other. I could stay here and do this over and over, forever.
Anthony speeds up and then asks, “Ready to come for me?” He speeds up his fingers, pressing them just right over my soaking clit and making me explode, just as I feel Anthony shudder and come inside me. My mind melts and all I can feel is Anthony. The intense orgasm rocks my whole body.
Anthony pulls out of me and lays beside me. I bury myself in his strong chest, breathing hard and never wanting to move again.