Chapter 5

Chanel

The motel room had a view of the street outside, now ice cold, the sleet from earlier freezing on the sidewalk. I’d slipped and almost fallen on the way up, but Ryan caught me and held me upright.

I shuddered at the memory of that touch.

The door clicked shut behind me, a beat passed, and then he was at my back. He didn’t invade my space, but he was close enough that heat poured from his skin and caressed mine. I’d left the fluffy coat back in the bar.

I didn’t give a shit. Paula could buy a new one for all I cared.

“I’m not usually like this,” I said, and didn’t turn around. “I don’t just come up to strange men’s rooms and talk to them about – I don’t know. I don’t do this.” Perhaps, I shouldn’t have come.

But whatever force drew me to Ryan glued me in place.

“I’m not like this either,” he said.

We spoke as if we’d already decided to take this further. My insides clenched and tightened up. Low heat spread from my tailbone inward, curling through my core, warming me from the inside out.

My cheeks flushed and I trembled. He hadn’t even touched me, yet. I couldn’t look at him.

“Chanel,” he said. He placed those massive hands, too big, too strong, on my hips and rotated me.

Our eyes met and I gasped. Electric connection. Too strong. What the hell was this? “Hi,” I said, and smoothed my fingers down his arms, over the muscles of his biceps and down to those hands.

I didn’t have other words for him. I lost the ability to articulate anything of worth.

He tugged me a little closer, and I gasped again. He was hard. Painfully hard, and the outline of his dick told me everything I needed to know about his size. Holy fucking shit. I was in huge trouble here. Excuse the pun.

I stammered, but nothing came out.

“Sorry,” he said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve held a beautiful woman.”

Once again, words failed me. I settled for slipping my arms around his neck and chaining him. Pressing my breasts to his body.

I’d done this kind of thing with one other man, but I had the distinct impression that Ryan would ruin my memory of him. That he’d ruin me for anyone else, for that matter.

It wasn’t just his body, his eyes, the tension connecting us. It was everything about him.

There was something behind all of this, a deeper meaning which terrified me.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Sure? I can take you home. I’ve got the truck out –”

I cut him off by circling my hips. A slow rhythm.

He drew breath. Eyelids fluttered. “Irresistible,” he muttered, then cupped my cheek and drew his lips closer to mine. Closer, closer, painfully close, hot breath dancing across my skin. Smell of smoke and beer, and then the heady scent beneath it all. The smell that was just so him.

It reminded me of warm days under the summer sun. Of comfort and home.

His lips touched mine and I melted against him.

“Oh God,” I groaned, into his mouth. Finally, I could speak again.

His tongue found mine and he massaged it with slow, sweeping motions. Moist and just fucking delicious.

I sucked his bottom lip, then nibbled it, worked my hands down his back, gripping the muscles beneath his shirt. I tugged at the fabric, desperate to have it off him. I needed his skin against mine. He was so fucking hot it burned my soul.

We broke apart. “Here,” he said, eyes unfocused. He lifted his arms.

I grasped the hem of his shirt and pulled it up and over his head. The sleeves hooked on those arms. And then he was topless and I lost the will to move.

Planes of muscles, a six pack, definition I’d only seen in Vin Diesel movies and nowhere else. I quivered. “Wow,” I whispered. He wasn’t lean muscle. He was stocky and powerful.

Ryan hooked his fingers under either of my dress’s straps. His gaze searched mine, now, checking, once again, that this was what I wanted.

I chewed my bottom lip and gave the tiniest nod. Yes, I wanted this. I’d never wanted anything more than I wanted this.

He worked the straps over my shoulders and dragged them down. My breasts popped free, nipples puckering in the cool air.

Ryan sucked in air. He bent in front of me and took my nipple between his lips. He licked a circle around it, then sucked hard.

I slapped my hands onto his back and hung on. I’d never been big on breast play, but his tongue teasing my skin brought me to new heights. This was what it was supposed to feel like.

I’d figured all the groans and moans in romantic movies were for show. Now, I got it.

Ryan kissed a trail from my left nipple to my right, then nibbled it. Goosebumps spread from the point of contact outward.

I was one big nerve-ending and I couldn’t handle much more of this. I needed him inside me. I jerked on his buckle, undid it, and stripped the belt off.

Ryan growled and massaged my breasts with both hands. He gathered them together and took my nipples in his mouth, sucked hard and worked them with his tongue.

“Oh.” It was all I could get out. I fumbled with the top button of his jeans. Finally, it popped free, and I wormed the zipper down. “Wait,” I said.

He backed off immediately. “Okay?” He cleared his throat. “You okay?” His chest rose and fell, rapidly. He wanted this as much as I did.

“It’s my turn,” I said. I tugged his jeans down and freed him.

His dick throbbed, as huge as I thought it would be. Veins down his shaft and impossibly thick. He dripped pre-cum, a long trail dribbled down his shaft.

I dropped to my knees in front of him, bottom half still restrained by my tight, red dress. I took his dick in my mouth and sucked up those juices, tasted him and was transported.

“Don’t,” he said, and touched my shoulder.

I looked up at him, mouth still full. My jaw ached, though I hadn’t even started yet.

“Not yet.”

I licked a circle around his head, just to tease him a little.

He throbbed and thickened between my lips. “Chanel,” he growled. “Not like this.” He tugged me to my feet.

“Why?” I frowned. He didn’t like it?

“I want the first time to be something special,” he said, then snagged a handful of my hair and dragged me into another soul-destroying kiss.

The first time? How many times would there be?

I pushed the questions away and melted against him.

Ryan walked me backward. We hit the bed and tumbled onto it, still kissing. He braced his arms on either side of my head.

I reached down and pulled my dress all the way off, exposing myself. I hadn’t worn underwear tonight, but only because I didn’t want to show panty lines.

Ryan pressed his forehead to mine and admired my body. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” His dick throbbed against my abdomen.

I couldn’t take much more of this. I reached between us and grasped the base of his cock, then guided it toward my slick, quivering entrance. “Please,” I said. “I need it. I need you. Please.”

He took control from me, pressed his head between my wet lips, but didn’t enter me. “I need you too,” he replied, and his expression clouded over for a second. “Too much.”

I wrapped my legs around his waist and bucked him forward.

Ryan slid into me, parted my folds and pierced the warmth between my legs.

“Fuck,” he said. “You’re so wet.”

“Uh-huh.” I placed pressure on his ass with my heels. “More.”

He entered me, pressed himself deeper and deeper, and pleasure sharpened with pain. He was too big, but I didn’t care. I wanted all of him. Every inch, vein, curve. God, I wanted to devour him and to be devoured.

“Yes,” I hissed. My nipples brushed against his chest. “Oh God, yes.”

He drew himself out, then pounded into my pussy again, no hesitation this time. “Chanel, you’re so wet. You’re so tight.”

“Again.” I was insistent. I wasn’t in control of this moment and I didn’t care. I grasped both of my breasts and massaged, growling. I’d transformed into an animal for him.

He thrust into me again, to the hilt, and we both cried out. He pulsed inside me, but didn’t explode, quite yet. “Turn around,” he said, and pulled out.

My pussy begged for more. I followed his command and lay on my front, elbows tucked beneath me.

He brushed my hair from the back of my neck, then bit the skin, hard.

“Oh God,” I cried.

Ryan forced himself inside me again, and slapped my ass, once. This was the dirtiest it’d ever been for me, and I loved it. I loved every second of him filling me.

I gripped the sheets and looked over my shoulder at him. Caught sight of his abdomen muscles rippling with every thrust. My eyes rolled back in my head.

He grabbed my hip and lifted me off the bed, then reached around, fingers searching. He found my clit and circled it, matching the pace with his motion.

I bit my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. “Oh yeah.”

“That good?”

“So good I want to come,” I whispered, between huffed breaths.

“Hmm, I want you to come,” he said. “I want you to come for me.” He increased the pace, softened his touch on that raw nerve-ending, driving me to the brink. “Come for me, Chanel.”

I jerked against him, shaking beneath the building pressure. I shut my eyes and a whimper escaped me.

“Come. For. Me.”

“Ryan,” I cried out, and crested the brink. Electricity shot through me, the combination of his dick filling me, stroking me, and the jolts of pure pleasure from my clit was too much. My mind blanked out. There was nothing but the moment.

I crashed over the edge. My folds clenched around him, massaging his cock, pleading wordlessly for his juices.

“Fuck, I can feel it,” he said, and his throat closed around the last word.

He hardened inside me. Grew even more, if that was possible, then jammed into my pussy, one, two, three times. His dick throbbed, and he emptied himself into me in five fantastic squirts, each matching the last throes of my own orgasm.

His fingers dug into my hips. A feral cry born from pleasure.

Finally, he collapsed beside me, eyes shut, breathing hard. “Fuck,” he said, and palmed his forehead. “Holy fuck.” Ryan dragged me closer, positioned me on his chest, and then encircled me in his arms.

“Amazing,” I whispered.

But he was already gone, carried away on a tide of sleep and satisfaction. I fell asleep to the beating of his heart.