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Nara
After my sexy session with Brodie on the secret room overlooking the Spinsters party, I wanted more.
And then there was his apartment. Old-timey casement windows stretched the length of every exterior wall, their slim metal frames painted a lumpy black from years of coats of paint. The effect was utterly charming. An open kitchen sat in a far corner, and the rest of the first floor was so large there were two different seating areas and a dining room.
After a couple sips of my scotch, I was ready for the bedroom.
I was not usually the aggressor, but something about this man did me in. I wasn’t in the market for a boyfriend or to even start dating for that matter, but just looking at him made my heart pound, and the way he looked back at me made me woozy.
It was as if he’d never seen a woman before, which of course, wasn’t true—but without even trying, he made me feel…special.
Yes, that’s what it was. Like I was really something. Who wouldn’t love that?
Because his place was a loft, of course there was a set of stairs that led to another open space. Not only did I want more of him, I was dying to see the rest of the apartment—I’d never been in a loft. So I got bold, and led him by the hand.
The entire second floor was a wide-open bedroom overlooking the lower level. His unmade king-size bed was covered with what looked like the world’s fluffiest down comforter, and a sofa and chair faced a wall-mounted TV in the corner. A grouping of framed photos on the wall drew me closer.
“Is that you?” I asked, pointing at a tall, lanky teenager who was handsome beyond his years while retaining the out-of-proportion puppy look so many adolescent boys wore.
“Yeah.” He laughed. “I was pretty damn awkward.”
“What? You?”
No way. Guys like him were never awkward. They were born to rule with their good looks and confidence.
“You probably had a gazillion girlfriends,” I told him.
I, on the other hand, did not have a single suitor in high school. Lots of sex, but sex does not a relationship make. I learned that fact young and I learned it the hard way.
He shook his head. “I had crushes. Typical summer romances. I married my college girlfriend.”
“You’ve been married? Really?”
“Yeah. We split after a year. We were too young. Too stupid.”
Another surprise.
I moved toward him. Gripping his shirt, I untucked it from his trousers, my hands flying to his powerful chest.
In my heels, I still had to look up to see him. When I did, his mouth came down hard on mine, crushing my lips with a fury that both scared and thrilled me.
I slipped his jacket from his shoulders and worked the buttons of his starched shirt. He pulled me against his hips, his giant hard-on pressing against my abdomen.
It was as if it was our first time, and that we hadn’t just fucked just an hour ago.
“You’re beautiful, Happy. So fucking beautiful,” he murmured in between kisses.
God, what this guy did to me. It should have been illegal.
I threw his shirt to the floor and my hands wandered to his strong back where I found his skin fevered. Almost too hot to touch.
Next, I went for his belt, my shaking hands bumping against the huge tent in his pants. He ran his own hands through my hair, grabbing fistfuls and burying his face in it.
He stood before me in his boxers, his perfect splay of chest hair winding down to that little line below his belly button, beyond which even greater treasures waited. I ran a finger along the waistband of his boxers, and his stomach muscles flexed as he gave a throaty growl.
I reached for the cheeks of his hard ass. I was desperate to feel as much of him as I could so I closed my eyes, running my hands over every inch of flesh within my reach.
With a flick of his wrist, my dress puddled around my feet again.
He backed me up to the bed until I had to sit on its edge. Hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers, he pushed them down his long, toned legs, his abs flexing as he bent and straightened.
His thick cock bounced in freedom, a drop of pre-cum hanging on its tip. Without meaning to, I moaned, again made dizzy by the pure masculine command in front of me.
“Taste me,” he murmured, reaching to unhook my strapless bra.
When he did, my tender breasts hung free, craving his attention. But that would have to wait.
I held his cock in my two hands, amazed once more by its velvety length and prominent crown. I drew it into my mouth, getting it nice and wet, taking the entire length until it hit the back of my throat. I forced myself to relax to avoid gagging, and looked up to see his head loll back from the pleasure.
His hands wandered to my shoulders for leverage, his hips rocking to meet my demanding hunger.
He stiffened more, stretching the recesses of my mouth. My lips pistoned over the length of his shaft, resting occasionally on his swollen head. There, I increased my suction to a point that drove him to shout my name.
I was shaking with the power of our exchange and sucked him harder, my cheeks hollowing from the force. Reaching a hand between my legs, I spread my slick cream over my hard clit, stroking it in time to my sucking.
His cock swelled and lengthened one last time.
“Suck me,” he growled and shot fiercely into my mouth.
I swallowed as best I could, the rest of his thick cum running down my chin and landing on my breasts.
He fucked my mouth with one last thrust and leaned to kiss the top of my head.
I’d given other guys head before, but it had never made me so hot I had to be forced to stop.
“God, baby. Look what you did to me.”
He tilted my chin up and I saw him dripping with perspiration, his hair soaked like he’d been out in the rain. He lifted me to standing with his strong arms and brought me to the bathroom where he wiped us both down with towels.
“C’mon. Under the covers,” he said, leading me to bed.
Pulling the comforter up, he flicked off his bedroom light and wrapped his arms around me from behind. I sank into the safety of his embrace, where we remained until morning.
