Page 16
Her eyes flare and her tongue comes out to swipe at her lower lip, but she doesn’t affirm or deny my words.
I decide to push harder, because one way or the other, I’m going to make her prove me right.
Releasing her face, I drop my hands to her hips, pulling her up hard against my erection. I dip my legs and tilt my h*ps up, grinding it against her pu**y.
A soft moan filters across her lips, and her eyes close.
“Want me to f**k you, Sweet? Want my c**k between your legs? Or do you just want to go out to dinner with me tonight? Your choice. ”
I hold myself still, waiting for her to just accept my damn dinner invitation and prove me right.
“I want you to f**k me,” she whispers as she slowly opens her eyes. “Right here… standing up, on the floor… I don’t care. ”
My body jerks in surprise, and I almost glare at her with skepticism. She returns my stare levelly, without a hint of hesitation or doubt.
Part of me… a small part, for sure… wants me to deny her and insist we go out tonight. But the vast majority of my body, my brain, my cock… it’s screaming at me to take her.
“Where did my little anti-heroine go?” I ask her in wonder.
“She’s decided to take a walk on the wild side,” she tells me evenly.
“Are you ready for my brand of filth?” I ask, and I can see a kernel of doubt in her eyes.
But she stiffens her spine, raises her chin, and says, “I’m ready. ”
I close my eyes, take a deep breath in, and release it out slowly. When I open them up again, I pin her with a dark smile. “You asked for it, Sweet. ”
As I drop to my knees before her, she gives a soft gasp when my fingers deftly start working at the button to her jeans and tug the fly open. I don’t even hesitate to push my hands into the waistband, pulling her jeans… snagging her panties along the way… dragging them down to mid-thigh. Grabbing her behind her legs and leaning forward, I stick my nose right between the juncture of her thighs and inhale deeply.
“You smell f**king intoxicating,” I murmur before dragging my tongue right up her center.
Savannah cries out in surprise, and her hands slam down on my shoulders to grip me hard. Yeah, she f**king smells great, and tastes even better.
Leaning back slightly, I look up at her to find her eyes squeezed shut tightly, her lower lip gripped hard between her teeth. I reach up and grab her hands from my shoulder, bringing them down to her pu**y while I watch her face.
“Hold yourself open for me, baby,” I whisper. Her eyes fly open, staring at me in bewilderment. Pushing her hands back toward her body, I give them a soft squeeze while I stare her in the eyes. “Do it. Spread yourself for me. ”
A strangled sound comes out of Savannah’s throat.
“Do it,” I order, my voice hoarse with desire as I release her hands.
Lowering my gaze, I watch as her slender fingers press against herself, pulling herself open… showing me all of her beautiful secrets. My c**k hardens to painful proportions.
My hands come back up and grab her by the hips. I lean forward while she stands there, her legs constrained by her jeans and underwear, but fully exposed to me as her hands clear the path for my tongue.
Pressing my mouth against her, I flick the end of my tongue against her clit, and she cries out. I give her a long, hard lick, and she cries again. She so f**king responsive that I bet I could make her come in a nanosecond, but I’m thinking I might save that pleasure for a rainy day. Moving my right hand over, I push it between her legs and slide my middle finger into her. She’s f**king dripping for me. Lust rages through my body, almost making me dizzy.
I can’t wait.
I jump to my feet, pull one of Savannah’s hands away, and mash it up against my cock, which is straining hard against my zipper. “See what you do to me?” I growl.
She gives me a glazed nod and tentatively squeezes, causing my h*ps to jam forward, seeking more contact from her.
Taking Savannah by the shoulders, I spin her around and then grab her around the waist, lifting her from the floor because her legs are encumbered by her jeans. I step forward just two paces, until I’m pressing her into the edge of the kitchen table. Thankfully, it’s huge and sturdy, and I’m not worried about it supporting our weight.
Gripping her by the back of the neck with one hand, I push her facedown onto the table. With the other hand, I bring it up between her legs from the back. I slip two fingers in her this time and feel her muscles contract around me, even as she shoves her ass backward, seeking more.
I feel frenzied… needful, and this is going way faster than I had imagined. I give her an out. “Are you okay? Want me to stop?”
Her head thrashes back and forth on the table, but I need to make sure. “Tell me to stop, Sweet. ”
“No,” she practically yells. “Don’t you dare. ”
Oh, f**k. No stopping this runaway freight train now.
I release my hold on her and undo my jeans, pushing them down and pulling my c**k out. Pushing in closer to her, I rub it as best I can against the back of her pu**y, not getting easy access because her legs are practically glued together by her jeans.
But I don’t have time to get her clothes off. My body is demanding relief… the type that I can only get from Savannah… at this very moment.
Not a moment longer.
I pick her up by the hips, lifting her off the floor, and dip my knees. My cock, which is hard as a rock and tilted upward, gets the perfect angle and I push in against her, past the silky skin of her thighs, and right to her wetness.
I hit the mark on the first try, feeling her slick warmth open up to me.
Lowering her back to the ground, I swiftly pump my h*ps up, slamming into her in one hard move, causing her to scream out.
Her voice is hoarse and raw. I thought for a minute I hurt her, were it not for the soft, “Yes,” she lets out at the end. But she proves to me she’s okay… more than… when she gyrates her hips, causing her internal muscles to massage my dick in an almost excruciatingly sensual way.
She is exquisite.
Beyond.
I can’t control myself, having never felt this burning need to push myself beyond all barriers. I pull back and slam back in, relishing in her cries as the kitchen table scoots forward a few inches. I do it again, and again, vaguely noting the way her fingernails scrabble against the wood of the table as she tries to claw at something.
My moans turn into grunts, my ass muscles contracting hard on every thrust into her. My fingers dig into her hips, and she cries out the sweetest words ever.
“More. ”
“Oh, God, Sweet… what are you doing to me?” I ask as I slam into her over and over again.
Her orgasm hits her fast and hard. I’m unprepared when her hands unclench, her palms lie flat on the table, and she pushes her chest up. Arching her back deeply, she throws her head back and groans as I feel her body stiffen and her pu**y clamp down hard on my cock.
And f**k… then I’m coming, so hard… so long.
I push into her one last time, grit my teeth, and unload every bit of depravity into her body, and then I come some more.
My body shudders from head to foot, and another wave of pleasure hits me as I continue to jet into her.
Savannah slumps to the table, and I realize my knees are shaking. I unclench my death grip from her hips, wincing when I see the red marks I’ve left behind. I bend over her, pressing against her body, and rest my chin on the back of her head.
We lay like that for what seems an eternity, our mutual breaths that were raging just a moment ago now starting to calm.
Lifting my head up, I kiss her on the back of the head, and then nuzzle into the hair at the back of her neck. “You okay?”
“Mmmm. Hmmm,” she moans softly. I can’t see it, but I can hear the smile on her face.
&n
bsp; “Will you go out to dinner with me tonight?” I ask her.
“Mmmm. Hmmm,” she responds, and I smile back.
14
What in the hell am I doing? Agreeing to go out to dinner with Gavin?
Earlier today—in his house—the way he took me.
That was it. It was supposed to be done, over. My itch scratched, his itch scratched. I could show him that I was so much more than what he thought and perhaps by doing so, I could prove to myself I had more grit than he gave me credit for.
What I didn’t count on was all of these emotions to swell through me. From the moment I told him I wanted him to f**k me—and yes, I’m still blushing red over that—to this moment, now, that I stand before my mirror, checking my hair and makeup before Gavin arrives to pick me up, I’ve been inundated with fears, insecurities, and doubts. What I did… with him… was absolutely not me.
I’m not that type of girl.
Never have been.
But I can’t deny that experience with Gavin was singularly the most thrilling thing that has ever happened to me in my life. I felt free, beautiful, desired, and sexy. I felt like I held power, even as I was slammed with apprehension when I gave him the go-ahead. It was scintillatingly delicious, and even as I sit here and tell myself that I’m not that type of woman… I want to do it again.
When Gavin finally lifted off my body, pulled away… pulled out, I felt loneliness. Then I felt the product of his desire sliding down my legs, and I was mortified and terrified that we had unprotected sex. I couldn’t believe that I never gave it a single thought. Not once during the entire time he was making love to… no, f**king me. I didn’t care. I kind of still don’t care, because had he taken the time to stop… put on a condom, the moment probably would have been broken. It would have been like a raging river slamming against a dam, and we would have most likely stopped once we regained our senses.
The fear of not feeling Gavin—of not giving into those desires and lust—outweighs my fear over having unprotected sex, and I want to bang my head against the sink for ever being so foolish. So stupid.
I had stood up quickly from the table and, even with shaky legs, managed to pull my underwear and jeans up, practically running into the bathroom to clean up. I stared in the mirror above his guest bathroom sink, admiring the flush in my face and the redness on my neck leftover from the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever felt in my life. And I didn’t feel too much regret.
When I walked out of the bathroom, feeling like I had more control over my feelings, Gavin was standing in the kitchen, drinking a bottle of water and watching me like a hawk. Whereas I felt a bit nervous and unsure, he looked like he wanted to eat me up, causing a low throb to start between my legs. He had held the bottle out to me, asking silently if I wanted a drink, but I shook my head and started for the laundry room.
“I’ll pick you up at seven tonight,” he said. “Text me your address. ”
I nodded and didn’t say anything in response, but rather went and folded his laundry. When I was done and came back into the kitchen, he was gone, and I didn’t see him the rest of the time I was there cleaning his house.
My front doorbell rings, bringing me out of my memories, and I stare at myself in the mirror. What is this evening going to hold? Is this a “thank you” dinner? A “thanks for letting me f**k you” type of thing? Or does Gavin want something more from me?
Do I want something more from him?
I don’t know the answer to that, but I do know my heart is racing with fear and excitement.
When I open the door, he’s standing there with his hands casually tucked in the pockets of his dark-washed jeans. He’s got on a dark gray sweater and a black leather jacket, making him look edgy and sinful as hell. His eyes rake down me and back up again, appreciation clear. “You look beautiful,” he says, and I try not to preen under his gaze.
He had said to dress casual for the night and I took him at his word, choosing a pair of boot-cut, dark denim jeans paired with a deep purple turtleneck. I matched a camel-colored, short-waisted, leather blazer along with matching boots in the same color. The finishing touch was a scarf of melded colors of purple, blue, green, and brown that I tied twice, but loosely, around my neck, so it draped about a quarter ways down my chest.