Accuse

  Renata isn’t shy—at least not when it comes to sex.

  When she removes her fingers from her mouth, they’re shiny and glistening with moisture.

  “Spread your legs nice and wide,” I say, my voice rough with anticipation and lust. “I want to watch you make yourself come.”

  “Sir, yes, sir,” she says, saluting smartly, mimicking a good soldier. “And I’m going to watch you stroke that bad boy between your legs while I do.”

  My breath catches as she spreads her legs, raises her bent knees and puts her feet up onto the edge of the bed. Her thighs are parted wide—she’s fully exposed to me, just the way I want her.

  I inhale, smelling her heady, musky scent. Utterly turned-on, Renata drips, she’s soaking wet with arousal. Despite my history, she wants me.

  My mouth waters as I wonder what she tastes like.

  My God, she’s the sexiest woman I’ve ever known.

  Spellbound, I lean forward. I’ve never before seen anything like her bare, feminine flesh. I’m fascinated by her vagina, her soft, puffy folds and her erect clitoris. The way her hips curl upwards, a tantalizing hint of the small, puckered ring of her anus is in view.

  I’m mesmerized by the sight.

  I’ve never, ever seen a woman so closely and so absolutely displayed.

  I've only had sex in dark alleys where I never saw anything. Copulation was hard, fast and over. I treated sex as if I were ripping off a bandage, get it over fast to get past the pain associated with it.

  I’ve been missing out.

  I plan to make up for it now.

  Renata’s gaze remain fixed on me, while I track her every movement. She trails her moistened fingers down her body until they circle her clit, spreading the wetness that has collected there.

  “Talk to me, Grant,” Renata says. “Tell me what you want. Tell me what you need.”

  My attention centers on her slick, knowing fingers. I bite back a moan as she slowly pushes them inside her slit. She begins to circle and stroke herself, working her greedy, tight hole with delicious, tantalizing allure.

  From time to time she moves her fingers upward, circling her clit, working it in a sexy, erotic rhythm. While she pleasures herself she stares at me. Her heated gaze sets my body afire, humming with raw lust and arousal.

  Desire surges between us, creating urgency and need.

  Even the air in this room seems charged with passion.

  I get the biology thing—sure. I’m a male, genetically programmed with an imperative need to mate. But what we have together isn’t only biology, or even chemistry. What is this crazy longing? I’ve never craved anyone to the degree that I crave her.

  She stares at my erection. “Do you want to put that great big cock in here?” she asks, pushing a finger in her slit and temptingly circling her entrance.

  I curse under my breath, but I also answer, “Hell, yes. Not tonight, but soon. Soon I’m going to pound myself deep inside that sexy pussy of yours.”

  “Mmm, yes,” she sighs.

  “Keep working yourself,” I order her. “You're so fucking hot. I want to see what happens as you get close to orgasm.”

  Renata’s eyes widen at my command—I’ve surprised her, but she does as I tell her to. I’m supposed to be voicing my fantasies, but I don’t care. I stare at her sex with single-minded intensity, learning the feminine shape and texture of her.

  I want to see this.

  I need to see this.

  “Good,” I encourage her, “that’s perfect. You look amazing.”

  Time passes as I watch her masturbate, circling and teasing her clit. Color blooms on her chest, face and neck. Renata’s creamy flesh flushes a delightful shade of pink from her arousal. There’s a sheen of sweat on her skin and her sex glistens, looking incredibly sensitive and swollen with need.

  From time to time her sex twitches.

  Watching her blows me away.

  I’m captivated because I’ve never seen anything like this before, yet it’s so much more than that. It’s because this is Renata. She’s already become so important to me. I care about her—she’s extraordinary.

  I want to know everything about her, especially how she pleasures herself. I pay close attention, noticing what gets her off. Someday soon, maybe my fingers will be what drive her to completion.

  “Pinch your nipples,” I tell her. “I want to see you squeeze and twist them.”

  “Mmm,” she replies, complying immediately. Both nipples are puckered, erect and tight. “I can’t wait to have your hands on me,” she purrs. “This would feel so much better if you were caressing me.”

  “What do they feel like? Your nipples and breasts?”

  Her eyes widen—I’ve snapped her out of her sensual fog. For a long moment she just stares at me with a mixture of curiosity and surprise.

  “What do they feel like?” she asks.

  “Yes. You know, when you’re turned on like this.”

  Understanding lights her expression, she can tell I’m genuinely interested. “My breasts are heavy, full and tight. They're sensitive and they ache. Touching them eases the ache and as for my nipples? They’re hard and engorged with blood—they tingle. When I pinch them it hurts, but in a good way. My breasts and nipples need to be stroked, licked and sucked—even bitten. They need a man’s touch. They need you. I ache for you, Grant.”

  “I see,” I murmur, gazing at her speculatively. My lips curve up into a slow smile, but I make no move to touch her breasts. “Sorry to interrupt you. Keep on pleasuring yourself.”

  “Tease,” she protests, but she isn’t angry. Her laugh is quick and easy as she again begins working on her wet sex.

  How can she be so comfortable stretched out before me like this? Masturbating is such a private, intimate act. I wonder if she’s pleasured herself in front of others before—not that it’s any of my business. A strange, twisting pang of emotion washes through me. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was jealous—which makes no sense at all.

  I have no claim on Renata Koreman. We aren’t married. We aren’t even dating.

  Yet, I wish she was mine…

  Her eyes are dark, dilated and heavy-lidded as she continues to play with that swollen nub of nerves. I can’t believe what her clit looks like—it’s become huge, engorged with blood, stiff and standing upright. It’s begging for attention, just like her erect nipples. Every erotic zone she has swells—tight with building sexual need.

  Renata’s body is reaching for me.

  “Good,” I whisper hoarsely. “Don’t stop. Show me how you make yourself come.”

  “Yes,” she sighs. “Yes.”

  My pulse spikes as I watch the tip of her pink tongue slides over her lips. The woman is absolutely soaked… flooded with desire.

  Something primal wakes from deep within me—a familiar, confident part of myself. In work and in life I can be assertive. I’ve never particularly been like that with women. Or have I?

  A memory of fucking a nameless prostitute up against a wall flashes through my mind. I’ve always been able to tell a hooker what I want and how I want it. Actually, even then I’ve been in control—I merely limited my activities.

  Not now, however.

  Now I want what I want.

  Renata is making faint, sexy sounds, kind of a cross between soft sighs and moans. Every muscle she has is taut and ready. Her pelvis arches and her hips tilt upwards like a flower reaching toward the sun. Renata’s dark inner core is searching for a man’s cock.

  “You’re really close, aren’t you?” I ask. I don’t know how I know it with such certainty—I just do.

  “Yes, yes,” she says as her fingers work faster. “I’m right there—”

  “Stop masturbating. Stop now,” I order her.

  An incoherent whimper of protest comes from her lips. Her busy hand pauses… waiting, trembling.

  “I want you to use the fingers of both hands to spread your pussy wide open for me,” I say. “I need to see
what you look like. I want to see it all. I need to see everything.”

  Biting her lip, a frown on her face, Renata says nothing but she does as I ask.

  She holds the outer lips of her pussy open wide and I marvel at how engorged and plump her sex is. Her flesh is pink, soft and swollen. Her slit and thighs glisten with her slick essence. The sheets are damp from her arousal.

  I lean in closer, studying her intently. I’m in no hurry.

  A long, still moment hangs between us.

  Renata shifts restlessly and she makes a sound, something like a helpless whimper. Does she enjoy the very close, personal attention I’m paying her? Does she like being on display?

  I stare, totally focused—totally fascinated.

  I intend to look at her for as long as I like. Renata’s sweet, feminine body is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Her tight, closed channel has opened like a budding flower. It’s a gaping ring—it’s grown larger. It started out so much smaller.

  I swear that her empty, feminine hole is begging for it.

  Begging for me.

  Fuck, I really want to give it to her. The way I feel, I’d fuck her so hard she wouldn’t be able to walk for a week.

  Chapter 19.

  “We cannot selectively numb emotions, when we numb the painful emotions, we also numb the positive emotions.”

  ― Brené Brown

  ~~~

  Grant Wilkinson

  Renata continues to hold the folds of her sex wide open so I that can see everything she has. Her sweet, feminine musk perfumes the air. I inhale sharply, savoring the heady scent of her arousal. She smells divine and her dark hole glistens. I want to put my tongue right at her entrance and push it inside.

  I get down on my knees before her, still concentrating all of my attention between her legs.

  “Christ,” I whisper harshly, releasing a breath of air that I didn’t know I was holding. “You’re so beautiful.”

  I've never touched or tasted a woman. Except for once with Renata, all of my sexual experiences have been quick and hidden by darkness.

  The prostitutes I’ve been with used lube because they weren’t turned on. Renata’s turned on. In fact, she’s drenched.

  Renata shifts restlessly.

  “Don’t move,” I growl, surprising myself with the forcefulness of my command.

  I swear that her erect clit is actually pulsing. How fucking hot is that? Bending as close as I can without actually touching her, I blow a long stream of warm air on the sensitive, exposed flesh of her sex.

  “Oh my God!” she cries.

  Renata’s body flexes in an involuntary spasm, sending a blast of heat through me. I watch, fascinated, as a wave of goosebumps rises across her skin. Her hips arch, her legs shake and she trembles with the pleasure of her near release.

  I drink her in, the sight, the smell and the sound of her uneven breathing. The woman is clearly in a state of erotic desperation. This is the first time I’ve felt so completely in control during sex. What I’m doing with Renata—it isn’t about me.

  A heady rush of joy flows through me—crashes through me. I experience a torrent of sensations as powerful as the Mississippi after weeks of rain. I’m giving her pleasure, yet her pleasure is mine. I love it! This is so much more potent than any sexual experience I’ve previously had. This is erotic and sensual. Until now it’s only been sex, nothing more.

  It’s wonderful! And I’m not going to let it end anytime soon.

  My heavy erection pulses. I stroke it, to ease the ache—but I don’t care about that. It’s not that I don’t want to fuck her, I do. Mind and body, I want her fiercely. The woman is smoldering—she makes me hot as hell. Yet, the only interest my dick holds for me right now is how it affects Renata.

  She is the object of my complete focus.

  “You want my cock, don’t you?” I ask.

  “Yes! Grant, yes… I want it so badly!” she gasps shamelessly, with half-closed eyes and ragged breaths. Her fingers tremble as they hold her folds wide apart for me, but she doesn’t move them.

  “Then ask me nicely. Tell me what you want.”

  “Grant, will you please make me come?” she asks in a voice thick with desperation.

  “Yes, but I want to play with you first.”

  Her tormented wail of disappointment fires my blood. I gaze at her, drinking her in while floating on a huge, euphoric high. I’ve aroused her and I’m giving her pleasure. In pleasing her, I’ve never been so pleased in my life

  She’s lovely—so wanton and utterly frantic. Open and exposed, Renata has willingly given herself to me.

  In this perfect moment, she is completely mine. I own her—body and soul. A wicked smile tugs at my lips.

  I also own her orgasms.

  There’s no way she gets to climax unless and until I allow it.

  What a rush!

  I’ve never ridden a woman bareback before and Renata’s given me permission to do so with her. We’ve both been tested and she’s on birth control. I long to bury myself deep within her heat. What will it be like to have my naked flesh rubbing against hers?

  I fist my cock while I imagine taking her without a condom. She’d be soft and tight, maybe like heated velvet or silk.

  “Show me how you finger-fuck yourself,” I growl with savage need. “Fuck your empty hole for me.”

  Renata’s lips part and she moans loudly just from hearing my command. Intense pleasure fills me as she drives two digits immediately inside of her greedy opening, penetrating herself in an action that mimics intercourse.

  “Yes, that's good—very good. Now, play with your clit. That’s right,” I murmur, pumping my cock harder and faster as she immediately obeys my command. “I like seeing that. You're so fucking hot!”

  Something’s changed between us. It's hard to define, but it's there. What is it? There’s been a shift in power and authority. I was uncertain and ashamed, but now I’m confident.

  Up until now, I'd only give in to my base urges when they proved too to be much for me. Partners were nameless, faceless and nondescript. A woman was a hole that I paid to climax into. Afterwards, I'd be filled with revulsion at what I'd done, hating myself for my weakness.

  I never allowed myself to enjoy the act.

  Fuck! No wonder. It was always so empty and shameful.

  In life and particularly during sex, I cut off from emotion. I refused to connect to others as a form of self-protection. Heart and soul, I shut down. In this moment, I don’t feel any of that.

  In this moment, I’m completely absorbed in Renata. I swear I feel what she feels. We’re so close—there’s no distance between us at all. We are connected.

  It’s her.

  It’s us.

  Renata brings me to this place—she gives me peace and silences my mind. I have no doubts, no shame. I’m not second-guessing myself. I’m focused on Renata and her pleasure is my own.

  This, what we’re doing now, it’s not about me.

  The woman is lost, dazed by lust. She’s desperate. Mindlessly, she begs and pleads, wanton in her desire for me. I’m intoxicated with sensations I've never known before.

  Raw need claws at me, but for now, I ignore it. My body craves her. My heart races, but I’m the one in control. I’m the one who tells her what to do and what I want.

  I like it. I like it a lot.

  “You’re very, very wet,” I say.

  “Yes!”

  “Why are you so wet?” I ask innocently, while enjoying her frustration and pent-up need. I'm drunk on my newfound power, and I’m loving every second of it.

  “Because you’re driving me crazy!” she bites out.

  “You’re going to come very hard, aren’t you?”

  “Hell, yes!”

  “Not yet. You can’t come yet. Not until I allow you to,” I warn her darkly.

  “What?” she wails. “Seriously? C’mon, Grant.”

  “No.”

  “Why?” she whines.


  I frown and consider my answer. I need to slow the pace down so I can savor this time with her. I don’t want to miss a thing.

  “Because I want to see it and feel it when you do,” I explain.

  “Fine!” she snaps, and I grin at how pissed-off she is. “Enough already! You can see and feel it right now. Please, may I come?”

  “No.”

  Renata bites back a scream of frustration. I bite back a laugh.

  Her features are pinched with effort. Both of her hands have stopped moving so she doesn’t climax. Snarky as she is, I can tell she’s also loving this. So am I. I’m keeping her just on the razor’s edge of orgasm. It’s a sexy, erotic form of torture. Watching her experience this excruciating bliss is fun.

  “Spread your beautiful pussy open for me again,” I tell her.

  An inarticulate sound of misery comes from her throat and this time I almost laugh. I have no idea why she’s going along with this, but she is. The poor woman is dripping. She’s hungry for my cock, but she’ll settle for sexual release.

  “That’s right. Use both hands. Good,” I say, hypnotized by the sight of her. If anything, her sweet sex is even more red and swollen. “You really want me to fuck you, don’t you?”

  “Yes, please!” she whimpers, a feminine sound of need.

  Renata’s whole body is quivering with need. She’s fighting her desire—trying not to orgasm, but she keeps holding herself open for me, exactly as I’ve ordered her to do.

  “Not yet,” I say, and I mean it.

  Chapter 20.

  "Life in Lubbock, Texas taught me two things: One is that God loves you and you're going to burn in hell. The other is that sex is the most awful, filthy thing on earth, and you should save it for someone you love."

  — Butch Hancock

  ~~~

  Grant Wilkinson

  “Look at me, darlin’,” I say, trying to hide the overwhelming surge of love I feel for her with a tone of command.