Beautiful Player

  She ran her hands down my chest and wrapped them around my cock through my boxers, giving me a slow, hard squeeze. “I like watching you.”

  Groaning, I managed to say, “I like when you watch me. I can’t think straight when you have those crazy gray eyes on me.”

  “Please . . .”

  “Now let go so you can watch my mouth.”

  “Will,” she said, voice shaking.

  “Yeah?”

  “After this? Please don’t break me.”

  I paused, searching her expression. She’d sounded scared, but her face was only hunger.

  “I won’t,” I said, kissing down her neck, over her breasts, sucking, nipping. I moved farther down her body, and her thighs shook as I pushed them apart, blowing a soft stream of air across her heated flesh.

  She propped herself up on her elbows again, and I gave her one more smile before dipping my head and opening my mouth over her sweet slide of skin. My eyes rolled closed at the heat of her, and I groaned, sucking gently.

  With a shaky cry, her head fell back, hips arching from the bed. “Oh God.”

  I smiled into her, licking up one side and down the other before covering her clit with my tongue, circling over and over and over.

  “Don’t stop,” she whispered.

  I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. I added my fingers, sliding them lower to where she was wettest and sweetest, and the heavy drag of my touch as I pushed two fingers into her caused her to fall back, reach blindly for the headboard. As I watched, she turned her head, pulled the pillowcase between her teeth, tugging. Tiny sounds of pleading misery and pleasure slipped from her lips and I did everything I could to not let up on the intensity of it for a single fucking second.

  She was right there, hovering at the edge. Fucking her with two fingers, I pushed them deep, sucking her so hard my cheeks hollowed, staring up the length of her body at her fucking perfect breasts and long neck. With a twist of my wrist, she arched off the mattress, pushing into my mouth. Hanna let out a cry again and again as she contracted around my fingers.

  One.

  I was so hard I was practically fucking the mattress, and I could feel the tightening of the tendons in her thighs, relished the way her sounds became strained and higher and her hands reached down, threading into my hair and fuck, she started to rock into me, legs wide and hips fast, unself-consciously fucking my face for several long, perfect minutes. Oral sex had never felt so much like fucking as it did with this woman, and I gave into it, wild and wide open, roughly devouring her.

  With a cry she came again, sweet and hot, her hands pulling so hard on my scalp I thought I might come right along with her. I couldn’t close my eyes, couldn’t for one second look away from the sight above me on the bed. I sucked and sucked on the silk of her skin, completely fucking lost in the feel of her.

  “Please,” she gasped, legs shaking and eyes as dark and heavy as I’d ever seen them. She pushed up on one elbow, leaving the other pulling at my hair. “Come up here.”

  I pushed my boxers down, dragging the weight of my cock against her leg as I slid up her body, tasting, licking the dip of her belly button, the rise of her breasts, the tight pull of her nipples.

  I wanted to fuck every part of her: the valley between her breasts and the sweet fullness of her mouth, her round backside, and her soft, capable hands. But right now I wanted only to slide into the warmth of her sex. Her legs spread wider as she reached for her bedside table, for a box of condoms. I stared at the flush blooming across her chest, absently pulling along the length of my cock, until I registered she was extending the box to me.

  “Let’s just start with one.” I chuckled.

  Pushing the box into my hand, she nodded, eyes wide and pleading.

  “So get one out,” I growled.

  “I don’t know how to put it on,” she whined sweetly, fingers fumbling to open the packaging. She opened it messily, cardboard ripping wide open, and a snake of condoms spilled out onto her stomach.

  I tore a single packet from the train and handed it to her, pushing the others onto the bed beside her. “It’s not complicated. Take it out, roll it down my dick.”

  Her hands shook, and I hoped it was anticipation rather than nerves but I was quickly relieved when she reached for me, hungrily, and covered the head of my cock with latex.

  But I knew immediately it was on the wrong way; it wouldn’t unroll.

  She realized it after several painful seconds, tossing it away with a little growl and a “damnit!” before grabbing another packet.

  I was hard and swollen and so fucking ready I could feel my teeth grinding as she pulled the second condom out, studying it closely, and this time put it on the right way. Her hands were warm and her face was so close to my cock, I could feel her excited breath on my thighs.

  I needed to fuck her.

  She unrolled it awkwardly, fingers too tentative and light, and the whole process seemed to take an eternity. She slid it over me in tiny increments as if I were made of glass and not about to fuck her so hard the bed would drop into the apartment below us.

  When she reached the base of my cock, she exhaled in relief, lying back and pushing her hips to me. But with an evil smile, I pulled the condom off and tossed it away.

  Gritting my teeth through my agony, I told her, “Again. Don’t be so tentative. Put the condom on my dick so I can fuck you.”

  She stared up at me, silver eyes full of confusion. And finally, they cleared as if she’d been able to hear my thoughts: I don’t want you to have a single second of uncertainty. I am as hard as I have ever been in my life, I just sucked your pussy until you were screaming, and I’m not fucking delicate.

  With her eyes on mine, she lifted the package to her teeth, tore it open, and pulled out the roll of latex. Feeling the shape, she turned it in her hand, rolled it down my length smoothly, quickly, giving me a rough squeeze at the base. She slid her hand down lower, pulled gently on my balls, and then slid her hand to my inner thigh.

  “Good?” she whispered, stroking the sensitive skin there, no smile, no frown, simply needing to know.

  I nodded, reaching to run my thumb over her cheek. “You’re perfect.”

  With a relieved smile she leaned back and I followed, sliding through the heat of her sex, teasing her, teasing myself, and fuck, I was dizzy with how much I wanted her. My hips were tense, ready to arch and thrust, spine already itching with the need to explode inside this woman.

  I was unprepared for the feeling of my bare chest fully over hers, her thighs slipping around my hips. It was too much. Hanna was too much.

  “Put me inside you.”

  She gasped, slipping her hand between us; I hadn’t given her much space. I was lying heavily on her, warm skin to warm skin, but she found me, guided me up until I could feel the dip of her entrance, and then she led me higher, slipping and teasing my cock over the slick rise of her clit, the soft warm folds of her sex.

  “I might be rough.”

  She exhaled a burst of air, breathlessly telling me, “Good. Good.”

  Pushing onto my hands, I watched as she rubbed me over her skin. Her eyes fell closed and a small moan slipped from her. “It’s just . . . it’s been a while,” she whispered.

  I pulled my eyes up to her face, watching her lick her lips, her lashes flutter open so she could look down at the space between us, watch herself play with me.

  “How long?” I asked.

  She blinked back up at me again, her hand stilling between us. “About three years.” Her forehead wrinkled slightly as she said, “I’ve had sex with five guys but probably only had sex about eight times. I really don’t know what I’m doing, Will.”

  I swallowed, bending to kiss her jaw. “Maybe I won’t be so rough then,” I whispered, but she laughed, shaking her head.

  “I don’t want you to be gentle, either.”

  I looked at her breasts, her belly, where she held me between her legs. I wanted to feel her bare skin on my cock. I’d
never in my life had sex without a condom and wanted to feel her so much it hardened me further. “I’ll make it good,” I spoke into the skin of her neck. “Just let me feel you.”

  Hanna jerked beneath me, pressing me into her opening, her eyes fluttering closed as I shifted forward.

  A hot flush crawled up her neck and her lips parted in a sweet sigh. It was overwhelming for me to watch her process what we were about to do, and I could see the moment when it happened, when it really hit her that we were about to have sex. She opened her eyes again, and her gaze fell to my lips and went softer, calmed momentarily from the frenzy. She ran her hands up my chest and cupped my neck, whispering, “Hey.”

  That look, that tenderness in her eyes, made me realize for the first time what was happening to me: I was falling in love.

  “Hey,” I rasped, bending to kiss her.

  It was a relief so enormous it wrung the air from my lungs, and I deepened the kiss, wondering whether she could feel from my touch that I had just put a name to what we were doing—making love—or if she simply tasted her sex on my tongue, and didn’t understand that my entire world had just spun free of its programmed orbit.

  I pulled my face back but pushed my hips forward, aching to feel the softness of her body fully pressed to mine; I just wanted to get inside her and stay deep.

  Fuck.

  Good, hot, holy fuuuck.

  She looked up at me as I slid deeper, but she no longer seemed to be able to see my face. Her eyes were glazed, overwhelmed, and tiny little inward gasps accompanied her every inhale. A tight twinge of pain passed over her face. I was only a few inches in, and it was tight, but it was so fucking good.

  I heard my own voice come out but it sounded faraway: “Open up for me, Plum. Move with me.”

  Hanna relaxed, lifting her legs higher up her sides so I slid in deeper, and we both let out a taut moan. She gave her hips an experimental roll, pulling me fully inside, and the sensation of her warm thighs pressed to my hips caused me to let out a loud grunt.

  “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” she whispered, stilling below me.

  “I know.” I kissed her jaw, her cheek, the corner of her lips.

  She nodded, pushing up, unconsciously telling me with her body that she needed me to move.

  I pulled back, starting an easy rhythm, getting lost in the feel of her warmth. I would pick up my pace, sucking savagely on her neck, growing wild and heated and then slow, and eventually stop, kissing her deeply, relishing the way her hands explored my back, my ass, my arms, my face.

  “You okay?” I asked, moving—but slowly—again. “Not too sore?”

  “I’m good,” she whispered, turning into my hand when I swept some damp hair off her forehead.

  “You look so fucking perfect under me.”

  I wanted to build the need in her, make her go off like a bomb when she finally came with me inside her like this. She started to shake when I sped up, but growled in tight frustration when I slowed again. But I knew she trusted me, and I wanted to show her how fucking good it could be if there was no rush, no need to do anything but this for hours, and hours.

  I kissed her, sucked on her tongue, stole every one of her sounds into my mouth, swallowing them like a greedy fucking bastard. I loved her hoarse noises, how often she said please, how much she let me drive what we were doing. The reality of her, sweaty and pliable beneath me, ate away at my calm, and I shifted from lazy pushing into quicker, hungrier thrusts. She answered with mirrored movements of her hips, arching into me, and I knew this time she was close and I couldn’t stop or slow.

  “Feel good?” I ground out, pressing my face to her neck.

  She nodded, unable to answer, hands gripping my ass and fingernails digging sharply in my flesh. I pulled her leg up, pushing her knee to her shoulder and let go, fucking her as fast and hard and close to her body as I could.

  It was wild, unreal, explosive the way her orgasm built beneath her skin first as a flush, and then a tightening of her muscles until she was shaking, and sweaty and begging unintelligible words beneath me, preparing to come.

  “That’s it,” I whispered, struggling to hold back my own release even as it itched low in my belly. “Fuck, Plum, you’re right there . . .”

  I watched her eyes squeeze closed, her mouth open, and her body bow off the bed as she screamed in climax. I moved through it, giving her every single second of pleasure I could possible wring from her body.

  Her arms fell away, leaden, and I propped myself up on my hands, looking down at where I moved in her, feeling her eyes on my face.

  “Will,” she exhaled, and I heard the languid glee in her voice. “My God.”

  “Fuck, it’s so good. You’re so wet.”

  She reached up, slid her finger into my mouth so I could taste her sweetness. I moved one hand between us, rubbing her clit, knowing she was going to be sore soon, but needing to feel her come around me one more time.

  After only a few minutes she arched, hips rocking faster with me. “Will . . . I . . .”

  “Shh,” I whispered, watching my hand move over her, my cock slide in and out. “Give me one more.”

  I closed my eyes, my mind diving down into pure sensation: her quivering thighs all around me, the rhythmic tightening of her pussy as she came again with a hoarse, surprised cry. I cut the last chain of my self-control, hitting deeper and harder, prolonging her release with my thumb pressed to her clit. Hanna’s head was thrown back into the pillow, hands on my ass, pulling me forward while she rocked up into me. Her eyes were squeezed shut, lips parted, and all around her head, her hair was a wild mess on her pillow. I’d never seen anything more beautiful in my life.

  She dragged her nails up my back, watching my face, fascinated. The sensation was too much: her rough touch, soft body beneath, and her wide-eyed, fascinated study.

  “Tell me it feels good,” she whispered, lips swollen and wet, cheeks flushed, hair matted with sweat.

  “So good,” I hissed in a rush. “I can’t . . . I can’t fucking think straight.”

  Her nails pushed down, in a rough pinch and in a flash I knew with the pain of her nails and sweet pleasure of her body wet and squeezing me, I wasn’t going to last. Pleasure flooded my veins, hot and frantic.

  “Harder,” I begged.

  She curled into me, biting down my shoulder to my chest. “Come,” she gasped, dragging her nails possessively down my back. “I want to feel you come.”

  It was as if I’d been plugged into an outlet, every inch of my skin alive and buzzing with heat. I stared down at her: breasts moving with the force of my thrusts, skin sweaty and perfect, angry red bite marks from my teeth all over her neck, shoulders, and jaw. But when I looked up and met her eyes, I lost it. She was staring at me and it was her—Hanna, this girl I saw every morning and fell in love with a little bit more every single time she opened her mouth.

  It was so fucking real. With a loud shout, I collapsed on her, bucking wildly and flooded with a pleasure so intense I barely registered the warmth of her arms around my shoulders, the press of her kiss to my neck when I stilled on top of her, or the way she whispered, “Stay on top of me like this forever.”

  “Don’t ever stop being so fucking open,” I murmured, pulling my gaze to her face. “Don’t stop asking for what you want.”

  “I won’t,” she whispered. “I got you tonight, didn’t I?”

  And just that simply, I was claimed.

  Chapter Eleven

  I woke to the shifting of the mattress, the sound of springs as Will climbed out of bed.

  Dim, blue light seeped through the window and I blinked into the darkness, trying to make out the shape of objects nearby—the doorway, my dresser, his silhouette disappearing through the bathroom door.

  Without switching on a light, I heard the water start, the shower door opening and closing again. I considered joining him but seemed unable to move: my muscles felt like rubber, my body heavy and sinking into the mattress. Ther
e was a deep, unfamiliar ache between my legs and I stretched, squeezing my thighs together to feel it again. To remember. Now my room smelled of sex and Will and I could feel myself grow dizzy from it, from his proximity and the thought of so much of his naked skin just on the other side of the wall. Arms, legs, a stomach like granite. What exactly was the protocol here? Was I lucky enough that he’d come back and we’d do it all over again? Is that how this worked?

  My thoughts drifted to Kitty and Kristy and I wondered whether last night was just like all the other nights he’d spent with numerous other women. If he held them the same way, made the same sounds, offered the same promises of how good he’d make them feel. Will didn’t spend every night with me, but we did spend a lot of them together. When did he see them? A part of me wanted to ask, so I could know the specifics of how he slotted all of us into his life. But a bigger part of me didn’t, not really.

  I ran my hand through my tangled hair and thought of last night: of Dylan and our disastrous date, of Will, and how it felt to realize he’d been just outside my apartment. Worrying. Waiting. Wanting. Of the things we’d done and how he’d made me feel. I’d never known sex could be like that: both hard and soft and alternating between the two for what felt like forever. It was wild; his hands and teeth left me deliciously bruised, and there were moments I thought I might break into a million pieces if I couldn’t get him even deeper into me.

  The familiar squeak of the faucet sounded above the pounding spray and I turned my head toward the door. The water slowed before the shower fell silent, and I listened as he stepped out, pulled a towel from the rack on the wall, and dried himself off.

  I couldn’t pull my eyes away as he walked out, his naked body moving through a slice of moonlight. Sitting up, I crawled to the edge of the bed. He stopped just in front of me, his cock lengthening as I stared.

  Will reached up, running his fingers carefully through my tangled hair before drawing a line down the side of my face and, finally, tracing my lips with his fingertip. He didn’t duck down to look me in the eye. It was as if he knew I was studying him. As if he wanted me just to look.