Two & a half years ago
We ride the elevator up to his apartment in silence, much like most of our drive here was spent.
We don’t need to talk. We both know what this is—one night together.
When we reach his floor, his hand falls to the small of my back as he steers us down the hallway. He doesn’t stop touching me, not even when he slips his key into the door and pushes it open. When we cross the threshold, I take my first breath in what feels like hours.
I’ve never gone home with a strange man before. When I met The Dick, it was through a mutual friend, and we went on five dates before we went back to his place. Before him, I’d only dated two guys, and neither was serious.
This…this feels different than anything ever before.
“How old are you?” I blurt out.
“Thirty-six.”
Holy…
“How old are you?”
I wring my hands. “Twenty-six.”
“Christ,” he mutters, and I’m sure he’s thinking the same things I am.
He’s ten years my senior.
He’s too old for me, much more experienced.
And yet, I don’t care.
I step toward him, reaching out and fitting my hands around his massive biceps. “I want this.”
He screws his eyes shut tight like he’s warring with himself over this new revelation.
Just when I think he’s about to shove me away and call me a ride, his hands find my hips, and I hear him mutter, “Screw it.”
Then his mouth is on mine.
The kiss is searing, and I swear I feel it down to my toes. His mouth ravages me, taking control and kissing me hard. Our tongues tangle together, and it’s wet and hot and everything I could have hoped for.
Before I know it, my back is pressed against a wall, and Smith is right there, shoving a knee between my legs. One hand cradles my head, the other digging into my waist, fingers beginning to dip into the waistband of my jeans.
He trails his lips down my chin, over my neck, nibbling and sucking at me until he reaches the swell of my breasts. When he realizes my shirt is in the way, he wastes no time peeling it off before placing me right back where I was. He buries his face in my chest, kissing at all the exposed skin before pulling a cup of my bra down.
He doesn’t ask. Doesn’t hesitate. Just covers my nipple with his mouth and sucks hard.
He uses his teeth and his tongue to tease until I’m pulling at his hair, needing him to move or do something else because I need something else. He catches my drift…and moves directly to my other nipple. He teases me just the same, pulling me to the edge of frustration before finally popping free.
With one hand, his eyes on mine, he undoes the button of my jeans, then slowly peels the zipper down. Just like before, he’s touching me without any preamble.
His hand slides into my jeans and inside my panties. He grazes over my clit, causing me to moan in pleasure, but he doesn’t stop. No—of course he doesn’t. He doesn’t quit until he has one finger pumping in and out of my drenched pussy.
He’s not inside me long before he pulls his finger free.
“Oh god,” I cry out. I can’t tell if it’s from pleasure or the pain of being so close to the edge and getting backed away yet again.
Then he’s pulling my jeans down my legs, only stopping to slide my shoes from my feet.
I’m standing before him in nothing but my underwear. My tits, swollen and wet, are hanging out of my bra, and there’s an obvious wet spot on my panties.
“Almost there,” he mutters, stepping into me.
He reaches up and pulls the ponytail holder from my hair, letting my long, red waves cascade around me. He steps back to admire his work, palming his hardened length through his jeans.
“Fucking perfect.”
His eyes slowly rake over me, taking in every single inch until I’m squirming beneath his heated gaze. There’s a fire in his eyes burning so hot I’m certain I’m going down in flames as I stand here.
“Do you like sucking cock, Emilia?” he asks quietly.
I swear my mouth waters at just the thought of it.
I nod, licking my lips.
“On your knees, then.”
I don’t argue. I drop to my knees, already knowing I’m going to love the sting I’ll feel on them tomorrow, and watch as he strips his shirt over his head, then undoes the button on his pants. He drags the zipper down, frees his cock, and waits.
When I reach forward for him, he shakes his head.
“Put them behind your back.”
I do.
“Good. Now come here.”
I scoot closer, the roughness of the tile edges digging into my skin.
“Open up, Emilia.”
I drop my jaw.
“Good girl.”
He guides his long, thick cock to my mouth, running the head of it back and forth along my tongue. I can already taste the saltiness of his pre-cum—and I already want more.
He gathers my hair up with one hand, pulling it tight and tipping my head back.
“I’m going to fuck your mouth. If at any point you want to stop, just grab my leg. Understand?”
I nod.
“Use your words, Emilia. I need confirmation.”
“I understand.”
“Good girl,” he says again, and I love the words just as much as before.
He makes good on his promise. He pumps his cock in and out of my mouth, slowly at first. Then, his movements get bolder…deeper. So deep he prompts my gag reflex a few times. When I react, he backs off, waiting for me to tap out.
I never do.
He pushes to the back of my throat over and over again, sometimes holding himself there, seeing how much I can take. I have no idea how long we do this for, how long he fucks my mouth, but I love every single second of it. I just wish I could touch myself; I’m aching so badly, need the release more than I’ve ever needed one in my entire life.
Like he can sense it, he pulls off, and we’re both gasping for air.
“Need to fuck you,” he says, pulling at my hair, tugging me off the floor.
He presses me face-first against the wall, pushing my hands flat and pulling my ass out.
“Don’t move.”
I wouldn’t dare.
I listen as he rustles around in his jeans, then wait as he rips open the condom. He grunts as he slides it down his length. I can’t see him, but I hear him move his hand over his cock a few times before I feel the blunt tip against my entrance.
He leans over me, his lips at my ear. “By the time I’m done with you, you’re going to forget all about him.”
I’m almost embarrassed by the whimper that leaves my lips as he presses into me slowly.
“Oh shit. You’re so fucking perfect,” he whispers, sliding into me inch by sweet inch.
When he’s to the hilt, he pauses, letting me adjust to his size, then he gently begins rocking into me.
So…damn…slowly.
He pulls out until just the tip of him is inside me, and then he slams back in. I gasp at the pain that’s quickly overtaken by pleasure burning through my veins.
Smith chuckles, then does it again. And again. He wraps one hand around my hair, tugging at me until my head falls back and his lips are on my ear.
“I’m really going to fuck you now, Emilia. Are you ready?”
I nod because it’s all I can manage.
He pounds into me again and again and again, so hard and so fast I’m up on my tiptoes, clawing at the wall, needing a reprieve. I’m torn between wanting to run away from him and wanting to push back and meet his thrusts. Something tells me all I need to do is stand right here, letting him use me.
And fuck, does it feel good to be used like this.
Out of nowhere, my orgasm hits me. It’s so hard and intense as stars explode behind my eyes, and I think I might even stop breathing for a moment.
Suddenly I’m being spun around, my legs wrapping around his waist, and I’m thankful for it because I’m not sure I’d be able to stand much longer. Smith carries me down a dark hall into what I assume is his bedroom. He drops me onto the bed, then crawls between my legs, wraps one around his waist, and slides home again.
“Oh!” I cry out when he hits that spot that drives me wild.
He slams into me again, and another whimper leaves me. His thumb finds my clit and he rubs at it in short, rough circles.
“I can’t,” I tell him.
There’s no way he’s going to make me come again. I have literally never orgasmed twice during sex.
“You will,” he instructs, leaning down to take my mouth with his.
He slows his pace, kissing me softly and sweetly, a vast contrast to how he was just fucking me. It doesn’t take long until I’m approaching the edge of that cliff again.
He smiles against me when my hips begin to move on their own, thrusting up to meet him. “I told you so.”
He pushes back to his knees and looks down at me with a hunger I’ve never seen from someone else before. He’s looking at me like he can’t get enough, like he’ll never get enough.
And I’m not sure I ever will either.
I didn’t get a good look at him before, but god, he’s perfect. The moonlight from his open windows casts beautiful shadows across him. His muscles are tight and defined, his chest full of hair I bet would feel good beneath my cheek.
His hips snap into mine as he pounds into me. The moment his thumb finds my clit again, I’m seeing stars for the second time tonight. He laughs darkly, but it’s short-lived as his own orgasm races through him. He stills above me, looking like absolute perfection with his head thrown back mid-climax.
When he finally comes back to earth, he grins down at me and collapses into a heap beside me. Our breaths are coming in harsh. I have never had someone fuck me so thoroughly before, never had someone know exactly what I needed without having to tell them.
I’ve never wanted to do it again so damn badly.
I hear Smith pull off the condom and toss it into what sounds like an empty trash can, then he falls back beside me. After several minutes—during which I’m certain he falls asleep—the panic begins to set in.
I’ve never done this before. I’ve never had to deal with the aftermath of a one-night stand. Do we cuddle? Am I supposed to grab my clothes and leave? Do I leave my number? I have no idea.
I go to push off the bed, and a giant hand lands on my stomach, halting my movements.
“I…I should go,” I say quietly.
“Why?”
“Because isn’t this just a one-night thing?”
“Yes.”
“Then I should leave.”
He tugs at me, pulling me back to him, and I let him. He rolls until he’s on top of me, staring down at me with those golden-brown eyes as he stretches my arms above my head, locking his fingers with mine. “Do you want to leave?”
I tuck my bottom lip between my teeth, contemplating that.
Do I want to leave? No.
Should I leave? Yes.
“You’re a lot older than me,” I say.
“I know.”
“And I don’t know you.”
“You don’t.” He presses a kiss to my nose. “That’s all stuff we can figure out later. We’re not discussing it right now. Right now, I’m asking you…do you want to leave?”
“No.”
“Then stay. We can figure the rest out.”
I chew on my lip again. He leans down, sucking my lip into his mouth, soothing away the ache I’ve caused. When he pulls back, he’s looking at me with that same heat I saw earlier.
That same heat I feel pooling in my lower belly once more.
That same heat I’m certain is going to leave burns.
“Stay,” he says again.
And for some crazy reason…I do.
