In the Mix (11 page)

He gasps. Pants. Groans.

He gently flicks at my hood piercing.

I lean up on my elbows and study him, not sure of this reaction. His fingers glide across my clef. “So smooth,” he barely utters.

“I don’t like body hair . . . on me. It bothers me,” I offer.

“Gorgeous. So. Fucking. Gorgeous.” His finger plays with my ring gently. He closes his eyes, throwing his head back.

“What’s the matter?” I ask, feeling a bit anxious.

“What’s the matter?” He lets out a light chuckle. “I’m trying to compose myself. You have no idea how badly I want to pound into you like a teenage boy, having his first go at things.”

“Oh . . .”

“Remember the first time we kissed? What you said to me about how good my scruff was going to feel against your pussy, when I eat the fuck out of it?” He situates himself in position and . . . he smirks. This is different from the usual Kyle smirk I get from him. This is sexy smirk. This is “I’m about to rock your fucking world” smirk.
Fucking smirker.
I’m gonna wipe that smirk right off of his face—with my pussy. He lowers his face to my center and glides up it with
one . . . two . . . three
quick, soft, and savoring kisses. The last one, on my clit, had a little tongue slippage action going on and it was hot as hell. “Did it go down at all like this in your mind?” he asks before he lowers back down then shakes his face, rubbing his scruff on my pussy lips and blowing raspberries.

Me?

I’m wide-eyed for a moment until my laughter rolls up from my toes and closes my eyes as I go into hysterics. I stop when he stops. My eyes open to find his smiling ones. I’m about to ask him what in the fuck that was but I’m distracted by the weight of my smile falling. I know exactly what that was. That was him pulling some shit that I would’ve pulled had the roles been reversed. He pulled a “CiCi.” He’s been doing that a lot lately. And at this moment, I realize, he’s able to pull a “CiCi” because he
gets
me.

Holy fuck . . .

He gets me . . .

“That was so much hotter than I imagined, actually,” I say with the most serious tone I can muster, cos . . . ya know, I gotta fuck with him.

“It was the raspberries, wasn’t it?” he asks, knowingly.

“It was.” I nod. “I mean, you went right for it. No waiting. No planning out when you would take our relationship to vaginal raspberry status. You just went for it . . . like a ninja.” I widen my eyes at him. “That’s fucking hot, Kyle. I love a confident man who pays no attention to codes, rules, and whatnot. You see a pussy that needs a raspberry blown on it and you go in like a champ!”

“That’s my motto, actually—
go in like a champ!
I’m getting bumper stickers made next week.”

“I’d put that on my bumper,” I say thoughtfully.

“That’s nice, Ceese. Thank you for the support but I have other things in mind for your bumper.” He flicks his left eyebrow up at me then winks.

Let the record show that I am speechless. Normally, I’d have something here, but I don’t. I feel like he stole my line. I feel like I’m bantering with myself. I don’t know how to banter with myself . . . with other people in the room.

“Do me a favor?”

“Huh?” I snap my attention back.

“Make sure to tell me how awful I am at this . . . don’t hold back, ok?” His tone is still slightly playful but the look in his eyes grows serious, almost predatory like. I nod. “I can’t wait to find out how many licks it takes to get to the center of CiCi’s tootsie pop.” All I can do is pant while I watch him lower his attention to my
Golden Ticket.

I think I may have pegged Kyle out all wrong. Or . . . I’ve created a monster who wants to do nothing more than show me just how bad he can be.

Fuck, I love the way her pussy tastes . . .

I should stop and tell her. I’m pretty sure, under normal circumstances, she’d love for me to tell her that; talk dirty to her in general. But she’s all over the place tonight. Funny thing with CiCi is that her “all over the place” is everybody else’s “normal.”

She almost comes to a seated position and pulls at my hair, grinding harder into my face, “Oh God, right there!” she cries out, her pussy pulsating into my face. “Do you have any idea,” she starts after coming down, “how many times I’ve imagined you doing this to me? How hard you’ve fucked me?” Her voice is so soft and seductive, causing me to mentally talk the “big guy” down. I swear if I get any fucking harder right now, I won’t even make it to the unzipping of my pants. “Just the slightest thought of you,” she pants, “and my pussy is dripping, aching for you.”

“Faaaaccccckkk!” I growl, whipping her legs over my shoulders and rising to my knees, sending her back and on to her upper back—almost upside down.

And . . .

I fuck her hard with my tongue, my fingers working their magic at her clit. The sounds coming from her are bringing me closer to the edge than I’ve ever been. “Come, CiCi! Come!” I snap out of pure need to get her there again so I can bury myself in her. I have never commanded a woman to come before. I didn’t even think about it—I just did it. And you know what? She is fucking coming like a champ.

Yes, I’m smirking.

I lay her body back down and attack her lips, unzipping and yanking my pants down before wrapping her legs around my waist. I break away from her mouth and stare into her eyes for a beat. “Please . . .” she whispers. I slam into her and soak in the sound of her whimper.

She feels so fucking good.

My left hand palms her face, my mouth claiming hers as I roll into her over and over again. I let go and reach down to hook her leg, allowing myself to thrust deeper; I can’t get close enough. Her whimperish cries hypnotize me like some fucking spell I’m under. I can’t stop.

It’s intense.

I feel like I’m on a high.

I don’t want to come down.

Deeper . . .

“Oh. You. Have. Got. To. Be. Kidding. Me!” CiCi bellows out through another orgasm. She clenches tightly around my cock, causing a long low groan from me.

“Ceese! Stop! Fuck—I gotta pull out!”

“No! Don’t stop!” She holds me to her and grinds her hips, finishing off.

“Shit! Shit!
God . . . damn!”
Yup . . . Like a teenage boy, having his first go at things. I pump into her a few last times, unable to close my gaping mouth until I collapse on top of her.

We lay still for some time, trying to steady our breathing.

“Ceese?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No, I’m not on birth control,” she says quietly.

“Oh. Wow . . . ok.”

“I’m sorry.” She turns her head when I lift mine up to look at her.

“Me, too. I just couldn’t hold back anymore.” I try to explain.

“As far as pregnancy, I’m sure we’ll be fine. I’m due within the next day or two.”

“But?” I move a strand of her hair off of her left cheek.

“Are you,” she hesitates, “are you clean?”

“Of course I am!” I bite, making her jump a bit. “Sorry.” I shake my head, trying to control the spark of anger that shot out of nowhere. I had better control over my anger before CiCi came along. It’s not even true anger, more like some sort of anxiety. I never know what to expect with this woman. All I know is that no matter what . . . for some reason . . . I can’t walk away. “I always protect myself and get regular check-ups. I can usually control myself enough to not go too far without a condom.”

“Usually?”

“Yes. You’re the exception. I can’t seem to control any part of me around you.” I pull out and roll onto my back. Letting out a big sigh, I continue, “At some point, I should probably quit trying.” I turn my head in her direction and bring my hand up to her cheek, grazing it with the back of my fingers. She lies in silence, her breathing hypnotizing me. I stare at her for several minutes just wondering. Wondering what’s going through her head, what’s going on with her? Something is not right. She’s not herself. I’m not going to lie; my anxiety is starting to go through the roof. I can’t help but think that’s she’s planning an exit strategy. I take in a deep breath and close my eyes, unable to believe I’m about to assist her with this. “Do you want me to go?”

Her head whips my way to face me, her eyes open wide. “Do you want to leave?!” she asks in an almost accusatory tone.

I shake my head and give her a half smile (of relief, really). “No. I, most definitely, do not want to leave you right now.”

“Why would you ask me that then?” She turns on her side and props up on her elbow.

“Ceese, why
wouldn’t
I ask that?” I prop up as well. “This . . . tonight, was completely out of character for you. You have to understand that while part of me is thrilled that this just happened, another part of me is waiting for you to pull your crap. Wait . . .” I trail off shaking my head.

“What?” She rises up more.

“I’m sorry.” I palm her left cheek. “We should be basking in the afterglow, not talking about this shit. I’m screwing this up for us. I analyze everything like a damn robot.”

“Yes, Mr. Spock, you should knock that off.” Her tone . . . a teasing one. I stare into her eyes. It’s not long before she shifts them away, giving my tattoo attention. “Can you tell me about this?” she asks as her fingers trace over the different patterns. I don’t think I have to tell you what her touch is stirring deep inside of me. My eyes fall to the area she is circling. She lies back, seemingly waiting for me to explain it all. Although, something tells me she knows what all of these different symbols mean.

“I take it you’re familiar with Polynesian tribal tattoos?” I question.

“A little bit. I know some of the meanings but I’d love to hear about them from you and your interpretation of them for your tattoo. Tattoos are very personal. Two people could have the same one—completely identical—yet, have two different meanings. What’s the story behind yours?”

“Very true. Well, these right here,” I trace the pattern of heads, “are enatas, representing my family. The turtles here and there are about family also, but longevity and wellness, too, since I like to live a healthy lifestyle. The fish are for prosperity and life. The shark teeth represent the warrior in me,” I chuckle. “I’m a 10
th
- dan black belt in Karate, so I wanted to incorporate that. I also have spearheads to do the same. The suns represent leadership. The ocean; my persistence.”

“You persistent? No kidding,” she teases.

“Shocking, I know.” I bite back my smile. “What about yours?” I glide the back of my hand down the length of hers.

“Birkita?” She glances down, smiling slightly.

“Birkita?” I laugh.

“Yes. Birkita. It’s Celtic. It means strong,” she says shyly. “I decided on the horned dragon because I loved the idea behind the symbolism.
Being mighty with words and actions,
” she adds.

“Birkita . . . the horned dragon . . . with green eyes and purple eyelids. Perfect. Absolutely. Perfect.” I plant several kisses on her lips.

“I like purple.”

“I like you.” I smile against her mouth.

“I like you, too, Spock.”

“I’m glad, Birkita.” I slowly climb on top of her.

“The horny dragon?”

“My favorite kind.” I eskimo kiss her. She growls at me before threading her hands into my hair and bringing my mouth to slam hard against hers. Her hips rock up against me, causing my cock to slide up and down her wetness. Our wetness.
Fuck, that’s hot.

“Kyle . . . please,” she begs, ripping her mouth from mine. Just as I’m about to enter her, there’s a knock on the door. CiCi’s eyes widen in panic.

“Ceese? Are you alright? I wanted to check on you before I went to bed.” Charlotte calls through the door.

She opens her mouth, about to answer. “I’ve got this,” I say before giving her nose a quick peck. She knits her brows slightly. I’m guessing she’s wondering what I’m going to say. What she doesn’t know is that I’m not going to say anything—she is. I slam inside of her quickly, causing her to scream out my name and a prayer or two to God. I pound into her relentlessly. She claws at my back, yelling out things that would only make sense if you were fluent in CiCi Speak.

“Sounds like you’re alright to me . . . or working really hard on being so!” Charlotte calls out again. “Make sure to pound her in the ass real good, Kyle, just how she likes it,” she adds. I stop and stare at CiCi.

“Oh my God! Don’t listen to her! Keep going!” she snaps and smacks my ass. Slowly, I lower my face to hers and caress her lips with mine before biting her bottom one. She gasps as I roll my hips confidently. Her hands grasp my ass, her hips grinding into me at a rushed pace. I grab her hip to stop her. “Ugh!” she groans in frustration. My eyes find hers. They study her as I continue at the pace I want. She tries to look everywhere but straight at me. Look, I know I’m going to sound like a pussy when I say this, but this not looking at me shit is kind of bothering me. I can’t put my finger on the reason why, but it is. I decide to stop trying and just give her what she wants.