Messalina: Devourer of Men (10 page)

            Inch by luscious inch, he infiltrates my yielding body until I envelop him to the hilt. For a moment, we’re both still, relishing the fact that our bodies are finally joined, together at last. My inner muscles quiver and pulse around his firm penis, making him gasp, and I feel my heart thundering in my chest. This is what I’ve been waiting for, to have Jared’s body inside mine, for him to possess me.

            Maybe it’s because our temples are so close with his head on my shoulder that allows him to read my mind, because he gives me a squeeze and raises his head to look at me. He’s smiling.

“You got me where you want me, don’t you?”

            I return the smile. “The feeling’s mutual, isn’t it?”

“Oh, yes.” And with a seductive leer in his eyes he thrusts his hips and we begin to move.

            There’s no more talking after that. And, despite my fears, I’m going to make up for lost time. From our tongues tasting, to our fingers stroking and probing, the sound of us gaining pleasure out of each other soon fills the room.

            I have no idea as to Jared’s sexual history, and perhaps I’m flattering myself, but it feels as if he’s putting more than just his back into it, which he arches high before surging forward to stretch me. His loins slap my thighs as every ounce of his power goes into each thrust. He ploughs into me, making the bed springs quake, and we ride them for all they’re worth. He paces himself like a prime athlete, breathing deep and exhaling hard, making me realize just how out of condition I am. All I can do is hold on and marvel at the man turning my insides into a trembling orgasmic sea. I spread my legs wide to accommodate him and he hooks his arms under my knees, anchoring me in place.

            But I’m not passive. I rise to meet him and take each blow full-force, daring him to break me and my participation is appreciated. I look at him and his eyes are closed in concentration. Our breathing becomes strained from our workout and our kisses get deeper, our embraces tighter. He rises above me and I think his face is trying to convey multiple emotions—ecstasy, release, constraint. Then, he comes to a complete stop, opens his eyes to gaze down at my face, but he’s not seeing me. I can feel him inside me, vibrating, on the verge of erupting. Pressing me deeper into the mattress, he pins my hands above my head. I can’t look away from the violet pools of his eyes.

            Suddenly, his eyes focus on mine and we hold each other within our sights, then something sparks, setting off an explosion. I rock my hips forward as he gives one final push, and together, we peak Mount Everest and shoot into the stratosphere.

In the past, for me, sex was just the act of building my arousal to such a peak I must jump off, only to crash and burn when I hit the earth. But with Jared, I’m not ashamed to say it’s a religious experience. Tears come to my eyes, blinding me. I can only hear my blood coursing as my mind melts and the knot that slowly tied itself inside me starts unraveling, releasing my joy.

            I gasp for breath only to have my mouth possessed by his moist, soft tongue. I hold onto his trembling body as the last of his essence flows and cradle him between my arms, between my legs, and return kisses between his sighs.

            Slowly, my hearing and sight returns. His mouth lifts from mine and then, to my embarrassment, a sob escapes me. His lips take on the gentle task of kissing away my tears and a deep chuckle of satisfaction rumbles through his chest, making me laugh too. But this is nothing to laugh at. What we just did goes beyond physical fusion. The way he releases one of my hands to caress my cheek tells me he knows that was something special. He kisses my shoulder, still breathing hard.

            “Evadne,” he whispers, a smile on his lips. He tries to roll off me but I hold on.

            “No, Jared, don’t.” I stroke his cheekbones with my thumbs. “Stay where you are . . . please?”

            He looks down at me but says nothing. After all, we’ve gotten what we wanted. But his eyes still glow with the same fire that has warmed me since the day we met. It’s a look that says he’s comfortable and satisfied right where he is.

            I pull him down for one last kiss and he relaxes on top of me. I nip at his left earlobe and whisper, “Jared?”

            But he’s asleep.

Chapter Six

“The Next Day”

            I wake up the next morning not knowing what time it is. When my eyes focus I see the window and sunlight, but still don’t know where I am.

            Déja vú? This has happened before, hasn’t it? I decide to carry out the dream scenario and shift to touch myself.

            Yes! I got it! The dull but telltale, “freshly fucked” ache between the legs. This is great!

Smiling smugly, I run a hand over the swell of my belly and rest it on top of my pussy only to meet Jared’s hand already there. His leg lies over mine and I turn my head to the left to see him asleep on his back, one arm covering his eyes.  Sleep makes his face look even paler in contrast to the dark stubble of his morning shadow.

            His chest rises and falls in deep, even breaths and his nipples are two rosy pearls standing at attention, making me want to tease them with my tongue. But I resist and let my gaze continue its journey down, following the faint line of hair that divides his torso in two and creates a slight whorl around his navel. That’s when I see it.

            Lying dormant, but intimidating nonetheless, is the mighty organ that commands as much respect as the master who wielded it so easily. An active evening has not diminished its size much despite lying limp against Jared’s thigh. At rest, his cock has a soft pink cast and sleeps like a baby, completely the opposite of the dusk-colored alter ego when preparing for battle.

His cock must’ve suspected my contemplating it, because it twitches and jerks in my direction. Jared sighs and shifts closer to me.

            He flexes the fingers of his right hand, giving me an intimate squeeze. I prop myself up on my elbows to get a look at the man’s handiwork. The colors are still bright, but the silhouetted woman diving between my breasts and the “flames of passion” emanating from between my thighs is smeared beyond recognition.

            With another flex of his hand between my legs, his fingers start searching, snaking through the soft grass of hair until they find my entrance. I lie down, raising my right knee, and arch my back slightly to give him access. We both moan as his fingers reach their target. I place my hand on top of his, pressing it closer. Again, I look at Jared and see he no longer has his arm over his eyes, but they’re still closed.

            And he’s smiling.

            He strokes me, playing me better than a virtuoso. Soon he has me lifting my hips off the bed to let his fingers go deeper. For several minutes this continues until I can’t take it anymore, but instead of letting him get a quick orgasm out of me, I roll onto my stomach making his hand fall away.

            He reacts quickly by climbing on top of me and pushing my hair out of the way to kiss the back of my neck. His cock is awake, too, and I feel it press the base of my back. He lifts up slightly to push his penis down until the tip nudges my opening and starts to go in.

            “Wait,” I say, holding up a hand. “Before you go any further, what’s my name?”

            “Evadne!” He laughs incredulously.

            “Just checking. You may proceed.”

            He can’t see my grin with my face buried in the pillow. Still chuckling, he enters me smoothly and penetrates deep, making me catch my breath.

“Just checking,” he mimics, kissing my neck again.

            His arms encircle me, one going around my waist, the other just above my chest and around my shoulders. He squeezes me tight, as once again, he stretches me to my limit. He sets a less urgent pace this time and I’m grateful. I can’t believe how sore I am. Even his steady, slow movements make me wince and he notices.

            “You alright? You want me to stop?” He kisses my shoulder.

            “Good God, no,” I moan and he tightens his grip on me and I relish being crushed into something soft and yielding by the firmness of a man’s body. My excitement builds as we slowly rock along. I grip my hidden mouth around Jared’s cock and he growls like a prehistoric beast when he comes. He bites my earlobe and then whispers.

            “Good morning, Eva.”

* * * *

            It’s mid-morning when we finally roll out of bed and I take the opportunity to see what’s left of the designs painted on my back in the bathroom mirror. Jared had created an ouroboros, a serpent eating its own tail, in black, red, and yellow. It reminds me of a Maori image. It’s abstract, attractive, and when I remember how quickly he created it, I whistle.

            “It’s lovely. Shame I have to wash it off.”  I’m still looking over my shoulder at my reflection when he rises from where he sat on the edge of the bed to come near. His hands stroke down my back, his fingers tracing the snake in its coiled design.

“You’ll never be able to reach.” His eyes meet mine in the reflection and their soothing, hypnotic color engulfs me. I fancy I can see into him, way beyond the surface. I don’t think I was meant to see that far, because he breaks our gaze to kiss the top of my head. When I try to hug him, he grabs my hands and steps away.

            “Come on,” he says. “Let me help you.”

* * * *

            There’s no telling how much water we wasted showering together. After twenty minutes we decide to do some bathing. Later, standing in front of the vanity, Jared wipes the condensation off the mirror and I dry my hair. I’ve wrapped a towel around me. He doesn’t bother with such modesty. 

            Standing beside each other at the double sink, we brush our teeth in tandem. It’s a bit awkward because this is a new level of intimacy for me. When I get ready to spit, I look up to see him watching me. I stop. So does he.

            “Considering how intimate we’ve been,” he struggles to say, “Why feel shy about brushing your teeth?”

            “Well,” I say, smiling back, “It’s the spitting that I find a bit rude.”

            “That’s nothing.” He turns on the faucet. “You should hear me being rude after eating refried beans.”

            I try not to laugh but my mouth is ready to burst with toothpaste, saliva, and all the other things that come with tooth brushing—and he’s staring at me again.

“What’s the matter, Eva?” He wriggles his eyebrows at me.

“I want to spit.” My voice is garbled.

“So spit.”

“No. You first, then look away.”

“Embarrassed? C’mon, girl, spit!” Then he gives me an evil leer. “Or do you prefer to swallow?”

My mouth is burning and I want to laugh and cry. Instead I whimper. “Jared . . . ”

“OK, we’ll go together on three. One . . . two . . .” He bends over his sink and I copy him. “Three!”

I spit. He doesn’t, so I remove the wet towel covering me and slap his bare, wet ass.

“I see
you
prefer to swallow.”

* * * *

            Once dressed, we go downstairs to The Terrace Restaurant. There aren’t many people about.  I give Sidney a wave as we go through the lobby and he gives me a smile and nod of approval.

“Making friends already, I see,” Jared says and I smile.

Jared has the physique of a basketball player, tall but sort of beefy too. Today he wears a black blazer, white shirt, and jeans with cowboy boots. He’s stylish and casual, but it’s hard not to notice him as soon as he walks into a room. Right now is no exception, so I just stand beside him and bask in his glory, trying not to look self-satisfied.

The hostess leads us to a table and a few minutes later a waiter takes our order.

            “I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave you again after we finish,” Jared says halfway through our meal. “But don’t worry. There’s someone I want you to meet. In fact, she agreed to keep you entertained today.”

            “Is that so?” I say, cautiously. “That’s mighty generous of her.”

            “She’s that kind of gal,” he says and winks.

            I try to put my next question as casually as possible. “Is she an ex?”

            He’s putting marmalade on a buttered point of toast, but I see him trying to suppress a smile.

“Yes.”

            “Oh.” I reach for the pepper mill. “Maybe I’ll get an unbiased opinion of you out of her.”

            “I doubt it.” He takes a bite of toast and chews slowly before leveling his eyes on me in the same predatory way that nailed me hours before. “I can guarantee excellent testimony.”

* * * *

            When Jared tells me the name of his friend, I couldn’t believe it. Talley Monroe, mystery writer and
New York Times
bestseller, lives in the University Park area of Dallas. I’ve read and enjoyed her books.