Authors: Cherrie Lynn
Ross 02 Rock Me (11 page)
Dude, you are either one stupid son of a bitch, or you might just be the smartest motherfucker who
ever lived.
“Are you okay?” he whispered.
“Mm-hmm. Are you?”
He stroked her hair. “I’m great, sweetheart.”
“Can I ask you something?”
He had to chuckle. Whenever anyone else said that to him, he groaned. With her, he could only look forward to what she was going to inquire with eager curiosity. “Anything.”
“Did you quit smoking?”
For a moment, he was struck speechless. They hadn’t talked about this at all. He hadn’t talked about it with anyone. “I did, actually—well, I haven’t had one in two weeks, anyway.”
“I noticed. You never could go an hour without walking outside to light up.”
Maybe it wasn’t as big a deal as his mind—or his heart—wanted to make it out to be. Any observant person could’ve put it together. But his family hadn’t. His friends hadn’t. She had. She’d watched him that much.
He tightened his embrace on her and turned his face to brush his lips against her forehead. “Thank you.”
She tilted her face up to his. “For what?”
“For being there. For being you. For everything.”
“I’m glad you quit,” she whispered.
“Me too.”
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Rock Me
She awoke to sunlight pouring in her window and a heavy leg lying on top of one of hers. The previous night came flooding back all at once, too vivid to have been a dream, and besides, the warm male flesh crowding hers in the bed was proof it had really happened. She hadn’t slept much, awakening several times during the night just to stare at him and marvel that he was here, next to her. Her virginity may still be intact, but he’d taken it down from “complete and utter”
to “technical only”. It was something, at least.
She lay on her side with Brian’s arm over her waist. His breath tickled her nape, slow and languid. How would it feel to wake up like
this
every morning?
She wanted to stretch and arch her back and purr like a cat. The urge was almost undeniable, but it would probably disturb him, and she needed to savor these moments. There might not be any more of them. The numbers on her digital clock said it was almost ten. She was dying for coffee. No class on Fridays, but for all she knew, he had someplace he needed to be. Sighing in resignation, she turned over in his arms and snuggled close, putting her lips on his throat and giving him a gentle bite. He chuckled drowsily and raised his shoulder, forcing her to pull back.
“You can’t be ticklish,” she said in disbelief.
“Mm-hmm. I am.” She loved how he sounded, his voice all slow and sleep-roughened.
“I’ll have to remember that.” Even as the words left her lips, her heart sank. What if this had all really meant nothing to him? What if he wouldn’t take her virginity because he suffered from that stupid male affliction of thinking she was going to want to marry him or something if she gave it up to him? Maybe she would, but that wasn’t the point. The point was, if that was the case, then he didn’t want her wanting him, because he didn’t want her.
Is that really what you want? I’ll hurt you.
It crushed her.
His hand came up to caress her cheek, pushing her tangled hair away from her face. When he looked at her as he was right now, she wondered what the problem was. He had to feel something. There was something there in his eyes she had never seen when he looked at her cousin. A…tenderness, lame as it might sound. As if the sight of her caused something in him to melt. She couldn’t be imagining it. He was so beautiful. Handsome was such a plain word, too plain to describe him. Here in the light of day she could see what she was touching. She trailed her hand over his biceps, tracing the lines of his tattoos. It could turn into a favorite pastime of hers. She sat up a bit and leaned over to press her lips against a beautiful blue rose on his skin. The movement pressed her breasts against him.
“Shit,” he whispered. His arm came up behind her so he could clutch at her hair. His other hand gravitated toward her left breast, palming it and gently massaging. She sucked in a breath and her nipple peaked against him. Her tongue sneaked out to flicker against his skin, and he pushed his hips into her.
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His cock was already as erect as it had been last night, a hard ridge in his boxer briefs. It ground into her abdomen and, before he could stop her, she plunged her hand down into the waistband of his underwear and deftly freed it.
“Candace,” he said, his voice tinged with warning.
“I just want to play,” she murmured. “Let me? One more time?”
His groan was a combination of frustrated pleasure and despair. She loved making him sound like that, as if he was torn in two over her, even though she knew she would be better off if she could take the
“despair” out of the equation. “When you ask me like that, how the fuck can I resist?”
Giggling, she cupped both hands around his length and stroked, noticing he’d put his piercing back in at some point in the night. He was big and long and heavy, jutting straight out from a patch of jet-black hair. The thickness of his shaft and the silver glint of his barbell gave her a twinge of anxiety. If she ever got her chance, it would be enough trying to take him in without anything else going along. But at the same time, she wanted to experience everything he had to give her.
She continued rubbing him from base to tip, first with one hand and then the other. She circled the ball on the top of his glans with her thumb. His breath rasped, his grip on her tightened. He reached over and pushed her thigh up, burying his hand between her legs and groaning again when he felt how damp she’d grown.
A gasp ripped from her throat as his fingertip parted her folds and he dipped into her wetness and spread it, circling her clit and then gently probing her entrance. She clamped her thighs on his wrist, all the sensations too much for her to take. He stopped what he was doing only long enough to wrench her legs apart again, his mouth finding hers as his fingers dove back down to take their place between her labia.
“Oh, God,” she said in a rush against his lips. He sucked her tongue into his mouth and stroked it with his own, sending her arousal spiraling into the heavens. One of his fingers breached her passage, pushing past her resistance until he was buried to the knuckle in her heat, his palm tight against her. Instinctively, she undulated against it, collapsing on the bed in sheer bliss as he moved in and out, hooking his finger to graze her upper wall.
When she relaxed for him, she felt him nudge a second fingertip next to the first and nearly lost her mind. So incredibly wet… Her body couldn’t resist the intrusion, and she didn’t want it to. The stretch as he pushed inside was exquisite, devastating, and she could do nothing but spread wider and let him go as deep as he could, her brow furrowed in agony as he did.
“Am I hurting you?” he whispered. She could feel his gaze intent on her face.
“I…just…please…”
“Please what?”
Stop. Don’t stop. I don’t freaking know.
“Surely you’ve done this to yourself before?” he asked, his voice dark and sinful. “Tell me.”
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“Brian, I…” She trailed off into a moan when he twisted his fingers inside her.
“What did you say to me last night? You wanted me to let you get a little bit dirty. Tell me, Candace. Tell me what you do and what you think about.”
She’d fallen into the Twilight Zone. The world outside was bright and cheerful; birds sang, cars zipped down the street. This was her room, her bed, her belongings. Yet it was an entirely different dimension she’d fallen into. He was its gatekeeper.
“Y-yes, I’ve done this.”
“What do you think about? Do you imagine someone else is here, doing it to you?”
She nodded, her entire state of being reduced to the sensual slide of his fingers in and out of her pussy. So many times, she’d wished it were him doing that to her. And now it was.
“Tell me.”
The words burst out of her throat with an almost humiliating eagerness. “I think about— I think about you. I promise I’m not just saying that because you’re here now. I think about you doing this to me. And kissing me there. I think about…you making love to me.” She wanted to cringe even as she said it. He lowered his lips to her ear, nuzzling the soft, sensitive shell. “And when I make love to you,” he murmured, sending chills skittering madly down her arms, “am I gentle? Or am I rough?” He pushed his fingers hard when he said the last, driving a gasp from her. His palm connected with her clit and he pressed it firmly, still keeping up his torturous rhythm inside her body.
“If I’m having a—oh, God—having a bad day, or if I’m sad, I imagine you’re gentle. But other times…I just want you to…” She sank her teeth into her bottom lip, lifting a hand to cover her face.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he whispered. “Although I love the way you blush. Tell me what I do, how you need me. The darkest fantasies you have, in the last wild moments before you make yourself come, what do you imagine I’ve done to you?”
She shook her head on the pillow, not wanting to lend voice to those thoughts. He gentled his movements, and she grasped his wrist hard enough to make her knuckles go white, terrified he would stop if she didn’t reply. “You tie me up,” she said.
“Fuck.” He moved his mouth to her shoulder, exhaling warmth across her skin, and then trailed it over to her breast. Her nipple slipped into his mouth, and he sucked it until she whimpered. All of it was too much for her, but she needed so much more.
Once the words were out there, she couldn’t stop them. “You tie me up and I’m helpless, all spread out for you. You can take whatever you want and I let you have it all.” His teeth sank into her soft flesh, and she cried out. It was the best pain she’d ever felt in her life. “S-so maybe I’m not as innocent as you think I am.”
“Oh, you are,” he murmured, releasing his hold on her nipple, leaving it shining with moisture. It was so stiff and aching and throbbing from his ministrations she wanted to touch it herself, to soothe the sting
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away. “But I do love that you fantasize about me. Maybe you’ll call me next time you’re in the middle of one and you need to hear my voice to get you through. I’ll tell you what I wish I was here doing to you. However you need me, rough or gentle.”
Her cheeks flamed at the thought of that deep, wicked voice purring her to orgasm as she stroked herself. Letting him hear her moan his name as she came for him, only for him, even if he was across town.
“I will,” she said. “I think I’d love that.”
Suddenly, he pulled his hand from between her legs and rose up over her, pushing her thighs down to the mattress so that she cried out and nearly had a panic attack.
Oh God I’ve set him off he’s going to do it he’s going to…
He dragged the tip of his cock between her labia, coating it with her moisture, but he didn’t push inside. “Fuck, I want to,” he muttered, and she had the feeling it was more to himself than to her. “I want to more than I’ve ever wanted any fucking thing in my entire life.”
She was dying. Couldn’t lie still, wriggling closer, tilting her hips, trying to get him to slip inside. It wasn’t possible. Given his girth, it would take more than a mere “slip” to get him in. But he appeared to have complete control of himself, and he evaded her every move. She let fly a string of curses she hadn’t known she was capable of, calling him a choice name or two. He had the audacity to grin. He rubbed his crown over her clit, letting the little ball on the underside skim over it. Strong hands gripped her hips and lifted them off the bed, while he kept up the delicious back-andforth motion across the aching bundle of nerves, his shaft cradled by her labia. Oooh, that was good. And it would make her come soon, but it wouldn’t assuage the empty ache. She needed to be filled up by him. If he would only move down an inch or so, he could push in…
“Do it,” she sobbed. “I don’t care, Brian, just—”
“Baby, I don’t have any condoms on me. I’m guessing you don’t, either.”
She shook her head, her brow furrowed with frustration.
“I’m not going raw in you.”
“You were going to until you found out I’m a virgin.”
“No, I was praying you had something. Or were on something. I told you, I didn’t come here for this, and I meant it.”
She thought it was a convenient lie, and wanted to argue further, but her muscles were tightening deliciously, shutting down the connection between her brain and her mouth. Brian’s eyes closed and he groaned, grabbing his shaft and pumping it as he rocked against her. She had only a moment to appreciate how gorgeous he looked this way, muscles standing out in his arms and his abs, before the sensations in her sex overtook her entire body, exploding outward. She could only wish he was inside her to feel how she would grip him.
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“That’s it, sweetie, come for me,” he murmured, the words dissolving into a groan that brought as much pleasure to her as everything else he was doing. She reached out and fisted the sheets as he ground out a curse and warmth erupted across her belly, though he had the foresight to move a bit so that her tattoo wasn’t endangered. Unabashed, she arched against him, her head thrown back, feeling his gaze on her swaying breasts even though her eyes were closed. It wasn’t often that she felt truly beautiful, but in that moment, with the lush pleasure he’d given her zinging along her nerve endings, she could have believed she was.
It was the only thought at the forefront of her mind as he eased her back down to the bed and back down to earth. All the heat had rushed out of her body and suddenly, she was cold. She just needed him to hold her. Again, she couldn’t stop shaking.
His weight came slowly down on her and she wrapped her arms tight around him, feeling at once deliriously happy and more than a little furious that he’d made her beg like that. Helpless tears leaked from her eyes as she leaned her face into his shoulder. Maybe he would hold her until she could get control, and he wouldn’t have to see her cry again. Was it too much to ask to maintain at least a shred of dignity around him? He’d about taken it all away.