The First Taste(66)

“Ruin your lipstick,” he says. “I want my dick red with it.”

My insides tighten with his unexpected, roughly-spoken demand. I take him in my mouth, but it’s not enough. I pull back and smear my lipstick all over his shaft, down to his balls.

“Good,” he says through gritted teeth before raking a firm hand through my hair. “Now clean it all off.”

I salivate, suddenly quivering with this firm, insistent side of him. I obey, flattening my tongue and pulling him deep. I bob my head a few times, then release him with a wet pop. I suck the marks off until they’re completely gone, which is no small feat considering I wear the kind of lipstick meant to last all day. He lifts his cock to his stomach, pumping it in his fist a few times and thrusting his balls against my lips. Hungry for him, I suckle them until his knees practically give out and he has to sit on the bed.

“Touch yourself,” he says. I go to put my free hand between my legs, but he says, “Both hands.”

I wet two of my fingers with my saliva and push them inside myself. With my other hand, I massage my clit.

“Suck,” he says, grit in his voice.

I open instinctively. He guides himself back into my mouth. With my hands occupied, I’m forced to get him off just by bobbing back and forth. I do this with as much gusto as possible, working myself at the same time, until he pulls on my elbow. I raise my arm and suddenly, my fingers are in his hot mouth.

He groans, tonguing my juices off. “Your mouth, your *—how do you always taste so f*cking good?”

The sensation of sucking and getting sucked makes my thighs shake. I just want to come, and he must be able to sense it, because he pulls my head back by my hair and says, “Your turn.”

Gasping for air, I only have a second to gape up at him before he squats, takes me by my waist, and lifts me up like I weigh nothing. I involuntarily yelp as he throws me over his shoulder. “Andrew—”

He slaps my ass, stunning me into silence, then yanks my thong down and my skirt up. As I dangle over his back, he holds my legs in place with one arm and thrusts his fingers inside me.

“Oh, God,” I moan as he f*cks me hard.

He bites my ass cheek, and I squeal. I have nothing to hang on to, so I wrap my arms around him, wanting to return the favor, but he’s too tall and I can’t reach.

Maybe it’s the angle or the shock or the blood rushing to my head, but in no time at all, I’m coming. Upside down. In his complete and utter control.

“Fuck,” he says. “You are ripe for the picking tonight.” He walks us around the bed to the nightstand. “No more foreplay. I’ll f*ck you now, and we can resume later.” His fingers disappear from between my legs as I hear the drawer open.

Since we walked through the door, he’s had me at his mercy. And to my surprise, I love it. It’s getting me off. I didn’t think I’d ever like to be dominated so completely, and it makes me wonder about the other barriers Andrew might be able to break down. “Andrew?” I ask.

“Hmm?” he asks, rifling through the nightstand.

“You asked what I want tonight.” I have to get the words out quickly, before I lose my nerve. My heart pounds in every part of my body, and not just because I’m upside down.

“Yeah? You finally going to let me tie you up?”

A mix of fear and excitement thrill up my spine. “No,” I say. “Better.”

“What then?”

“Look in the back of the drawer.”

After more rustling, he pauses. “Fuck. Seriously?”

He lowers me onto the mattress. He’s almost intimidating in his height and broadness, with his cock hard and reaching. He looks down at me on my back, holding the bottle of lube from my nightstand and a small, silver plug shaped like the smooth bud of a rose.

“Where’d you get this?” he asks.

“Reggie brought it home after a night out drinking.”

“All right then,” he says, sounding disappointed. “My fault for asking.”

“We never used it,” I say. “I mean, obviously he tried, more than once. I wouldn’t.”

He lets his gaze travel down my body. “But you’d let me?”

I admire him too, the tattoos I’m coming to know better, the fine dark hair on his thighs and calves. His strength is evident. He could hurt me, but he won’t. I’m willing to have him in this intimate place. Maybe it’s a f*ck-you to my ex, but I want Andrew to have something nobody else ever has. And above all, most importantly, I’ve been curious about anal since Andrew fingered me in the hotel room—and I enjoyed it.

Our eyes meet at the same time. “I would love to,” he says. “But not if you have to think that hard about it.”

If I had any doubts, his concern is enough to cut through them. “I want to. I didn’t, with him, but you—you’re different.”

“Smart,” he says simply. “You knew, on some level, you couldn’t trust him.”

“But why do I trust you? I barely know you. We aren’t even—” I look away. It occurs to me he might see this as a step in the wrong direction, an intimacy that goes beyond what we agreed to. “It doesn’t mean I—”

“What if it does mean something, Amelia?” I turn back to him. “You do know me. We’ve been honest with each other from day one. That’s why you’re comfortable doing this. You know where I stand. I know where you stand. There’s no secrets between us.”