Royally Not Ready(71)
“What don’t you understand about this being a one-time thing?” he asks. I look between us and watch as his abs bunch and lengthen with every pulse, his cock wet with pre-cum on the tip. My mouth waters.
“What don’t you understand about your cock belonging in my mouth?”
“Fuck,” he groans as he lifts me up at the hips, my pussy at his disposal as he runs his cock over it, but it doesn’t seem to be enough, because he lets me fall to the bed right before he rips my underwear off. My left leg is dragged up and over his shoulder and he spreads my other leg wide. When I’m in the position he wants me in, he drags his bare cock over my clit again, but this time, he can feel my piercing.
“Fucking . . . hell,” he groans, now pumping faster.
He never penetrates me.
He never kisses me.
He never lets me get too close, just close enough to drive both of us nuts.
The euphoric, light feeling of my orgasm climbs with every thrust, with the feel of his balls slapping against me, with his cock sliding over my pubic bone, with the look of utter confusion, yet snapping desire, on his face.
“I need to know that I can come,” I say, knowing he’s the type of man who controls everything in the bedroom. When his eyes land on mine, I wet my lips and say, “I won’t come until you say I can.”
“That’s not my choice,” he says.
“I want it to be. I want you to own me.”
His teeth push into his bottom lip as his head falls forward. “Fuck, Lilly. Don’t do this to me . . .”
“Tell me, Keller, tell me when I can come.”
He picks up his pace, my piercing sending waves of pleasure through me, my orgasm right there, on the edge, teetering. I can only hang on for so long until I combust. What he’s doing is too delicious.
“Please, Keller, I want to come. Please let me come.”
“Mother . . . fucker,” he groans out, and then he digs his fingers so hard into my sides that my orgasm starts to ripple.
“Please, Keller, please give me permission.”
“Fuck, Lilly. Come . . . Jesus Christ, come.”
His command shakes me to my core as I let myself go, my orgasm clenching my body, pulling in tight to my center, only to shoot out through my limbs. I grip the comforter beneath me as my back arches and I moan out his name.
“Keller, yes, oh my God, your cock . . .”
“Fuck. FUCK!” he says even louder as he stills, shoots his cum all over my stomach, drop after drop, until he’s completely spent.
So fucking good, but still my body is begging for more. And from the pulse of his muscles, I can tell he’s feeling the same way.
His grip lightens up and his drowsy eyes focus on mine. “Shit, Lilly.” He drops my leg from his shoulder and backs away as he stuffs his half-hard cock in his underwear. “What the fuck did I do?”
I sit up on my elbows. “Don’t. Don’t you dare fucking regret this.”
He stares at me, his mind racing, the insecurity of his thoughts clearly pulsing through him. It takes him one freaking second to realize what he’s done has crossed all his boundaries, has torn down his walls, has created a situation so grand in his head that the only response he can muster is . . . walking away.
To my dismay, he turns on his heel and exits my room.
Goddamn it!
I groan out a frustrated sigh and flop back on the bed, draping my arm over my eyes. What the hell is wrong with him? Why can’t he get over this idea that he can’t be with me? He clearly wants to be. He wants me just as much as I want him, so why can’t he just let that happen?
Doesn’t he see the absolute torment he’s putting us both through?
Tears spring to the corners of my eyes, my frustration overflowing.
And then, the creak of a board. I open my eyes just in time to see him bend over me with a warm cloth that he drags over my stomach, cleaning up his mess.
When he’s done, he takes my hand and lifts me to a seated position. From the ground, he picks up my shirt and helps me put it back on. Once I’m dressed, he pulls down the blankets of my bed and picks me up, only to place me under the covers. The way he handles me brings forth a whole new sense of serve and protect, but it also causes my throat to grow tight. Because I want this.
I want his gentle touch.
I want his aftercare.
I want him.
“Keller—”
He leans over my head, bringing his mouth close to mine, silencing me before I can even start saying what’s on my mind. Quietly, he says, “I can’t have you, Lilly.”
His sentence slices through me like a sharp blade. I should’ve known that’s what he was going to say, but I can’t give up on him. We’re so close.
I sift my hand through the hair on the back of his neck. “Don’t pull away, Keller. Please don’t.”
“That’s the fucked-up part, Lilly.” He lowers his head, shaking it. I wait with bated breath as he gathers himself, and when our eyes lock again, he repeats, “I can’t have you, but I also can’t NOT have you.” His voice is a growl, a proclamation, and before I can respond, his mouth descends upon mine.
And he kisses me.
Actually freaking kisses me.
Shocked, stunned, and relieved, I hold him in place as I part my lips, letting him slip his tongue into my mouth, where he tangles with mine. He rests some of his weight on the side of my bed as our kiss intensifies, as my hands dig into his scalp. I never want him to leave.