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IF I WASN’T ALREADY in love with Annabelle, that blow job would have done it. I don’t care how shallow that sounds. Her mouth was paradise, but that wasn’t the only thing that made it great. The eye contact she kept with me, the genuine interest and fascination she had for my cock, the single-mindedness she showed about draining my fucking balls. Nobody has ever made me feel like that. Like the goal of sucking dick was the journey, not the destination.
And it was her first time. My dick jumps a little at the thought of what years of practice together might accomplish. I can’t wait to take her to bed tonight, but I’m also looking forward to taking her to bed ten years from tonight.
She put her shirt on before sitting at my kitchen counter to drink her wine and watch me cook. She didn’t button it, though, so it’s taking a lot of concentration for me to look her in the eyes when we’re talking instead of trying to get glimpses of all that creamy skin.
“So, what do you think will happen after we stop dating in a month? Will they just line up and start harassing you again?” She sips her wine casually, like it’s no big deal to talk about breaking up, and I have to turn away to not show how pissed off that makes me. “I guess we could make a very dramatic ending so you can nurse a broken heart for a while.” She snorts like it wouldn’t be possible for her to break my heart.
I toss the pan with the bread on it down hard enough to clatter. “Why don’t you want me to fall in love with you?”
Her eyes widen in surprise. “I told you that was a joke.”
Keep it cool, bro. “But it wasn’t. Not really. What’s your hang-up about relationships? I’m just curious.”
“Let’s just say I didn’t have a very good example growing up.”
“Your parents split up?” I know that happened to a lot of my friends growing up. Most of them really. My folks are still together, and they seem happy enough.
“Five times. Well, my mom and my five step-dads anyway.”
I pause my cutting of the garlic bread. “Five?”
Annabelle nods and drains her glass. “My mother is an optimist.” She snorts again. “I never met my real dad. He was never in the picture. But she kept trying to give me one. She’s married again, but I no longer count her husbands as stepfathers since I moved out.”
Five step-dads? “That must have been tough growing up.” And confusing as hell.
“Those are just the ones she married. There were more boyfriends. A couple of them were real jerks.” Her voice gets quiet and my hackles go up.
“Did they hurt you?”
She shakes her head. “No, nobody was abusive—physically or mentally. The nice ones actually hurt me more. I’d get used to them, start liking them, one even talked about giving me his last name and adopting me. And then they would leave. They always left.” Her little shoulder shrug is more telling than she thinks.
“And your mom?”
“My mom is a character. She means well. She fell in love with all of them. You could always tell when she was starting to fall in love. She’d get this light in her eye and be so happy. Giddy, really. But then she’d start changing—like she was some kind of relationship chameleon. She’d start watching a new sports team or take up a new hobby, ignoring the ones she liked when she was single. She’d talk differently, dress differently. Whatever it took to make him like her more. She was never a bad mom or anything, but I always knew I was in the way. Love was her drug and she was an addict. And it would always take me awhile to learn how to deal with this new woman she was becoming. And then she’d win the guy—they’d start dating or he’d move in—sometimes getting married and sometimes not. And things would be good for a bit, but it never lasted.”
I refill her glass. “So you don’t think love lasts.”
“I’m not sure it exists. She’s certain it does—but she has to change to get it, to be worthy of it. And then she can’t keep up the facade. I don’t really blame the men—they were tricked into falling for someone she was only pretending to be.”
Well, hell. I have a lot of work to do. All this time, I thought her fears were about her self-confidence and body image. But her scars go deeper than that. I’m not stupid, but I’m not a real brainiac either. And I don’t think I’m the toxic kind of “bro,” but I’m not exactly Mr. Sensitive either. Maybe she needs more than I can give her.
I reach across the counter between us and cover her hand with mine. It feels right. It feels strong and certain. That’s when I know if she needs more than I can give her, I’ll figure out how to give her more.
“I think love exists.” I squeeze her hand. “I think people make it harder than it has to be sometimes. It’s not about changing to be with someone, and it’s not looking for someone who is ‘perfect.’ Both people have to change a little. And it’s not about how someone dresses or what sports team they like.”
“I just promised myself I would never change who I am for a man.”
I think what she did was create an armor for herself, but I know enough not to tell her that.
I serve her a nice dinner, not gourmet or anything. And we move to the couch after. She buttoned her shirt when she used the bathroom earlier, but I am making plans to get it off her again.
“So tell me more about you,” she says when I pull her feet into my lap and remove her shoes.
“What do you want to know?”
“Why are you going to business school? Oh, that feels really nice.”
I keep rubbing her feet and feel the muscles melting like butter. “I want my own brewery.”
“Beer?”
“Yeah, some. I have a setup at my folks’ house for my experiments, but someday I’d like a commercial place. I’m working on a recipe for spruce tip beer, actually.
“Like gruit ale?”
I raise my eyebrows. “You really do know something about everything.” Unhopped ale from Northern Europe is not usually a topic of interest.
She ducks her head shyly. “I don’t know about everything, but I do know a lot about the Nordic culture. The Vikings fascinate me.”
I can’t stop smiling like I did when I was fourteen and got asked to my first Sadie Hawkins dance by a girl in my class. This woman makes me feel so many different feelings at once. “You know I’m Norwegian, right?”
“Your name sort of gives it away.”
“Both sides. My mom’s maiden name is Anker. Long line of seafaring Swedes. But the Beck line is long and hearty too.”
I give her a rundown of the brewing process which seems to keep her interest riveted. She tells me things I didn’t know about my ancestors. I’m torn between wanting to talk to her all night and wanting to get her naked and under me.
She groans a little when I press a tight spot on her left heel. “So why did you serve me wine tonight instead of your own brew?”
“I’ve seen you order wine. Wine and Shirley Temples, which I have the ingredients for if you’d rather have a glass of that.” I move my hands up her legs, working out the muscles of her calves. “And of course the whipped cream.”
She leans back and sighs. “A girl could get used to this.”
“My evil plan is working then.”
She lifts her head. “I don’t understand you. Why are you putting all this effort into seducing me? I’m a sure thing.”
My hands pause. “Why don’t you think you’re worth the effort?”
“It just seems like a lot of work when it was my idea to have sex in the first place.”
I don’t know how I know, but she needs me to take charge again. Which I love doing. She wants a dominant, demanding lover and I’m happy to oblige.
“You’re right.” I sweep her feet off my lap and stand, pulling her up with me. “Come on then. Let’s go to bed.”
Her face registers shock, but she starts walking toward my bedroom. When we get there, I begin lighting the candles. She watches me, not saying anything. I toss the lighter onto the dresser and pull off my shirt, She takes the hint and starts unbuttoning her blouse. I stalk over to her and tear it open the rest of the way, the buttons clattering to the floor. She gasps, and I keep tearing it off her body. “I am going to make you come so many times tonight you’re going to need an IV to replace your fluids. I’m going to show you with my hands and my mouth and my big, hard cock how much effort you’re worth. You’re going to be sore tomorrow. From my cock and my teeth and my fingers. No part of you isn’t going to feel my attention and all my fucking effort.”
I take her mouth, almost viciously, and she opens right up. My tongue thrusts in, a blatant mimicry of what my cock was doing earlier, and she moans as I release the clasp of her bra. I toss it to the floor and pull her into my chest, needing to feel her skin to skin. When she wraps her arms around my neck, I feel like a man who has everything he ever wanted, right there in his arms.
My hands squeeze her hips as hard as I dare. I don’t want to bruise her, but there is a primal urge to mark her again. I kiss down her jaw and into her neck. When I get to that sweet spot on her nape, the one that makes her quiver in my arms, I tell her, “When I come, I’m going to bite you right here.”
She shivers. “God, when you talk like that it makes me feel like I’m about to come.”
“So responsive, gorgeous.” I lead her to the bed and run my hand up her legs under her skirt, surprised to find her moist pussy and no panties. “All night? You’ve been here all night with no panties?” She smiles and it’s as evil as it is sweet. I tug down the waistband of her skirt, throwing it off the bed. “You’ll pay for being such a tease, I promise.” I arrange her limbs spread-eagle and just stare in awe at her. “Don’t you dare move,” I say when I see her start to be embarrassed.
I get up and shuck my clothes, my cock painfully hard already. I come back to the bed and stare at her long enough for her to fidget. “Don’t. Move.”
Kissing her chin then down to her throat, I work my way around her neck again, nuzzling once more into the sensitive skin of her nape. She gasps and shivers, arching off the bed.
My hands roam lightly up her arms until my fingers entwine with hers, pinning her hands to the bed as I reach down to kiss her glossy lips. “I love these lips, gorgeous. The way they look wrapped around my dick. Fuck. You made me feel so good.”
My hands trail from her face, down her neck, and gently onto her shoulders, running my fingertips across her chest before following around the bottoms of her huge tits. God, I really love these tits. Taking them in both hands, I tighten my grip, feeling the soft flesh in my palms. I massage both breasts, pushing them together and bringing them apart, taking care not to touch her erect nipples. “Tell me you like this, baby.”
“Oh, Anker. I love it.”
Using just my fingertips, I begin tracing long, slow circles around the base of her breast, working my way up to her nipple. She sighs and arches toward my touch.
“I told you that I would make you pay for not wearing panties. Now my little tease is going to get hers. You can moan and arch all you want to, but I’m taking my time with you.” My fingers circle just outside of her areolas, never retreating, just teasing, always on the edge of the sensitive, puckered flesh. After a while, she lets out a slow, frustrated moan. I let my finger graze her nipple, and she squeals.
Lowering my head, I snake the tip of my tongue around Annabelle's rosy areola, slowly making a small circle before taking a long lick against the underside of her hardened nipple, rolling my tongue around it until I cover the entire nub. As I tongue the straining nipple, I reach to take her other nipple between my fingers. She sighs deeply, arching her heaving chest as close to me as possible. I can smell her arousal, and my dick aches in anticipation.
Removing my mouth from her delectable tit, I use my hands to tweak both nipples as I slowly kiss down her rounded stomach. I dip my tongue into her navel and then rasp my beard against the sensitive skin of her middle as I work down, kissing and nibbling down her waist, bypassing that sweet, juicy pussy no matter how much I want to bury my tongue in her.
I use my hands to trace the skin of her thighs, working up close to, but never right where she wants me. Needs me.
“Please,” she urges.
“Please what, babe?” I ask as I nip her thigh.
“Touch me,” she whimpers.
Running one finger along the crease of her pussy lips, I ask, “Like this?”
She gasps and bucks her hips wildly. “Touch me,” she repeats with more intensity, her voice desperate.
“I could do this all night, Annabelle. And I love hearing you beg. I get off on it.”
She lets out a frustrated moan, her balled fists tighten on the pillow where I demanded she leave them. “You’re so mean.”
I smile and spread her pussy lips wide, stroking her drenched slit slowly. “I can be meaner. You better beg me harder.” I bring my wet finger to my mouth and taste her.
It’s my turn to moan.
“You taste so good. I don’t even want the whipped cream. I just want the taste of you on my tongue.”
“Please. Please. Please,” she begs.
I return my finger to her core, slowly dragging it through the sweetness, and give her clit a small flick, catching her off guard.
Bringing my face back down, I lick her thighs. My head canted down between her legs, I give her one last look from beneath my brows, waiting until she makes eye contact with me. I flick my tongue up her slit while she’s looking at me.
The reaction is immediate. Annabelle's back arches further than it has all night, her hips humping air looking for my tongue again but finding nothing, She cries out in frustration.
I’m an evil bastard.
My finger makes another slow trip up her pussy, circling her pearl ever so gently before working its way back down. I can’t get enough of the sounds she is making. Her moans and sighs, the pleading. The next time my hand makes its journey, I touch her throbbing little clit lightly.
“Tell me you’re mine.”
“Yes.”
“Say it.”
“I’m yours!” She sobs when I barely graze her clit again. “I’m yours. You can do whatever you want to me. Please just use me.”
I rub my palm directly over her mound, and she bucks into my hand. I pull it away and she starts to reach out for me. “Don’t move your hands,” I demand. “I like playing with you. And you fucking love it.”
“No,” she insists.
I rise up over her and kiss her deeply, using two fingers to rub her until she’s moaning into my mouth. I work them inside her, stroking and massaging her internal channel.
“You’re so tight. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.”
“Babe, your first time...”
“I haven’t been with anyone else, but I do have a battery-operated boyfriend. Granted, he’s not as big as you, but...”
“Oh, fuck. You shouldn’t have told me that.” I bend my fingers, searching for one spot in particular. “That’s hot as fuck, thinking of you working yourself with a toy. Now I’m going to make you pay for teasing me again.” I graze her G-spot, then remove my hand and move back to her tits. Between sucking her nipples, I tell her, “You’re going to show me sometime. I’m going to watch you make yourself come on that toy.”
She makes a keening noise, so I bring my fingers back to her opening, rubbing my thumb on her clit, situating myself so I can get another taste of her. I barely replace my thumb with my mouth when her internal walls clamp around my fingers. She’s bucking against my face and crying my name, gushing so sexily. As soon as she comes down, I go at her again, avoiding her clit until she begs me to touch it.
Instead, I rise over her and tap my iron-hard prick on her juicy, wet mound.
“Yes! Please fuck me.”
“Such a naughty, greedy, impatient girl.” I probe her entrance with just the tip, torturing us both. “I can’t wait to fuck you. You’re so tight, babe.”
I lower myself onto her body so I can feel all of her against me.
“Can I move my arms now?” she asks.
“God, yes. Please,” I answer, and she immediately wraps both her arms and legs around me. Sparks ignite under my skin everywhere we touch.
I work my dick in a little further. She may not have a hymen, but she’s tight, and I need to know she’s ready before I impale her. I rest my forehead against hers and grit my teeth to keep myself still. “Do you want me to come inside you or pull out when I come?”
“Inside.”
I groan. It won’t be long. “The pill isn’t one-hundred percent effective.” I sound like a fucking pamphlet from the doctor’s office. “And the thought of putting a baby in you—” I can’t stop myself from sliding in further.
“Is it weird that it turns me on? Is that wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong that happens in our bed.” I push further, groaning as she stretches around me. “Fucking a baby into you gets me hotter than anything.” Primal urges. Biology. Whatever it is, thinking about breeding makes sweat break out all over my body and my balls start twitching. “Are you okay? Does this hurt?”
“It’s...wonderful.” She cups the sides of my face and looks deeply into my eyes. “I’m so glad I waited for you.”
My chest expands with so much feeling, so much pride and awe and love, I feel like my ribs are going to crack. “You need to know something before I push all the way into you.”
“What?” she asks.
“I know you told me I wasn’t allowed to fall in love with you, but I did anyway. I love you, Annabelle.” Her eyes widen in surprise, but then I thrust the rest of the way inside her body—and hopefully her heart. “I love you and I never knew I could feel like this.” I start grinding into her, my balls pressed tight against her body.
And then there is no room for words in my brain. I ride her body with mine, faster, harder. Then harder yet. I feel her when she comes, the core of her pulsating around my shaft. Milking me. I won’t last long now.
Her nails dig into my back. “Fill me with it. I need to feel you come.”
I let loose as my orgasm roars through me like a train leaving the tracks. I have no control as I hammer into her, squeezing her tits, biting her nape, and spilling my seed inside her hot pussy in pulses that seem to go on and on. She cries my name again and takes it all.
I collapse on top of her, my heart racing, my body shaking.
And she starts sobbing.