Bookish (12 page)

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Authors: Olivia Hawthorne,Olivia Long

BOOK: Bookish
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“Fuck, love,” he said, “keep doing that and I’m going to explode.”

I instantly fell in love with the sense of power I had, that I was about to send him over the edge and could control him with my body as much as he did with mine.

“Maybe that’s what I want,” I said wantonly, laughed and barely recognized the girl I had become. I was becoming.

I pulled myself up again, thrust against him and dug my fingers into his lower back, dragging him back into my body.

He was a man on fire; he picked up speed and pounded into me, staring into my eyes as we both began the climb to our shared peak.

He held himself up on one arm and darted his hand down, found my clit and added an extra sensation that shot me into the most intense orgasm of my life.

I bucked against him, threw my head back and gripped the sheets in my fingers.

For one frozen moment, all that mattered to me were the guttural growls coming from Isaac’s throat as he thrust himself into me, the bright heat of his eyes as he watched me, the wet, slick sounds coming from the place we were joined…and my own building need to come, getting so intense it was almost painful.

Finally it filled me up so completely that it overflowed, I crashed into my orgasm with the impact of my hips on his, my back arching and my climax flowing around me in wave after wave of torrential pleasure.

He stiffened, I felt his muscles tighten under his skin, he growled my name in my ear as he covered me, completed me, and groaned his final thrust up inside of me as he came.

I felt his cock pulsate, my velvety walls trembled in kind and I discovered we were breathing in time, our harsh voices uttering illegible noises as we came down from the great height together.

We relaxed, I felt his hardness soften and recede from my wet heat, and he nuzzled my neck as we both slowed down.

I could feel his heart pounding in his chest, as if in response to my own frantic beating. I sighed and contemplated what had just happened.

My world had been torn down and rebuilt, there was Aubrey before the orgasm to end all orgasms, and Aubrey afterwards.

Sex had never been like this, it had always been polite and tidy, perfunctory maybe, done as something expected of me if I wanted to keep a man in the relationship.

This was messy, dirty, fun, noisy, and most of all, fucking incredible and all consuming.

I finally understood what everything was about, what drove this mad, mad world to fight and love and fuck and declare war and desire peace.

It was all built on this insanely addicting emotional response to a simple biological act.

But when you did this thing with the right person, that person who made your heart zing every time you saw them smile, or that person who made you pace your room waiting for a single word on your phone from them, or that person who made you reconsider everything you’d ever thought you’d known about love and how human beings felt around each other…well, hell, then all bets were off.

I laid there in his arms, felt him reach down, knot the condom and toss it off the side of the bed somewhere, and I smiled. I laughed, and I started to giggle, almost uncontrollably.

And I never giggled uncontrollably, almost or otherwise.

He curled an arm around me, pulled me to his chest and asked, “Is something funny, love?”

“Not funny,” I said and stifled another laugh, “amazing.”

“Thank god,” he replied, “I thought you were laughing at my willy and I might have to spank you.”

I stiffened in response and wiggled my ass a little, “Oh, Mr. James, what would a girl have to do to get a good spank around here?”

Where were these words coming from? I felt so light, so free with him right then.

“Just be delicious,” he said and rose up, nibbling my neck and ticking me, “just be you, Ms. Britton. Simply be as wonderful and gorgeous as yourself, and a spanking awaits.”

I struggled to get away, but not very well. Let’s face it; I didn’t want to get away.

He nibbled and tickled his way to my ass and gave me a firm bite. I squealed and giggled again, but he held my hands behind my back in one of his massive ones, and gave me a light tap.

“Is that all you’ve got?” I dared him and rolled over onto my stomach. I stuck my bottom in the air and felt a small, scared, logical part of myself recoil in horror at my bold moves.

I shushed her down though, as the newly rebuilt sex addicted Aubrey was now at the helm.

He nibbled my bum again and I squealed. “You are asking for it now, Ms. Britton,” he growled and spanked me harder.

I hoped he had many more condoms in his night stand. I had a feeling we would need them.

And I couldn’t wait to find out how far this newly rebuilt Aubrey would want to go.

 

Chapter Fifteen

 

Some time in the middle of the night I woke to the most exquisite sensation.

Isaac had crawled under the light blanket covering us and was sliding his tongue up and down my cleft, kissing my pussy as he would my mouth.

I reached for his head and hung on as he brought me to another insanely intense orgasm and left me panting and almost sobbing from the pleasure. His hot mouth on my body, his hands massaging me, the noises he made when he moved against me, it was all so unreal it felt like some delicious dream.

He slid his tongue up my body until he rested with his head curled in the curve of my neck. “Hello, love,” he said and kissed my throat.

“Hello, Mr. James,” I said and stretched, feeling a little luxurious and indulgent myself. I imagined myself as Elizabeth Hurley, with a lean, beautiful body and crisp British accent. I smiled and sleepily stroked Isaac’s hair. In moments I realized his breathing was steady and he was deep asleep against me, his arms wrapped around my body and his face on my neck.

He mentioned at some point that he didn’t cuddle, that he was a little strange when it came to sleeping with somebody. When he’d told me, I’d taken it as a warning of sorts, letting me know he’d roll off me and head to his side of the bed if we were ever together.

I closed my eyes and felt his breath on my skin, ran my hand down his back, felt his muscles bulge even when they were slack, and smiled. I won’t lie; it was a pretty smug smile, full of self satisfaction.

I’d tamed Isaac James, hottest man in the world if you haven’t heard me say it before now. I’d tamed him and had him curled against my body as if we were just any normal couple on any night in any city in the world.

 

***

 

I woke with a start and extricated myself from Isaac’s arms. I’d been in the midst of a dream, a dark place where I heard the screech of metal and the screams of my mother while she realized we were about to be hit. Our car was about to be hit.

I hadn’t been there the night they’d been shot, but I dreamt of their deaths repeatedly since the moment I’d found out.

In every scenario I was there, they were dying somehow, and I was helpless to save them.

I know a therapist would have a field day with my head, and all my mommy and daddy issues, but right then I needed to splash some water on my face and stare at myself in the mirror for a moment or two to ground myself, shed the feelings of horror that were coursing through my body.

Isaac’s bathroom was huge, clean and modern. The lights were a little too bright though, and I looked ghastly under the harsh glow. I could see every darker patch of skin, every wrinkle, every vein just under the skin.

How could he ever find me beautiful?

The terror from my dream translated itself into a heightened anxiety now, a distinct sense that I wasn’t good enough for him, that he was using me as a joke maybe.

“Aubrey, love,” he called from the bed, “is everything okay?”

I hadn’t realized he was awake, and I hadn’t paid attention to how much time I’d spent staring at myself in the mirror, hating my chin, my nose, my sallow skin.

That was one of the glaring issues when you were with a perfect man; your own imperfections became magnified.

Could I handle being in the spotlight like this?

“I’m okay,” I called back, “I’m fine.”

I washed my hands and went back to bed, trying desperately to shake off the lingering effects of the dream.

He lifted the covers and helped me snuggle in against him, his warm body enveloped me and his scent washed over me. How could he smell so damn good after a night of sweaty sex? He really was so amazing, almost unbelievable.

“Is something wrong?” he asked and kissed the top of my head. I sighed and listened to his heart beat through his thick chest.

“I’m okay,” I replied.

He laughed, “So that means something’s up. I’ve learned at least that much about you.”

He was perceptive. Damn it. “Just a bad dream,” I said and closed my eyes, willing him to stop probing for answers.

He persisted, “What was it about?” He stroked my hair and soothed me; I felt the anxiety leaving my body as he moved his hands over me.

“Nothing much, something stupid,” I said and let the moment of bliss soak into every cell in my body. With no more than a touch and some kind words, Isaac made me feel as though nothing could harm me. I was safe in his arms, and he wasn’t even trying.

“Tell me about it,” he said, “we all have nightmares. Sometimes they disappear like so much smoke when you get them out of your head.”

I don’t know what it was about him, about the way he spoke or the way he held me, but I opened up. I always assumed somebody would crack me open like a walnut or something one day, that I couldn’t keep closed off and keep my secret fears to myself forever, but I always envisioned it as a struggle, a forced process.

In his arms it was natural, I bloomed like a flower and it all came tumbling out of my mouth. “It was the same old dream I always have,” I said, “my parents are dying and I can’t save them.”

“I never wanted to ask, but I did notice that you never mentioned them. I’m sorry.”

“It happened when I was ten, they were gunned down outside a restaurant here in Seattle. Some crack head looking for his next fix the police figured. He spotted them and robbed them. He went after my mom though, and my dad stepped in. The rest, as they say, is history. My dad got the gun away before he died though, took the fucker out with them.”

“How terrifying for you,” he said, “I wish I could ease your fears and take it all away, make it all better. I know that’s not how it works though.”

The way he said it made me think he really did understand, but how could he? He’d been raised in a life of privilege.

“Thank you,” I said, “I’ll tell you more about them some time, but for now let’s just leave it at that. I don’t share details about my life that often, so you should be honored.” I looked up and smiled at him in the dim light.

He didn’t smile back, but his eyes lit with fierce pride. “I am honored,” he said, “more than you can know. And I do understand…also more than you can know.”

I left it at that; closed my eyes again and we slept. I slept, soundly, safely, and better than I had in a long time.

 

***

 

Morning light streamed through the window when I woke next. Isaac was splayed out on his back, one arm under me and wrapped around me protectively.

When I moved away, he instinctively pulled me tighter and mumbled something in his sleep.

He was gorgeous, absolutely stunning in the morning. I felt like leftovers. Like day old leftovers, reheated again and again. I don’t know how he did it, and I didn’t know if I would ever get to a point where I felt like his equal.

I threw all caution to the wind and decided to do something I’d never done before.

Wake him with a blow job. I mean, I’d given them in the past, but more half hearted obligatory things meant to get my boyfriend hard and on the way to something else.

I wanted to devour Isaac’s cock though, I had this strange hunger rising up inside of me and I needed to bring him as much joy as he brought me. Had brought me…so many times.

I wiggled under the covers and ran my hand along his muscular thighs. They were so thick and lightly haired, they almost tickled my fingers as I moved along. I was on the side of him, bent and licked his abs, ran my tongue around his belly button and followed the ridge of his V to his sleeping cock.

I grabbed it in my hand, amazed at how big it seemed even when it wasn’t erect, and wiggled myself closer. The world’s laziest blowjob, I almost giggled to myself.

I wasn’t entirely sure how to proceed, but an old joke ran through my mind. How to give a good blowjob? Use your mouth. I smiled and licked him from base to tip, feeling it harden as my tongue dragged along the shaft.

By the time I swirled my tongue around the tip, it was full hard, thick and pulsing in my hand and under my tongue.

I pushed myself up slightly and wrapped my lips around the head, pushed myself down as far as I could go and felt a shock of pleasure in my clit.

By some amazing twist of fate or freak of nature, the thought of bringing Isaac to orgasm, the thought of pleasing him, it made me vibrate with sexual excitement.

At some point as I drew myself back and forth, up and down on his cock, he woke up.

I sensed a consciousness in him, a sudden awareness of what was happening.

He threw back the covers and exhaled, “Ms. Britton, I was having the most incredible dream…” his voice trailed off and he thrust upwards, just the smallest motion but it sent a wave of bliss through my body.

He was enjoying this, and I was getting off on his enjoyment.

He grabbed a handful of my hair and I felt trapped against his cock, but this elicited a shock of joy from my clit. I wiggled myself to garner some sensation, but he surprised me by grabbing at my ass and pulling me towards him,

I rose up on my hands and knees and allowed him to position me near his face.

He reached up and stroked my pussy and I gasped, a muffled sound against his huge cock. He slid a finger between my lips and found my sweet spot immediately. I went faster on his cock, he thrust against me but not enough to choke me.

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