Ignite Me (The Annihilate Me Series) (22 page)

But who was I
now in a situation such as this?
 
I
sure as hell didn’t know.
 
In the
end, I just placed the palms of my hands over my naked stomach, which felt
stilted to me.
 
Rigid.
 
But what in hell was I to do with
them?
 
Spread my legs and press them
against my sex?
 
Oh,
that
would be subtle.
 
In the end, I had
no time to do anything with my hands, because behind the doors, I heard Brock
say my name: “Madison?”

Oh, shit . . .

“I’m in here,”
I said, and when I said it, I could hear the nervousness, the fear, the thrill,
and the self-doubt in my voice.
 
Had
I gone too far too quickly by disrobing like this?
 
Maybe Brock had wanted to do that
himself?
 
I didn’t know.
 
At this point, I felt like a damned
amateur.
 

What I did know
was that tonight was about us coming together sexually, and I also knew with
certainty that I didn’t want to wait a moment longer for that to happen.
 
So, I let my arms drop to my sides and
decided to forget about what he might like to see when he opened those doors,
and instead just be myself.

The pocket
doors slid open—and there stood Brock in shadow, with the light from the
living room backlighting him.
 
Wordlessly, he remained motionless for several moments while he stared at
me.
 
I tried to get a read on the
expression on his face, but I couldn’t see anything because his face was in
complete darkness, which was frustrating beyond hell.

When he didn’t
move, I felt more exposed than ever, my face flushed from embarrassment and with
the clear sense that I’d taken this way too far too soon.
 
And then I felt my stomach twist with
tension since I was, after all, practically naked to him.

But then, in
one quick, fluid motion, Brock took off his jacket and threw it like a shadow
across the room.
 

It hit one of
the windows overlooking Fifty-Eighth Street before it fell to the carpet.
 
The act alone was enough to make me
wince with pleasure, if only because of how aggressive he was behaving.
 

Next, off came
his shirt.
 
And then his pants.
 
For a moment, it appeared as if he was
about to take off his black boxer briefs when he seemed to check
himself—and instead walked toward the bed.

“You’re a
feast,” he said as he crept onto the bed and our nearly naked bodies touched
for the first time.
 
With his smooth
torso against mine, I felt the warmth of his skin, and an ache in my loins, and
yet when we touched, it was nothing short of a chill as I started to tremble.

“Are you all
right?” he asked.

“I don’t want
to disappoint you.
 
Brock, it’s been
so long. . . .”
 

“It’s been as
long for me.
 
And by the way, you’re
fucking beautiful.”

“I’m nervous,”
I said.

“Don’t be.”

“It’s just that
. . .”

“I get it,
Madison.
 
And this is just one of
the many reasons I’m so taken by you.
 
You don’t know it, but you could have your choice of any man in this
city, and yet for some reason that will forever remain a mystery to me, you’ve
chosen to be with me.
 
I can’t wrap
my head around that, but I’m not about to argue with it.
 
So let me take the lead.
 
Let me take you to places you’ve never
been before.
 
By the time I’m
finished with you, you’re going to be crying out for more.
 
And when you do?
 
I’ll only want to give you more.
 
That is, of course, if you can handle
it.
 
Though I have to say that at
this moment, I’m not so certain that you can.”
 

He kissed me
when he said that, and then he smiled.
 

“Unless, of
course, you want to prove me wrong,” he said.

CHAPTER
TWENTY

After he said
that to me, Brock kissed me full on the lips before he moved down to my neck
and then to the tips of my concealed breasts, where he gently bit one of my
protruding nipples before he teased it by flicking it with the tip of his
tongue.

And then he
stopped to look up at me.

“I’m going to
make you come so many times, you’ll know why this is right between us, Madison,
and you’ll soon forget any doubts you might have had about us in the first
place.”

When he said
that, I felt a part of me fall away as he began to kiss me around my belly
button, which was enough to make me arch my back and reach out to grasp the silk
bedspread on either side of me, an act that just encouraged him even more.
 
My stomach was one of the most sensitive
parts of my body, and with Brock’s beard brushing against my skin along with
his lips and tongue, I was pretty much doomed to a lingering moment of
delicious agony if he didn’t move on soon.

And he
did.
 
Without warning, he lowered
his head and kissed my sex through the fabric of my lace panties before he
tasted my inner thighs in ways that felt at once heavenly and forbidden.
 
A deep murmur came from the base of his
throat as he made his way toward my feet.
 
I looked down at him at that moment and saw a mischievous look in his
eyes when he started to kiss and suck my toes.

And when he did
that, I tried my best to keep from crying out in laughter—not that I
succeeded.
 
I’d already told him
that I was ticklish, and he clearly was getting off on torturing me with his consummate
skill.
 
From toe to toe, his lips
and his tongue traveled, which just about sent me off the bed, through the
window—and deep into the recesses of New Jersey.

This was the
first time that I’d been with a man who enjoyed having a bit of fun in the
bedroom.
 
The few men I’d been with
in college had been young, serious, and diligent lovers.
 
Without much foreplay, they just got
down to business and tried their best to get the job done, generally within ten
minutes.
 
None of them had every
fully satisfied me.
 
But they also
hadn’t fully disappointed me, if only because all of my experiences with men
had seemed indistinguishable from the last and the next.
 
Sex had always been a quick affair that
had left me wanting, for what I didn’t know.

But I knew now,
because now I was Brock.
 
Already
the difference was there, and it was not only seismic, but I could tell that
having sex with him was going to be something of an adventure.
 
His touch was light but assured.
 
It’s not that he lacked
aggression—far from it.
 
Aggression seemed to fuel his every move.
 
The difference is that his aggression
was backed with a sense of intensity and also a sense of humor that underscored
his confidence in the bedroom.

“You
are
ticklish,” he said.

“I’m literally
biting my tongue right now,” I said.

“Well, don’t go
and put welts on it,” he said.
 

“Not a choice
if you intend to keep that up!”

Brock hummed in
pleasure when I said that, and then he slid up the length of my body and gave
me a kiss that was so deep and meaningful, it was clear that he wasn’t only
enjoying himself, but that he also was a skilled lover.
 
Intuitively, he seemed to know exactly
what to do and which areas of my body were the most sensitive.
 
He was as talented and as sensuous as I
thought he’d be, and it showed in ways that my lack of experience had probably
already revealed itself to him.
 

Was that a mark
against me?
 
I wasn’t sure.
 
Perhaps he saw my lack of experience as
something that just needed a serious bit of home-schooling.
 

At least I
hoped that was the case.

And it
was.
 
The more that he touched
me—and the more that I responded to him—the less nervous I
became.
 
He was in control of the
situation in ways that I wasn’t, and he seemed thrilled to be in that
position.
 
On one level, it was as
if I was his student, and he was about to give me one hell of a lesson in love-making.
 

And because of
that alone, I remained in a blissful kind of delirium.

“Your legs,” he
said, as he scooted down and lifted my right leg high in the air as he began to
massage my calf.
 
“They’re
beautiful.
 
Why can’t I wait to have
them wrapped around my ass?
 
To have
them pressed against me as I thrust into you?
 
Do you know the answer to that,
Madison?”

When you talk
to me like that, I know absolutely nothing, Brock.

I didn’t
respond because, in truth, I was speechless.
 
Not that that deterred him.
 
He had already moved on to other parts
of my body—specifically my breasts.

“May I?” he asked
as he hooked his fingers around the sides of my bra strap.

With my eyes
now fully adjusted to the dim bedroom lighting, I could see his face
clearly—as well as the desire stamped upon it.

“Do you really
need to ask?” I said.
 
“Do what you
want with me.”

“Anything I
want?”

I wanted to
bite my lip when he said that, but I didn’t.
 
A part of me wanted to start challenging
him as much as he was challenging me.
 

“Anything,” I
said.

With a
quickness that startled me, his hands deftly slid behind my back and unhooked
my bra with ease, and when he removed it, there was delight in his eyes when my
breasts were exposed.

“You’re
perfect,” he said.

My breasts were
the best part of my body.
 
Despite
how thin I was, God had nevertheless decided to grant me with one hell of a
rack.
 
But still I said nothing,
because I knew that, given the models he’d slept with, certainly he must have
seen better than mine.

“But you don’t
know that, do you?” he said, his face hovering just above mine.
 
“That’s one of the things that drives me
crazy about you, Madison.
 
Your
modesty.
 
The idea that you don’t
know how fucking sexy you are.
 
Take
my hand,” he said, holding it out to me.

I took it, and
he pressed it against his heart.

“Do you feel
that?” he asked.

His heart was pounding
in his chest—of course I could feel it.

“Yes,” I said.

“I’m as turned
on as you are right now,” he said.
 
“And it’s not just because we’re about to make love.
 
It’s deeper than that.
 
And I can’t explain it.
 
But I have to accept it for what it is,
because I already know that what’s happening between us right now is as rare as
it is special.
 
I’ve never felt this
way for another woman.
 
And that’s
the truth.”

“Brock,” I
said.

“I can feel you
trembling,” he said in my ear.
 
“And
I understand why.
 
But why don’t we
just let go of everything in our pasts, all of our disappointments, and enjoy
this for what it is—an amazement.
 
This isn’t just sex, is it?
 
No, it isn’t.
 
Not for me,
and I can see by the look in your eyes that it isn’t for you.
 
Both of us know that we’re taking a
risk, but we’re worth that risk, aren’t we?
 
I think that we are—so let’s not
hold anything back.”

How did we even
get here?
 
Was I actually falling in
love with this man?
 
After only a
week?
 
That seemed impossible to me—wholly
ridiculous to me—but I would be a liar if I said otherwise because right
now I felt that something profound was occurring between us.
 
Something that I would indeed remember
for years to come, which is what I wanted from him when I agreed to this in the
Park.

Wordlessly, I
wrapped a hand around his neck, pulled him in close to me, and we kissed so
heatedly, it seemed as if the bed disappeared beneath me and I went into a free
fall.

“Make love to
me,” I said.

“I need to get
you ready first. . . .”

“I’m ready now.”

“You’ll enjoy
it more if I first tend to you properly, Madison.
 
Trust me on this.”

“What does that
mean?”
 

He blinked at
me.

“I told you
that I’m ready,” I said.

“I don’t think
you are.”

“But I am.”

“Give me your
hand again.”

I gave it to
him—and when I did, he lowered it to the erection jutting from his boxer
briefs, and at that moment, I understood completely.
 
Brock was heavily endowed.
 
If he wasn’t careful with me, he could
split me in half with what he had between his legs.

“Oh,” I said.

He grinned when
I said that, and then he kissed me on the mouth again.
 
“Now, just let me take over, OK?
 
I promise that I’ll be gentle with you.”

“I’m pretty
sure that you’re going to have to be.”

“And I will.”

Without missing
a beat, he snaked his way down from my breasts to my belly, glanced up at me as
he parted my legs, and then with a quick tug, he pulled off my panties and
spread my thighs wide.
 

Cool air
brushed against me, quickly erased by the warmth of his breath.
 
His head lowered from sight, and then
his tongue plunged inside of me, which made me want to scream out because it
felt so good.
 
He covered my clit
with his mouth, sucked on it and swirled his tongue around it, and while he
licked and tasted me, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could wait for him to
enter me.
 

“What are you
doing to me?”

“Anything you
want me to do to you.
 
Isn’t that
what you asked?”

“It’s too
much.”

“It hasn’t even
begun.”

And it
hadn’t.
 
For what felt like at least
ten minutes, he took his time preparing me, first with his mouth and then with
his hands.
 
First one
finger—and then another, and finally another—until I felt so full
and wet and horny that he quickly and unexpectedly pushed me toward the edge of
climax.
 

When I came the
first time, he caught it just before it happened, raced up the length of my
body, and took one of my nipples in his mouth, biting it just hard enough to
lift me off the bed and into his arms as my climax shuddered through me.
 
He held me as I pulsed against him, but
he didn’t hold me for long.
 
Instead,
he lifted me up, I hooked one arm around his neck, and reached out and placed
my free hand against his taut stomach and those incredibly corded abs.
 
Only when I was lying back on the bed
again did Brock get on top and mount me.
 
And when he did, I took a sharp breath that caught in my throat.
 

My first
thought was that he was too big, but as he moved inside of me, filling me with
his impossible length and girth, it was desire that shot through me, not the
pain I’d been expecting, because Brock knew exactly what he was doing.
 
When we were one and he bent his head
down to kiss me as he rocked into me, I knew in my soul that this man was meant
for me.
 

“Are you OK?”
he asked me.

“Oh, yes.”

With slow,
rhythmic strokes, he drove into me.
 
With my eyes locked onto his, I felt myself open up to him without ever
once looking away.
 
As our pace
quickened, I saw his lips part in desire as my body soared to heights I’d never
experienced before.
 
And only when
it was clear to him that I was ready for something more aggressive did he even
dare to go there.

Gradually, he
dominated my body and my soul.

He slid me down
the length of the bed, grabbed me by the ankles, and kissed each of them before
he entered me with a quick thrust that caused me to cry out in
pleasure—not pain—as the moment escalated between us.

I touched his
muscular, slightly hairy chest, tweaked his nipples between my fingertips, and
because I wanted to see what he could take, I pressed them as hard as I could, which
caused his head to rear back.
 
He
let out a primal moan that not only delighted me, but also seemed to excite him
even more as he started to pound into me.
 
With our bodies now covered in sweat, our skin was slick as he bucked
and reared against me.
 
I turned my
head to the left and right as I felt myself growing close to orgasm again.