Punching and Kissing (14 page)

“I don’t care.” And I realized I didn’t.

“You should
.”

“Well, I don’t. I don’t care what you did in the past.”

He grimaced. I could see him tensing up, battling with himself. Any second, he was going to tear away from me and stomp away down the stairs and I might lose him forever. That was unthinkable. I grabbed his head in my hands and, this time,
I
kissed
him
, showing him how much I needed him.

He growled. “This is a bad idea.”

“No, no, it’s a good idea,” I babbled.

He stared into my eyes. The wind whipped my hair into my eyes and he brushed it away, letting the strands slide through his fingers.

“Ah, the hell with it,” he said. And kissed me full-on and completely, his whole body flattening mine against the air conditioning duct. I gave a low moan of relief. My hands came up and felt for him, grabbing at his sides through the soft cotton of his tank top. God, he felt like oak underneath. My hands had been tingling for weeks at the imagined sensation of him under my palms. Now it was real, the hard ridges of his ribs and then, sliding around, the firm muscles of his back.

His hands were under my t-shirt, lifting it up. I felt the tickle of wind and sun on my exposed sides and then the cloth was peeling up over my sports bra, off my arms...off completely. We had to break the kiss as it slid over my head and I opened my eyes, staring up at him. He held my gaze for a second...and then he looked down over my body, eating up the sight of me. The raw hunger in his eyes made me squirm, the feeling twisting down and turning to warm slickness between my thighs.

His hands stroked outwards across my stomach. Every individual cell in my skin seemed to come alive, tingling and crackling. I arched my back away from the duct, pushing myself into his hands. The pain in my side came back as I moved, but the pleasure sluiced it away. His hands slid higher and higher, moving towards my breasts.

“Wait,” he muttered. He tore himself away from me and stepped back, but only half a step. “I’m nothin’ if not a gentleman,” he said breathlessly. “I have to check you’re not concussed. You seeing double?”

There was only one gorgeous, muscled Irishman in front of me. “No,” I panted.

“Follow my finger.” He moved it back and forth in front of my eyes. I tracked it, resisting the urge to grab it and shove it into my mouth.

“What day is it?” he panted.

“Thursday!”

“Friday.” He shrugged. “Feck it. Close enough.” And he was grabbing my head between his hands again, cupping my cheeks as he kissed me. His hands were on my hips, spinning us around so that I came away from the air conditioning duct, and his hands were sliding up under my sports bra, hooking it off, peeling the fabric away from my body. My breasts lifted and then bounced free, the shock of the outdoor air on them making me gasp. He pulled my bra off and tossed it away.

I opened my eyes to see him gazing down at my breasts, his eyes heavy-lidded with lust. “Christ,” he said. “You’ve got the best tits this side of the Atlantic, girl. Feckin’ perfect.” He filled his hands with them, lifting and then squeezing with just the right amount of pressure, and I groaned. Then his thumbs started to stroke across my nipples, making them rise and harden with soft, expert swirls. I felt my hips begin to grind and thrash, trying to get friction on my sex. It was everything I could do to resist shoving my hand straight down there to rub myself. But my hands were busy exploring his back, roaming over the thick muscles of his shoulders, delighting at the way the landscape bunched and changed every time he moved.

I grabbed the hem of his tank top and pulled it up, peeling it off his muscled core and then over the wide swell of his pecs. He reluctantly let go of my breasts for a moment while it came up and over his head, then recaptured them. I slid my hands around to his front, feeling the shape of his chest, caressing the pecs and stroking my thumbs over his pink, dime-sized nipples until he growled.

He suddenly ducked down, breaking free of my hands, and I gasped as his mouth found my breast. The sun had been warm on my skin, but his lips and tongue were blazing hot. His tongue flicked over my nipple, fast and savage, then licked the smooth flesh again and again. My fingers knitted into his hair, clutching him there, never wanting to let him go.

He opened his mouth wider and engulfed as much of my breast as he could fit in, sucking me in, playing his tongue over the softness and then lashing over the nipple. I squeezed my eyes tight shut, rocked on my heels and pressed myself hard against his mouth. His hand grabbed at my other breast, squeezing and fondling, working at it with just a little roughness. Letting me know what it would be like when we got to the sex—hard and fast and unrelenting. The twisting heat inside me spun even faster.

He released my breast and I felt the sun beating down on the spit-slick skin. His hand played over it one last time, as if he couldn’t bear to let it go, and the feel of his rough thumb drawn slowly over my wet nipple nearly made me explode.

He kissed his way slowly down my stomach, each kiss feather-light and scalding hot. The sun was hot on our skin and, when I opened my eyes, it was glaringly bright. But I felt as if I was heating up from the inside, the need at my core making me glow as if I was made of hot coals, and every touch made me burn hotter. When he reached the waistband of my sweatpants, he looked up at me. It wasn’t so much a
Do you want me to?
It was more an
I’m going to: grab hold of something.

I dug my fingers into the hair at the back of his head and braced myself.

He didn’t pull my sweatpants down, as I expected. He hooked his thumbs under the waistband and folded it back on itself, baring just an inch of skin all the way around my body. That put the top of my panties on show. He kissed along the top of them, following the line from hip to hip. Then he folded back another inch, sweatpants and panties together.

I was staring down at myself and my breath caught in my throat as I saw myself bared. There was something very intense about seeing myself revealed bit by bit, and seeing him staring at me as it happened. We could see the paler skin of my pubis, now. He licked it, drawing his tongue up it in little flicks, and I growled and ground my hips.

He folded back another inch of fabric, the action more of a roll, now, and this time he revealed hair, as black as the hair on my head and gleaming in the fierce sunlight. For the first time, I glanced around. We were the tallest building for a few streets around and the wall at the edge probably shielded us from anyone on the ground, but if someone in a high-rise had binoculars….

He started kissing me through the soft curls of hair, probing through it with his tongue, touching the sensitive skin beneath. I heard him inhale the scent of me, his lungs filling, and there was something primal, almost animal about it. The sight of him crouched in front of me, his body hugely powerful compared to mine, made my head swim.

He rolled the fabric down again, the elastic tight around the middle of my ass cheeks. My breath came quicker—God, he could see me...see
everything.
I’d never been exposed like this before, outside in the bright sunlight. I almost said something—we could lie down, at least, and hide behind the wall a little. But then I felt his breath against my clit and I stiffened. His tongue flicked out, teasing the little bud, and I gasped.

Another few inches of fabric and I was bared completely, the wadded-up waistband now just under my ass cheeks. He pushed his head between my thighs, his upper lip toying with my clit, his tongue licking underneath to run the full length of my lips. I gave a little shriek and opened my legs as far as my bunched-up clothes would allow, which was only a few inches.

His mouth pressed closer. The tip of his tongue ran back and forth along the line where my lips met and I felt myself opening for him. He teased and teased and then suddenly plunged inside, with a movement that seemed to come from his whole upper body. I groaned as he slid on my inner flesh. I couldn’t believe how wet I was already.

He began to thrust with his tongue, pumping at me. At the same time, his hands grabbed my ass cheeks and began to squeeze in rhythm. I felt myself carried along by it, bucking my hips against him to the same slow beat. He angled his head, going deeper, his tongue pushing and twisting inside me. I folded at the waist, wrapping myself around him; I wanted to collapse on top of him, it felt so great. I could feel the flat of his tongue opening me up, preparing me for...I thought of the outline of his cock through his shorts. For
that.
Big and thick and long and pushing up—

I clutched at his head even harder. I wanted this, but I wanted him
—needed
him inside me. “Aedan,” I moaned. “God, Aedan….”

He started to pump his tongue faster, his upper lip rubbing back and forth over my clit, soft and smooth against the engorged little nub. I realized he had no intention of stopping.
He’s going to do it. He’s going to do it and I’m going to come, right here, on top of a goddamn building, and there’s nothing I can do about it—

He reached up with one hand and squeezed my breast again. Then he took the nipple between finger and thumb, gently drawing them along its length, and I went wild. I felt the heat twist and pull tight inside me, the pressure building and building. His tongue thrust and his lip crushed against my clit, the hardness of his mouth rolling against it, and then pinched my nipple just a little—

My fingers dug so hard into his scalp that it must have hurt. The pleasure throbbed through me in long, hot waves, making me writhe and flex. I pulled him hard against me, grinding my sex against his mouth, feeling my juices sticky against his lips. My throat hurt and I realized I was yelling something.

I slowly released him and he leaned back so that he could look up at me. There was a truly wicked grin on his face and probably a helpless, goofy one on mine.

He stood up, wrapped his arms around me, and picked me up. My breasts squashed against his naked chest and I groaned at how good it felt, how every little contact of his muscles against my nipples made me tremble. He kissed me long and deep, and I could taste myself on his lips. His hands played up and down my back and then down to my naked ass, cupping me there, handling my weight easily.

He walked me over to a clear patch of rooftop. Every step made my hardened nipples scrape against his chest, reducing me to a hot, panting mess all over again. When he finally stopped and crouched down to put me down, my mind was taffy.

My naked ass touched the sun-warm concrete first, then he rolled me gently down until my whole upper body was down and my legs were in the air. He pulled off my sneakers and pulled my bunched-up sweatpants and panties off my legs, leaving me naked. My feet flopped down, my knees bent and slightly spread, and we stared at each other. He knelt beside me, topless but otherwise decent, and I lay there naked and wanton, my body still flushed from my orgasm. I could feel his eyes roving over every inch of me and that just made me hotter.

When his gaze finally reached my face, those big blue Irish eyes were burning like fire. Keeping them locked on me, he knelt up. He pushed his pants and shorts down his legs and his cock sprang out, already rock hard.

I gulped. It was even bigger than it had looked through his clothes, with a satiny head and a thick, long shaft. The shadow of it fell across my stomach and I squirmed inside.

He stared at me, his eyes raking down the length of my body a few times and then back to my eyes. And he began to stroke himself.

I’d never had that—never had a man stroke himself at the sight of me. I wasn’t ready for what a turn on it was. There was something so completely filthy about it, especially with it happening out in the open air, with the sun warming our bodies and the breeze licking over us.

Without thinking, I slid a hand down my body and between my thighs. And I started to play my fingertips up and down over my slickened lips, watching him watching me. Staring at those ridged abs and powerful thighs. Thinking about how they’d power that thick cock into me.

We stayed there, wordlessly touching ourselves, for long minutes, the speed building slowly, until we couldn’t take it anymore. He suddenly launched himself forward with a growl and kissed me, pushing my head back against the concrete, my hair cushioning me as he ravished my mouth.

“Enough,” he told me. He rolled on the condom. “I need to fuck you.”

He pushed between my thighs and I opened them, feeling the dusty scrape of the roof under my bare feet. Then the thick head of his cock was toying with my folds. “Christ, Sylvie,” he muttered, staring down at me. “I’ve wanted this for so long. You’re fecking beautiful, girl.”

A deep, hot bomb went off in my chest. I reached up for him with both arms. “Do it,” I said breathlessly.

The tip of him parted me and then he was pushing, entering me easily. God, I don’t think I’ve ever been so wet in my life. I gave a sudden gasp as he stretched me, rocking my hips back and pressing my feet against the floor. He groaned as he pushed up into my tightness, filling me in a way that made me heady, sliding in almost to the root. He shuffled closer on his knees, his hips moving up between my thighs, making me open for him even more.

He lowered himself on his forearms, coming all the way down until his chest was scraping my breasts, and began to thrust in slow waves, not wanting to hurt me. I felt him move deep...
deeper
and the sensations had me squeezing my eyes shut and biting on the edge of my thumb. The thickness of him, spreading my slickened walls; the heat of him, throbbing so deep inside me. We were both sweating now, from the sun and from what we were doing, our skin shining glossily. Each thrust was a little deeper...and then, when his hips pushed forward for the fourth time, I felt the hardness of his groin kiss up against my lips, and I knew I’d taken all of him.