Love and Pancakes, page 16
“Night.”
I toss and turn for ten minutes, trying to get in a comfortable position, but that’s hard when you’re sitting up. And have a boner. The pillow is useless, just as I expected, and does nothing to keep my head from falling back. There’s too much space between the back of the seat and wall, so that doesn’t help. My legs are extended out in front of me, occasionally coming in contact with the futon bed.
And to make it worse? I can hear her. Her breathing. Her skin sliding against the bedding. Her soft little sighs as she tries to get comfortable too. I. Can. Hear. Her. And it’s driving me absolutely wild.
“Rhenn?” she asks, my cock pulsing in my shorts at the way she says my name.
“Yeah?” I ask, my voice hoarse and my throat thick.
“Will you please come over here and sleep beside me. I know you’re not comfortable, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to sleep knowing that.”
May Day, May Day!
Bad idea, Captain!
“I’m fine,” I reply tightly.
“You’re not fine.” In the moonlight spilling from the skylights, I see her sit up. “It probably won’t be comfortable here either, but at least you’ll be lying down.” And then she goes for the kill. “Please.”
That’s the moment I know I’ll never be able to deny her anything, as long as we both shall live. I’ll do whatever she wants, whenever she wants it, and I’ll do it with a smile on my face. She owns my body, sure, but something more. She just pushes her way right on in, staking her claim on something I haven’t given freely or willingly in a decade.
Knowing it’s fruitless to fight her, I get up and slip behind her on the futon. She’s turned on her side, facing away from me, so that we both fit. I instantly feel the heat of her body and willingly let it envelop me in its immediate comfort. Lying on my side behind her, I’m able to extend my feet onto the chair I was trying to sleep on.
Marissa moves back, the globes of her perfect ass pressing against my swollen cock. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t mean to, but we’re so close that it’s impossible for us not to touch. See why this was such a bad idea? My brain says abort, but my cock says free me now. She adjusts again, the soft material of her panties sliding easily against the material of my shorts, and a moan of pure torturous pleasure threatens to spill from my lips. I have to grab her hip to keep her from moving. I’m not sure I can take much more.
“I really think you should stop moving, Angel.” My words are tight again, just like my shorts.
She pauses, a small gasp filling the cabin. But then my little vixen does exactly what she shouldn’t do – not if she wants to keep this little spoon-fest PG-13. She arches her back, firmly pressing her ass against my aching cock.
My mind blanks.
My cock starts to cry with happiness.
My body bursts into flames.
“What if I don’t want to stop moving?” she asks, not in the least bit innocently.
“This is a dangerous game you’re playing. I want you too much right now, Marissa,” I whisper, my hand squeezing her hip.
“Rhenn?” she asks, my control a thread away from breaking completely.
“Yeah?”
“Touch me.”
And just like that, she throws a can of gas on an already raging inferno. “You sure?” I ask, timidly moving my hand from her hip to her bare stomach.
She quietly whimpers as my fingers flex against her skin. “God, yes. Please,” she begs, wiggling backwards until her ass makes contact with my cock again. She grinds against me, making me quickly realize I’m two seconds away from blowing like a virgin. I’ve wanted her for too long, fantasized about this very moment, and I know if I don’t put a little distance between us, I’m going to do something embarrassing.
Instead of letting my dick call the shots, I slide my hand between her legs. She’s already wet. I can feel it through her panties, and my mouth waters to taste. But not tonight. Tonight, I’ll give her the release she’s craving, without completely mortifying either of us if my friends come out for a drink and find me with my head between her legs.
Though, it would be their fault for not knocking first.
Instead, I opt to move my hand beneath the wet material. Her skin is smooth, with just a small trail of hair. Next time, I’m tracing that trail with my tongue. Gently, I slip my fingers between the lips of her pussy, her clit already swollen and pulsing under my touch. And she’s wet. So fucking wet right now that it makes my balls ache. She coats my fingers as I tease and toy with her, little gasps of pleasure spilling from her lips.
She grinds against my cock and I know it would only take a quick second to remove the clothing barriers between us and slide home. She’s ready, and I’m so fucking ready it hurts. But that’s not what’s going to happen tonight.
My fingers tease her entrance and she lifts her leg, throwing it over mine. She’s giving me access, begging to come. With one finger, I gently push inside her warm, tight pussy. So. Fucking. Tight. I instantly feel her clench around it. She’s already that close. “God, do you feel good, Angel.”
Marissa whimpers, rotating her hips and taking what she wants. When I add a second finger, I know she’s mere seconds away from coming. Her gasp is the sweetest sound as I thrust both fingers into her tight body and rest my palm against her clit. The contact causes her to clamp down, her entire body tightening with need. “Let go, baby. I got you,” I whisper as I grind my palm and plunge my fingers into her pussy once more.
Her release is amazing – there’s no other way to describe it. She shudders against me, rocking her hips and riding out wave after wave of pleasure. She’s so tight that I can’t even move my fingers anymore, so I just lie there, slowly moving my palm and reveling in the feel of her pulsating around me.
Best. Fingerbang. Ever.
Chapter Fifteen
Marissa
Best. Orgasm. Ever.
I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can’t feel my toes.
I’m also pretty sure I’ll never be the same. No orgasm will ever compare, will ever amount to what I just experienced with Rhenn. By his magical hand. The hand that is still cupping me, his fingers still buried between my legs.
“That was magnificent,” he growls into my ear as he slowly starts to retract his fingers. I want to ask him for a repeat, but frankly, I’m not sure I can move right now. I open my eyes and glance over my shoulder. His blue eyes are alive with desire, his body hard in all the right places. But what he does next? Well, that has me ready to throw in the towel, beg for mercy, and worship at the altar of Rhenn.
He puts those two fingers in his mouth.
And sucks.
I almost orgasm right then and there.
“Delicious.”
And I shiver again.
I have no idea what to say, but I know what I want to do. I’ve never been big on going down on a man, but I can’t let go of the desire I have to do so right now. I need to feel him in my hand and taste him in my mouth. A part of me likes to remind myself that I’m not very experienced at this and he’ll probably be bored after the first ten seconds, but I want to try.
I need to try.
Before I can offer, Rhenn rights my panties, pulls down the T-shirt, and turns us both so that we’re lying side by side. He has his arm slung over my waist, but that’s it. I can no longer feel that impressive erection grinding against my butt, and I actually kinda miss it. I try to scoot back, but he holds me still, not allowing me to make contact.
“Don’t move. If you move, I’ll never get it to go down,” he grits through clenched teeth, his hand flexing against my stomach. Even through the shirt, I can feel the heat of his touch.
“What if I help it go down?” I ask boldly, pushing aside all the uncertainty I felt just a few moments ago.
“That’s not why I did what I did, Angel.”
Glancing over my shoulder, my eyes connect with his. “Why did you do it?”
“Because not touching you wasn’t an option. I needed to feel your pussy, feel you come, as much as you did. It was as if I couldn’t breathe until I experienced getting you off,” he practically howls in my ear.
I find myself turning, and this time, he lets me move. His hand is still draped over my hip, but now we’re face-to-face, and I can see nothing but hunger in those amazing blue eyes. “I want to experience that. Will you let me?” To prove to myself I am brave, I go ahead and palm his erection in my hand, which extends well past my fingers.
Rhenn makes a choking sound. I’m not sure if that was supposed to be words or not, but I take it as his approval to keep going. With my eyes locked on his, I gently slide my hand into his shorts, getting my first real feel of what this man has been packing in his pants.
And holy hell is it impressive.
Wrapping my hand around his cock, I slowly move it upward until my palm hits the head, making him hiss and thrust. I move down the smooth, tight skin until I’ve reached the root. I swear he grows thicker as I speak – errr, think. My mouth waters to taste.
I inch my way down, my lips finding the hard plains and muscles of his stomach as I go. His breathing is almost erratic when I come face-to-face with what I’ve been holding in my hand. It’s like a hammer. Thor’s hammer – large, hard, and probably going to rip the hell out of me.
That makes me giggle.
“That’s not good when a woman is staring at your dick and starts to laugh,” he whispers hoarsely.
“I was just mentally comparing you to Thor’s hammer,” I confess, moving my hand from the root to the head of his cock, earning me another moan of pleasure, this one a little louder than the last. I glance over my shoulder, hearing no stirring from the other room, and decide it’s time.
I move my mouth, letting my tongue slip out and taste him for the first time. I swipe it along the thick head, tracing the pulsing vein that runs down his shaft. “Holy fuck,” he huffs, grabbing my head and holding on tight.
Taking him in my mouth, I hollow out my cheeks and go down as far as I can – which is surprisingly farther than I would have expected. I take my cues from him, licking when he groans and sucking when he gasps, and the entire time, I move my hand up and down his length.
“So fucking amazing,” he mumbles, causing me to look up and connect with his eyes. There’s something heady about staring up at him while giving him pleasure. The look on his face is one of pure ecstasy combined with a bit of trust and awe. “Close. Can pull out,” he rasps, his hips starting to thrust, as if completely on their own.
“Don’t. I want to taste you,” I instruct without removing him from my mouth. I’m not sure if he actually understood what I said, but when his eyes flare with fire and his shaft jerks in my hand, I’m pretty sure he got the gist.
I suck hard, taking him as far in my throat as I can, making my eyes water, but I don’t stop. I stroke his balls with my free hand, feeling them tighten, until he gives me the signal. “Coming,” he tries to warn me, giving me one last opportunity to remove my mouth.
But I don’t.
His release is warm and thick as he empties everything he has into my throat. Rhenn is making noise, moaning with each thrust of his hips, but I don’t think he cares. I don’t think he even knows. When his body finally stills and he falls limp against the futon, I finally release him from my mouth, savoring the last taste of him on my lips.
“You okay there, champ?” I ask, taking one last swipe of his shaft with my tongue and making him shiver. I can’t believe he’s still rock-hard. My previous boyfriend was more like a bottle rocket. Shot up hard, exploded quickly, and fell just as fast with little to no fanfare.
“I can’t open my eyes. I’m not sure I’m even breathing right now. Am I breathing?” he pants, one hand draped across his chest and the other thrown over his forehead.
“I believe talking is a good sign of breathing,” I tease him, snuggling into his warm body.
Rhenn moves his arm until it’s under my neck and pulls me close. “That was pretty amazing.”
I feel the blush and am grateful it’s dark in the cabin. What am I supposed to say? Thank you very much? Your cock makes it easy because it’s as yummy as an ice cream cone on a hot summer day? Yeah, I should probably not say any of that.
Even if it’s true.
“Turn on your side,” he instructs softly, gently moving me until I’m facing away from his body. One arm under my head and one thrown over my waist, he settles in behind me, his body pressed against mine. I hear him inhale as he nuzzles his nose in my hair, and feel his arm start to get heavy as he relaxes. “I like to spoon with you.”
My throat feels thick and it’s hard to breathe, but I find the strength to answer him honestly. “I like to spoon with you too.”
And I do.
Maybe a little too much.
* * *
It’s warm. Very, very warm.
It’s not the blanket tangled around my legs so much as the man draped around me like a mink coat. We’re in the same position we fell asleep in last night, proof neither of us moved after we fell asleep, post-orgasm. It’s been a while since I’ve had my world rocked so hard that I basically became unconscious, only to wake up eight hours later, completely refreshed and ready for the day.
Okay, so maybe I’ve never actually had that happen. Not in real life. I’ve heard about it– mostly from my sister – but never actually experienced that complete nirvana, the mindless slumber that can only be induced by amazing orgasms.
I feel eyes on me, but they’re not Rhenn’s. He’s still lightly snoring behind me, holding me tightly against his body as if I might somehow try to slip away. Holding completely still, pretending to sleep, I hear a muffled voice, followed by giggling and what sounds like a slap on the butt. Obviously Meghan and Nick are awake. I notice immediately when Rhenn starts to stir. Actually, I feel the moment he starts to wake. Remember that hammer from last night? It’s fully hard and ready for action. Seriously, this man has some impressive morning wood, and even though it’s not the first time I’ve felt it pressed against me, it’s the first time I’ve felt it post-blowjob, and well, I suddenly wouldn’t mind another round of bedroom hammer throwing.
Nick and Meghan move on to the kitchen, the smell of coffee percolating filling the entire cabin. “You awake?” I ask, wiggling my butt against his crotch.
Rhenn tenses and groans in my ear. “Stop that, Angel, or I’m going to be forced to do something about it.”
“That doesn’t sound like much of a threat,” I tease. Who is this bold vixen and what has she done with shy Marissa Grayson?
“It’s more of a promise,” he says, pulling me close and kissing my jaw. “Did you sleep well?”
“Like the dead,” I confirm, reveling in the feel of his arms wrapped around me.
“Me too. I can’t believe I slept until,” he starts, lifting his wrist and glancing at his watch, “seven forty-five. I never sleep in that late. I’m usually up with the sun and getting in my morning workout.”
“Me too. Well, minus the workout. I’m usually up at five so I can start preparing breakfast.”
I should get up and move, definitely get up to pee, but I find myself snuggling in deeper into his embrace. “I have an idea,” he whispers, running his nose along the shell of my ear.
“I’m listening.”
“Stay with me tonight.”
I suck in a breath, but not because I’m shocked or afraid. Because I’m excited. Because I know what will come of me staying another night on the boat with Rhenn. This time without my cousin and her husband on board.
Just us.
“Okay.”
“We can go to town and have dinner, if that works for you. Then, we’ll come back to my boat. I promise to get you back to the house before the contractors and your mom show up in the morning.”
Oh God, my mom. It would be bad enough to do the walk of shame with a half-dozen construction workers running around, but my mom? Total mortification. She always comes and has coffee with me when she arrives at the house. Could you imagine if she showed up at my cottage and I wasn’t there? And then when I do show up, I have bedhead and look like I was ravished all night long? Try explaining that.
“I like that idea,” I tell him, running my fingers along his forearm.
“Yeah?” he asks, leaning up so that he can see my face, which of course, blushes.
“Yeah.”
Rhenn bends down and kisses my cheek before sliding out of the bed. He carefully heads to the bathroom, watchful not to flash his tented pants to the others lurking in the galley. I risk a glance their way, my eyes immediately connecting with Meghan. She raises an eyebrow and gives me that questioning look. I shrug my shoulders, which earns a smile and a wink in return. She knows, but I’m grateful she chooses to not vocalize her discovery.
I sit up, wrapping the blanket around my legs since I’m wearing only a T-shirt, and head into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. “That looked cozy,” she mumbles, handing me an empty mug.
“He had nowhere else to sleep. He was too big for the chair,” I reason, knowing it was so much more than that.
“So you just happened to make a spot for him in your bed?” she asks over the rim of her mug. I don’t have an answer for her, so I just shrug. “Just be careful, sweetie. He’s a great guy, but not one for sticking around too long.” Her eyes are sober and honest, and her confirmation of what I already know just makes my throat tighten a bit more.
“I know. He’s gone in two weeks.”
“And you’re okay with that?” she asks quietly, trying not to draw the attention of her husband, who is throwing a few eggs on the griddle.
“I am,” I reply with resolve, throwing in a decisive head nod to confirm. “I know what I’m getting myself into.”
