Authors: Eve Berlin
“No, I mean it,” he insisted. “Let’s both just . . . not think. Let’s do this. Be together. Without dissecting it.”
“What does that mean, Alec?”
“I don’t know. Does it have to mean something?”
“Maybe not . . . ”
“You’re thinking again, Dylan.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t do it. Okay? Just don’t do it. Let’s see what happens.” She laughed quietly. “We’re not real y the ‘go with the flow’ kind of people, Alec.”
“What do you mean? I’m total y laid-back.”
She smiled against his shoulder. “Right. That’s exactly the definition I would use for you.”
She heard his quiet laughter as a deep rumble in his chest, taking some of the intensity out of the moment, making it simpler, lighter.
Maybe he was right. Maybe they could just let it
be
for now, whatever was happening between them. Maybe they didn’t need to define anything, pul it apart and examine it.
She’d never lived her life that way. Neither had he. It felt easier, somehow, knowing this would be a chal enge for him as wel . That she wasn’t alone in this.
He loosened his hold on her enough that he could lean back to look at her. Reaching up, he brushed her hair from her face. She was melting again. But she simply let it happen.
“Do we have a deal?” he asked her, his face perfectly serious.
“Yes. We have a deal.”
“Good. Because I need to fuck you again. And that would be impossible if you get up and leave.”
“You’re insatiable.”
“Yes. With you, I am.”
He was hardening inside her again already, his cock beginning to pulse. And she was ready. Her body was always ready for him.
Her mind, her heart, might be a different story. One in which she didn’t know the ending.
If only she could create the ending herself. Choose it, as she did when she was writing. But she didn’t even know where she wanted this to end.
She wasn’t sure she wanted this to end at al .
Yes, she was going to have to stop thinking about everything or she was going to make herself crazy.
She was pretty sure she’d lost her mind already, the moment she’d met Alec.
She just had to be certain she didn’t lose her heart.
Dylan kicked the front door of her flat shut behind her and dropped her purse on the floor, grabbing her ringing cel phone just in time.
“Hel o?”
“Hey. I’ve been cal ing you al weekend.”
“It’s stil the weekend, Mischa.”
“It’s nine o’clock on Sunday night.” Her friend’s voice was petulant.
“And?” Dylan asked, slipping out of her coat and hanging it in the tal , sleek lacquered armoire by the front door.
“A nd . . . I guess I’m not used to you being unavailable to me.”
“I was with Alec.”
“I figured.”
Dylan leaned down, took her high heels off, leaving her feet bare. The wood floors were smooth and chil y. She flipped the heat on as she crossed the apartment, went into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of Cabernet. She felt good. Lazy. Sated.
Almost.
She couldn’t seem to get enough of him.
Alec . . .
“Dylan?”
“What? Sorry, Mischa.”
“I asked how your weekend was. God, you real y are a mess over this guy, aren’t you?”
“I’m . . . I don’t know what I am.”
“But things are going wel ? Are you any less confused than you were the last time we talked?”
“Things are going wel . Because I’ve reformed.” She grinned, sipped at her wine as she leaned against the counter.
“Reformed?”
“Yes. I’ve made an agreement to stop thinking. To stop dissecting every move he makes and everything I think, or have ever thought, about myself, relationships, sex, men . . . ”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope.” She raised her glass in a smal salute and took another sip. “I’m official y tired of fighting myself, Misch. It’s ridiculous.”
“I could have told you that,” Mischa teased.
“Then why didn’t you?” Dylan moved into the living area, set the glass down on the coffee table and settled onto the sofa, curling her bare legs beneath her and pul ing a smal , soft throw blanket over them. She said quietly, “I’m just seeing how . . . damaging this has been for me. Not letting anyone in by finding some flaw in everyone. Because if you dig deeply enough, everyone has one.
And I go looking for it. I pick every man apart with a shovel.”
“Dylan, don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“That’s part of it, too. I tear myself apart every bit as much as I do other people.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Wel , I want to stop. And Alec is helping me.”
“What’s real y going on, Dylan?” Mischa asked, her tone gentle.
“I’m final y opening up. Al of this power play stuff with Alec is opening me up. And I don’t like everything I see, but I’m realizing I’m . . . human.”
“I love you, anyway, you know. I always have.”
“I know. I’m final y getting that.”
Her buzzer rang and she got up and went to the intercom. “Hang on a second, Mischa. Who’s there?”
“Dylan.” Alec’s voice was deep, soft with desire.
“Alec, you just dropped me off ten minutes ago.”
“I know. I’ve changed my mind. I’m not ready to let you go yet.”
“Oh ...”
“Let me come up.”
“Yes . . . come up.”
It was several moments before she realized she stil held her cel phone in her hand. “Mischa? I’m sorry, but Alec . . . he’s here.”
“So I heard. No problem. But cal me soon.”
“I wil .”
As they hung up she heard the grinding lurch of the building’s industrial elevator, and in moments Alec was knocking on her door. She opened it.
She could smel his black leather jacket and his warm skin before she noticed anything else. Then she looked up and saw his crooked smile.
She smiled back. She couldn’t help it. He was so damn handsome, so dark and wicked-looking, with his leather jacket and his dark goatee and that look in his eyes . . . as though he wanted to eat her up.
She went loose, hot al over, as he moved through the door and swept her into his arms. He bent to kiss her, his mouth hungry, sweet. Demanding.
He kissed her until she was shaking, her sex hot and needy.
Soaking wet.
He pul ed back, stripped his jacket off, letting it drop to the floor.
“I need you, Dylan. I couldn’t even make it home. I had to turn around and come back.”
She nodded, desire knotting her throat.
“I need to be inside you, now. Right this second.”
“Yes ...”
He turned her around, pushing her against the front door, so that she had to brace her hands against it, her face only inches from the smooth, painted wood. Then he unzipped her dress, the same one she’d worn to meet him at the Pleasure Dome Friday night, pul ing it off her. She was naked underneath.
“Ah. Exactly the way I like you, my girl.” He ran his hands down her sides, making goose bumps rise on her skin. Then lower, over her hips, her buttocks. “Spread for me, Dylan. I’m going to fuck you right here.”
She felt herself going down, into that misty, lovely place, as she gave into him. Gave herself over.
She parted her thighs, heard him pop the buttons on his jeans, heard the tearing of a foil wrapper. Then one of his arms wrapped around her waist, and with the other he moved the hair away from her neck, sweeping it aside. He planted a tiny kiss there, making her tremble with need. Pure heat. A nearly unbearable urgency.
Using his hand, he guided his cock between her thighs, and she bent at the waist, spreading wider, letting him slip inside.
“Oh, that’s good, Alec . . . So good.”
Her sex was wet, clenching. And then he began to move. Deep, driving strokes, so hard and fast she could barely breathe. Her palms were splayed flat against the painted wood door, and she laid her cheek there, pressing into the hard surface. His hips arched, pumping, pumping, driving pleasure into her system, as deep as his thrusting cock.
His mouth was on the back of her neck, kissing, biting, then moving down her spine, over her shoulders. Then he slowed down, paused, and al she heard was their ragged breath. Al she felt was his big body behind her, his lips resting against her shoulder, his swol en cock fil ing her. Pleasure was a held breath, suspended, edged with anticipation. And then his hand came down in a hard smack across one buttock, making her body surge toward the door, surge with desire.
“Yes, Alec . . . ”
He slapped her again, the sound ringing in her ears, the pleasure like some deep echo in her body. Then he was smacking her, fucking her, everything at once, his breath harsh in her ear.
Sensation poured like water through her system, pooling in her bel y, her sex, her aching breasts. It spread, shimmered, dazzling her. And as she came, her eyesight dimmed, sound faded away.
She was a being of pure sensation, pure pleasure, spiraling higher and higher. She was drowning in it.
He stopped.
She was panting. So was he.
“Alec?”
“Baby. I don’t want it to be over so soon. Give me a minute . . .
just hang on.”
He pul ed out of her, pul ed her close against him. She could feel the rough fabric of his jeans against her thighs, the zipper biting into her skin. And the softness of the sweater he wore. Lovely on her bare flesh. That, and his hands smoothing over her stomach, teasing her nipples. Then slipping between her thighs, pressing into her.
“You’re so damn wet. So ready.”
“Yes.”
“Even though I’ve been fucking you so hard . . . ”
“Yes ...”
“Do you need to come again, baby?” He plunged his fingers inside her.
“Yes!”
“Good. I want you to. Come on.”
She knew by now not to ask any questions. And it was actual y rather wonderful not to have to think.
She fol owed him as he led her into the bathroom. Stood quietly as he undressed, rid himself of the condom, and turned the water on before stepping into the white tiled shower with him.
He’d turned on the big overhead rain shower fixture, and the water cascaded down over them, exactly like a warm, fal ing rain.
Soothing the sore skin on her bottom. Alec pul ed her in, his arms closing around her, and she let herself fal into him, let him hold her up.
She was stil ful of need for him. So was he; she could tel by his cock, hard and ready and pressing against her bel y. But it was nice to simply stand there together, skin to skin, the water fal ing warm al around them, the steam rising.
The high, arching window built into one wal of the shower let light in from the streets below, a wash of amber from the streetlights, along with a bit of pink and blue from the neon signs of the storefronts. It cast colored shadows onto the ceiling, the top of the shower wal s. The light, the water, and Alec’s huge body next to hers made her feel cocooned, as though the rest of the world no longer existed. As if it was just the two of them, in this moment.
He held her like that for a long while. And then he began to stroke her skin.
Long, gentle sweeps of his hands over her back, her sides, her buttocks. And eventual y he began a series of smal slaps. His hands were so much sharper on her wet skin, and the pain started immediately. So did the pleasure, her body readily converting the sensations. And lovely to have her hard nipples pressed against his chest, his cock nestled between her thighs now, growing harder by the second. She opened for him, and his cock slid in between her pussy lips, slipping in her juices without entering her.
“Ah, God, Alec. Please.”
“Yes, you need to come, don’t you, baby? Come on, then. Sit down here.”
He shifted, setting her down on the edge of the tile bench built into the wal behind her.
“Spread for me. Ah, that’s good. Beautiful.” She eased her thighs farther apart, watched as he took the handheld shower massager from its hook on the tiled wal and aimed it at her open sex.
“Oh ...”
He held it against her clitoris, moved it down over her cleft, then back again, teasing her. Soon she was panting, needing him.
“Is that good, my girl?”
“Yes . . . it’s good.”
“But you need more, don’t you?”
She didn’t answer him. She couldn’t.
When he knelt between her thighs, she held her breath. And when he leaned in, his tongue licking at her aching slit, she moaned aloud. Pleasure surged through her, a tide of heat and need. And he was licking her, his tongue sliding up and down over her cleft, then pushing inside her. He aimed the water sprayer at her clitoris, the water pulsating against that needy nub of flesh.
“Alec . . . oh, God . . . it’s too much . . . ” But it was enough. In moments she was coming once more.
Coming apart.
For him.
With him.
“Alec!”
When she stopped shivering he pul ed away, easing his body between her thighs, leaning in to kiss her. The water was streaming over them, but she could stil taste her juices on his lips.
Knew that he had made her come.
Made
her. And she loved it.
His cock was pressing against her again, a rigid shaft of flesh.
She reached down and took it in her hand, felt it pulse, felt its strength. She wanted it. Wanted him. Wanted to please.
“Alec ... let me ...”
She sank to her knees, and he let her go, rising to his feet at the same time. Her hands wrapped around his thighs, his rigid cock before her. Beautiful.
She leaned in and slid her tongue across the rounded tip, smiling when he groaned.
“Christ, you’re going to kil me, Dylan.”
She licked again, pushing her tongue into the slitted hole at the tip, tasting him, the salt of his pre-come. She couldn’t wait a moment longer.