Punk and Zen (41 page)

“I have never been this wet before,” she whispered
into my ear, and I gasped softly because I swear it felt as if I’d touched
myself; I could feel my cunt throb when my fingers encountered the thick and
rich proof of her words. “Nina…” she groaned softly, warning me that she
needed.

“Me either,” I confided to her softly, because it was
true. I never really had—before. I led her hand to me and she gave a sharp
exhale as she softly felt what I’d said. Two sensations bolted through me—one a
purely primal need to lay her down, and the other absolute relief and even joy
that my body was finally doing the thing it was supposed to.

“You’re wearing too much,” I murmured, my lips on her
neck. I bit lightly against the tendon, then scraped my lower lip against it as
we both got rid of her pants. I ran my hands under her shirt and lightly over
her breasts, feeling the hardness of her nipples as she pressed into me. I
brought my hands to her neck and reversed their position, and in one sudden,
savage motion, I ripped her shirt off.

She shuddered when the air hit her, and I sucked on
the skin just under her throat while I undid the front closure to her bra and
slid that, with the remains of the shirt, off her shoulders.

Her mouth was refreshingly cool, soothing my tongue,
and she tasted like wine. Her hands slid my robe off my shoulders and tossed it
behind her head, and the bed was behind her as she grabbed my hips and pulled
me down on top of her, her thigh slipping between mine, pressed firmly against
my cunt.

“Christ!” I gasped, because that truly felt great, and
I had never, ever, wanted anyone the way I wanted Samantha. I looked at her
face, into her eyes, eyes hooded with desire, and she gave me a slow smile. I
returned the pressure she gave me and she rolled under me, slipping against me.

“I normally…don’t enjoy this that much,” she told me,
breathing heavily as we slid against each other, “but
you
…are the exception.”

I could feel the rising tide of sex control my face.
“Same here,” I smiled back at her, “same here.”

I lowered my head to that mouth I wanted to drink from
again and again, and I reached a hand around her hips, past her ass where her
leg flexed into me and found what I wanted. My fingertips pressed very lightly
against her opening.

When her hands, which had been guiding my hips, moved
so that her hand dug against my ass and her fingers slid easily between my lips
with the other, I leaned heavily into her, against her. I pressed my face to
her neck, her head next to mine.

We rode through the moment, and as we did, I suddenly
ABC understood why we had always been told the body is a temple,
because as we moved together, I felt like I was praying and Samantha’s body was
the altar through which I touched the face of God.

I don’t know if she felt that or not, but I can say
with certainty I was shocked when she surged up against me, rolling me onto my
back, her leg still firmly between mine.

She leaned over me, then kissed me with fierce
tenderness, the wine-taste of her mouth dizzying as her fingertips trailed
along my chest.

“I need more of you,” she said, her voice harsh and
low with want, “please,” she asked, and she slid her tongue deeply into my
mouth and her fingers even farther inside of me.

“God…” she groaned, her lips against my neck, “you are
so wet, love, so wet…” and she drew her tongue hotly against my ear.

I had frozen a moment when she slipped inside me—the
unexpected intrusion, the suddenness of it, catching me short. But I could
hear, I could
feel
that it meant a lot to her, and I forced myself to
relax. It wouldn’t hurt me, at worst, and as Cap had said once, I didn’t have
to worry about getting pregnant.

I let my breath out slowly.

“Are you okay?” Samantha asked me in the same low
voice, her lips nipping lightly at my earlobe, her pussy an irresistible glide
on my thigh.

I could have said no, but that wouldn’t have really
been true.

“Fine, you’re doing fine.” I forced myself to smile.
This was okay, I was going to be okay. “I’m…I’m just not…not used to that.” And
it was true. Even though Fran and I had made love as often as we could, it was
rare that she was inside me—it really just wasn’t my thing.

Samantha raised her head from my neck and looked at
me, her eyes ocean-at-night blue, for once the sorrow that always hovered in
their depths gone. “I need you so much, Nina…you make me feel like I’m home.”
The chain and sword charm I had given her years ago stuck to the skin below her
throat, glinting in the half-light of my room.

And that’s why I let her continue—because everything
in me screamed that she was where she belonged: with me, in me. Fuck it. For
once, I wanted this, I wanted to know, once and for all, what it was that everyone
so enjoyed about this. I didn’t want to just enjoy it in my head, I wanted to
feel all of it. Samantha was the ocean I wanted to dive into. I grabbed her
ass, pulling her tighter against my leg. “Come home, baby,” I told her as she
moved within me slowly, and she kissed my breasts and neck, “come home.”

I tightened my cunt around her fingers, and she
groaned again as I pushed my hips against her, driving her deeper into me and
harder against my ABC thigh.

“I love that,” she rasped out, “the way you hold me in
you.” She pushed desperately against my leg, and her ass was so preciously tiny
I felt like I could cup the whole thing in my hand. But what I wanted was more,
more of Samantha, and I reached around her precious ass to spread her lips against
me, so her exposed clit would ride the hard muscle of my thigh.

I slid my fingers along the length of her cunt and her
hips moved, her cunt a thick, wet glide against my leg, amazingly hot, a
sublime feel against my fingers as she began to thrust into me.

I had to be inside her, and I slowly moved against
that delicious soft opening, carefully, slowly, moving my fingers against that
tight, hot space.

“God…” she groaned and arched her back, trying to
catch my fingers and drive me deeper inside her. But as soft and as wet as she
was, her pussy was tight, and I didn’t want to hurt her. Although I’d never
felt anyone that wet before, I’d also never felt anyone that tight either, and
if I hadn’t known better, I would have thought, well, honestly? I would have
thought she was a virgin.

“I don’t want to hurt you…” I told her as her pussy
pushed at me, urging me.

“You won’t—I swear,” she gasped, her breath ragged
against my lips. “I need you, I want you, inside me.”

I was full of misgivings. I was so scared I’d hurt
her, but she’d made herself vulnerable by asking, and I couldn’t deny her
request.

Still, I was gentle as I pushed through and past the
tightened muscle—God, her cunt was perfect, absolutely perfect, and before I
was completely inside her she arched her back and slid fully onto m e.

“Yeah…” she groaned, a sound so absolutely, primally
sensual, I stopped worrying because the blood rushed to my head as she sank
against me.

The blood rushed right back to my cunt as she started
to fuck me, deep, hard. I could feel the power in her arms, in her back, as she
thrust, her hip driving her hand farther, adding to the almost-overwhelming
intensity as she poured her life, she poured herself into me, completely. The
fuck fit so precisely I felt it in my throat.

Her stomach was flat against mine, breasts rubbing,
her free arm clutching at my shoulder, mine just below her ass, spreading her
wider against the constant slip in and out of her pussy.

We kissed, openmouthed, hungry, my hands and cunt
filled with her. I wanted even more—I wanted to be completely inside her, wear
her under my skin. I pushed desperately into her, hoping she enjoyed this as
much as I did, that her cunt was as completely full, as content as mine,
because I loved the way she felt on me, in me, next to me.

I breathed in the air that she exhaled, the sweetest
air I’d ever breathed, and I didn’t know what I wanted more—her lips or her
breath. Then and there I knew that I would never, ever, have enough of her.

“God, Samantha…” I breathed heavily. “Love you, I
fucking love you.” I was shocked to hear those words escape my throat; I hadn’t
even consciously thought them.

Samantha raised her eyes to mine, deep sapphire pools
that pierced me, forcing me to realize how much I’d meant it.

“Come, love,” she choked out, “come because I love
you.” Her lips scraped along my neck, her body waved against me, and I could
feel the inevitable, the blind-rush end coming as her pussy bore down on me.
Her fingers plunged so deep I felt my entire body tingle, as if I were
electric, as if I was made of light.

“Look at me, baby,” I asked her, wanting more than
anything to know, to see, to feel and share everything, “let me see your eyes.
I want you to see me.”

She dragged her lower lip against my neck and my chin
before she did, and her eyes glowed.

“Ah God, Nina…” she gasped as I dove into her cunt,
wanting, willing her to come on me, in me, driven by the force she pounded into
my cunt, into my heart.

“I love you,” I exhaled, then caught my breath short
as the light she’d sparked to brilliance within me overflowed and I was coming,
coming in waves, over and over, a ferocious intensity I’d never felt in my life
as my gaze stayed locked on hers, with everything I had, everything I was,
pouring into her eyes.

“Coming,” she whispered, a harsh breath over my lips,
her eyes hooded as her pussy clutched and spasmed, her body shaking against
mine, her skin soft, warm, and beautiful as it seeped into me. “I love you, I
love you,” she mouthed, over and over, her cunt, her hands, moving in with
deep, hard thrusts, and I came again, watching her, feeling her.

I wanted to whoop with triumph. I got it, I mean, I
really fucking got it.
This
was what it was about. This was better than
anything
,
ever.

Samantha’s eyes were still on me, and I took my hand
off her ass and stroked the contours of her face, the face I’d dreamt about.

Her fingers still buried within me, Samantha propped
herself on her elbow, her fingertips softly rubbing against my temple. “Are you
comfortable?” she asked, her face inches from mine, soft and open, a tiny smile
edging the corner of her mouth.

I arched my neck and kissed her, a gentle, reassuring
kiss, and her tongue was once again soothing on mine, the taste of her mouth
still addictive.

“I’m fine,” I answered her, “you?”

She kissed the tip of my nose, then kissed my chin.
“I’m perfect.” She smiled at me. She wiggled a little, then settled her head on
my chest, her lips brushing against the base of my throat.

I kissed her head and stroked her back. “Did you come
good?” I asked, wanting to know, needing to know.

She nodded against my chest. “Uh-huh,” she whispered.
She shifted and raised her head. “You?” she asked, her face intense with
concern.

I smiled at her. I’d never known her to be shy, I’d
never known her to be insecure. I kissed her soundly in answer and was shocked
to feel how freshly, how desperately I wanted her all over again as she stirred
deep within me and I felt her answering need.

“Stay in me,” she asked as I reluctantly slipped my
fingers out of her.

“Just a moment, baby,” I reassured her, and I shifted
under her so that she lay next to me. I propped myself up on my arm and leaned
over her, trailing my hand up her stomach, across her chest, and let her watch
when I slipped that finger into my mouth, tasting her for the first time.

“You taste amazing,” I whispered before my mouth
closed on hers. I couldn’t let her wait, and I couldn’t either. She was hot and
wet and ready as my fingers flitted between her lips. Her clit was wonderfully
hard, and I wanted to give it the attention it deserved.

Her free arm slipped under mine and she grabbed my
shoulder, crushing me to her, her lips welcome on mine as her thumb circled my
clit and her fingers withdrew a bit.

She felt so good, just so fucking incredible. “God, baby,
you’re fucking beautiful,” I told her as I once again teased her opening with
my fingertips, this time with my thumb pressing securely on her clit.

I kissed her, softly, deeply, timing my thrust to my
tongue, and Samantha surged beneath me. “I came great,” I whispered into her
ear as she pressed her lips against my chest. “I’ve
never
come like that
before.”

Samantha groaned when I said that and thrust deeply
into me, sending that amazing shock through me, short-circuiting my brain. “Me
either,” she answered, her body pushing against mine, “me either.”

We were in it, deep in it, in each other, her head
tucked into my shoulder and my face buried in her hair, that spiral light
tightening when the thought blazed through my mind—I had to marry this girl before
someone else did. That brought me up short. What? We barely knew each
other—now, anyway. I mean, yeah, sure, this was the most intense experience
physically or ABC emotionally I’d ever had, but was that something to
base an entire-life decision on? And I wasn’t ready—I was leaving to go on
tour, for chrissake, there was—