Lulu
It’slongminutesbeforeNick clears his throat, still pressing me up against the wall, our bodies stuck together with sweat. “Did I hurt you? I lost control. I was rough. Are you okay?” His look is gentle in a way I haven’t seen in him before.
“I’m great.” My voice is a croak. “You didn’t hurt me. At least, not in a way I didn’t like.” At least, I don’t think so. All I can feel is the thumping of my heartbeat in every cell of my body.
He flashes a dirty grin. Without a word, he pushes away from the wall, supporting me with one hand, which is just as well, because I don’t think my legs are up to the task. He sheds his board shorts, which had only made it as far as his knees, before lifting me into his arms, carrying me through the apartment, into a massive bedroom and coming to a stop in a marble and glass bathroom. Putting me down gently on a stool, he reaches into the shower and turns on the water while I slip off the tattered remains of my bra.
Taking my hand, he leads me into the enormous shower, where hot water is falling fast from a giant rainwater showerhead. My legs are still a little shaky, but Nick wraps one arm around my waist to support me while reaching for the soap with the other. His hands are gentle as he soaps my body with suds that smell like his skin, and despite the fact I’m still coming down from an orgasm, my body responds immediately. It’s the smell of Nick and desire.
His eyes follow the path of his hand across my shoulders, over my breasts and down my belly. He hesitates briefly before sliding his soapy hand between my thighs, gliding across my tender, still tingling flesh. He’s already hard again, and I can’t help but reach out and stroke his length as his fingers slip through my folds. The dreams and fantasies I’ve had about Nick float through my mind, and I drop to my knees, my tongue coming out to taste his length. The marble is hard, but all I care about is having Nick in my mouth.
“Christ.” His head falls back against the tiles, eyes squeezing shut as I take him into my mouth, circling the head of his cock with my tongue before sliding my lips as far down as I can. “Yes. I’ve imagined this so many times.” His hips begin to move in short, gentle thrusts, his cock nudging the back of my throat. “Look at me. Watch me while you take me in your mouth.” His voice sounds like the feel of his stubble on my breasts.
I look up at his face as I continue to work his length, one hand grasping the base, the other cupping his balls, which are already contracting.
Hot water runs down the ladder of his abs and splashes on my face, but our gazes remain locked on each other’s faces.
It doesn’t take long. “I’m going to come,” he groans seconds before he releases in my mouth, so fast I have trouble swallowing it. His legs quiver as I continue to lick and suck him, smiling around his softening length. His breathing is harsh and erratic. “Fuck.” He sighs, resting against the shower wall and reaching down to help me to my feet. Nick pulls me into his body, wrapping his arms around me, and I rest my cheek on the hard muscles of his chest, feeling a surge of power I’ve never experienced before.
The water runs over us until our heartbeats begin to settle; then, without a word, he shuts it off and wraps me in a soft white towel before slipping one around his hips and leading me into the bedroom, where he flicks on a single lamp beside the bed. Nick touches me with so much gentleness, drying my arms and legs, rubbing some of the moisture from my hair before sliding me onto the plush doona on his king-size bed.
“Your turn,” he murmurs, dropping to his knees beside the bed, dragging my arse to the edge and pushing my legs wide. “Do you taste as good as you feel, Lulu?” His thumbs slide up and down my seam. He parts my folds. One thumb finds my clit and starts to circle. “I love that your pussy is bare. So sensitive.” His nose grazes the inside of my thigh. I hear him suck in a deep breath. “Fuck, you smell good. All soap and sex.” And then his tongue is swiping at my flesh, drinking up the moisture that’s already gathering. “Ah, yes. So delicious. Sweet and tangy. And so, so wet.” His tongue finds my clit, one finger sliding inside me before he begins to suck in earnest, his whole mouth clamped on my flesh, teeth nipping gently. I can feel my release coming already, shooting out in all directions from his clever, clever mouth. He’s humming with delight at how wet I am, and I feel the vibrations all the way to my toes.
“I can’t hold on. I’m going to come,” I manage to gasp.
“Let go. Come on my mouth.” And I do. Hard. He only gives me a moment to catch my breath before he’s flipping me over onto my belly, hoisting my hips in the air and plunging his beautiful cock inside me.
“I can still feel you coming. Feel your pussy clenching my cock. So fucking good …” And within a few thrusts of those strong hips, I’m coming again, gasping and gurgling as I pulse around him, unable to control my response.
Nick keeps thrusting through my release, one hand gripping my hip, the other roaming roughly over my back and arse before curling over my shoulder and pulling me back hard against his thrusts. And then he’s coming too, filling me for a second time, and the feel of his cum flooding me brings with it yet another orgasm. I collapse to the bed and he follows, his body heavy and warm over mine.
We’re both weak and trembling as he slides me up the bed and under the covers. He turns off the bedside lamp before sinking in beside me without a word, taking me in his arms and spooning me from behind. In what seems like seconds, his breathing slows, his body relaxing in sleep, and I follow, exhausted.
I wake in the middle of the night, the glow from the open bathroom door casting a square of light that doesn’t quite reach the bed in this enormous room. But I don’t need to see anything because I can feel Nick, his hot, hard cock pressed against my hip, his fingers sliding through my slickness. He coaxes me onto my back, taking a nipple into his mouth with tender suction as he flicks the other with delicate fingers. His eyes glitter as he rises over me, and presses the head of his cock to my entrance. My breath catches at the intensity in his eyes, in his touch.
He thrusts, achingly slow. Elegant hands cup my cheeks, trailing over my temples as he lowers his lips to meet mine, searching and soft. He’s drawing the breath from my body with his kiss and the steady, deliberate rhythm of his hips. I feel the rise of the wave before we both slide down the other side into release.
This was a different Nick. Gentle and sensitive and unhurried. As much as I love rough and hot and fast Nick, this new Nick could be even more dangerous. Even thinking words like love in the same sentence as his name is a danger I can’t afford. I reach out and run a finger over his lips before I roll away, unable to face him. Or myself.
When I wake the next morning, Nick is fast asleep, with his arms crossed under his head, face turned towards me. His long eyelashes and full lips are offset perfectly by the strong jaw and straight nose, saving him from being too pretty. The silvery grey sheet is tangled around one of his legs, leaving his muscular back, his arse and a strong thigh and calf on display. I take a moment to appreciate the view and the softness of the hundred-million thread count sheets. But even now I can feel stirrings of unease. Not because I fucked him again. But because I fear I could be in danger of doing what I had always promised myself I’d never do. Giving my heart wholly over to another. To Nick Pierce, of all people. This is utter madness.
I slide carefully off the bed, my footsteps silent on the plush carpet. I head to the hallway where, in the absence of underwear, I pull on my still-damp swimming costume. Slipping into my top and shorts, I grab my bag and head downstairs, ordering an Uber as I go. Waiting for Nick to wake up is not an option. I need space. Some time to get a grip on what I’m feeling. To take a few deep breaths and think. And if I have to look into those perceptive grey eyes, I know exactly what will happen.
Like the last time I slept with Nick, I head home, shower and drag out a fresh canvas. If nothing else, this whatever-it-is with Nick is good for my art. Unlike the last time there’s no anger, just a sense of disquiet that is almost totally smothered by an overwhelming desire to do it again.
Chapter Fifteen
Nick
Forthefirsttimein what feels like an eternity, I wake up and reach across the bed, expecting to find warm silky flesh. Nope. No flesh. Nothing but cold, empty sheets. Fuck. Without even lifting my head, I know she hasn’t just popped into the bathroom. The sheets are too cold. She’s gone. It shouldn’t bother me nearly as much as it does. I should be relieved. No awkward after-sex conversation about ‘what this is’. No need to promise to call or invite her to spend the day together. Nothing but peace and quiet. The way I like it. Only I’m not relieved. I feel strangely … hurt. And a little angry. And confused. All of which only makes me angrier. At myself.
I could have sworn I said we needed to fuck this out. Maybe she thinks we have. Well, I’ve got news for her.
A brief search for a note turns up nothing but another set of torn underwear, proving I yet again completely lost control. I take a long hot shower and gulp down a strong coffee.
Heading to my desk, I try to focus on work, but the torn underwear I dropped in the bin taunts me. Sighing, I head into the bathroom and fish them out, along with the knickers still in my drawer from the first time. They’re completely ruined, and my mind wanders to the moment it happened. I feel myself hardening at the memory.
Checking the tag on the ruined knickers and bra, I google the brand and locate where they’re stocked in Sydney. Which is how I find myself in an upmarket lingerie store, asking for help. It’s the least I can do. After all, I tore them.
