“After?”
“After the orgasms.”
He chuckles. It’s a deep rumble that I feel like a bass drum between my legs. “How about you get to flip me if I don’t give you an orgasm?”
My bra comes undone.
“Deal,” I reply. “Of course, I might flip you anyway.”
Suddenly his whole body is pressed into mine. I can feel his bare chest against my bare back and one of his thick thighs is between my legs and his cock is pressed into my left ass cheek. It’s official. Everything about Elijah Casco is long, thick and hard.
“Sweet Dixie, the way I give orgasms, you won’t have the strength to stand, let alone flip me,” he promises before lifting himself off me and flipping me onto my back as quickly and effortlessly as he flipped me last time.
I stare up at him, with nothing but flickering candlelight and a faint glow from the street light outside pushing its way through my half-open curtains. He looks older in the dim light—rugged, confident and sexy. His hands move to my shoulders and start to pull my dress down, taking the straps of my bra with it.
Sleeping with Elijah feels risky, in an exhilarating sort of way, like I imagine bungee jumping or ziplining or skydiving would be. You’re terrified, but you want to do it more than anything.
Suddenly I’m naked from the waist up, but I’m not self-conscious anymore because there is so much lust in his eyes as he stares at me that they’ve changed to a dark, mossy color. I feel like I should say something, make a typically Dixie-esque comment, but that look on his face is leaving me speechless. And then he’s moving again, and moving me, before I have a chance to regain my senses. He lifts me by my hips and pushes me farther down the bed, and then I’m flat on my back and his lips are covering my left nipple and he’s actually groaning as his tongue makes contact with my skin. My eyes flutter shut and I let out a loud sigh and arch my back into his mouth.
He moves to my other breast, and I lift my torso even higher off the bed. He chuckles and moves his head to the concave spot between my breasts; as he smiles his beard scratches deliciously against my skin and goose flesh ripples down my arms. “You’re a breast girl.”
I reach down and cup his head between my hands, tilting his fare to look up at me. “I’m an everything girl.”
“Then let’s do everything,” he replies and pulls himself up so he’s blanketing my body with his and our lips meet again.
It’s intense—the way he’s touching me, the feel of his mouth, the level of turned on he’s making me. I need to bring it down a little, gain some control back even if it’s just a molecule of it. So, as his mouth drifts from mine back down toward my breasts I use my martial arts training, carefully positioning my legs between his, and reach out with my arms and—boom! I flip him.
It’s not graceful, and I almost fall off the bed when I do it and end up flailing a little, which I’m sure looks extra ridiculous topless, but I flipped him and he looks impressed. Stunned but impressed. “Cool. I’ve never fucked a ninja before.”
I laugh—loudly. “You don’t fuck ninjas. They fuck you.”
I stand and he reaches an arm out as if to stop me until he realizes I’m just doing it to shimmy out of my underwear. His eyes follow the black lace as it drops to the floor. My dress is clinging precariously to my hips. I could shift my hips and be rid of it, but he’s got way too many clothes on for me to be naked. So instead I get back on the bed and reach for his belt. He crosses his arms behind his head and watches me as I undo it and then pop the button and lower the fly. Before I can get any further he grabs both my wrists and with one quick, hard tug he yanks me forward and I land on top of him. He’s smooth and warm and hard, except for where our breastbones touch, and he’s got the sprinkling of hair that tickles my bare skin.
We find each other’s eyes, and I can see the playful light in his green ones flicker and dim into something else at the same time I feel it happening to me. His hands move up my bare sides and stop just under my arms. The tip of his tongue makes a slow pass over his bottom lip. His voice gets even deeper and rougher as he growls, “Playtime is over.”
And then he’s pulling me up to press his lips to mine again. This kiss is all business, and that is such a paradox with who this man is in real life. Elijah is so playful and jovial all the time that the darkness and intensity that’s driving this kiss is surreal and so sexy it’s taking my breath away—and any remaining inhibitions.
We move against each other wildly—tongues dancing, bodies writhing, hands groping—for long, frantic minutes. I manage to get his pants and underwear down his legs but not before he grabs a condom out of his pocket and drops it on the bed beside us. I use the opportunity to take in his fully naked body. It leaves me more breathless than the kissing did. Elijah has one hell of a cock. It’s long but also incredibly thick and perfectly straight and so damn hard right now it’s throbbing—over me. That makes me flush and the ache between my own legs grows. It doesn’t help that his eyes are riveted to my pussy, fully on display now. I watch motionless as he reaches out with one hand and, without a second’s hesitation, cups it against his palm. His long middle finger bends and purposefully pushes into me.
I close my eyes and let out the softest, longest moan and tilt my hips, rubbing my clit against the heel of his hand. The fourth of July goes off behind my eyelids. “Sweet Dixie,” he whispers roughly. “You feel incredible.”
He moves his finger in and out and I rub my clit shamelessly against his palm again. It feels so fucking incredible. I have been giving myself orgasms for years now. And they’re good. I have a great little vibrator and my fingers know how to get me off, but no modern technology or even my own familiarity can compete with this bliss. I could do this all night.
But Elijah has other plans. Suddenly his hand is gone and I’m air humping nothing. Before I can protest, he’s got me by the hips and is effortlessly lifting me, pulling me up his body until my knees are resting just in front of his shoulders and now my pussy is inches from his face. “FYI, this is the only thing I think I’m going to love devouring more than fruity drinks.”
In a millisecond his tongue is sliding up and into me just like his finger moments ago. The noise that leaves me this time is more of a whimper than a groan, and the minute his tongue slips higher, to my clit, circling it, my orgasm is clawing through me—visceral, scorching and fucking incredible.
“That was easy,” he announces in a snarky whisper, and I want to respond with something even more snarky but I’m still completely lost in this orgasm and I want to keep it that way. I slowly, unsteadily move so I’m sitting on my heels beside his left hip. Through my fluttering eyelids I can see he’s grabbing the condom and ripping it open. I watch him grab his cock firmly with one hand and sheath it with the other. He lets it go, props himself up on an elbow and reaches up and cups the back of my neck, pulling me down toward him. I crumble, still shuddering and breathing heavy. “Dixie, baby, look at me.”
I open my eyes and find his. He smiles, kisses me softly and says, “You still want this? Want me?”
“Yes. I want you,” I reply firmly, despite my shaking limbs. “I want you inside of me.”
He kisses me again, less gently, and pulls himself to a sitting position, then I feel him reach for himself again. His other hand moves from my neck down my back and to my hip, then my thigh, and he lifts it and nudges me. I straddle him again, only this time directly above his hand holding his cock. He tilts his head to look up at me, I look down between us and gently lower myself onto him. He feels even bigger than he looks, and it’s deliciously overwhelming with that incredible orgasm still wafting through me.
When he’s settled completely inside me I expect Elijah to drop back on the bed and let me go to work, but he doesn’t. He stays sitting, wraps an arm around my back and his lips around my left nipple. I start to rock. He starts to buck his hips under me and suddenly we’ve got this phenomenal rhythm going on and I can feel another orgasm starting to grow inside me. I like riding guys, a lot. I like to watch them watching me, and I get to control the pace and my orgasm usually. But with Elijah there is no control. He’s still got his mouth on my tit and his hand has moved up into my hair and his hips are doing all the lifting, and it’s sensory overload. Equal overwhelming parts erotic and intimate.
I feel like we’re lovers—deep, passionate lovers intensifying our connection, our hold on one another—not flirting friends trying to work each other out of our systems. My lust for Eli isn’t leaving. It’s solidifying. I would panic about that, but suddenly I’m orgasming again. Hard. So fucking blissfully hard.
