He pulls back, and we both stare at each other. He pumps into me a few more times before stilling, grunting. I feel his cock contracting in me, and I'm still squeezing, taking all of him. He kisses me again. When he's done, his eyes are dazzling. He opens his mouth, like he's about to say something, but then he stops.
"What? What were you about to say?"
He shakes his head.
"You can't do that. It's not allowed."
He moves us, him still inside of me.
"Where are you taking me?"
"To my bathroom. We need to get cleaned up. I need to take you back."
My eyes furrow. "Wait. What?" I want to beat the everloving shit out of him. "This is not what you say to a girl after we just shared what we did. It's like the fucking tomato comment." I slap his chest. "You're such a fucking asshole." Tears prick the backs of my eyes, but I refuse to cry. Or at least, to let him see me do it again.
Theo chuckles. "Stop abusing me, woman."
"Stop being a dick face."
He arches a brow. "That's too close to fuck face. There's already a recipient for that name. Don't call me that. I'm nothing like him."
"You just made me feel like a cheap slut, so maybe you are," I hiss.
He slams me down on his bed, and since he's still inside me, he comes with me. It takes my breath away. "No. I. Am. Not." His eyes are on fire, and it's like there's a storm brewing in them. "You don't understand."
"Then explain."
"I looked him up, and I saw you. I've not been able to get you out of my head since then. And what we just did, I thought I'd only get in my fantasies, Jules." He blinks, but holds it for a long time. "Kidnapping isn't my thing. But I'd take you away somewhere for the sole purpose of being able to have you all to myself twenty-four seven, to be able to be buried in you like I am now all the time." He kisses my cheek, my lobe, my neck. "But you don't have your phone. Your car is in that parking garage. You can't spend the night with me. We have to get you back."
"It's the way you said it."
"I can be an ass when I'm scared. You scare the shit out of me. What I just felt … makes me want to run, but I can't because I can't walk away from you. Are you hearing me?"
I nod.
He starts to rock back and forth. "I'm so screwed. I'm going to lose my mind when we're apart, partially because I'm going to be worried about whether you're safe, but also because I just want you in my arms, my tongue on your body, and my cock right where it is right now."
Threading my hand in his hair, I pull his head back to me. "One more time before you make me leave."
"You understand, don't you?" He brushes my hair away from my face. "That I want to be with you, but the circumstances suck ass."
"Yeah. I understand. And again. Please."
I've heard guys talk about how good a girl felt, about how perfect they fit together. I've never noticed, I guess. In fact, I thought it was just a cliché. That is, until I was buried deep inside Jules. Maybe the reason it'd never crossed my mind or came out of my mouth was because I've never been with someone that was worthy. None of the other women were a perfect fit. Up until just now, I'd just thought fucking was fucking.
Even when I was engaged to Miranda, when I thought I was making love to her, there was something missing. She never blew my mind, never made me feel like I couldn't think or breathe. Whatever this is with Jules is so different from anything I've ever experienced. And I've only known her a night, so how is that even possible when I was with Miranda for years? Well, maybe I feel like I've known her longer since I spent most of my day fantasizing about her. Or maybe sometimes things just click? Or perhaps this is … I don't know what the hell this is. I'm grasping at straws here as I gaze into her brown eyes.
"Theo. One more time. Please." Her voice is raspy, needy.
I nod, brushing her hair back. It's like silk. When I was little, I had a little blanket I always rubbed. Okay. So maybe I slept with it until middle school when my mom told me I had to stop. But the point is, rubbing something so soft and delicate beneath my fingertips, between them, has always been comforting. I don't need a blanket anymore. But I'd take Jules as a replacement. It's going to kill me to send her back to skatá prósopo. "One more time," I whisper.
Pulling out of her, I tie the condom and get a new one from the drawer of my nightstand. Being disconnected from her makes me feel like I've lost something. What's that all about? Ripping the package with my teeth, I toss the wrapper on the floor and unroll the rubber over my tip. She watches, licking her lips. "What are you thinking about?" I ask.
She gives me a half-smile. "That I never really liked giving blow jobs until tonight. I'd pretty much come up with whatever excuse I could to get out of them."
"That's why you look like you're about to devour me? Why you're sucking on your lips?"
Jules nods. "But I want to ride you. So, I'm willing to wait until next time to do it again."
Tilting my head, I narrow my eyes. "Did you just feed me a line? A cop out?"
"Old habits die hard? I'm serious, though." She pushes me back before straddling me, then puts my head between her hands as she starts to give me quick, sensual kisses everywhere. "I want it slow this time, though. And longer."
I open my mouth to protest about the longer part because I really do need to get her back, but she puts her finger in it. "Shh. Suck."
"You know what rhymes with suck?"
Her eyes gleam. "Uh huh."
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. That's all I can think. She's so much trouble for me. This was not part of my plan-falling for her. But when I saw that picture on the Facepage, it started a series of chain reactions that I can't stop. We're an avalanche, and I'm just hoping we don't get buried alive. Gripping her ass, I position her over my tip, push her hair to one side, and plant my face in her neck as she slides down my shaft. Perfect. Fucking. Fit.
She gasps before trailing kisses over my shoulder. "I love your body."
I've seen her prick fiancé's. There's no comparison. "I love it too. I spend a lot of time taking care of it. I take care of the people and things I love, Jules."
She moves in circles, up and down, all around me. Releasing her, I move my hands to her front and palm both of her tits. They're so full. I take one nipple between my teeth and graze it, then swirl my tongue over it.
She sucks in a breath, threads her fingers in my hair, and arches her back. Her head falls back, giving me perfect access to her neck, and I lick my way up, planting an occasional kiss along the way.
Bucking my hips, I do my best to fill every part of her. Pushing her back, I let her lie on my legs. Her stomach is so taut. The angle this way is different, deeper, and allows me to hit her G-spot. "Theo," she breathes. Moving her hips with mine, we continue like this. Her breathing gets quicker. It turns into more of a pant. She's making little noises that make everything inside of me squirm, aching for release.
Moving one of my hands, I massage her clit, and she starts to crumble around me. Her mouth forms an O as she moans all kinds of incoherent words. Moving my legs out from under her while I pull out, I climb over her and push back into her. I pick her legs up and put them over my shoulders. "Yes. So flexible, so sexy."
She's still panting, grasping for what, I am not sure. She loops her arms under mine, pulling me, guiding me.
I hammer into her, not wanting to hurt her, but to fill her as much as I can. "Does this feel okay?"
She nods, her eyes hooded, then leans up and kisses me as I continue to move in, out, around. Her whimpers escalate, and I can tell the waves of orgasm are rebuilding inside her. My lips curve into a smile. What she does next surprises me. Jules reaches her hand between us. She starts to rub herself, her clit. "Fuck yes." She's a vixen, so much better than anyone I've ever had.
Her eyes roll in the back of her head as her moans grow. Each sexy sound she emits pushes me closer to my own release. I know she said she wanted it slow, but I can't. The gap of time between each thrust gets smaller and smaller, our passion growing in a fast crescendo.
It's hard to keep my lids open, the ecstasy of this moment filling my head with euphoria, but I use all my willpower to keep them as wide as I can because I love watching her, searing her into my memory like this in my bed. Even if it's just a night, it's the best sex of my life.
She squeezes my shoulder, still massaging her clit with her other hand. "I'm about to come again. Can I?"
My brows furrow. "What the fuck is that? Of course you can. If I didn't want you to, I would have pulled out or something. Let it go, agapemèni." My mind is so distracted, I can barely enjoy the moment, but I try to stay focused on her smile, on the way her lids flutter, on how she feels clenching around my dick, and that's all it takes for my own release.
Pumping into her, we both slow until we're barely moving. It's like a fan that you turn on, let to get to full speed, then cut off. It takes time for it to stop turning, and it's going to take a minute for me to stop moving inside her, to break this connection. I'm already fucking addicted to her because there's nothing I want to do more than worship her body, bring her pleasure, but what she just said is still so front and center in my mind. A sour taste creeps up at the thought of the fucker only letting her come when he said so. I don't want to be thinking about him while I'm in her, but I hate him so much.