Page 22

CHAPTER 21

LIZZY

PRETTY DECENT

The sight of Clay’s head wrapped between my legs with my fingers laced through his hair is not something I thought I’d see today. OK, maybe ever.

I’ve definitely imagined it, but he’s every bit as good at this as I thought he’d be. I might literally combust. The way his tongue is flicking back and forth over my clit and his groans of approval reverberate through my pussy while his fingers stretch and fill me feels so good. He’s like one of those sex toys that sucks your clit and hits your g-spot all at once.

And he’s so eager - so fucking eager to please. I mean, yeah, he’s younger… but he’s also so much more man than I’ve ever been with. No one’s ever teased me or worshipped me like he did with his trail of kisses and praises.

I’m getting so close, with a knot of tension low in my core, but I don’t want this to end. It has never felt this good, this explosive and electric before. His words, his kisses, his presence. It’s all-consuming.

My attention is drawn away from over processing and right back to him when he starts sucking on bundle of nerves while still lapping at me with his tongue.

“Holy shit,” I whimper, tightening my grip on his short tousled hair. “Please, don’t fucking stop. I’m going to come if you keep doing that.”

He groans into me again, which only pushes me closer to the edge. “That’s kind of the point.”

I look back down at him, but I’m caught off guard when he takes one, broad, muscular forearm, loops it under my bent knees, and presses it against the backs of my thighs. He’s pinning my legs down against my chest, leaving my aching wet pussy completely at his mercy. He devours me and that knot of tension breaks. I fall apart and his mouth stays on me. His fingers massage that spot deep in my core, wringing every last ounce of pleasure out of me.

“Oh my god.” I pull his hair, desperate to be closer to him. He plants a kiss on my pussy before sucking my now hypersensitive clit and flicking his tongue over it, making me squeeze his head again between my thighs.

He sits back up on his knees, smirking back at me. I stare at him, melting into a puddle of pleasure on the pile of pillows I now have a very different appreciation for. I lay here, sated, happy, catching my breath, acutely aware of every nerve ending after the orgasm he just gave me. He just grins at me, clearly satisfied with his work. He’s so cocky and I can’t blame him, but I still feel the urge to push his buttons.

“That was pretty decent,” I tease.

His nostrils flare as he exhales and wipes my glistening arousal from his lips. “You’re such a goddamn brat.” I shouldn’t be surprised that he’s amused. “That was just my fingers and tongue.”

He leans down, kissing the tops of both of my knees before grinning back at me. I give in, grinning at the sight of him, giving him some satisfaction. I know I can tease him, but he just rocked my world and he’s right, that was only his fingers and tongue.

I watch as his deep emerald green eyes rake my body and his chest heaves, only making his muscular body look more defined. “I’m glad to see I can shut that sassy little mouth of yours up.” He smiles back at me and leans forward, running his hands up and down my thighs. I’m still so overstimulated that the feeling of his worn, rough hands against my smooth skin sends a shiver through me.

I raise my eyebrows at him and reach for the waistband of his sweatpants. “I can think of another way you could shut me up. ”

For the slightest moment, his brows furrow and there’s a look of doubt in his face. Whatever it was, it doesn’t last long. That cocky, blazing intensity is back in his eyes and he grins at me so wickedly I’m almost afraid about what he has in mind. “I told you. This isn’t for me, Lizzy . This is all about you . Now sit back.” His voice is low and full of gravel. It’s rough and commanding like that night in the bar.

He straightens up on his knees, shimmying his sweats down enough to let his cock spring free before sitting back again.

Oh. Shit.

I assumed he was large based on what I saw at the hot tub and the way he was straining against his sweats tonight. And he is. Thick, veiny, and lengthy. He would be a challenge, a fun challenge, to fit. And I don’t back down from a challenge.

I reach towards him, eagerly wanting to grab him. I’m startled when one of his big hands bats mine away. “No.” He growls at me. “Sit. Fucking. Back.” He puts one hand squarely on my chest, flicking his wrist and pushing me back into the pillows with no effort.

I cross my arms and huff, glaring back at him. “You’re no fun.”

He lets out a low, mischievous laugh. “I never said I’d be fun.” He rests one hand on his knee and grins down at me. “I told you you’re so fucking special. Now I want you to watch what you do to me. I want you to see how you make me feel. You’re going to remember that you’re more than enough.”

I watch as he grips his length with his other hand, slowly working it up and down. His eyes dart back and forth between my breasts, my still very wet and sensitive pussy, my lips, and my eyes.

Holy shit. This is… intimate .

My eyes do the same, struggling to decide where to look. His flexed abs, the forearm that’s straining from stroking himself, his dimples, or his smoldering green eyes .

“I knew you were extra. I knew you were a brat.” He grunts while he strokes his cock. His eyes stay fixed on mine, burning into me.

“I knew I wanted you to push my buttons to my limit and then I was going to enjoy shutting you up with my cock in that pretty little mouth when you finally made me snap.” His other hand grips his knee harder and his tattooed knuckles whiten.

I nod and grin back. “What else did you want?”

He grins and bares his teeth while still stroking himself. “I’ve done this so many times thinking about fucking you so hard the only word coming out of your mouth would be my name.”

His chest heaves faster and his breathing quickens. It’s so hot seeing him start to unravel and let go like this. I know I’ve thought about him like this, but knowing he’s done it too makes my throat go dry and my thighs clench.

“Oh yeah? And where did you want to come when you thought about me?”

His eyes flitter all over my body. “On your tits, buried in your tight cunt, in your mouth, wherever you want me to. You have no idea what it was doing to me knowing you were on the other side of my bedroom wall with that fucking toy.”

My mind races, thinking that he might have been thinking about me the same time I was thinking about him, at night and alone in bed with only a wall between us.

“Then come on me. I want to watch.” I pucker my lips and air kiss at him.

His eyes close for a second as he strokes faster. Then his eyes lock back on mine.

“Fuck, Lizzy.” He leans forward, putting himself between my thighs. He strokes himself hard. His whole body is flexed and coiled like he’s going to erupt in pleasure at any second. “Do you see what you do to me? I’m going to come so fucking hard. ”

I stretch my legs out and wrap them around his waist, pulling him closer to me. I want to see him let go. He’s right. Knowing that he wants me this bad is so satisfying. But knowing that he wants me to watch is even better.

“Good. I want your cum on me. Show me.” He strokes harder and I look down to watch as he grunts. He props himself over me with his free hand. His flexed and strained forearm, the veins in his abs and that muscular V running down to his cock, everything bringing my eyes back to him when he comes apart. He lets go of rope after rope of warm cum on my stomach and chest and I savor the view of his body letting go.

He leans down, his mouth craving mine. My tongue searches for his, but he pulls back, pressing his forehead to mine. Our bodies are pressed together and I realize there’s something weirdly hot about a man not afraid to touch his own cum.

He pulls back further, making my body instantly crave his warmth again. “Come on. Let’s clean up.”

“What? No warm towel service?” I tease.

He shakes his head and grumbles something under his breath. Before I can say anything though, he scoops me into his arms and carries me out of bed. I can’t help but giggle all the way to the en suite bathroom.

He starts the shower, waiting for the temperature to be just right before pulling us both in.

“Ok. This is better than towel service.” I look into his eyes, but he doesn’t seem amused. He just grabs my body wash and scrubs me. I take a dab of it and do the same to him.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” I ask, stepping closer to him, continuing to run a hand over his thin, dark chest hair, leaving my hand over the wolf tattoo.

His concerned eyes study my face. “Nothing. Just don’t let anyone ever tell you who you are, Lizzy.” He keeps looking at me, but it’s like he’s haunted by a distant, sad memory. He shakes his head, realizing he’s been staring and grabs my shampoo. “Turn around.”

He doesn’t give me the chance to follow his order and turns me around on his own. I’m realizing I like the way he manhandles me with his big strong hands. I thought it would be a fun change when I first saw him at Roxy’s. Something to try on for size for a night. But now, it’s comforting in a way I didn’t know I wanted. Maybe even needed.

I lean back against him, feeling his cock against my lower back because he’s so much taller than me. But when he starts to work the shampoo into my hair with those same, strong hands, dear god. I whimper at the heavenly touch. Now this I could get used to.

I hear him sigh behind me and press himself harder against my lower back. “Something wrong?” I ask.

His hands keep working and I really can’t get enough of it. “This shampoo. This smell. I’ve been thinking about it every day since that night at Roxy’s.”

Something about that statement sends another jolt to my core.

“You’re not what I expected that night.” A low laugh rumbles in his chest and I can feel it against my back. He doesn’t talk, but he keeps massaging my scalp, permission to keep going. “I knew you were hot. I assumed you knew what you were doing in bed. I thought you’d be a fun distraction. But Clay, you’re so much more.”

“Oh yeah?” Another laugh rumbles behind me. He pulls me under the warm shower and starts to rinse my hair. “What am I like? Tell me.”

I tilt my head back, leaning into him more and enjoying the hot, steamy water running over me while his hands run through my wet hair. “I don’t know. You look young, but you’re somehow old and soulful. You’re just different. You’re not just a pretty face. You’re more. ”

“That sounds an awful lot like extra . Very original.” There’s a playful, teasing tone to his voice.

I spin and lean against the cool shower wall, crossing my arms and playfully glaring at him. “Fuck off, Clay.”

He laughs and turns off the water, stepping out and grabbing two towels. “Come on. I’ll tuck you in, princess.”

He grabs my hand, pulling me from the shower and drying me. After putting on my sleep shorts and oversized tee, I crawl into bed. To my surprise, he curls up behind me, draping a massive arm over me, pulling me in tightly. “I didn’t think you’d be the cuddling type.”

I hear a frustrated sigh behind me. “Shut up, Lizzy. You’re ruining it.”

And with that, I doze off in his arms. Completely, blissfully, not giving a shit about how my day started out. This is exactly how Clay said he’d make me feel. This is not what I expected.

Clay is not what I expected.

When I wake, I reach behind me, suddenly missing the warmth that I enjoyed all night. I rollover, breathing in the scent of Clay.

Wait.

Oh my god.

My eyes fly open.

I hooked up with Clay last night. My best friend’s soon-to-be-brother-in-law. He’s my friend too. Also sort of my roommate. We didn’t even talk about rules or anything.

My mind races. This could be a mess. I’m going to need to process this, but not right now .

Because all I can think about is the way he treated me last night. Like I was the only thing in the world that mattered. He did what he said he would do, make me feel like nothing else mattered and remind me who I am.

After my eyes adjust to the morning light peering in the window, I look over at the nightstand, noticing a small package wrapped in pink paper with a sparkly bow. I reach for it and carefully open it.

It’s a novel. Of course, it’s a smutty one. I feel my heart flutter when I open the book and see the note card in it.

Thought you’d like this. And no, I haven’t dog eared any of your precious pages. Happy birthday, Princess.

I feel a stray tear run down my cheek onto the fluffy pillow. A tear, that for once, doesn’t bother or upset me.

Clay Chapman is definitely not what I expected.