Page 9

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FULTON: ONE, ORAL VIRGINITY: ZERO

FULTON

W e stumble into the hotel room, my arm flailing behind me as the door slams shut with a wall-shaking thud. Ever since I saw Shiloh in that ridiculously sexy one-piece jogging over to me Baywatch -style, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I didn’t expect her to agree to a date redo, nor did I expect her to let me kiss her again, but now I’m in another love-lust predicament that’s captured my not-so-subtle erection as a prisoner of war.

I’m way in over my head; I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. All I know is that I’m a mere mortal kneeling before a deity, and I’d make a religion in her name if it meant that I got the privilege of tasting her.

She stamps kisses all over my lips, sloppily nips at the stretch of skin beneath my jaw, and pretty much makes me lose my vice-like grip on all my faculties. She’s ravaging me like an ambush predator that’s waited for this exact moment to strike, and the thought of sinking my canines into her and marking my territory flashes across my hindbrain. The thin skin of her neck, the meat of her inner thighs, the breasts that now jut out prominently beneath her mouthwatering valley of cleavage. All my thoughts are cobbled together in this giant mess that’s been commandeered by animalistic instinct.

Even though I don’t want to, I break for air, panting. “Are you sure?” I ask, my fingers furled into her sides in an effort to keep my legs steady.

She nods, smushing her tits against my chest, her pebbled nipples poking through the flimsy, nylon fabric that’s been testing my self-restraint all day. God, I’m about to lose it—my mind, my load, everything. The longer I play with the swimsuit that cling wraps to her figure, the stronger the insatiable ache in my groin becomes. Her silky skin sparkles in the midday sun, a flawless canvas that I need to chart with my hands and tongue—that I need to shower in a hailstorm of hickeys.

“I’m sure,” she says breathlessly, her tongue caressing mine in a breakneck rush, and her hands pawing helplessly at my hair before she manages to tangle her fingers in the strands. When she yanks hard enough to crick my neck, she invites me deeper into her mouth, hunger and desperation building a crescendo that vibrates through my lower belly. I accept the access greedily—a broken groan tearing through my throat—and I bear the brunt of our combined weight against the wall.

Shit. This is really happening. Okay, calm down, Fulton. Relax. You’ve got this. Don’t overthink it. Just communicate with her. Oh my God. What if I blow in my pants before I even get her undressed?

I keep my hands on her waist out of respect, but they itch to slip to the R-rated parts of her, to grab the bottom of her butt and knead the doughy flesh with my fingers. But in my pitiful, hilariously unfortunate case, worry works as swiftly as unfettered impulse.

I pull away for the second time, unable to ignore the little voice in the back of my head that heeds me to proceed with caution. “I’ve never been intimate with anyone like this before. I don’t know how to…”

Shiloh’s face falls. “How to…? ”

Hesitation takes precedence over the conversation, and I hate that I’m even considering an alternate reality where I’m not in some Shiloh-kiss coma for the rest of the night. Despite my cock straining against my swim trunks, her comfort is more important.

“How to touch you,” I eventually finish.

She lets out a small giggle—one that I shouldn’t love the sound of so much, and one that wrings pleasure from every inch of my body. “I can show you, but you’re doing a pretty good job of it yourself.”

Suddenly, she slides my hands down to her ass, and the gusset of her swimsuit rides up enough to expose a portion of her perky cheeks, imploring me to mold them into my own playthings.

Oh, fuck.

“But I don’t want to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do,” she quickly rushes out.

I grab her butt with enough force to make her body lurch, letting her feel just how aroused I am from the simple proximity alone. My engorged cock pokes into her belly, and I elicit a moan from her loud enough to justify a noise complaint.

“Trust me, Shi, this is the only thing I want to do.”

Her eyes stray down to the… problem …standing between us, and for the first time since she initiated this sexual escapade, concern hardens the hinge of her jaw. “You feel…”

“Good? Bad?”

“Big.”

I—oh. What am I supposed to say to that?

Heat shoots up the back of my neck, drenching me in a film of sweat that’s about to be a lot more noticeable in a few minutes. “Right. Um, we don’t have to go any further. I’m good with just kissing. I love just kissing.”

“Sorry,” she backtracks, scraping her bottom lip between her teeth. “I didn’t mean it like a bad thing. I’m just…not sure if I’m ready for that right now.”

And suddenly, the nerves and the anxiety and the doubt all get sucked out of my head by an invisible force, leaving me with the raw realization that no matter how the night ends, I want to spend my time pleasuring the girl who’s done nothing but reassure me this entire trip.

“We can stop,” I tell her. “We can order room service and stay in. You can pick a movie, or we can go for a walk, or we can really do whatever you?—”

I’m so distracted with yapping her ear off that I don’t even realize the movement of her nimble fingers before it’s too late. She slowly lowers her bathing suit straps—revealing the goose bumps that pepper her now-bare chest—and I drag my gaze down her body until I reach the sliver of space just below her navel where the fabric bunches. I think my brain’s malfunctioning.

I’ve seen some pairs of tits in my time, alright? In the occasional Playboy magazine, during that one awkward episode of Bridgerton when my mom was in the room, even when I was flashed by some die-hard fans after an exhilarating game. But none of those boobs were as perfect as Shiloh’s. I can’t help the way my mouth waters like it’s some Pavlovian response, and the sight of her hardened nipples sends a goddamn signal to inflate my dick even more.

Her throat works with a swallow. “Is it okay if we?—”

“Yes. A thousand times yes.”

Before she can overthink her next response, I grab Shiloh by the underside of her thighs, hoist her onto my hips, and carry her to the opposite side of the room where the ceiling-tall window overlooks the balcony. She clings to me, drilling her fingernails into my back with a smarting sting that doesn’t come anywhere close to offsetting the pain in my balls. I’m running on primal adrenaline at this point, and some newly awakened part of me needs her up against the window while I have my fill of her.

“Are you sure you haven’t done this before?” she quips, her spine arching against the glass.

Just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean I haven’t done extensive research on the topic at hand. In the delirious hope of experiencing sex for the first time, I felt like there were certain things I needed to know. How sensitive the clit is, how crucial foreplay is, how important it is to communicate and set boundaries in the bedroom. Let’s just say I spent an embarrassingly long time on Quora asking questions that have since been erased from my internet search history. It also helps that my teammates were more than willing to divulge their own sexual experiences.

Laughter plumes from my lips, but it’s slowly swallowed up by another mind-spinning, knee-buckling kiss, strong enough to warrant one of my hands shooting out to bracket the side of her head. She hikes her leg up and drapes it over my waist, eagerly chasing my tongue with hers, then granting me a genuine, keening moan that flies up from the depths of her gut.

“I’m sure. I’ve never wanted to be with anyone beside you.”

I leave out the part where my imagination’s delusionally Velcroed the two of us together for the past four years, so I haven’t even looked at another girl since her. That’s…that’s laying it on thick.

I experiment with tracing the outline of her breasts, and when she consents and boasts them to me, I squeeze the mound of her tit with my free hand. I’m nearly sundered by a hurricane of possessiveness by her half-open mouth, fluttering eyelids, and a tightening of her abdominal muscles that tells me she’s just as sexually charged as I am. Then I swirl the pad of my thumb over her nipple, gauging her willingness before deciding to flick a nail over the tiny erogenous zone .

“Oh, fuck,” she whispers, rutting her hips into my crotch as her fingernails bear down on my shoulders, hard.

I tend to her bud with twice the speed, the added obstacle of her grinding into me enough to make me black out. She’s taking a hot knife to my senses, and they’re separating like melted butter under a searing blade.

“Tell me what you need from me.”

The sexiest whimper rumbles in her chest, and she—albeit contemplatively—leads my hand from her breast down the slender length of her stomach, then trails it below the hood of her clit where I’m greeted by the damp gusset of her swimwear.

Every muscle in my body seizes, and I can feel my cock spit a sizable helping of pre-cum against the inside of my trunks.

How is she—? We’ve barely even done anything.

I’m breathless, my vision is splotchy, and my head’s ringing in a pleasure-pain throb that almost steals a moan from me. “Are you always this wet?” I ask, pulling a bit of the fabric aside so I can brush my fingers against her slick.

She shakes her head, and for a split moment, her meek side peeks through that dominant veil. “Only around you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

I’ve made it, folks. I can die an accomplished man now.

I barely breach her inner ring of muscle before withdrawing my arm, lifting my fingers to my lips and tasting her on them. She’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever fucking tasted. I’m like a man starved, licking my skin clean, so unsatisfied that I don’t think I’ll be able to picture a universe where I’m not servicing her needs twenty-four-seven. I can smell the faintness of her musk, and a deluge of desire punctures a hole through the levee of my rationale.

Her ecstasy-laden tone nearly has me falling to my knees, that sweet, innocent tenor of hers firing an uncontrollable shudder through my body. “Fulton, please. ”

I adjust the crotch of my trunks, but my dick’s so incredibly hard that it doesn’t alleviate any of the pressure. My tone’s more authoritative than I intend, and it comes out in a rolling growl with enough brass to jostle the walls. “No, Shi. You never have to beg. Ever. I’m the one who begs. Do you understand?”

When she nods stiffly, I clamber to my knees, grabbing the rest of her pooled swimsuit and yanking it down with enough force to undress her in one go. She’s completely bare—not that I wouldn’t explore the wilderness if she hadn’t shaved—and she sucks in her belly, drawing it away from the cradle of her protruding hipbones. It drives me crazy that her naked ass is pressed up against the window right now.

Even though the sun’s still out, it would be hard for anyone to see into our room given the height and positioning of the balcony, so the last thing I’m concerned about is garnering some unwanted attention.

“Can I taste you, Sunshine? Please? Please let me taste you. I’ll do anything you want. I’ll give you anything you want.”

I have no idea where that nickname came from, but I don’t apologize for letting it slip out.

Her gaze ping-pongs between me and the window. “What if someone sees?”

I never thought I was a possessive man…until Shiloh. Something guttural builds in the pit of my chest—something that doesn’t sound like me at all. “Are you worried for your sake or theirs?”

Her brows dent. “Why would I be worried for their sake?”

“Because I’ll kill them if they look.”

She sobers and laughs a little. “Hah, Fulton, that’s…”

I’m not a stranger to fights—thank you, hockey, for that very healing and not-at-all unhealthy outlet. When my team needs me, I’ll always have their back. When my girl needs me, I’m good with slamming a perv’s head through the window if he so much as breathes in her direction .

“I’m serious, Shi. It’s just you and me in here. I’ll never be okay with sharing you.”

“Then be selfish. God , be selfish with me.”

I can never resist Shiloh—it doesn’t matter what she asks of me. She needs help hiding a dead body? I’ll be her airtight alibi. She needs me to get her a passport and hair dye, no questions asked? I’m putting her on a private jet out of the country. But especially right now, as she pouts her lips and preens under my stare, I can’t say no to her.

All my previous anxiousness vanishes, giving leeway to the selfish appetite that coils in my abdomen like a viper. I clamp my hands into her curves to anchor myself, and I lick a thick stripe up her inner thigh, the smell of her arousal compounding the needy jerk of my cock. I prod the flesh with my teeth, tenderize it with ruthless sucks and nibbles, perfecting a hickey that I know she’ll see for days.

She quivers as a moan snags in her throat, her hand braiding itself through the front of my hair and pulling when I hit a sensitive spot. The force nearly unbalances me, but I don’t stop until there’s a sizeable bruise there.

“You tell me what you like, okay? And if you need me to stop, I’ll stop,” I assure her, coming undone at the seams the moment I delve my tongue inside her tight cunt, lapping up the excess that trickles past her swollen lips. I’m not completely sure what I’m doing, so I start with measured strokes, circling my tongue with just enough torque to make her back come off the window.

“Fuck,” she whimpers, and a consequential burn ripples along my scalp.

She tastes like heaven—like ambrosia so sweet that it could put even the strongest of gods in a coma. I familiarize myself with her inner walls, upholding a rhythmic cadence as I suck more of her cum into my mouth, and I have to smother a grin when I spur her hips to cant forward. She’s greedily clawing at me for more, fighting to stay coherent amidst a heady fog, her shallow pants and sexy moans mingling together and stroking more than just my ego.

Shiloh’s leg suddenly comes up to rest on my shoulder, providing me with the perfect angle to piston deeper, and that’s exactly what I do. I speed up each lash and flick of my tongue, stoking the rapidly growing fire inside her, this time venturing to crevices I haven’t even touched yet. Her ankle digs into my taut upper back, my cock weeps enough pre-cum to saturate my entire front, and the urge to release sucker punches me in my fucking gut.

Shiloh’s cunt squeezes roughly. “Oh, God. Yes, Fulton. Faster!”

I do as my woman says, sweeping my tongue back and forth against that inner ring of muscle that beckons me deeper, that hollows in spastic pulses and ushers a flood of liquid desire over my taste buds. She’s sensitive—like, one-touch-and-she’ll-detonate sensitive.

And I’m a sick fuck for being turned on by it.

I haven’t come up for a proper breath in minutes. I’m going to have a headache by the time she’s done ripping my hair out. When I stimulate the perfect nerve, I can feel her standing leg give, and I pull away just enough to witness the raw pleasure contorting her features, the tremble of her lower lip, the tears waterfalling down her pinkened cheeks.

“Don’t—don’t stop,” she pants, conjuring enough energy to glance down at me.

I lick the essence of her off my lips, deriving a drawn-out groan from her in the process. “Does my girl like it when I lick… here ?”

My tongue lathes over her soaking flaps, nowhere near deep enough to carve her out like I was doing before, but her whole body tenses, nonetheless.

“Yes. ”

Barely a whisper, far from an admission.

“Say it, Sunshine. Use your words.”

“Yes, Fulton. I… love …when you lick there.”

“How about when I bite… here ?” I ask, taking one of her southern lips between my teeth and pulling gently.

A moan loud enough to set off a goddamn avalanche permeates the hotel room. Even though I’m not nose-deep inside of her, I can still feel the way her poor pussy clenches around nothing, searching helplessly for the friction that’ll bring her to the snow-cloaked precipice.

The hunger inside me is untamable, bloodthirsty. She’s so obedient, so willing, so desperate . She’s the perfect prey—a lamb caught between the maw of a wolf, at my very mercy, with a hold so loose on her inhibitions that she wouldn’t dare be anything but malleable under my hands. There’s a creature molting inside me, shedding its innocent exterior to make way for its true nature. I’m not myself when I’m around her.

A broken plea leaps from her tongue, her words initiating a chemical reaction to the wick of lust waiting patiently inside me. “Y-yes. I need…more.”

I sit back on my heels, palming the giant bulge in my swim trunks, hooded eyes scanning in lazy perusal over the goddess before me. “I know. You’re doing so well. Now let me watch you play with your clit like a good girl.”

Whoa. Where the hell did that come from? I can’t dirty talk for shit.

With core-shaking tremors, Shiloh does as I say, snaking her arm between her bitten thighs. There are translucent streaks on her face, and her eyes are tapioca pearls ringed in the warmest of brown hues, now lacquered with a thin gloss of tears.

She flicks her finger over her lips, gathering enough momentum to continue in a swift succession, and I’m drooling like a fucking mutt as I watch moisture glaze her skin. The fullness in my balls is becoming harder to ignore, and the pain is to the point where it hurts to touch my cock, let alone rub it. Sharp, needle-fine pinpricks lance up my shaft.

Shiloh submerges her digit to the knuckle—the magnified sound of squelching echoing off the walls—and her face momentarily screws up before bliss chases the teeth-gritting discomfort away. Tiny little mewls pervade the air, gelled together with half-hearted curses, and she heightens the pain in my dick when she sinks another finger inside her greedy cunt.

“Fuck, Sunshine. That’s it. Look at how wet you are. You’re so beautiful like this.”

She rides her hand, the warmth from her body producing condensation on the glass. “It’s too much. I can’t?—”

I can barely focus on her. I feel like I’m about to pass out. I’m not sure what happens next, but the dominant monster that prowls inside of me finally breaks free from its shackles.

A growl rumbles through my chest, and I rub my thumb over the leaking tip of my cock. “You can, and you will. Now spit on it.”

Shock shadows Shiloh’s expression, but she removes her hand to follow through with my order, spitting into her palm before slapping it over the hood of her clit, where the mix of wetness is scratching an itch I didn’t even know I had.

Jesus… fuck . I can’t take this anymore. I pull my pants down inhumanly fast, letting my cock finally spring out and bow down from its heavy weight, angry, red-hued, and vein-riddled.

Shiloh gasps and stares at it. “I can help?—”

“You are helping,” I insist, gently moving her hand aside so I can feast on the sweetest pussy I’ll ever taste.

Once I slurp up the thickness of her spit and the proliferation of her salt-tinged cum, I drown in her. It’s the kind of drowning that crushes my lungs and fuzzes my senses, but I love it. I’m determined to make her gush all over my face, and judging by the straining of her muscles, she’s almost there. She just needs a little… push .

My tongue dances inside her, and with a heave of her chest, her pussy gives one last flutter before she’s coming inside my mouth. I swallow everything she gives me, so inexplicably high on her that I have every intention of riding out this tidal wave of euphoria before hitting the cold, hard ground.

I’m so focused on licking her walls clean that I don’t even see my own orgasm careening toward me at hyper speed, crashing headfirst into my body and causing me to spurt plentiful, pearlescent ropes onto the hardwood floor. I just narrowly miss her feet, and Shiloh has to practically pry me off her cunt.

“Is that coming out of the deposit?” she asks in between ragged breaths.

I don’t even bother looking at the mess, and I lean forward to groan into her shoulder. “It’s your fault,” I mutter.

“How is that my fault?”

“How is it not your fault? That whole show would’ve made any guy spray like a firehose.”

Shiloh muffles a giggle, thwapping me on the shoulder. “Ew, Fulton!”

I lift my head to look at her, the last of the post orgasmic aftershocks dimming to a barely noticeable buzz. “Hey, I’m just telling the truth! Pretty sure that was the peak of my entire life.”

Even though it’s tailed by airy laughter, she leans her forehead against mine, curls of her sweat-matted hair tickling my temples. “You’re really good at that,” she whispers.

“Don’t say that,” I grumble.

“Why?”

“Because you’re making me hard again.”