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CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Becca

Aroused by his weight in my hand and the taste of the salty pearl drop, I feel my core tightening as I take John into my mouth. I hold the back of his thigh with one hand and hold the base while I get my rhythm.

“Fuck, Bex.”

Those words alone create a mini wave of arousal, leaking from my center. I need more so I move one hand to my clit and rub while I suck.

“You’re a dream.” He pulls my hair back. taking my mouth off his head. “Keep going.”

I can’t stop what I’m doing even if I tried. John’s watching me get myself off. He runs his head over my lips. “Don’t stop, gorgeous.”

My fingers move faster and faster. I lean back on my ass, releasing my feet in front of me as I rasp, “I’m coming.”

He pants as he strokes himself, and my legs squeeze together. John goes to his knees, lifts my ass up so the apex of my being is in his face, then he licks the juice from my body. “Better than imagined.”

He nibbles on my clit, pushing his fingers inside my body until I’m shaking once again. “Feels so good. ”

“I’ll suck and lick you all damn day—a feast fit for a king.”

I giggle as he presses my knees in a butterfly position, and every time my legs try to close, he forces them wide. “You’re making me come again.”

“That’s why I’m here.”

His tongue flickers, then drags. Flickers, then drags.

His finger curls inside me until I can no longer breathe, and an orgasm so explosive bursts from my body.

My back arches, and my toes curl. Even with John holding my legs, they don’t close but straighten.

My lids close, allowing myself to bask in the feel of John’s hands caressing my legs and kissing my center.

Bliss is real. My body relaxes, and John peppers my legs, torso, and chest with tiny, incomplete kisses like he’s opening and almost closing but doesn’t quite make it as his bottom lip hangs back, trailing behind.

When he reaches my lips, I taste the tanginess of me on his tongue. At first, I draw back. Dennis never kissed me after going down on me. Why? Did I not want him to? Did I ever ask him to?

“Sweet Becca has a little spice,” John says, dipping his finger into my mouth. I wrap my lips around it in a pucker. I hope it looks like those sexy girls with a lollipop, but I know it doesn’t. “I’m going to kiss you until there’s no more Becca on my tongue.”

John pulls me into his lap, wrapping my legs around him, and we explore and taste until our bodies want more.

He mumbles over my lips, “What do you want Becca?”

“I want you to break me, and I… want to break you.” I say as my chest heaves, and my heart pounds wildly, so much that my ribs physically hurt.

“The moment your lips touched mine, you broke me.”

My heart stammers. A slow burn unfurls in my chest because I’ve never seen this side of John.

He cared for me and talked me off a mental ledge when Mamaw died.

Then, through the divorce, he always told me everything will work out.

But have I ever seen him so vulnerable and exposed to tell me that I already broke him?

No.

His eyes normally sparkle with mischief and arrogance. Not now. The desire in his eyes is palpable. His rough and tender hands slide along my skin as we lean into each other.

He rises from the floor, pressing my heated skin against the cool glass. With his strong forearm underneath my ass, the other one glides his length through my folds. I’m already wet, but he continues to tease me.

“Wait. Wait,” I say in a tight whisper. “Condom.”

John’s head falls back from my neck, expelling a groan, and I attempt to wiggle down his body, but he secures me with both hands. He quickly moves us into the bathroom, his hand shuffling through his travel bag. His lips smile against mine when I hear the crackling of the foil packet.

He sits me on the sink and hands me the packet. “It’s time to see if it was a truth or a lie. Ready to see if it fits?”

I swallow deep and slow. John’s been in my mouth and instead of thinking the condom will be too big, I’m wondering if the magnum size will be too small.

Placing the thin metal sheeting between my teeth, I pull the packet in the opposite direction until the unmistakable sound of the seal breaking open swooshes.

Hanging his head to watch me roll it on, one hand plays with my hair. It’s a beachy mess, filled with sand, but he seems to love it. “Don’t be shy. He’s been waiting a long time for this.”

I smirk, “He has?”

He nods with his lids heavy as I roll it to the base of his shaft.

“It’s a little big… the condom,” I say in a teasing tone.

John’s eyes pop wide. “What?”

“The condom is a little big,” I reiterate.

He looks down between us and laughs. “Too big? It’s cutting my damn circulation off, and I need the circulation because… ”

I pull him between my knees. Our kisses start off sweet, but before I know it, we’re back against the patio glass, sweating with desire.

Even though his dick is sheathed, I can feel it pulse as he slides through my folds.

He rubs his head against my clit. Dennis never realized that my bundle of nerves was the key for me having orgasms. But John innately knows.

Teasing my entrance with his large head, he whispers, “I hope you’re ready to break.

You’re a strong, sinfully beautiful woman, and I know you can take every inch. ”

I’m climaxing by his words, producing the coating we need since the rubber isn’t lubricated.

My pulse skitters as he inches in, moving and swirling his hips. Then suddenly, he pushes all the way in, and I yelp in pain.

“Relax, give it a minute for your body to adjust.” He rocks from side to side, up and back and he must feel my muscles uncoil and says in a raw, hungry tone, “I promise you’ll be begging for it deeper and harder.” Then he whispers again, “Deeper and harder.”

He pushes in, then comes out—not all the way, but some.

“Sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

He lifts a brow. “If the condom fits…”

I’ve never had sex while I talked, and I admit I’m enjoying the arrogance, the confidence, the playfulness.

“Next time, I’ll buy them and get the correct size.”

He glances away, twisting his lips in a grimace. “It’s the biggest size they make.”

I give him a saccharine smile, and he lifts my butt up and slams me down to the base of his shaft, and I cry out. It’s as if my body is splitting in half. But by the third time, I say in broken breaths, “You’re right. It’s bigger than the condom.”

“That’s my girl.”

His girl. I like the sound of that.

Since I gave in, I expect him to let up, but he slides me up and down faster and harder. My short fingernails dig into his shoulders. “Yes, Yes,” I shout. “Oh God, yes.” My back squeaks against the glass like when it’s being cleaned.

I’m on the precipice of an orgasm. It’s been building between the pain and pleasure. “I’m… I’m.”

My body goes taut as I try to stave it off, not wanting it to end. I bite down on his shoulder, which sends his hips into overdrive, flattening my back against the glass and pistoning his hips hard against me. John fills every millimeter inside my walls, giving me everything he has.

Then he stops. Just stops. “Did you hear that?”

Breathless and panting, I say, “No. Come on, John. I want you to… you know.”

“I thought I heard your name.”

“That was you whispering my name.”

He seems to buy it and fucks me slow as if he wants to make sure no one is around. After a few minutes of long, languid stokes, he spins me around. “Hands on the glass.”

I don’t know how many times I’ve come today. Or how many times I’ve shouted his name, but this raw, pure sex is exhilarating.

John plunges into me repeatedly with one hand on my hip to keep his rhythmic flow, and the other on my clit. I can hardly believe that I feel my core tightening once again, but I do as his movements become erratic.

“Bex, I need to go harder.”

Can it be any harder?

“Go for it.”

That’s all it takes. He slams into me at a blistering pace; my shoulders are hitting the glass. I try to extend my arms so we can have more of a foundation.

“Fuck, you’re dripping every time I pull out. So, fucking beautiful that I want to stop and lick, but I can’t. I’m so close.”

He pinches my clit and rubs it hard against my pelvic bone at the same moment he slams into me. “I…I can’t…broken.”

He pulls out, spins me once again to face him, and rips off the condom. His head falls back as he grips his dick and strokes it wildly as he comes all over my neck and chest. When he’s finished, his body relaxes, and his lips saunter from my cheek to my lips.

Our limbs are like wet noodles, and we take a tumble onto the floor and manage to topple the floor lamp, breaking the shade.

“You broke me and the lamp,” I snicker, then suddenly I realize that my relationship with John has changed.

As much as I wanted to have sex with him and feel his body against mine and in mine, I hadn’t thought too much about the repercussions of the sex.

Especially since his confession that I’m the only one for him.

He pushes us to a sitting position, absently brushing his hand over my skin. Neither of us know what to do next. Do I stay right here? Do I scurry to the bathroom? Do we want the same things? I do know I want to have sex with John again.

As I glance into his eyes, I don’t see regret, but I do feel the confusion in his muscles. Athletes don’t like the unknown. We’re people who live by schedules and rules and more schedules and more rules. If we know the challenge, we can confront it. Not knowing is a bitch. And here we are.

“Can we keep this between us?” I ask.

For a split second, hurt is scribbled all over his face like lines from a toddler’s drawing. He clears his throat, rising to his feet and helping me up. There’s a trace of sarcasm in his voice when he says, “Whatever makes you happy.”