Rocked by Him (17 page)

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Authors: Lucy Lambert

BOOK: Rocked by Him
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"Oh, God!" I yelled before my voice turned into a wordless, primal scream of pure pleasure.

My climax overcame me, overpowering all other senses like a tsunami overcame all barriers. It spread to every nerve, every fiber in me. And still that tongue of his didn't let up.

Every muscle in me tensed for what I knew to be a few moments, but felt like an hour. When my arched body finally relaxed on the bed, Drake, panting, pulled away from me.

Even in the shadowy darkness of my room I could see my wetness glistening on his cheeks. I panted for breath, wanting more but not knowing if I could withstand it.

But I knew that it needed to be now. It had to happen right at that moment. I didn't want to face why I thought that way.

"I want to be with you," I said, letting my fingers run down his body, down the little dimples made by his abs.

He let me unbutton his jeans, helped me slide them down. He kicked them off. His manhood sprang to stiff attention, so rigid. A tingle ran through my body when I looked at it. It made me feel so good that I could make him want me like that, that I could make him hard for me like that.

I tried to touch it, but he grabbed my wrist. Then he grabbed the other. Using only one hand, he pinned them on the mattress above my head.

"Yes... yes..." I said, my body still writhing beneath him as he spread my legs apart. My walls trembled with anticipation as he held himself steady above me, guiding himself to my entrance.

We both gasped when our bare flesh touched. A moan escaped my lips when he pushed, parting my tightness so that he could sink into me. He groaned, too, as my heat and wetness surrounded him.

I got so tight it was as though my body wanted to hold him back, even though it actually wanted the opposite. He spread my clutching walls apart, forcing himself, inch by rigid inch, into me.

I tried to kiss him, but he pulled his face back, his manhood throbbing inside me.

Even though he had my wrists pinned, he could do nothing about my legs. These I wrapped around his back, locking my ankles together up in the air.

Then I pulled him closer. His mouth dropped open as he sank all the way into me. His eyes scrunched shut, and the ends of his long hair tickled at my cheeks.

It felt like my heart wanted to bash its way out of my chest. The blood pumped so quickly through my veins that I heard it crashing past my ears.

Despite only just starting, we both glistened with sweat. I relished the way he felt within me.

"Kiss me," I said, struggling to free my wrists.

Drake lowered his face to mine, but at the last moment diverted his glistening lips to against run a hot trail down my neck. I breathed in the fresh, natural scent of his hair, my body still buzzing from his constant teasing.

My legs eased when I felt him begin withdrawing. I pushed my head against the mattress, the feelings of his hardness rubbing against my walls so good it almost hurt.

He kept pulling out until only the very end remained. When he pulled his mouth away from me, I looked down our bodies to see his slick length, poised to slide into me once more.

"Drake... Kiss me..." I said again.

He thrust into me hard enough to shake the bed. Ecstasy exploded throughout my body, bursts of color appearing in my eyes. Were they open or closed? I couldn't tell any more, and I didn't care.

I let myself slip away from the past, from the future. There was only that present moment with Drake, our naked bodies pressed together, his manhood thrusting with steady rhythm into me even while I tightened my grip around him.

At some point, he finally kissed me, his mouth molten against mine. Our flesh really did feel as one.

And when he let go of my wrists, I grabbed onto his heaving shoulders. The heat of his own desire flushed his skin, and he hissed when I dug my nails into him.

But then I could no longer hold the sensations welling up inside me at bay. His thrusting grew more insistent, faster, harder, when he saw his effect on me. My legs trembled with the effort of keeping locked around him, my head thrashed against the bed even while I begged him for more, to not stop.

I thought I felt his lips on me again, but then my climax hit me. It got so intense that it felt like I drifted between consciousness and some unknown plane of pure carnal pleasure.

My walls tightened around him, clamping along his length, trying to keep him inside me. Then they relaxed, only to clench up against a moment later. Each time, I heard Drake gasp a little.

I felt somehow light and heavy at the same time. A sensation of weightlessness took me so, so that it was as though only Drake kept me from floating away on the waves of pleasure rocking through me.

He nuzzled my neck, waiting for my climax to release control of my body once more. When it did, my rigid body went limp against the bed. As before, an intense and cool relief ran through me. My muscles trembled from their exertions, and my ankles almost unlocked from around his back.

I let my leg fall to the side. My hands reached out to stroke Drake's cheeks. I was so acutely aware of his stubble scraping against my skin. All my senses seemed heightened, and my awareness of the present moment increased.

I pulled him down for another long kiss, even as I worked my walls to massage him inside me. He groaned and tried to pull his face back, but I didn't let him.

He pulled out of me and I felt suddenly incomplete, like we were two halves of one person and we needed to be surrounding each other, embracing constantly, to become whole.

I reached down between our bodies and took his manhood in my hand. He felt so stiff, so wet from thrusting into me. He'd made me feel so good. Now it was his turn.

I stroked him hard and fast with both hands.

"Oh..." Drake said
, arching his neck, his eyes scrunching shut in that expression of pleasure bordering on pain once more.

I could feel him getting close, getting even harder and trembling in my hand. My own body responded. It felt good to make him feel good.

"Jenn!" he cried out.

My fingers raced up and down his length, urging him to his own climax. His hot seed spilt out on my stomach, and I didn't stop stroking him until I'd gotten all I could from him.

His arms shook from the effort of holding himself over me, and I thought of how drained I'd felt just moments earlier, coming down from my climax. I released him, and he rolled onto his back beside me.

Neither of us could speak. Instead, we lay beside each oth
er, looking up at my ceiling. His hand found mine, and his fingers trembled. Mine did, too. I'm not sure how long we stayed there, wrapped in the comforting cocoon of post-coital bliss.

My thoughts remained blessedly simple, revolving around how being with him had been everything I'd expected and more.

Soon thereafter, I almost fell asleep listening to Drake's quiet breaths.

But all good things must come to an end. Although in this cas
e, the ending of one good thing led to another.

We climbed out of my bed, over the piles of clothes strewn about on the floor, directly to my bathroom and the hot shower awaiting us inside.

The steaming water hissed and splashed, washing the sweat of our loving off our naked bodies. I thought to my last shower, about fantasizing about having Drake there with me.

My dreams had become reality, it seemed. His strong arms pulling my wet body against his proved that. He kissed me again, gently at first.

It wasn't long before I felt his passion strengthen between us, and he took me again. We finished, sore but satisfied. My mirror had fogged up completely during this last interval.

Taking the time only t
o dry ourselves, we went back to my bed and collapsed on it. He lay on his back, and I rested against the side of his body. The steady thud of his heart lulled me to sleep.

***

An incredible thirst woke me sometime later. It took some effort to disentangle myself from Drake's arm, being as gentle as possible so that I wouldn't wake him.

Only the weak light of the streetlamps shone in through the crack in the curtains, and the clock said it was early in the morning, just after 4:00 AM. I found a terrycloth house coat and pulled it on, smiling at its softness against my skin.

It seemed Drake had managed to work out every muscle in my body. It felt like I'd just come back from a three-hour session at the gym, my muscles and joints crying at me to move slowly while I bumped my way through the darkness into the kitchen.

The sudden bright light from the fridge when I opened the door left me squinting, but I found the water pitcher and even managed to grab a glass from the cupboard without making too much noise.

I leaned with one hand against the countertop, taking sips from the glass. The water soothed my throat on its way down, and left a cool feeling in my stomach. I liked how cold the glass felt in my grip.

Finishing, I put the empty glass on the counter and started on my way back to bed, planning to sleep through the alarm and then go get some breakfast with Drake.

But then I saw the flashing red light in the darkness. It was the phone, and it only flashed like that when someone left a message.

Had it been there when we'd come in?
Difficult to tell, since Drake had lifted me up and carried me straight to the bedroom. It could have been waiting for me all day and night.

I knew that I should have just gone back to bed and listened to it later, but the mysterious content of the voicemail grabbed hold of the curious part of me and wouldn't let go.

So I went and closed the bedroom door, then went into the kitchen and turned on the light.

1 New Message the little screen on the phone read. A little thread of anxiety tightened around my heart when I reached up and pushed the Play button.

A robotic male voice read out the time and date the message was left. It was from yesterday, when I'd been in Bud's office.

"Hey Jennifer... It's your mom..."

Right away, that thread of anxiety turned into a full-blown rope, choking off my circulation. Mom never called! She hated the phone.

"I know I already explained about your father in that last letter... But there's more news. And it's not good. The doctors say that he's not responding very well to the treatments..."

Mom's voiced sounded a little tinny over the phone. When she began talking about the doctors, her voice broke up. I could practically feel her trying to hold back the tears. A sympathetic pressure built behind my eyes, and I had to hold myself up against the counter.

"There's a new drug that just came out. I can't think of the name.
Some weird medical word. You know what I mean. Anyway, they said it's probably his best chance... But Jennifer, it's nearly $90 for each pill! And they said he'd need to take four throughout the day, and he'll need them for the rest of his life..." mom's voice broke up completely here.

My hand crept up over my mouth, and my eyes opened so wide it hurt. Mom sobbed and sniffled for a few moments more. There was a sharp clack as though she put the receiver down for a moment. Then another series of clicking,
plasticky noises when she picked it back up.

"Sorry about that. I really don't mean to put all this on you, dear. Not with you starting that great job of yours over there. I just thought I should let you know. Please call me back when you can, okay? I love you, Jennifer. So does your dad."

I reached out to pick up the phone, to interrupt her before she could hang up, when I remembered that it was just a message. A message hours old. Mom and dad would still be in bed right now, and for at least two hours more.

That robot voice came back on, asking whether I wanted to save the message or not. Numbly, I reached out and hit the button to store it. Though I don't think the fear and despair I heard in my mom's voice could ever leave my waking memory. I'd never heard her sound like that.

$90 dollars per dose, four doses a day? That was thousands of dollars a month! There was no way they could afford that. Not even with insurance, and especially not with also needing a full-time caregiver.

I stayed in the kitchen for a while, my mother's message running through my head over and over. I had to keep fighting the urge to call her back right then.

As it was, I leaned against the counter, its edge digging into my hip, for a good hour at least.

Even the thought of going back to bed, back to Drake's waiting arms, couldn't reduce the awful ball of anxiety inside me by any substantial amount.

I realized then that the amount I'd written the check for was a real pittance, the proverbial drop in the bucket. It would only pay for a few weeks of my dad's medicine.

They needed more money. It all came down to that.

My thoughts went to that balled-up Post-It note in my jacket pocket. Bud had written something there. Something to entice me to stay.

My feet beat my mind to action, walking me to the bedroom before I'd even really thought about it. The note was about money. It had to be. A sort of hush money, I
guessed. Reward for doing as Bud wished.

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