Shattered: (18 page)

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Authors: Janet Nissenson

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“Ah, God.”
She clutched his head desperately, her pelvis thrusting frantically in sync with the hungry, ravenous motions of his lips and tongue. He thrust two long fingers as deep inside of her as he could reach, and she came instantly, convulsing around his hand uncontrollably.
Her legs were unsteady, shaking in the high heels, and she was afraid they would give out from under her at any moment. But Nick either didn’t notice or didn’t care, because he kept at her, this time thrusting his tongue up inside her body, his thumbs spreading the lips of her inner labia apart so he could go even deeper. The second orgasm felt twice as strong as the first, and if she hadn’t been clutching handfuls of his hair like her life depended on it she would have certainly collapsed this time. She kept her eyes tightly shut, afraid she might faint otherwise from the waves of pleasure that continued to quiver through her body.
Nick took her hands in his, removing them gently from his hair. “Another minute there, Angel, and I think you would have pulled a few hunks out by the roots.” His voice sounded both amused and awed as he stood, pulling her into his arms.
She flushed, her cheeks as hot as the rest of her highly stimulated flesh. “Sorry,” she mumbled, burying her face against his neck as she clung to him. “I thought – I was afraid -”
“I’ve got you, Angel. I won’t let you fall. And,” he added huskily, “I was right at the restaurant, you know. You taste sweeter than any dessert in the world. See for yourself.”
He kissed her long and hard, his big, hard body pressing hers into the wall, the huge, intimidating swell of his erection rubbing against her naked vulva. The musky sweet taste of her feminine juices was all over his lips and tongue, and she groaned beneath the bruising pressure of his kiss.
She gasped as he unexpectedly hoisted her over his shoulder and carried her the short distance to her bed where he dumped her onto the mattress with very little finesse. He didn’t waste even a minute as he pulled the dress up and over her head, baring her body to his hot gaze.
“Even more beautiful than I remembered,” he rasped as he began to undress. He took a handful of condoms from his pants pocket and left them on her bedside table. “I need to keep a box of these here. Maybe a few of them.”
Angela’s eyes widened as he finished stripping, his ripped, muscular body proudly naked, his cock appearing even bigger and more terrifying than it had the other night. She moistened her lips, her mouth falling open in anticipation.
“Later,” he told her as he rolled a condom on. “In fact, I’m going to spend a real long time tonight teaching you how to blow me the way I like it. But for now, this is what I want, Angel. What I’ve wanted since the first time I saw you.”
One by one he lifted her legs up and over his shoulders, her feet still shod in the towering white stilettos.
“Lock your ankles around my neck and keep them there,” he ordered. “Don’t move them unless I tell you to.”
She could only nod, her eyes huge and her body tense as Nick slid his hands beneath her ass, angling her to his desired position.
“Easy, Angel,” he soothed. “Just relax and let me in. Nice and easy now.”
He took hold of his penis and began to guide it inside of her with almost maddening slowness. Still, she couldn’t contain the little gasps that escaped her throat with each gradual, careful thrust, as he filled her a little more each time.
And when he was somehow – miraculously – fully sheathed, every long, throbbing inch of his cock buried inside of her – she stared up at him in wonder.
“God, that’s so –” she breathed.
“Good. So fucking, incredibly good,” he hissed. “I knew you’d be able to take me this deep, Angel, knew you’d be a perfect fit for me.”
“Ohh, ohh.” She moaned long and low as he began to increase the tempo of his thrusts, as he lifted her lower body even higher off the bed. Her moans became pants that swiftly became screams as he slammed into her with increasing boldness, the heavy weight of his balls slapping against her buttocks.
“That’s it, Angel,” he crooned. “That’s what I want. Scream for me, let me hear how much I make you feel. Come and get fucked, baby, yeah, just like that.”
Angela clutched the bedcovers desperately as he fucked her almost brutally, the broad head of his cock butting up repeatedly against the very tip of her womb, making her wonder wildly if it was possible for him to literally rip her apart. She grew dizzy, even with her eyes tightly shut, and her breathing grew more and more shallow as she frantically struggled for air.
“Open your eyes, Angel. Watch me.”
Her eyes flew open at the commanding tone of his voice, already so deeply under his spell that she couldn’t even begin to fight it off. His dark eyes were like a burning thing, scorching her with their intensity, and his skin was darkly flushed beneath his tan. They were the only signs that he was beginning to lose control, that he was every bit as swept away by their shared passion as she was.
And it was this realization – that she could make him feel as much as she did – that brought her over the edge, that triggered the spasms that racked her lower body as she came and came and came.
“That’s it, baby. I love feeling that tight, juicy cunt of yours squeezing my cock, love feeling you come around me so hard. Yes, just like that, that’s my girl.”
With the added stimulation of his dirty talk, Angela not only plummeted over the edge but kept falling and falling, falling so far down that she feared she’d never stop, or that the tremors that racked her body would keep on going until she passed out – or died – from the pleasure.
And she knew then, even as Nick was finding his own release, his head thrown back as he shouted his pleasure, that while she’d been falling into bliss she’d also been falling in love at the exact same time. The realization filled her with mingled joy and terror – joy because she’d never, ever come close to feeling this way before, and terror because she’d already broken one of the most important rules she’d promised to obey. She was grateful that she had just enough presence of mind to keep her emotions bottled up, and that instead of whispering her true feelings the only words that escaped her lips were, “That – that was incredible, Nick.”
He nuzzled his face into the side of her neck, his body still joined with hers, both of them hot and sweaty from their primal mating. “That it was, Angel,” he whispered back. “And that was just the warm-up.”
She winced as he slowly withdrew, his cock still semi-hard. “I, ah, might need a little while to recover. You, um, sort of have this way of overwhelming a girl.”
Nick grinned and dropped a quick kiss on her lips. “No problem, Angel. Because while you’re recovering, I’ve got another way to keep you busy. Wait here a minute.”
He disappeared briefly into the bathroom to dispose of the condom and clean himself up before re-emerging with a dampened towel. As he sat down on the bed beside her, she couldn’t resist running her hands up and down his arms and shoulders, across his chest, marveling at how hot his skin was, how hard his muscles were.
“God, you’re a beautiful man,” she murmured in awe. “Is it all right for me to, well, touch you? I know you said that you always like to be in charge but -”
He captured one of her hands in his, but rather than pull it away he merely stroked it further down his chest to the chiseled planes of his abdomen. “It’s more than all right, Angel,” he rasped. “You can touch me as much as you want. I might like to control what position we’re in, but the only times you can’t touch me will be when I decide to bind you. Here, let me.”
He’d rinsed the washcloth in hot water, and the heat felt blissful and soothing as he gently sponged her off. Nick tossed the cloth to the side as he laid back against the pillows.
“Come here,” he beckoned. “Time for your lessons to commence.”
And his teachings were extremely detailed, his particular preferences very carefully imparted, as he told her exactly how he liked to have his cock sucked. She was in awe at the control he could exert over his body, even after she’d been sucking, licking, stroking him for nearly an hour. He was hard as marble, his erection long and thick and throbbing, the broad head so dark a red it almost looked purple. At his hoarsely muttered instructions, she learned how to relax her throat enough to take almost all of him inside her mouth without gagging; to run her tongue up and down the length of him, sometimes slowly, other times with rapid flicks; how to draw just the tip between her lips and then thrust her tongue into the slit. At one point he took her hand in his, bringing it to his hugely swollen balls, and taught her precisely how to fondle them, what the right amount of pressure to apply was. His hand covered hers as she stroked him from tip to root, showing her the motion until she learned it to his satisfaction.
And then his iron control finally shattered, as his breathing became unsteady and his lower body began to buck up off the bed with each pull of her lips or stroke of her hand.
“Finish me off now, Angel,” he commanded hoarsely. “Take me inside that sexy mouth and show me everything you’ve learned tonight.”
Eager to please him, to prove what an apt pupil she was, she did exactly as he bid, her mouth and jaw working frantically as she bobbed her head up and down along his cock. Nick’s hands grabbed fistfuls of her long hair, pulling on it painfully as she continued to focus diligently on pleasuring him, on bringing him over the edge. She lost herself in her efforts, using her hands, lips, tongue, mouth to coax him into orgasm, the blood roaring in her ears as she focused entirely on giving him pleasure. She barely heard the short, guttural curse he uttered before his hands clamped down firmly, holding her head in place as he emptied himself into her mouth, flooding her with hot, sticky bursts of cum, far more than she could swallow at once. Nick gave one final shudder, one last bellow as he finished, his torso flopping back limply onto the bed.
Still focused on pleasing him, she licked him up and down like a little cat, cleaning away every last bit of semen from his body, until his grasped her chin, tilting it up to meet his gaze.
“Enough, Angel,” he said firmly. “I think you’ve sucked – and licked – me completely dry. Now, come here.”
He hauled her up alongside him, wrapping her up close against his body, and she gloried in the feel of his hot, damp skin next to her. He kissed her then, a long, deep kiss, his tongue tasting the saltiness of his cum that still lingered in her mouth, much as she’d tasted her own musky essence against his lips earlier.
Nick’s hand caressed her from shoulder to hip and back up the side of her ribcage until he reached her breast. As he pinched a nipple, he whispered to her wickedly, “You’re an excellent pupil, Angel. You learned that particular lesson very quickly and very thoroughly. But that was just the beginning of what I’m going to teach you. So pay attention, now, because your next lesson is about to begin.”
“And what exactly would this be?”
Angela heaved a sigh as she turned yet again to face Nick. He’d been ruthlessly plundering her admittedly sparse wardrobe and tossing aside just about everything he’d found, from her favorite baggy sweatpants with holes in both knees and paint stains splattered in a haphazard pattern, to a pair of navy slip-on shoes that he’d declared were ugly as a troll’s ass, to the plain white cotton underwear that he’d just shook his head at in silent disgust before tossing it onto the ever growing discard pile.
She recoiled in a panic when she spied the white T-shirt in his hands. “Hey, no, not that! That’s my lucky shirt.”
He grimaced as he noticed the ripped neckline, half a dozen holes, and a stain that looked suspiciously like pizza sauce or ketchup. “I don’t know what kind of luck you think it brought you, but I can tell you one place you sure as hell didn’t get lucky when you wore it.”
She made a face at him and tried futilely to snatch the shirt away. “Please, Nick. My – my dad bought me that when I signed my letter of intent to Stanford. It was the only acknowledgment I ever got that anyone in my family was proud of me for getting in.”
The white shirt had the Stanford name and emblem emblazoned in red on the front and looked not only well used but well loved. Nick studied it a moment longer before reluctantly handing to back.
“Well, it’s probably a hell of a lot more than my father gave me when I signed on, so keep it. As long as you never wear it in my presence,” he warned.
She gave him a cheeky grin and took the shirt from his outstretched fingers. “I promise I’ll only wear it on laundry days, or when I’m scrubbing the floor.”
Nick glared. “It looks like something you’d scrub the floor
with
.”
She folded it away in the back of a dresser drawer. “I’d wear that shirt during warm-ups before every collegiate volleyball game. And if I started the game we never lost. That’s why it’s my lucky shirt. Didn’t you have any sort of good luck charms you wore before or during a game? Or at least a routine you stuck to, some sort of superstition?”
He shook his head as he continued to rifle through her clothes. “My routine, as you call it, was to show up on time, always prepared, and then go and hit people as hard as I could. If you train hard enough, prepare the right way, you don’t need good luck charms or superstition or routines. Just skill and dedication. Now, looks like you’ve got quite a pile of stuff to donate, Angel. Though I’m really not sure some of it is even thrift shop material. More like rag bag material.”

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