Chapter Fourteen

Gen looks torn and uncertain. The passionate and eager woman writhing on my lap moments ago is gone. And I'm a fucking idiot for ruining the mood.

My hands are still planted on her hips, and I consider making them roll on top of me again so we can return to what we were doing and dismiss my stupid question. When she meets my eyes again with her magnificent blue ones, I read all the insecurities and doubts she harbors.

"My boyfriend dumped me the day I made that dating app profile," she carefully starts. "We were together for five years, and he left like it meant nothing."

Well, the man was a fucking moron for letting her go. How blind can someone be to leave such a woman? "So, what? You're trying to get over him? Doing all the things he never tried with you?"

She shakes her head, and I see her throat bob as she swallows hard. To offer her some comfort and distraction, I slip my hands up her thighs—under the smooth fabric of her pretty dress. When she shivers on top of me, I'm glad to see the mood isn't completely gone.

"I—When he left, he told me I sucked in bed, that I was boring," she confesses, looking away before she can finish.

Now I'm getting pissed at the arsehole. Her? Boring? I don't remember having this much fun in my life. Fucking her has been brilliant, way better than a lot of my past experiences. Carefully, I take her chin, which slightly wobbles, between my thumb and index, forcing her to look up.

"Sweetheart, I wouldn't have brought you home if you were boring."

Her eyes widen, but doubt doesn't leave them entirely. "That's because you've been doing all the work. All I do is lie there, or stand, or get on all fours. And you make it all happen."

"Okay, I see the point you're trying to make, red, but I reckon you're still pretty spectacular. You're responsive, vocal, passionate, uninhibited… You give back as much as you can, even if I'm a domineering prick who doesn't leave you much room to do it. You're not bad or boring in bed. Quite the opposite."

Her eyes are glassy, but not a tear spills over, which I take as an encouragement to keep going. "Tell you what, love. Tonight, I'm not doing anything. Tonight, you're the one in charge, the one who does the fucking."

My suggestion does the opposite of what I intended, and she looks even more uncertain, almost panicked. "What if I am boring, and you never want to see me again?"

The notion is so absurd that I can't hold back my laughter. "Red, where do you get these ideas? Can't you see that there's no way I won't thoroughly enjoy whatever you do to me?" I ask, thrusting up so she can feel without a doubt how much I want her.

Her eyelids flutter, her cheeks flushing bright pink. Because it's the most adorable thing I've ever seen, I push her hair back to admire the tips of her ears turning red. Fuck, everything about her is so endearing.

"If-if I'm not doing well, can you… take over? Rather than stay bored, can you take the lead and keep things going?"

Just because I can see how much she needs that safety net, I nod and say, "I promise. But I doubt I'll need to, love."

She doesn't entirely believe me, but it must be enough because she bends over to lay a shy, uncertain kiss on my lips. My hands rise higher under her dress, to the sides of her lacy underwear, and my head tilts to give her better access to me.

The music changes around us, shifting into the album's second track—"Sexy Boy", one of my all-time favorites. When she resumes her grinding against my crotch, I understand she quite likes it too. I'm a little confused when she pulls away to stand before me while I stay slouched on the sofa. Before I can ask what's going on, her hips slowly begin to sway in rhythm with the beats.

Is she going to dance for me? God, I love seeing her in charge even more than I expected.

Her gaze is planted on me as she dances languorously, and when she sends a hand to her waist, where a knot keeps her dress closed, I quirk an inquisitive eyebrow. "Giving me a little show, are we?"

"Number nineteen," she answers, tugging at the blue strap.

Give someone a strip tease.Fuck, that is indeed on the list.

With soft hands and maddening leisure, she unveils more of her body, still undulating in rhythm with Air's song. I'll never be able to hear that record and not get painfully hard. Which is a shame because I listen to it a lot.

When I get a glimpse of the black bra that cradles her beautiful breasts, I fight the urge to impatiently pull her in and ravish her. Especially when she hides it again, like a fucking tease. Finally, she lets the dress hang loosely on her shoulders, revealing her toned stomach, the curve of her hips, the auburn curls visible through her underwear… I'm forced to send a hand to my cock and give my knob a pinch through my jeans. She's way too fucking sexy for this. I'll go bloody mad before the song is over.

She notices the motion, and I see confidence in her freckled features for the first time since she made her confession. Determined to send me to an asylum before the night is over, she lifts her arms above her head and weaves them in the air with sensual gestures, her hips never halting their hypnotizing dance.

Someone recently dumped her. The man must have been as daft as a bag of dicks to let such a goddess go. Were she mine, I'd worship her day and night, relentlessly guarding her like a ferocious dragon and its priceless treasure.

As she turns around, robbing me of the sight of her pebbled nipples under the lingerie, I'm tempted once more to grab her and never let her go. But then she slides the dress off her shoulders, and slowly—frustratingly slowly—she lowers it down, revealing the freckles and beauty spots on her back. Then, God almighty, the perfect shape of her swaying bum.

That's it. Her ex is the dumbest piece of shit that ever roamed this planet.

My hand is over my cock, stroking it through the fabric. When she swings around to face me again, her doubts and uncertainty are entirely gone, replaced by arousal and want. I'm mesmerized when she reaches behind her back to unhook her bra.

Unable to resist any longer, I unfasten my belt. My dick's harder than a rock, painfully aching, and I need some release before I go insane.

"No," she stops me, holding her bra so it doesn't fall off yet.

"Gen, I'm fucking dying here."

"And I'm the one in charge of the teasing for once."

With a grunt, I let go of my zipper and force my hands to rest on the couch instead. It delights her, a massive smile stretching her plump lips. "Payback's a bitch, isn't it?" she asks, letting the strap of her bra fall to the side.

I don't get how she can be this good at it and yet think she's anywhere near boring. Not when she's the most mesmerizing creature I've ever seen.

As if confirming my thoughts, she reveals one breast, then the other, and flings the damned thing at me, right on my gawking face. I grab it, enjoying its warmth, and bunch the fabric together before inhaling her scent, my gaze never veering from her perfect tits. They swing gently with her undulations, their rosy tips erect and small, begging for my lips to wrap around them.

"Enough with this, red."

"Oh, so you can dish it, but you can't take it?"

My restraint finally breaks when she grabs them and pushes them together. I lunge forward before she can see it coming and clasp her behind the thighs. Her squeal turns into a helpless laugh when I haul her onto me, back into her original straddling position.

Like a starving man, I swallow her giggles, sending a bold tongue into her. Her amusement fades in seconds, subjugated by my wandering hands. When I palm the roundness of her breasts and pinch their tips, she lets out a loud, greedy moan.

"Take me to your bed," she begs, arms wrapping around my neck.

I oblige, lifting myself and her from the couch. We never halt our kiss, entranced by one another as I make my way through the loft to reach my bed. So I'm not tempted to take over, I let myself fall back rather than topple onto her. That leaves her on top of me, almost naked while I only have my belt undone.

It seems she wants to even the field too, because she grabs the hem of my T-shirt to pull it up. In seconds and while barely interrupting our kiss, she undresses me down to my boxer briefs, her sweet little cunt pressed onto me with only our underwear shielding the contact.

"You're so fucking hot," I groan, filling my hands with her arse and tugging her closer.

"Aren't you bored yet?"

I didn't think I could laugh in such an abandoned state of arousal, so the genuine laughter that rips out of me surprises me as much as it does her. "Red, I could do this and only this for the rest of my life, and I'd never get bored."

Her delighted smile goes straight to my balls, taking a detour past my chest first, making it tighten.

"I think you inspire me," she says, kissing my chest. Helpless, I lie there, panting, while she explores my tattoos, her clever little tongue slick against my skin. "Which one's your favorite, Jake?"

"It's the—Fuck!" My answer is lost when she nips at the piercing in my nipple, pulling on it enough to make it ache deliciously. "It's the one on my hip."

Like she's about to uncover one of humanity's biggest secrets, she excitedly wriggles down to slip her hands under the elastic band of my boxers and tugs on it. I lift myself just enough to help her, and my cock springs free, wet with precum and so hard that my tip is a worrying shade of red. Fucking hell.

Her eyes linger on my erection first, but then she seeks which tattoo I meant. I can't hold back the way my frame trembles when her delicate fingers graze over the geisha on my side, which spans from the middle of my thigh to under the V dip at my hip.

"She's beautiful," Gen says with appreciation. "The details are amazing. Did you do it?"

I shake my head. "My body is a limited canvas, and I'd rather leave as much room as possible for other artists to leave their mark on it."

"So all of these were done by different people?"

"Yes. Friends, colleagues, and important figures of the craft. The geisha is from Haruki Tanaka, the first person who believed in me."

She nods distractedly, the tortuous tips of her fingers exploring more of the inky drawings on me. A pearly laugh bubbles out of her when she finds the terrible one I have on the inside of my bicep. "What's this one?"

I look down at it, holding back a grimace. "This one is the reason why Eli isn't allowed within three feet of a tattoo gun."

Her amusement doesn't fade as she examines the terribly drawn dick Elijah inked there with a trembling hand. The wanker even added strings of jizz at the tip and hairs on the balls. "Did you ever get revenge for it?"

"No. The coward is scared of needles, so he refuses to let anyone tattoo him."

"Hmm…"

When she resumes her exploration, I decide I've had enough of this. "Gen, I'm going to need you to put a pin in this and get on with the fucking. I'm in actual pain right now."

Her attention shifts from my arm to my third leg, which is hard and throbbing against my lower abdomen, reaching all the way to my navel. "It does look painful," she notes, not looking sorry at all for my suffering.

"Are you going to do something about it?"

She sends a tentative hand to my cock and wraps her fingers around it, lifting it off my stomach. Way too softly, she runs her fist up and down the length a couple of times and then settles her thumb over the wet tip, spreading the translucent drop that seeps out of it. "Do you find the piercings worth it?" she wonders, toying with the big one in the head.

"Well, I'd go through it again a hundred times just to hear the way you scream my name when you come, so I suppose I do."

Her cheekbones turn pink again, and my cock twitches in her soft hold. Fuck, I need to be inside her right now. "Condoms are in the nightstand," I tell her, gesturing toward it.

She releases me, and I don't know if it's mindless or if she intended it, but I stare as she slips the glistening tip of her thumb in her mouth, sampling me as she makes her way to the drawer.

Then, she lets out an appreciative "hmm" and my cock twitches so hard it does a little jump off my stomach.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

When she returns with a silvery packet, I help her out of her lacy knickers and assist her when she comes back to straddle me. She's confident enough in how she handles the condom, but she pauses when the time comes to roll it down on me. The piercings are a bit tricky, so I understand her hesitation.

"Do you want me to show you?" I offer.

"I've seen you do it before, so I think I can manage. Can I try first, and we get another one if I fail?"

It's like she was made to unearth some protective and devoted parts of me I buried deep down ages ago. "Anything you want, red."

She looks very focused as she handles the condom, and just to give her a hand, I grab my cock at the base to hold it up for her. She thanks me with a quick grin and slips four fingertips inside the condom to stretch it as she pulls it down—exactly like I do. In no time, I'm sheathed and ready to go, and she looks way too proud to resist the urgent kiss she gives me.

Her small hand slips between us, and when she aligns herself with me, I stop her with my grip on her hips. "Wait, you're not quite ready for me, red."

"But I want you," she whimpers.

"You'll have me. Just—do this for a moment," I encourage, making her slide her hips back and forth so her damp folds glide along the underside of me.

"Oh…"

Her surprised breath doesn't help with my restraint, so I clench my teeth and hope for the best. I can't fucking ejaculate prematurely again, or she'll start believing I'm a two-pump chump. With her hands resting flat over my chest, she sways her body in rhythm with the music still running, her lips parted with soft pants, her eyes sparkling with lust.

"That's it, love. Get wet and ready for me."

"Jake, you feel so good," she moans.

So does she. But I bet the ribbed underside of me and the piercings feel fantastic on her. Her tempo slowly increases, disassociating with the music, as do the moans and sighs that she lets out. And I can hear the moist sounds we make where we rub together. I'm tempted to let her come like this first, but then I'll be at a great disadvantage, nearing my release while she'd have to climb to another climax.

"Now, red. Put me inside you now."

She doesn't need to be told twice, rising from me and angling my cock with her slick entrance. My hands are holding on to her tightly as she lowers, so fucking slowly that I nearly lose it. I'm not in control of anything when my hips jolt up, making my dick disappear entirely into her tight pussy.

Her scream, half pleasure and half surprise, and the way her walls clamp down on me have me cursing and instantly releasing her. "Fuck, I'm sorry. You're in charge; you're in control," I promise, entwining my fingers and laying my hands under my head so I'm not tempted to do anything more.

"It's fine, you're just… big," she says, gently rocking her hips.

The soft touch of her palms returns to my chest as she leans onto me, and I admire how her tits dangle with her movements. It's like a spectacle, an exclusive performance—one I'd give my left ball to see every fucking night.

A show that's at risk of ending way too early.

It takes her a few attempts, but she eventually figures out how to make my entire cock disappear inside her. Now, every time she sinks onto me, she gives a little sway with her hips to make the seventh piercing slip inside.

"You like this, red?" I ask, hoping I can make her topple fast. "You like fucking me?"

Her strangled "Yes," is like ambrosia.

"You're doing it so well. Look at how much of me you take." We both gaze between us, where my cock goes in and out of her, sopping wet with her juices. "Do you know how good you feel, love? Has anyone ever told you how wet, tight, and warm you are?"

"Aah, Jake!"

The measured pace of her hips increases, her body jolting involuntarily. I feel a spasm around me, the promise of her looming orgasm. All I have to do is ride through it, and then I should last until the next one. In the meantime, I must do my best to ignore how incredible she feels and discard her breasts swinging right above me, the lustful expression on her face, the sounds she makes…

"A man could sell his soul for such a perfect cunt. You know that, right?"

That rips another moan out of her, and she quivers inside and out. When she closes her eyes to experience it all better, I feel robbed. Sensing she's close, I remove a hand from under my head and send it between us, rolling the tip of my thumb over her swollen clit. "Look at me," I order. She obeys, wanton and heated. "That prick was so fucking wrong, Gen. You couldn't be boring even if you tried."

Just like that, she shatters, moaning my name with an abandoned whimper that makes it hard not to follow her. Her pussy contracts around me, her hands clenching over my chest, the rolls of her hips desperate and uncoordinated. I hold her through it in a bruising grasp, forcing her down on me so I'm not too overwhelmed.

"Fuck," I mutter through clenched teeth, trying to think of anything that isn't her.

She writhes and grinds, lost in her own version of heaven while I'm fighting like a devil not to join her. Eventually, when her pleasure slowly recedes, I feel prouder than if I'd won a gold medal in the Olympics. That shit was more challenging than running a bloody marathon.

With my cock still deep inside her, she leans back, her chest heaving as she tries to recuperate. Her entire body is flushed, covered in a thin veil of perspiration, and I want to scold myself for not letting her be on top sooner. She's the most beautiful thing I've ever laid my eyes on. And as an artist, I've seen a lot of beauty in this world.

"Jesus fucking Christ, red," I whimper, thankful for the intermission.

"Was that okay?"

"Okay? Genevieve, it was far beyond okay."

A small smile spreads on her lips, which contradicts the way her brows frown. When she rolls her hips, testing me inside her, I understand why. "Then why didn't you come?"

"Because I want to make it last, red. I can't orgasm the entire night like you do, so I have to pace myself."

She pouts, tempting me with the fullness of her lips. "You know, you don't have to make me orgasm all night. We could be more reasonable."

I chuckle, and her eyes flutter—probably because that feels great inside her. "With you, reason goes out the window. All I want is to feel your cunt come over and over around my cock."

"It's a good thing you're great at making it happen, then."

She bends over, answering my earlier thought, and steals my breath with a longing kiss. We're still in the middle of it when she resumes her writhing, and I move in unison with her, thrusting upward.

My hands explore her body with greed, filling up with every part of her I can reach. I wish I had more so I could appreciate it all at once, playing with her nipples, fondling her arse, and guiding her hips simultaneously.

"Do you trust me, love?" I rasp into her ear, giving her a rougher shove and groping the roundness of her behind.

"Yes."

With the tip of my index, I graze the plumpness of her lower lip, following its outline before I push my finger in. Although the gesture surprises her at first, she quickly adjusts and sucks it in, her cheeks hollowed while her tongue swirls and licks. Because I can't help myself, I thrust it in and out, mirroring what's going on between us. She almost looks disappointed when I pull my spit-coated finger out of her mouth, so, I distract her by cupping her breast. When my glistening index presses against her tight hole, she lets out a strangled protest.

"It won't hurt, sweetheart," I promise.

With her hands on each side of me, she pushes herself up enough to meet my eyes. I'd never force her to do something she doesn't want, but I know she's curious about this, desirous to know what it feels like. The wet fingertip is drawing small circles around that part of her, nudging but never taking the leap. Not without her explicit consent. When I run it across the hole, I notice how her pupils expand.

"Do it," she whispers, eyes locked on mine.

"You're sure?"

"Yes. Do it, Jake."

"Use more words. Express formal consent, Miss Kensington."

Her glare tells me what she thinks of my teasing, but I don't flinch. "Put your finger inside me, Jacob," she demands.

"Where?"

"In my—Jake, seriously. You know where."

"Ask properly, and I'll do it, Genevieve."

I might believe she's displeased, but I can feel how much this makes her spasm around me. She likes it when I defy her by pushing her buttons and limits.

"I, Genevieve Charlotte Kensington, formerly consent and demand that you, Jacob Daniel Clarke, insert your finger in my rectum."

I chuckle, not expecting this formal approach. "You know exactly how to talk dirty to me, red."

"You're at fault here. Now, get on with it."

She's perfectly still, but I have enough room to initiate a small momentum between us. So I do that, fucking her gently, and then settle my finger right where she wants me.

The moment my knuckle sinks in, she releases a heavy, trembling breath. "Relax, red. It won't hurt if you let it in."

As soon as the tight muscle loosens around my finger, I push it further in, making another knuckle disappear into her, my cock never halting the soft momentum from underneath. "You like that?" I ask, pumping it in and out of her.

She reflects on the question for a moment, but the way her body reacts by lowering to take my whole finger inside her is response enough. "I do," she admits, nevertheless. "It feels unique and—Aah! It feels good."

Her arsehole is still tight around the digit, so I don't attempt to add another one. Not even when she resumes the fucking, rolling her hips in a manner that drives me mad, taking my finger and my cock all the way in each time.

"That's it, baby. You're such a good girl. So responsive, so naughty."

We fuck like this for several minutes, and I think I'm doing good, holding back while she climbs to her next climax until she moans, "I want more," right into my ear.

Fuck.

"You want another one?"

She nods. "Please, don't make me beg for it."

I pull my index out of her and run it across her inner thigh where she's slick with wetness, along with my middle finger. Once they are lubricated enough, I press their tips back onto her arsehole. "Push," I instruct, doing the same on my side.

Both fingers carefully sink into her, into the hot and willing channel, and she cries out my name, shaking over me. Her face is red, her hair is a mess, her eyes are glassy, her lips are swollen… Everything about her is the sexiest thing I've ever seen. I barely have time to fuck her with them when the first spasm of her pussy starts. Her other hole clenches so tightly that I struggle to keep pumping my fingers into her. She holds onto me, moaning and crying, her mouth filled with my name and other supplications. I'm so unprepared for her orgasm that I fall victim to it, cum jetting out of me while she buckles and grinds, fucking my cock and hand with desperate intensity.

We're so tightly wound together as we come that I can't tell where I end and where she starts. At this point, we're nothing more than a mass of shaking limbs, lost in complete abandon as the skies open to welcome us. Or I reckon they open because I swear I can see fucking stars lined up behind my tightly shut eyelids.

I have no idea how long this lasts, but by the time I regain my senses, the record is over, and our hectic breathing is the only thing filling the silence. She's sprawled over me, and I wish this could become the rest of our lives. Tightly woven together, basking in post-nut bliss, swimming in immaculate euphoria.

This woman is something else. She's… I don't even know. A revelation? God-sent? The best lay of my fucking life?

And she thought she was boring? How the hell did she get it so wrong?

"Wow," she breathes out, clearly as spent as I am. "That was—"

"Fucking incredible. I know."

Still sticking to me like a second skin, she twists her head to look at me, and I gaze down to meet her glassy eyes. "You enjoyed it?" she asks.

"Are you kidding? I think that was the best sex of my life."

Something in the way I say it finally breaks through her insecurities. Her face lights up, her mouth stretching into the brightest smile, and I feel her elation echo under my ribs.

After she gives me a small but intense kiss, she lies down, flush against me while my dick softens inside her.

"Oh, I almost forgot," she starts with a small voice. "The contract we signed is coming to an end. So, I drafted a new one with all the other things. I'll need to make edits to add anal play and penetration."

"Really?"

"Yes. We'll go slow, though."

"Of course."

A few beats pass, and I feel like she's got more to say, so I wait for it. "Also, I created an addendum."

"For what?"

When she looks up at me, I meet her eyes again. "You're not obligated to sign it at all, it's just a thought I had."

"About?"

"Well, I—You're going to be the only one helping me with the list, and I thought that maybe…"

Since I have no idea what she's getting at, I can't even help her spill it out. "Go on, red."

"It demands a little more commitment, but I promise it's not like we'd be something serious. It's just that one item on that list requires… well, it requires that we don't use a condom."

Just like that, my dick begins to swell again, still planted into her warmth. For fuck's sake, it hasn't even gone entirely soft yet. "You want me to fuck you raw?"

"Uh, yes. I want to know what you feel like without protection. And I'm not sure how else we'd do the cum play thing otherwise. It means we'd get tested again. And ideally, we'd only sleep with one another during the length of our arrangement. Which is why you're not obligated to sign. You told me you weren't the monogamous type, so we can keep doing things this way."

She stays silent while I come to terms with the idea, my fingers drawing random spirals and curves on her sweaty back. Right now, I can't imagine fucking another woman. Not after the fantastic sex we just had. And the few times I've tried lately, I wasn't able to get it started, much less bring it to completion. So it's not like the exclusivity thing would be a problem. And really, the pleasure of getting to fuck her without a condom would overpower my usual reticence. I haven't been in a monogamous relationship for nearly a decade now, so I haven't fucked without a rubber for almost that long.

"I'm game if you are," I decide.

"For real?"

"Yeah. I'll get tested soon. But I'll need to see you more. It'll have to be twice a week, at the very least."

"I suppose I can skip Pilates on Tuesday evenings. Would that work?"

"Yeah. But don't worry, we'll find fun ways to exercise and make up for it."

I can feel the smile on her lips when she kisses my torso before wriggling even closer until there isn't a lick of space left between us.

Shit, I'm almost ready to go again. The things this woman does to me are uncanny.

"When's your brunch tomorrow?" I ask.

She sighs, "Eleven-thirty."

"Hmm…" With a mighty shove of my hips, I make us roll over, pulling out of her once she's lying on her back to change the condom. "We better get on with it, then."

"I guess we should."

Before I can do anything, she pulls me in for a long, deep, and thorough kiss. Seconds into it, I'm already high on her taste, feeling like I'll never get enough of it.

Yes, fucking only her for the next few weeks or months won't be an issue.

What comes after that might become a problem.