Beautiful Together (30 page)

"Naomi, this is Devin, Chris, and Matthew." The one that had nodded was Matthew.

After he said their names specifically, they seemed a bit more responsive, like the group address hadn't mattered enough to them.

"Hi," I said shyly. "You guys seem super busy."

"It's nice to meet you," Chris said. He was stocky with black hair and thick-framed glasses. "Yeah, we've got some ridiculous deadlines to meet," he added. "We've had to completely re-invent the guts of the app since we got back from London."

"Hi, Naomi, it's a pleasure to meet you," Devin said suddenly, the words spit out like one long run-on sentence. "Do you want a shot of bourbon?" he asked. He lifted the bottle just high enough that I could see it behind his monitor.

I laughed. "No, I'm good for now. But maybe later."

"We'll let you get back to work," Jesse said. "I'll check in with you guys tomorrow."

"Nice to meet you all," I said, waving, but I was sure they didn't see it.

We crept away, down the hall toward the stairs, Jesse leading the way.

The stairs were creaky as we ascended. Some of them were at weird angles, so I had to take each one cautiously.

"This is kind of like a frat house, huh?"

"Yeah, but all we do is code and make presentations and have Skype meetings. And drink while working. Sometimes we don't even see each other for days since we wind up on such weird schedules."

"It must be good to be busy though," I remarked.

"Sometimes."

We walked down the hall past several closed doors and one bathroom before stopping at a door on the right.

"Here we are," he said as he opened the door and flipped on the light. His room was much larger than I had expected, and it had its own attached private bathroom as well. "I pay a hundred-fifty extra per month for the bathroom, but I think it's worth it. You saw how the work area gets—imagine their shared bathroom."

"Ugh," I said, cringing at the thought.

The walls were cream-colored and bare. Everything looked painfully simple. There were no posters on the wall, no trinkets or decorations anywhere. There was a desk with his Macbook Pro and a tiny adjustable light. It was obnoxiously clean, which came as a relief after seeing the dining room in such shambles.

On the far right was a closet with two doors, both of them shut. A simple Ikea-looking dresser stood on the adjacent wall. Other than a tiny picture of Jesse's parents, it was also totally bare.

He pointed. "You can put your coat and backpack on the floor by the dresser."

I nodded and did as he said. "You sure like to keep it simple, huh?"

"I used to like decorating," he said, "but not anymore. It's so much work when you move out. I hate repainting the walls and filling in nail holes and stuff. Plus, I'm not that good at picking things out."

"Well, at least it's clean," I said. "Compared to down there."

"Yeah, this is my refuge from the storm," he said, chuckling. "I come here to hide out. Otherwise, I'm at work." He crawled up and down me with wholly salacious eyes. "Now where were we again?"

I knew what he was talking about, and although I felt the tension in my belly immediately—his eyes looked like the eyes of a very hungry wolf that had finally found prey after starving for months—I wasn't going to give in so easily.

"We were talking about how basic and minimalist your room is. How much you love minimalist art." I grinned at him sardonically, watching as he shut the door and locked it. It was clear what was on his mind.

And although I was initially unsure how I would respond to very intentional, very obvious sex—the last time had been mostly unplanned and spontaneous; this time, we knew
exactly
what was going on—I felt my body craving him, wanting him more than anything in the world.

I was ready too.

"I don't think that's what we were talking about." Jesse swooped toward me and took me in his arms, easing me against the bed. I allowed him to guide me. We settled there, our lips practically glued together as we made out.

His hands parted the strands of my hair, lightly massaging my scalp. I felt the tension expanding down below, the goose bumps spreading along my belly and arms. He crawled down me with his fingers, gripping my butt, tilting my body until our pelvises met.

My breath instantly became more rapid, my heart perfectly synchronized, thudding more and more the lower his hands crawled. He cupped my clothed breasts aggressively, and despite the layer of cloth and the thick material of my bra, I could still feel my nipples hardening.

"Fuck, I really missed you," he said into my ear, low and breathy, so delicate and aggressive that it sent tingles down my spine.

"I missed you too."

We tossed and tumbled in the bed, kissing, grinding, losing our minds together. After that continued for a while, he deftly unbuttoned my jeans and slid his fingers beneath the elastic waistband of my panties, torturously slow, dragging them against the soft fur of my mound.

"Stop playing around," I whined, "and touch me."

He stared back at me with a grin that was pure
sex.
And then, he eased a finger inside me, a finger that glided in easily. By that point, my panties were soaked and I was totally ready for him.

My back arched as he pressed against the walls inside me, his thumb lightly circling on my clit.

"Oh, God," I murmured, overtaken by waves of pure pleasure. It was as if his fingers were reading my mind, sensing every high and low as he touched me. My thighs tightened around his hand, and he responded by sliding a second finger inside me.

My muscles strained at first, but soon after, they were stretching, fitting him perfectly. He slid them in and out, one hand under my back, cradling me as he set me on fire. I started to feel literally hot, and I started wriggling out of my jeans.

"Slow down," I begged.

He eased his fingers out of me, and although I felt empty for a moment, after my panties and jeans were on the floor, his efforts improved dramatically since he wasn't fighting against rigid denim. As the sensation returned, it made me shiver with delight.

Still inside me with one hand, he pulled up my top with the other, and I helped, freeing it and then throwing it on the floor. I undid the clasps of my bra, and then he pulled it from my body.

I looked at him; he was still fully clothed. I put my arm across my breasts, hiding them. "Am I the only one getting naked here?"

He deftly pressed against my g-spot, totally crushing my playful demeanor. I let out a giggle that was a blend of both pleasure and hilarity. "Well, I'm going to have to pull my hand away if you want me to strip."

"Well, hurry up and do it," I hissed. I wanted to feel his bare flesh against mine more than anything. I absolutely couldn't wait any longer.

Jesse pulled his hand away and started rapidly undressing. I almost drooled as I stared at those gorgeous muscles, so toned and perfect, his biceps, pecs, and shoulders so sculpted, yet not bulky. He almost had six-pack abs too.

He revealed his whole self to me, one discarded piece of clothing at a time.

A chill came over me, so I pulled back the comforter and slid under the sheets and blankets. When his clothes were in a pile with mine, he joined me inside the warmth, his hands cupping my breasts, tweaking my nipples and sinking into all of that soft flesh.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered. The blankets were all the way up to our heads.

"And you're fucking hot," I said, my hand settling on his belly and then sliding down to his hardness.

I took him in my grip, tightening, and then lightly stroked back and forth. Pre-cum had beaded on the tip, and I massaged it into the shaft, using it to glide effortlessly. He was so big and thick, and I admired what I felt. It was incredible.

"That feels so good," he murmured, his voice totally overflowing with distraction. I felt the muscles tighten in his body as he pressed his back harder into the bed.

I continued for a few minutes, working him while he nibbled and sucked at my breasts. And then he finally seemed to gain control of himself and got his fingers back where they belonged.

"Oh, God," I moaned, losing my focus immediately. I struggled to keep my hand gliding as he thrust his fingers into me, but my efforts were poor at best. Still, I tried.

We leaned into each other and kissed hard, curling our tongues, hearts beating fast. We shared the same breaths, sending them back and forth, each one better than the one that came before it.

After several minutes of mutual touch—expertly done on his part; pathetic on mine—I started to lose focus. "Okay," I said, opening my eyes. "I need you inside me."

He pulled the blankets back, the light of the room surprising my eyes. "I have condoms if you need me to—"

"No," I said, still greedily clutching his cock. "I need to feel
everything
."

"I fucking love you," he said, his voice almost a hiss. "I've
always
loved you."

And with that, his weight pinned me to the bed and he slid inside of me, my muscles struggling once again to accommodate his size. There was a little pain at first, but he went very slowly, inching forward until he could go no deeper.

"You feel incredible," he remarked.

"So do you," I said, leaning up and kissing him aggressively. I tugged at his hair and kept his face against mine.

As he kissed me back, he started rocking, and I felt the muscles in my face grimace. I felt so full, so perfectly overwhelmed by his size. Soon after, I was moaning almost uncontrollably, my eyes locked closed as he thrust again and again.

Every nerve awoke in my body, so aware of everything I was feeling. I could hear him, taste him, smell him. His musk was totally intoxicating, and it brought out some deeply primal urges. In and out he went, forcing pleasure into me, only easing out so he could give me more.

He held my arms against the bed just as he had before. "You're all mine," he growled softly. "You're fucking perfect. All this time, all I wanted was for you to be mine."

It was exactly what I wanted to be.

I felt my breasts shaking with every powerful thrust, my nipples so hard and sensitive they felt like they were being consistently shocked with tiny currents of electricity. I clutched at his perfect butt, forcing him deeper.

Everything we did was automatic and unrehearsed, yet somehow perfectly executed.

My legs were spread wide, giving him full access to all of me. Back and forth he went, his strength both powerful and delicate. Between thrusts, he would bury his face in the warm swell of my breasts, kissing, licking, tickling the skin.

I
was
all his.

Jesse slowed down at one point. "Roll over on your stomach," he commanded as he pulled out of me. I did as he ordered, my skin flushed red with heat. "God, your ass is incredible," he said, gently peppering it with tiny kisses.

I pressed my face into the pillow and angled my hips upward. He slid into me from behind, filling me yet again. He felt even bigger from that angle. I moaned loudly, but it was muffled.

His full weight holding me down, he began thrusting, pushing my face into the pillow. He put his hands over mine and leaned forward until our heads were aligned, the hot sensation of his breath tickling my ears again.

"You love it when I fuck you like this, don't you?" He punctuated the sentence with an even deeper plunge than ever before. I cried out in ecstasy.

"Yes, don't stop!" I whined.

"You're so fucking naughty," he snarled. He surprised me by spanking my ass, and although it stung, the sensation blended perfectly with everything else. It heightened the experience, sending me to a new headspace.

Jesse started pounding even harder, still controlling me, still owning me. The bed quietly creaked as we rocked back and forth. I felt a sheen of sweat forming on my forehead and between my flattened breasts.

I could feel every ridge, vein, and bump as he slid into me, his cock slightly angled downward, pressing against my g-spot. I couldn't stop moaning, the individual sounds blending until they were nearly continuous.

I felt lust, I felt love, I felt oblivion. What else could there be other than
this
?

He seemed to grow stronger with every thrust, and it overwhelmed my brain with bliss. I had never felt anything like this before, and I knew it wasn't just the circumstances—Jesse was incredible.

"Bring your hips up a bit."

I lifted myself onto my elbows, bringing my butt closer to him. He freed my hands and brought his left hand onto my breast, cupping it, toying with it as I adjusted myself. And then he reached around with his right, and gently circled on that tiny bundle of nerves.

"Oh, God, Jesse," I moaned. "Spank me again," I said, completely surprising even myself. The words felt like I was speaking an unfamiliar foreign language—yet I was also
fluent
.

"You're driving me crazy." He struck me again, not too hard, not too soft, sending that familiar sting rushing across my skin.