I Love My Healed Heart: 4 Book Box Set/Omnibus (Erotic Romance) (2 page)

It’s so
sweet and unexpected that my walls come tumbling down from my heart. I stare
back at him, vulnerable, hurting. I say nothing. He kisses me gently, pulls
back again, looking for my answer. His eyes… it’s like they understand me, like
they
know
me. I see little specks of
gold, I’m so close to him. The core of his manhood calls to me, but the
domesticated beast is waiting for permission. I don’t know why, but this melts
me. If I were to say I don’t want this, I can’t, I’m just acting out against
pain and hurt and betrayal – I know he would leave, and would not make me
feel badly about my choice.

Tears
hover in my eyes and I nod, tell him yes, I want this. I want this so badly. I
give him complete and total permission to do with me as he will. His eyes
search mine deeper, asking
are you sure
?
I nod one short nod and press the back of my head into his palm, tilt it back,
expose my neck, let my lips fall open slightly as I say one quiet little word,
the word my soul
has
to say.

“Please.”

 
Something inside him opens and unlocks. I
can see it in his eyes. He’s more animal than man now. He’s hungry for me… he
won’t ask again. Good. I don’t want him to. I’ll cry if he does. I know it.
Please just make this anger go away
. Like
he heard my thoughts, he kisses me hard, takes both my hands and brings them
above my head, presses his body firmly against mine, warming me, as he pushes
me up against the wall. It hurts a little, but I don’t care. It’s better than
the pain I’ve been feeling since that night my heart was shattered. I don’t
want to feel anything except the ravenous desire for this handsome stranger’s
touch.

His mouth
blends into me as we explore each other. I moan and he presses his jeans
against my pelvis and with a sculpting movement of his hips, commands my legs
to yield to him. His mouth moves down my neck, his teeth nibble and grab me,
the hot breath and moistness making a delicious path to my breasts. He reaches
around and unleashes me from my bra with a single snap.
 
Oh my…

Freed, my
breasts beckon to him, my nipples hard and inviting. He smiles and leans down, takes
the left one in his mouth, tonguing it, teasing it, sucking on it, combining
pleasure and pain, his teeth helping when they need to. I moan as he moves to
the jealous breast on my right. I feel freed, too, as he makes his way down and
devours my body, his lips on my skin, everywhere.

He
unbuckles his belt, unzips his pants, leaves the fly hanging open after he let
go of my hands with a command in his eyes telling me to keep them above my
head. I’m so wet that my panties are drenched, and I know I smell good. I’ve
been told that by enough of my boyfriends to know that he is in for a treat.
Please touch me. Please, please,
please
kiss me down there.

He
understands what I yearn for because he’s
a
man
. Men want to lick us. David never wanted to. And David is a monster.
Stop, Jess. Let go! On his knees, this six foot and then some, stranger, has to
bend to pull my panties aside. As he does, he slides his hand in the slit
between the lips of my pussy. I cry out at the touch of his thick, roughened by
life fingers, and let out a sound I’ve never made before. Then he almost makes
me pass out because kneeling right there, in front of the place on my body that
I hold dearest to my heart, he brings his mouth in and kisses me, sticks his
tongue in, separating me with his hands. I bend to help him, open myself to him
as he licks me, my clit, my lips, my inner thighs. I feel it in the crown of my
head and the bottom of my feet. Goosebumps explode up and down my skin,
everywhere.

He rises,
slides off his jeans and unleashes the most beautiful cock I have ever seen. He
reaches back
 
over the top of his
shoulders like guys do, and pulls his shirt off over his head, from the back to
the front, messing up his hair. He gives it a shake and it falls back to place,
a couple chunks sexy and tousled. I love it when they do that. He steps back to
let me look as he stands naked in front of me. He wants to see my reaction.
Wearing only my panties, hands still above my head, my back resting against the
wall, I look at him. I am breathless. His chest is incredible, sculpted,
strong, and muscular. His legs are defined and perfectly shaped. His calf
muscles are beautiful and his skin has a nice light olive tone. He has those
lines that lead down to his cock like an arrow showing you where the gold is.

And gold
it is; long, thick and the perfect shade of loaded crimson…so beautiful that I
cannot help myself – I lower my arms, reach out and touch it. He doesn’t
stop me. The glance he gives me is thankful, awakened; begs me to touch him. I
feel that I make him just as hot as he makes me. I wrap one hand around the
base, really low and deep so that I feel the top of his sack against one side
of my thumb as I squeeze tight. My other hand I use to stroke him, make him
submit to
me
now.

He sways
under my firm caresses, his eyes closed as body falls forward, helplessly
giving in to me. I’m good at this, I’ve been told. The secret is in imagining
you can feel what they’re feeling. When you do that, somehow you can. Letting
go of my mind, I click in with his essence, slowing then quickening my speed,
one hand always tight at the base, teasing him the way
I
like to be teased. Men move so fast sometimes, they don’t know
that they
like
to wait for it. Every
time a man has tried to hurry me, I make him wait, and then later he tells me
that I gave him the biggest orgasm of his life. That’s right boys - stop being
so impatient. Let a girl do her thing.

He’s like
a warm and silky steel pole in my hands. We are chest to chest, skin to skin,
his mouth an inch from mine so that I can feel his breath as I slide my hand up
and down his bulging shaft, so engorged I cannot believe it. I don’t think I’ve
ever felt a man this hard. He doesn’t want to cum yet, so he stops me. He needs
and wants more than this. So do I. He removes my hands, his expression hungry
as he pins them above my head with a look that says I’ve been a bad girl and
must be punished. I smile. A thick strong hand holds my hostage, my back
arched, my head thrown back, my breasts thrust forward toward him, shamelessly,
my mouth slightly open, my breathing heavy. All I want is for him to be inside
me. Now!

I push my
hips toward him, reach for him, my sex still covered in pink silk; albeit askew
from his handiwork. With his free hand, he reaches inside the front of my
panties and with his middle finger, parts me easily, finds I am still a puddle
of desire.

I bend my
legs a bit to help him pull off my panties, let them fall around my ankles
where I kick them off impatiently. Take me, dammit, right here, right now.
Stick your beautiful cock deep inside me. Make the whole world disappear
forever.

 
This stranger who I’ve never seen before
smiles a naughty smile at me, grabs onto my left thigh, pulls it open and
without the aiding of his hands, curls his hips forward and up, pressing that
amazing cock into me, filling me completely, engulfing the entire length of himself
into my sopping wet pussy. Every cell in my body alights as he fucks me.
Electric pulses hammer throughout my cells, as he drills into me once, twice,
three times and then I stop counting like an idiot. I am in the hands of a true
artist. He pushes deeper and holds it, our skin connected everywhere like we
are one person as he takes my mouth in his and grinds. We kiss as he slowly
temps me to cum with the firm rhythmic thrusts. It’s so good that he knows to
tease and tortures. I know I’ll cum. He pulls out to the point just before the
tip comes out and then he slides it back in until we are hip to hip, chest to
breasts, tongue to tongue. He releases my hands and they fall around his
shoulders. I grip on, weak and tingling, holding onto to his strength as I ride
him.
 

One arm
wraps around me to protect my back from the wall as we rock together, my leg
wrapped around his ass, my body rising and falling on his shaft, our breathing quickening
as he buries his face in my neck, kissing me hard, his cock pounding me harder.
Bam. Bam.

I feel
the building of my orgasm. We moan together. The burning deep within me begins
to break free. I whimper helplessly in his ear, breaking my own rule of
silence. “Oh. Oh God. I can’t take it, fuck me harder. Please don’t stop. I’m
cumming. Oh my God, keep going. Yes. Yes. I’m cumming. You feel so good!” The
heat explodes between my legs. It’s the wildest combination of insatiable
longing and satisfaction all at once. Deep regions of me contract in pounding
bursts of the most gorgeous release.

I scream.
Everything I want is here, right now. He holds off as long as he can and then
he pulls out and strokes himself, shooting his juices hot across my stomach. I
massage them in with my hand just for the nasty fuck of it, holding his
unbelievable gaze with my eyes, showing him I get it. I like it. I want it. I
allow him to be who he is in that moment. His eyes close and he collapses
against me.

“I’m
Mark,” he tells me, quietly.

“Jessica.”

 
The Next
Day

“You did
what?!” Amber’s jaw is on the table, soaking up the garlic oil that was meant
for our bread. We’re on the charming outdoor patio of a restaurant having
lunch, enjoying the final warm days we’ll have before Fall begins. She
continues, “What are you, crazy or something? I don’t even know who you are
right now.”

I know
who I am. I do. I’m 5’6” with a pretty okay body leaning toward the average
side over the thin, but I feel pretty good about it. I saw an anorexic girl the
other day and I was like, honey, how do you not see that? I felt bad for her.
If I can’t be grateful for what I have, however imperfect and flawed, then I
can’t be happy. I don’t want to be on the fast track to plastic surgery or an
eating disorder. No, thank you.

But I
digress. Like I said before, I’ve got red hair (dyed - explaining my lack of
freckles) breasts that are a small C cup (when I’m on my period) and I’m a
little loud. I also love to make fun of people. In a good way, not in the I’m a
bitch sort of way. I don’t like to
hurt
people
but I do like to laugh… and people can be truly ridiculous, right?

Like
Amber here. I love her and she is my best friend, one of two of them, but she
hates to look like a pig (metaphorically) and every time we take a picture
together, she has to approve it before I post it to Instagram. She rarely
approves them, but that’s because she’s a perfectionist of the highest order. A
control freak. But also one of the most loyal and fun people I know. And don’t
tell her I told you this but the photos she does approve, she looks bad in.
Pretty but angry and cold, like that’s sexy. Maybe that’s how she wants to
look, I don’t know.

“I can’t
say it again,” I say to her, grabbing a piece of baguette and smooshing it into
the oil. Mmm. She didn’t really drop her jaw in it, because you know, she’s not
a cartoon. Damn – great sex sure does make my mind goofy. I shove the
yummy bread in my mouth with a playful smirk.

“You must
say it again, because I cannot believe it,” she commands me.

“No.”

“Yes!”

“Okay.” I
reach for the already half-gone glass of white wine in front of me… and take an
extraordinarily long dramatic pause. I
love
to tease. I soak in gleefully her anticipation as I drink slowly, until Amber
can hardly stand it.

I’m so
glad to have a friend who doesn’t mind drinking at 2 p.m. on a weekday with me,
when I’ve got news like this. We never really need a reason. I decide this is the
perfect moment to tell her that. Overly sweet, I say, “I love that we can drink
at lunch like this. It makes me feel really close to you.”

“Shut up!
Tell me again what you did, Jessica, or I will punch you right now in front of
all these people. Because I am telling you – I. Do. Not. Believe it.” She
got really quiet on that last part. Amber couldn’t look menacing if she tried.
Her petite frame, small hands, blue eyes, and blond hair wouldn’t allow it. She
could look like a fairy, maybe… just not a menacing fairy. Still, the volume of
her attempt, created an audience. People are looking at us. I love this shit.

“Okay,” I
say and lean forward to whisper
really
quietly. She leans in, so excited, her thin prettily-shaped eyebrows raised up
in expectation. I can’t help myself. I yell really loudly right in her face, “I
had amazing sex with a guy I met on the Internet!!!”

She
whoops, bounces backward in her chair and looks around. Sure enough, all eyes
are on us, forks suspended, men growing pup tents (I’m guessing), and women
shocked, secretly so incredibly jealous.

I
announce to the room, “I’m kidding! Just kidding.” They go back to eating. “No,
I’m not!” Amber and I start laughing so hard that the whole place gets very
annoyed…except for the men. They are trying not to peak at me, my tits, my
legs. It’s tough enough for them to not look at women, without my bringing up
the word “sex” in a public place -and with
no
shame
.

When our giggling
fit ends, we both bury our grins into our glasses to collect ourselves, act
like ladies. We are not trashy… not at all. Both Amber and I are put-together
women who have decent jobs, even though we aren’t passionate about
 
them (hence the drinking like we don’t
care – because we don’t). Well, I guess Amber is passionate about hers
– she works in casting – but since it’s her own business, she can
skip out, and create her own schedule. We’ve both got good relationships with
our families and our friends, blah blah blah. But damn if it isn’t boring
sometimes to be that “together.” So trashy, no. A little wild? Hell yes.

“What was
it like?” she asks, leaning in closer to me as she pulls some long
honey-colored strands of hair behind her ear, out of habit.
 
So “Amber” of her. I love it when she
does that.

I lean
in, too (show is over, people) and tell the truth. “The crazy thing is, it was
incredible. This guy looked like he was out of a movie. He knew how to move his
hips the right way, like a dancer would, you know how they do that thing?” She
nods, grinning. “He wasn’t afraid to look at me either, but not too much, you
know? He didn’t get creepy about it, or go the other way…”

“Like
he’s trying to be Casanova but there is no connection, all act,” she interjects.

“Exactly.
Right?! None of that crap. When he sucked on…sorry, do you want to hear the
gory details?”

“Are you
kidding me right now?! Do you know how long it’s been since Josh and I slept
together?”

I have no
idea. She never talks about sex anymore. Not since they moved in four or five
months ago. “How long?”

“Just
keep talking. I don’t want to get depressed,” she rolls her eyes, and takes a
big gulp of wine. That can’t have tasted good, drinking that much that fast,
but okay. It must have been a reaaaaallly long time.

“Okay,” I
whisper and continue in a voice so low that there is no way anyone but Amber
can hear me. “When he sucked on my nipples, he did it with such attention and
slow licking that I swear they woke up for the first time in my life. Like they
were only
pretending
to feel good
before and now were ‘
hey ho! What’s going
on here?’
” She shakes her head in disbelief and envy. I nod. “Seriously
Amber, it was amazing. And oh my God, I could not believe his body!” I grin
hard and pound my fists on the table, my feet on the floor, like that girl in
Flashdance – she’s a maniac, maniac on the flah-whore. Wait, not whore. I
am not a whore. “Oh my God. Am I a whore? I swear my mind just pulled out the
‘W-H’ word.”

“No! You
are a woman who just got her heart ripped out by yet another man on this planet
who doesn’t understand the definition of fidelity. Because we need more of
those
around. You’re like me - you
like
sex. You are one of the gifted
women who likes having sex and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that! I
mean you’re going to live longer because of it. Studies show, people who have
sex and who orgasm specifically, are healthier and happier. They live longer.
You’re practically immortal, never a bad thing. Do you hear me?”

She
looked very serious and those great eyebrows of hers (I have to ask where she
gets them threaded) are up again. I nod but she waits for more, tossing out a
hand gesture for me to tell her I am not a whore, indicating she wants me to
say it out loud.

“Yes. I
hear you. I am not a whore. I am immortal. Thank you.”

She leans
back, satisfied. “So, are you going to see him again?”

Just then
my phone beeps telling me I have a text message.

“No. He
was only in town for one night. That’s why I did it.” I pick up my phone to
find the name
David
smacking me in
the gut, his text reads: Can we talk?

Amber is
oblivious and says, “Oh nooooo!!! Only in town for a night! That sucks so bad.
Are you kidding me right now?”

“I am not
kidding you.” I hold up the phone to show her. “I am also not kidding that
David wants to talk.”

She
stares at it. “Dude.”

“Right?!”
I toss it like it has a disease.

We sit
for a second, staring at my phone and ponder how weird the world is, helpless
to do anything about it. Since neither of us want to talk about David or why he
is calling, or what he could possibly want, I throw out a life raft. “So…how
long has it been with you and Josh?”

She rolls
her eyes as the waiter comes and fills our waters. She waits for him to leave
and says, “I told you. Don’t depress me. I’d rather talk about David texting
you and I know we don’t want to get into that.”

 
“Totes. Okay, so…I have to know. Who does
your eyebrows?”

She
lights up like I just asked how old her children are, because she doesn’t have
children. If she did, she wouldn’t have time to have eyebrows that perfect.
“Aren’t they great? You have got to go to my girl! She is ah-ma-zing.”