Gliding his fingers down her stomach, he felt her quiver with the gentle pressure. He yanked the snap of her shorts. Sliding the zipper down, he inched them over her hips. “You wear the craziest panties.” He fingered the velvet, zebra print thong.
“Johnny, make love, have sex, call it anything, but I want you— need you in me.”
“Making love takes time.” With one finger, he hooked the top of her panties and ran his finger along the elastic edging. “Making love is slow and sensual.” He inched her panties over her thighs. “Making love isn't shoving my cock into your cunt and rutting like an animal.”
She struggled for breath as her panties slid down her thighs. “Animal is good. Wild and aggressive.”
“You want rough sex?” he said as her panties pooled at her ankles.
“I want you.”
“Then spread your legs.”
She widened her stance, and he knelt before her. He slid his tongue between the dewy lips of her sex. Hot cream trickled onto her inner thigh.
“Johnny.” She pushed against his mouth, wanting more, desperate to have his mouth on her, his tongue lapping her clit. She wanted to come. Her thighs vibrated, clenching as he brought her closer. Then she giggled.
“What?”
“Don't stop.” With a hand to the back of his head, she guided him between her legs. “I was thinking. The way you're eating me is like a cat at a bowl of cream. And then I thought how right the analogy was since you're licking my pussy.”
His chuckle vibrated into her sex. “I love your sweet cream.” He licked slow and long, dragging his tongue the length of her pearly folds, greedily feasting.
“More,” she said.
He stood from his knees and rammed two fingers into her swelling flesh. “I thought you'd like a taste.” Kissing her open mouth, he tangled his tongue with hers, sharing the flavor of her arousal. He flicked his fingers within the clenching passage of her pussy. Easing out, he circled her wet hole, pressed against her clit, then fingerfucked her again. Cream soaked his hand. “Do you want to come?” He nibbled her lips and cupped her mound.
She breathed, “Yes,” against his mouth.
Johnny traced his finger lower, around to her rosette and slipped his finger into her tight hole to the first knuckle. Her body tightened, and he pressed to the second knuckle. Slowly sliding in and out of her ass, at the same time he plunged his thumb into her pussy. Pleasure twisted through her core. Convulsions jerked her body, and her internal muscles clamped onto his fingers. Krissy gasped, clutching his shoulders to keep her balance.
Euphoric flashes blinded her closed eyes. Her mind numbed as waved of release rolled over her and he continued to work her holes in tandem. He touched her over- stimulated clit and she cried out. Another powerful wave of spasms contracted her channel, and her legs liquefied. The intensity of her orgasm robbed her of breath yet sent her spinning in a maelstrom of emotion.
Johnny shucked his pants. She felt like dropping to her knees and swearing allegiance to the...what?
His flag
? His cock did sort of wave as it pulsed. It was glorious with tightly stretched skin, a large, mushroom shaped crown, deep color, and swollen ropy veins running the underside of his thick shaft.
First, she touched the clear juices slicking the crown, then she circled the base with her fingers and gently squeezed. He jerked in response. With her other hand, she cupped and rolled his balls hanging heavy in a tightening wrinkled sac. The pouch contracted close to his body then released.
With one hand, Krissy combed through the dark springy hair with her nails, following the trail up his torso. In the other, she stroked the length then caught a drop of cream from the slit on her finger and massaged the heated, smooth crown. Her mouth watered. Dropping to her knees, she leaned forward and flicked her tongue, tasting the salty sweetness. Opening her mouth wide, she took him between her lips and sucked him.
“I'll come.”
She hummed and took him deeper until his knob bumped the back of her throat.
“Krissy.” He ripped his cock from her mouth. “Enough. I'm about to explode, and if you touch me again, I'll never last.”
He sat on the edge of the bed and she sat beside him. Scooting backwards, he stretched out and pulled her close. Fingers fluttered across her back, over her shoulders, then traced along her spine.
“I love your ass.” He cupped each firm cheek.
Shifting, she straddled his lap with her knees on the outside of his hips. The moist heat of her cunt hovered above his shaft. Aligning her soaked slit with his raging erection, she rode the length of his shaft. The folds of her pussy surrounded his cock, her cream leaving him slick and wet.
Leaning forward, she draped across him, mashing her breasts into the smooth, finely chiseled muscles of his torso. Her chest was tight, breath coming hard and fast. He was so strong beneath her, made her feel feminine and desirable.
Lifting her head, she placed soft kisses to his flat nipple, tasting him, enjoying the tantalizing texture against her tongue. “I've always thought you were sexy,” she said. “But never thought I'd have unrestricted access to touch— ” she flicked her tongue against his chin, “and to kiss.” She slid her lower lip over his, sliced her tongue along his delicious mouth. His lips parted, and she crept in, rubbing his tongue with hers. She kissed him with passion, need, almost feeling desperation. Without words, and with only her kiss, she wanted him to see how affected she was by his touch. She broke the kiss and a smile curled her mouth. “I suppose you've figured out that I love your cock between my legs.”
Johnny gripped her hips and rolled her to her back. The crisp hair of his legs tickled her inner thighs as he used his knees to spread her legs. She didn't need encouragement. Opening wide, she welcomed the weight and width of his hips.
He quivered beneath her fingertips, stomach tight, the corded abdominals ripped and tense. Then with a slow controlled glide, he was finally inside her. Hot juices slicked her passage. She arched her pelvis, and grunting with pleasure, he went deeper— all the way until he pressed to the top of her wet, searing channel and caused her walls to contract, gloving him in her tightened sheath.
“Oh, you feel so good.” He stretched her taut, leaving her feeling deliciously stuffed. Angling her hips, she met his stroke. He thrust in and filled her until his balls nestled against her ass. Pumping slow and sure, bracing his weight with his arms, he stared into her eyes with a soft smile on his lips.
They connected. Every nerve sizzled. Building to a crescendo, the friction intensified, the swollen flesh of her passage infused with liquid heat. And he continued to drill into her. Again. And again. Harder. Deeper.
Johnny pounded into her body. With each thrust, his balls slapped her ass. He wasn't just fucking her. He commanded and her body obeyed. She was his loyal subject. Her breath hissed at the pleasure. He was wonderfully huge, stretching her on each down stroke. Making her whimper with each retraction.
Johnny pumped into her. She wrapped her legs around his hips, taking the forceful thrusts as he drove toward his own release. Hitting his orgasm, hot jetting cum scorched on the inside. His cock was hard and she was so wet. She arched off the bed and came.
“Oh god.
Oh god
. Oh god!” Each oh god raised an octave. Then she screamed, “All Hail King Johnny!”
Oh, damn. She'd really screamed aloud. But how was she supposed to hold her tumultuous emotions in when her body writhed, gripped by the fiercest orgasm yet. How much more could she take? Any better and she'd die from pleasure.
Johnny rolled off, held his sides, and laughed.
This could be a good sign.
She rolled to her stomach and propped her chin in her palm. “So I guess we're still just having sex. People don't laugh while making love.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “We do.”
“Fine,” she said, a note of annoyance to her tone. “I'll concede sex is good with you.”
“The king takes offense.” Johnny scooted to the edge of the bed. “The sex is fantastic.”
She'd made statements in the past that had come back to bite her. This one took the prize. He knew what he did to her. That's why he wore the smug smile.
He stood and strutted naked across the floor, his erection still impressive. No reason he needed to leave yet.
“Where are you going?” She sat, crossed her legs, and pulled her pillow into her lap, holding it against her chest.
About to step through the doorway, he pointed across the hall. “To the bathroom for a cloth.” His smile was soft. “I'm going to take care of you. Now lie down and put that pillow under your ass before I spank it. Like sex, making love makes babies, too.”
The neon sign flashed in the corner.
Just sex
. The sign flickered and burned out. Arguing with her conscience was useless. She couldn't convince Johnny if she didn't believe it herself. She fingered the edge of the pillow. All the what- ifs. What if she could have a long- term relationship? What if she could guarantee Johnny wouldn't grow tired of her? What if she did get pregnant, planned forever, and Johnny walked away? Not from his child, but from her...their friendship, and all the years together. She wouldn't survive.
“Hey,” he said, breaking into her maudlin thoughts. He took two wide steps and jumped onto the bed, nearly landing on top of her. She giggled as he toppled her backwards, covering her body. His growing erection poked her when he pressed her into the bedding. “I suppose if you won't do as you're told, I'll have to make sure I've done my job thoroughly.”
He slid off the bed, walked around to the side closest to the wall, grabbed Krissy at the ankles, and swung her legs toward him.
“What are you doing?” She giggled as she placed one leg on each side of his hips and braced her feet on the wall. With Johnny positioned between her thighs, she lay on her back with her head in the center of the bed and her butt nearly falling off the edge.
“Brace your feet on the wall, babe, because I'm going to make you swear your loyalty.”
Chapter Eight
Is This Heaven?
Krissy slid from the bed. Padding naked and barefoot to the bathroom, she stared at the pregnancy test waiting for her first morning pee. Turning toward the bedroom, she could see Johnny's legs from the knees down. Sprawled out, lightly snoring, and spending the night in her bed. This signified an entirely new level of intimacy. She'd never let a man, boyfriend, whatever, spend the night. Johnny crashed on the couch. That wasn't the same. At the time, they weren't involved sexually. She put on her bathrobe and went to the living room.
That Johnny was in her bed, spending the night, sent her turbulent emotions into a riot. Nervous tension roiled in her stomach. What was she going to do? She curled into the ratty recliner with her legs pulled up. Her thoughts were the only noise in the quiet apartment. She closed her eyes, but all she saw were images of Johnny.
It was crazy to consider getting involved. Yet she was.
“You okay?”
She jumped at the sound of his voice from the darkened hall. A small amount of light from the streetlamps revealed he'd put on his boxers. Messy hair, whisker stubble shadows under his cheekbones, just tumbled sexy, and she wanted him— all of him. But she knew her strengths and she knew her weaknesses. She'd screw up because she always did. And then they'd have nothing but regrets. She couldn't let him regret a child.
“I missed you beside me in bed.” He came closer. His voice, deep and gravely from just waking, stroked the flames of desire she thought he'd quenched. She didn't want to be turned on.
“I needed to think. I don't do that well when you're near me.” Yes, like a moment ago when she listed the pros and cons of getting more than physically involved. The list of reasons, or rather excuses didn't seem so important. Didn't she have to try?
“Come back to bed and think.” He took her fingers.
“We need to talk.” Tears burned the back of her eyes. This would not be a good time for tears. She wanted to appear strong and sure, not show him she was scared as hell to trust him, to trust herself.
He dropped to his knees. “What is it?”
She touched his face. “Did you know I've never let a man spend the night?”
“I stay over all the time.”
“Not to share my bed.” She leaned in and kissed his lips, tenderly. “I want you to stay, sleep in my bed...” She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and folded her hands in her lap. Leap of faith time. “We can do this, can't we? Keep our friendship but have more. Still have fun but know when to be serious.” She looked at her hands and stopped the fidgeting she didn't realize she was doing. “I want to try...I mean I do want more than friendship. I want you in the same way you want me. I guess I'm just afraid I'll screw up what we already have.”
Johnny dropped his head into her lap. She couldn't resist running her fingers through the silken mess of hair. Smooth and broad, his muscular shoulders tapered to his waist. Using her nails, she gently scratched circles into his back.
“That feels good.”
“Sit forward. Massage or back scratching?”
“Doesn't matter.” He turned around and sat Indian style. “I just like your hands on me.”
In the darkened living room, she sat on the floor with Johnny positioned between her thighs. Cool air swept under the robe, titillating to the wetness drenching her folds. Running fingers over his shoulders, she dragged her fingernails down his back like a farmer furrowed his fields. “Harder?”
“No, softer.” His head dropped forward.
Next, she swirled her fingers in a figure eight. She drew close to the edge of his back near his armpit. Each time her nail crossed one particular rib, he twitched. Ticklish or stimulating, she wondered. Tempting with her tongue, she licked the spot. His body had a momentary spasm and she laughed. “Sorry, I had to see if it tickled.”
“It does, and it's also making me incredibly hard. Why don't you part your robe, sit on my lap, and let me find your ticklish spot?”
“Be good,” she said, switching from a scratch to a massage. “Hold on, I need something from my room.” She hurried into her room for a bottle of sweet almond massage oil.