“Uh huh,” I mumbled. My mind was trying to focus on the words coming from his mouth and not the need that he’d pulled to the surface of my skin like a rush of blood trying to find the nearest exit.

“My dick’s been hard for the last two days, aching to be sheathed by this tight, hot pussy that feels like heaven when I’m inside it. I think I literally saw a white light when I came with you wrapped around me.”

“I’m sure that had more to do with the alcohol you consumed.”

“Did you think I was drunk? Baby, it takes a hell of a lot more than one drink to put me under, and even blitzed out of my mind, I would remember this.”

His fingers brushed the outside of my opening—close enough to feel the heat from his hands, but not enough to sate the trembling of my core.

Taking himself in one hand, he stroked the length of his erection with every word, “Tell me you don’t want to take this for a ride and I’ll close up shop and keep him locked up for however long we’re stuck together, but tell me now, otherwise I’m taking you to the room and fucking you so hard you’ll think you’re a contortionist.” He took long, hard pulls of his shaft, his dick jumping and pulsing with every stroke. I watched in utter fascination of the barbell that hypnotized me every time his fist closed over the tip.

His other hand held firm against my neck, keeping me in place as his lips closed around mine. He licked the seam of my mouth, begging me to part my lips to receive his tongue that licked so soft and gentle, yet anything but tentative. It felt like his tongue knew the map of my mouth, taking the perfect route to have me parting against his lips in no time. I forgot all about the question he asked and let his mouth lead my body. He thrust his hips into his enclosed fist, and I found my hands seeking him out, tracing the contours of his body—every muscled mountain and low valley, from one muscle to the next.

Our tongues tangled, and I became emboldened either from the alcohol or contact high. I gripped his thigh, pulling him closer and trailed lower with my other hand. In some ways it was like the first time all over again, except my body seemed to remember his even though my mind was just as insecure and unsure as if I’d just met him. Where I was insecure, Joel was assured in every touch, every caress of those soft lips brushing mine. The hand that he’d used to stroke himself folded around my hand, returning us to his turgid member.

He took over, guiding me to stroke his erection in tandem.

“You’re making a mess of the couch, you know. This juicy pussy is begging to be filled. Feel how hard I am for you. I would hate to disappoint this cunt of yours.” His thumb parted my lips, and he hooked the tip of his finger inside me like I was cattle to be lassoed.

“All you have to do is give me one word, Blaire. One word, and I’m all yours. What’s it going to be, Blaire?”

There was an edgy need coating his words. His finger continued strumming me like he was playing solo at the symphony and then he hit that one spot that made me feel like I could sing soprano with the amount of euphoria that overwhelmed me. I could barely breathe for fear that any more movement would set me off. Joel did that to me—made me feel alive, on edge, and filled with a need I never knew existed. It was like he was claiming my body as his, and I had no more say in how I responded than I had control over the weather.

The answer was the easiest decision I’d made in a long time. I set aside all thoughts of what this was supposed to be and how little we knew of each other and found myself as lost in desire as that first night I saw him at the bar with his fist wrapped around the glass as if he could crush it to dust with a twitch of his wrist.

“Yes.”

“Yes?” He phrased it like a question, but there was no hesitancy in the way his fingers pulsed between my quivering thighs—opening of their own volition to the onslaught that awaited.

“You have no idea how many ways I’ll break this little body, but I promise to put you back together again.” His words were spoken against the crook of my neck between labored breaths that clung to the last of his restraint.

The heat from his body fell over mine like a mist of embers, blanketing me with a thin layer of perspiration that roared to a fire with every pluck of his fingers between my legs. I sunk my heels into the couch and lifted my hips to rock in time with his flicking wrist. I’d never seen something so erotic as watching his hand peeling pleasure from my body with a simple twist of his fingers and quirk of his hand.

“Mmmm.”

I writhed against him, not caring what I looked like, only focusing on the look of immense desire surging in his eyes like a storm of rising tide ready to obliterate everything he dared look upon. With those eyes focused on me, I knew he meant every word he said about breaking me apart. I felt it as he gripped my clit between his fingers, rubbing until the breath seized in my throat.

“I’ll give you the first one free. The rest you’ll have to work for,” he said with a wink. Not a second passed that I had an opportunity to think about what he meant before he widened my legs with the turn of his fist and spread me open and sunk two fingers in as far as they would go. Like the parting of the red sea, I felt something turning inside me. A torturous ripple that seemed to pull at me with a force I couldn’t reach, couldn’t place or touch with my own fingers. It danced between a hollow ache and a heightened awakening that left my mind numb.

“When I pull my hand away, I want to be able to taste how ripe this pussy is for me. Come all over my fingers, Blaire.”

His fingers climbed higher like they were scaling the wall to reach the highest point that would have my body tumbling in a free fall. I scrambled for purchase against the couch, the lush cushions feeling like quicksand at my back as I sank further into his hold. Those lips that whispered filthy words and tasted of hedonistic decadence moved from my neck, sending shockwaves across my jaw and stunning my lips into submission. Swirling through my mouth with the same cadence as his shifting fingers, Joel’s tongue was a flurry of momentum that I couldn’t get enough of. He licked my lips and batted my tongue, and just when I thought my body couldn’t take any more, it tightened further under the weight of my impending orgasm.

“Joel.” I barked out his name in fear as if I were teetering on the edge of some great precipice with a hand looking for reassurance. His mouth smiled against mine, a toothy cat-that-ate-the-canary grin that was starting to become his signature look.

He lodged his fingers firmly inside me, withdrew an inch, then slammed back into me. I should have felt the changing tide in the way every muscle in Joel’s body stiffened with the most meticulous attention. The sensation was just what I needed to send me soaring.

“I’m coming!” I screamed, alarmed at my own orgasm that burst from me. My whole body shook as if a current of electricity sparked inside my veins, and I continued convulsing to the tempo of Joel’s seeking hands. He slowed down his pace to sporadic touches against my clit that felt like he was branding me with a cattle prod for how sensitive I was.

If the couch was messy before, it was a Slip’n Slide by the time I lifted my hips from the pool of moisture gathering between my cheeks and dribbling down my ass.

“My messy girl.” Joel looked down at the darkened spot I made, smiling before turning to me with a look of ardor—like a Boy Scout receiving his “Make a Girl Come” badge. A wave of elation washed over me, and I felt the first hiccup of laughter bubble in my chest, looking to break free. When more surfaced, I gave in to the overwhelming need to giggle. Joel let out a light chuckle, too, seemingly swept away in the moment. I wasn’t even sure what I was laughing at, and I had absolutely no idea what he was laughing at, but I just went along with it. Maybe it was the culmination of months of being practically celibate only to break my spell to a man as devastatingly hot as Joel, or maybe there was something about getting finger-banged on the couch, with the lights off and a couple drinks between us that made me feel like a teenager whose parents were out of town. I was never that girl, but Joel did have a way of bringing out the reckless side of me—one I didn’t know too well, but didn’t mind having a little sit down with.