ASMTD Ch. 03

"I'll ask you one last time, Rai," Leo growls, drawing my attention. "Do you want this?"

Holy shit. I look at Leo and I'm suddenly reminded of all our text messages. He loves the outdoors, is obsessed with biking, and trains for marathons. There's not an inch of fat, only leanness and muscle. His arms and legs might as well be clubs, and I'm 100% sure I could dice vegetables on his stomach it's so flat. He's muscled-calluses rugged; I'm jelly-filled softness.

Do I want this? His question bounces around my head like an arcade game. It hits memories of boys that never fit the bill. Of sextings sessions that fizzled out because the guy used emoticons to tell me how I was going to love his cocklate. The first time I said I love you to a boy half way around the world who would only remain my penpal—still is. All those useless times of nothing happening and the sharp reminder from my teenage angst that nothing was going to happen.

"Yes I want this."

And I have this idea in my head that sex with Leo is going to start off hot and heavy, awkward. Her's going to tell me to get on the bed, and then kiss me and play with my nipples. Eventually, we'll make it to the sex part and it'll hurt and I'll cry and he'll kiss it away.

Blame it on the steady deluge of romance novels, movies, and stupid commercials.

"On your knees."

Huh? There is no way I heard him right. My eyes flash to Leo's face, but there's not a teasing slant to his lips or a waggle of his brows. His teeth are clenched, eyebrows drawn, lips thinned. I blink and take more of him in. The hunch of his shoulders, the fisting of his hands, the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

"Now."

I drop. Unaware that I've done so until the carpet burns my knees and the cement underneath bruises them. Thoughts zip through my mind and I get an instant headache.

Shit.

Shitshitshit.

My body is attuned to Leo in the room even as my mind spirals out of control. The ground reverberates under his steady steps and my thighs clench. I feel the heat of him in front of me and my nipples pebble. His breath tickles the ends of my hair as he looks down at me and I shiver, clit throbbing painfully. The rough skin of his hand under my chin freezes my chaotic mind as Leo tilts my head up and runs the pad of his thumb over my dry lips.

I lick them instinctually, catching his thumb with my tongue, feeling him part my lips and press in. He tastes like salt but not like salt. As I close my mouth over his appendage and draw him deeper, I realize that his thumb is wet. And it's not from my tongue.

"How do I taste, Rai?" he asks softly, the tone deceptively gentle.

I don't realize my eyes are closed until I open them and stare straight into his.

Shit.

"Kultaseni, I bet you taste even better. Touch yourself."

Wetness leaks to my thighs as I spread my legs and run my fingers through my folds. Teasing my clit from its hood, I gasp and Leo pulls his thumb from my mouth, snatching the hand between my legs. He lifts the shiny digits to his mouth, painting his lips with my index finger. The growl that reverberates from his chest makes me moan as he licks his lips and devours my fingers to the knuckle.

His teeth scrape, tongue lashing across my skin. Shit. Leaning forward, I engulf his cock, feeling the sting of his bite on my thumb. Leo groans above me, removing my fingers from his mouth and kissing the tips. He links our hands and drops them to his side, fisting the hair at my nape with the other.

"Jumalauta! Your mouth feels like fire. Swallow for me."

I do.

Leo's leash on himself is tighter than ever as he slowly draws himself out of my mouth and very carefully thrusts back in. He tells me how to breathe, to relax, how he likes it. But soon his voice cracks, words falling to Finnish, thighs quaking in an effort to remain upright. I can feel the tension in his abdomen as I take control from him. Draw all the way back until the tip is between my teeth, flick my tongue back and forth. Nails dig into my neck as I run my teeth over the length of him, just like he likes.

What if I...? Taking his cock in as far as it'll go, I try to say what is the equivalent of the letter G in Arabic. Except if comes from the middle of my throat—Ghrain.

His hips buck hard, nails scoring my scalp. Leo's warning is a shout as he comes, hitting the back of my throat. I can't swallow fast enough. His semen leaks around my bruised lips, falling onto the tops of my breasts and off my nipples. I feel every drop as he finishes and pulls out of my mouth.

Eyes unfocused, cheeks flushed, Leo looks down at me like I'm a goddess. "What the hell was that?"

"Arabic."

He shakes his head and pulls me up by our still-locked hands and a palm at my waist. "I should have warned you sooner. You didn't have to swallow."

"It's fine."

His eyes widen and he curses visciously as his palm cups my cheek. "Do you even know how you look right now?" he breathes, leaning down and sniffing the crook of my neck.

"There's no mirror, so..."

"Damn, it's everywhere." He draws back and lifts a hand to my breast, rubbing his cum into the tight peak. Blue eyes, darker than I've ever seen, drop to my lips. "Tell me."

It takes me a second to remember he asked a question. A while ago. How do I taste? "Creamy," I purr, watching the blue turn black. "What about me?"

I'm on my back before the end of the question, and he's between my spread legs as he answers. "Glorious."

His fingers are magic, but his tongue? Until that momement I couldn't understand why people compared oral to eating. But I get it. Can understand how ice cream and lollipops and cream filled donuts must feel. Or that's how he makes me feel. Like I'm confection he can't get enough of. Not with his lips or teeth or tongue.

Short nails dig into the backs of my thighs as I try to hold myself down, thrust up, back away, grind hard. Wild thing with no filter, no sense of the words coming out of my mouth or what the hell my body's doing. He takes it—my everything—leaving me dangerously needy, slit eyed with tears tracking down.

"Fuck me," I moan, the words vibrating from my chest and straining my already hard nipples.

He places a sloppy, wet kiss to my inner thigh. "Not. Yet. I want you to come."

"It's fine. A man's never gotten me off—"

He stills, fingers tightening until I cry out at the pressure. "I'm your first." The words are triumphant, caveman and possessive as hell as he dips his head and places his whole mouth on me. I feel his tongue dip into my body before it snaps up and flicks my clit. Sharp. Hard.

My back bends, thighs shake, mouth opening on a wordless scream as I come. My hands ball in the sheets, toes curling to painful spirals, and my spine snaps back, sending me crashing to the bed as I feel my heartbeat in my clit. Once, twice.

He nips me.

My entire body twists away, thighs snapping closed around his head as I bury my face in the sheets and scream. It's beyond too much, not skirting the pain but diving right into it until I'm numb, floating on all the sensations and none of them at all.

What does it feel like to walk? God, I think I fucking forgot.

His hands leave me, head and mouth pulling away from my thighs and I shudder, curling into myself. Deep breaths. That's what I need. Deep breaths and no orgasms for a few weeks. No wonder people have heart attacks during sex: that kind of pleasure shuts you down.

From what sounds like a distance I hear the crinkling of foil and blow the curls tangled around my face away. Leo stands next to the bed looking right at me with the most feral, animalistic expression. Her's trying to smile, I think, but it's a baring of teeth. A warning that if I try to run, he'll catch me. Eyes narrow, nostrils flare, chest labouring, he looks ready for a chase, excited for the hunt.

A checklist titled Things I'll Do in Leo's Bed pops into my head, and playing Hunter-prey declares itself in all caps, bolded, underlined twice at the top.

"Was I too rough?"

Through sheer willpower alone, I move my legs and flop onto my back, staring at him from between my breasts. "Yes." He grimaces and opens his mouth, but I interrupt him, "I liked it."

"Jumalauta, Rai," he hisses, grabbing my hips and dragging me to the edge of the bed. My legs dangle over, tip toes touching the cool, coarse hotel carpet. "You want to know why I talked to you?" he asks suddenly, stepping between my thighs and rubbing the head of his cock over my folds. I suck in a sharp breath and catch his eyes. Leo never looks away, never blinks as he enters me, so slow, I feel the tension roll off him as his sweat drips onto my breasts and stomach. "Because I knew you were fucking filthy. Smart, sexy, but surrounded by stupid boys who wouldn't know what the hell to do with you even if they got the chance. Just come in their pants and give you a peck on the cheek and leave you unfuckingsatisfied."

He licks his lips when he bottoms out, holding still so I feel everything. Big from the get-go, Leo at the root stretches me so far I wonder if I could ever feel another man or if I'd only ever feel the echoes of him. This. Leo.

"Never, Rai," he promises, bending to take my nipple between his teeth, roll it over his tongue. "I'd never do that to you. Only this, kultaseni. Just this."

Shit.

Leo makes my teeth ache. Too sweet, too much bite, too much of a good thing. Fuck going to my hips, the man goes straight to my heart, my head, my pussy. God, he fucks. Raw savage. But he never hurts me, never draws blood; only leaves bruises of remembrance and aches I know will never heal. Screw physical, our sex is mental.

Eyes connect, breaths in sync, we meld minds. Tell each other every dirty, sexy, smart thing. Like he loves being inside me more than he loves putting the final touches on a website and shipping it off to production. And I scream that having sex with him is better than inspiration striking and cracking out 100 pages in one sitting.

He flips me on my hands and knees and thrusts back into me as I confess that if I had to choose between having no sugar for the rest of my life or him just one more time, I'd choose him. Always.

Leo laughs and bites my shoulder, slamming into me from behind. The fitted sheets pull away from the corners and tangle around me as I scrape the bare mattress.

I'm close. So fucking close. Reaching between my legs, I rub my clit, getting myself there. He doesn't stop me, not when my fingertips catch his dick and curl around it as he moves. I give him a friendly squeeze and he groans, jackknifing fast. My arms give out, elbows crashing to the bed as my head drops and I moan, watching through the curtain of my hair as he moves.

Shit.

Leo comes with a jerk, unexpected, expanding to the point of pain. I tumble after him, locking down, holding him still, drawing it out. Small. Eternity.

The sheets press to my body, cool, before I realize I've collapsed on the bed. Somehow I manage to turn my cheek and stare at the slate black television reflecting our image as good as any mirror. Leo's body is hunched in the frame, one hand on my hip, the other leveraged on the bed. I shift and feel that hand, feel everything.

Fingers squeeze my hip as Leo pulls out and stands on shaking legs staring down at me. I watch everything play out on the TV, but can't get a clear image of his face. Then he moves out of the reflection, and I cock my head and trail him with my eyes.

Nice ass. Pretty sure I'll be taking a bite out of it soon.

"Want something to drink?" he asks as he steps into the bathroom. Water runs from the tap, slightly masking the sound of him tossing the used condom in the trash can and peeing. Ugh. With the door open though?

Closing my eyes, I snuggle deeper into the messy sheets as sleep tugs at me. I know I should get up and get cleaned, but there's no way I can manage it. Something damp and warm taps my ankle and I rouse enough to see Leo looming over me, a silly grin on his face.

"Are you thirsty?"

I try to swallow, but find the action painful. Screaming and all. "Oh yeah. Water would be great."

"Sure. Why don't you get cleaned up and I'll pour you a glass."

Placing not moving and sleeping on hold, I gingerly make my way to the bathroom, already aware of the twinge between my legs and the spots on my body that will bruise. I follow suit with the bathroom door-open-thing and pee while I look over my body in the mirror. Hair a mess, tear tracks on my face, lips puffy and red in the least cute way, and bite marks on my neck and shoulder. I shiver at the thought of what the rest of me looks like. Wrecked. Thoroughly and completely.

I smile at the thought and reach for the toilet paper to wipe myself. A smear of red catches my eye. Fuck. How did I forget? No really? How?

Virgin. I am—was—a virgin. Aren't first times supposed to hurt? Feel at worst like a visit to the gyno for a pap smear and at best a pinch? I felt none of that.

"Fuck!" I curse under my breath, wetting the toilet paper and removing what is left of my hymen. I calculate the odds that he's seen it and he knows as I wash my hands. High. Red alert, alarms going off high.

The dark smudges against my hips and the blotchy spots of red on my thighs and breasts don't interest me nearly enough as I calm my nerves and walk back into the room. The fitted sheet is gone from the bed, leaving the top sheet, comforter, and blanket. I spot Leo reclining on a pillow against the headboard, completely naked with his arms and ankles crossed.

"Hey." He nods to the bedside table. "Water's over there."

"Thanks," I say slowly. Maybe there wasn't any blood on the sheets. Maybe if he asks I can play it off as the start of my period or just a symptom of the wild sex. Yeah. Sure.

Grabbing the water, I carefully sip at it, the cool liquid running down my throat.

"I didn't realize I was your first in everything, Rai. You should have told me you were a virgin, I would have been gentler the first time," he chides softly.

Water sprays from my nose and mouth as I cough, hacking. Leo pats my back as I shudder and try to get the liquid out of my lungs. Asshole did it on purpose. No way he didn't.

"It slipped my mind," I wheeze after a second.

"Even you know that's a crappy lie."

"Well." I slam the glass down and whirl on him. "I was a virgin, so what?"

"Did it hurt?" He cups my cheek and carefully looks over my face before dropping down to my body. "I shouldn't have told you to get on your knees or—"

"Don't," I bite, smacking his hand away and stomping around the room to look for my clothes. They're in the bathroom and I snatch my shirt from the vanity, valiantly trying not to look at myself in the mirror. "Just because I never sucked dick or fucked some guy doesn't mean I'm a bloody saint. God, do you even realize how you're looking at me?"

He didn't; I knew that. If he did, he would hate it as much as I do. Like he's the Big Bad Wolf and I'm defenseless Little Red Riding Hood—in the classic tale, not the dirty one. Or I'm some little princess he just defiled. There's pain, regret, and none of the possessive passion I've come to know. Leo thinks I'm fragile. I'm titanium, and his dick's not going to change that.

Unfolding my shirt, I toss it over my head. Leo's behind me a second later, hands twisted in the hem. "I'm sorry."

"I don't want you to be sorry," I say stiffly.

"But you don't want me the way I am, Rai. Because what we just did doesn't even scratch the surface of what I want. I said gentle, but honestly I thought I was gentle." He nips the skin under my ear and tugs me back into him. "I haven't fucked your ass, come on your breasts, made you ride me. Not even close to what I want. Kultaseni, I haven't even had you bareback. So I am sorry you're stuck with an asshole like me, because I'm not the candlelight and slow lovemaking guy. And with you—jumalauta, I want to be that guy."

A lump settles in my chest at his words. Fuck Leo. He is supposed to be fun, light sex. Supposed to me a faded memory after a day because I drank too much. But I'm horribly sober, branded with this night. Words are so cavalier, so careless and incomplete, but not from him. Never from him. I feel them as physical manifestations racing across my skin, settling in my muscles, implanting themselves in my bone.

"That guy," I squeeze out of my throat as I turn to face him, "Is an abstract concept. You are here. You are what I want, Leo. Fuck candlelight and lovemaking. I'd rather be stripped down and raw with you."

The regret on his face deepens, but it's colored by another emotion; one I can't place. He ducks his head and ever so gently presses his lips to mine. Whisper of a caress. "Never letting you go."

And in the heat of that moment, I let myself believe him.