No Limits (The Fighter Series Book 6) Read online
Page 6
“You’re going to explode before I get inside you,” he warns.
He removes my shirt, only releasing my hands briefly to rid them of the fabric, followed by my bra before securing my hands back above me. The cold friction against my nipples rouses me, igniting a heat to spool deep in my stomach.
Reaching around, he unbuttons my pants, lowers my zipper, and then spreads his hand across the skin of my stomach. “Tell me. How dirty of a talker are you?”
I’m more of a doer than a talker. I lose focus trying to concentrate on things I should say. It doesn’t come naturally for me. “Not much,” I admit.
A slight chuckle behind my ear turns my knees into rubber. “Yet you have such a filthy mouth…” His hand slips under my panties and I whimper as he slides his fingers between my wet folds. He hums. “I haven’t even started and you’re so wet. You want my dick buried inside of you?”
Hot aches pulsate inside of me, throbbing in waves that threaten to explode through me. “Yes,” I breathe.
He slips two fingers in and begins dragging them in and out. My pulse picks up with excitement and I push my ass out, rubbing against his hard dick. I’m squirming under his hands, desperate to feel him. He flicks his tongue under my earlobe and sucks it into his mouth before gently biting down.
I gasp, dropping my head back. My knees buckle slightly and he shoves his knee between my legs, steadying me.
As he uses his palm for friction against my clit and pumps his fingers into me, my orgasm peaks. My muscles throb with my heart rate. Sizzling white lights flash behind my eyes and I erupt.
“Oh god,” I moan against the metal, squeezing my eyes shut.
He finger fucks me, bouncing his knee to help drive into me.
As I slow, he drags his hand up my stomach leaving a trail of wetness on my skin, and then cups my breast. He’s panting when he releases my hands. I’m frenzied to feel him. I twist, grabbing his hair, and slam a kiss into him. Our tongues fight for dominance, our hands wandering over skin.
He walks us to his bedroom. I shove his shorts to his thighs and grab his rock-solid dick, stroking it. He smirks against my kiss and then tosses me onto the bed. His crystal eyes are dark as he kicks off his shorts and then rips my pants off my legs. Grabbing my ankles, he flips me over, snatches my hips and yanks me to all fours. His dick rubs against my ass as I hear the distinctive sound of the condom wrapper.
“Should I be a gentleman?”
Not one fucking bit. I shake my head, my voice caught under a lump of desire in my throat.
He digs his fingers into my hip. “You sure?”
“Yes,” I manage just before he slams into me.
I cry out from being completely filled and stretched, the pressure morphing into something so fucking pleasurable, I swear fireworks are bursting off in the distance. He palms the top of my ass, pushing up and digging his fingers into my skin. Using my ass, he pushes and pulls as he alternates between gloriously long strokes and magnificent short ones.
Unabashedly, I mewl into his sheets.
His rhythm is steady but unpredictable—short thrusts, deep plunges—using different pressures to provoke my orgasm. He shifts, grinding in, and I’m thrown into another orgasm. This one shatters me. My body splinters. I bite down on the blanket suppressing my scream, trembling as the rush surges through me.
Kyce becomes more urgent, frantic as he plunges in. His dick thickens and then he growls, digging his fingers hard into my skin as he barrels into his climax.
My body tingles. I’m done. I’m so relaxed I couldn’t walk if I wanted to. Sleep pulls at me as I catch my breath.
I guess I dosed off because I didn’t realize he left the bed until he crawls back into it, running his hand up my back, and kisses the side of my head.
“Fucking you is unbelievable.” He pauses. “You’re welcome to stay if you’d like.
His words bring energy back to my limp limbs and I roll to face him. Sleeping in someone’s arms feels intimate. It is intimate. And I know intimacy brings feelings to the heart. Lovers do that. And I don’t love. My lover-er is broken.
“When I can feel my body, I’d rather leave.”
Something swirls in his eyes as his expression remains blank, but then an easy smile quirks his lips up before he gets off the bed. He shoves back into his pants—commando—and then tosses my clothes on the bed.
“Want something to drink?”
“No,” I say all of a sudden feeling timorous and unable to look him in the eye.
When he leaves the room, I stand on wobbly legs and get dressed. I’m sore in such a great way and I’m going to sleep like a baby tonight.
Kyce is spread out on the couch, his feet on the coffee table, arm across the back, watching TV with a beer in his hand. He takes a swallow before sliding his gaze to me. “You sure you don’t want to stay?”
“I, uh…” I really want to. “I need to get home and shower so I don’t go to work smelling like sex.”
“You could stay and shower with me.”
I grin. “You just want shower sex.”
A hum vibrates his throat. “That sounds fucking great.”
I titter at his reaction.
Snatching my wrist, he yanks me onto his lap. “Fucking you is no laughing matter.”
He licks from my chin stopping just below my bottom lip and sucks it. I fight my eyes to not roll back. Threading his fingers through my hair, he grips my head and holds me steady as he kisses me fiercely. I moan, melting against him.
I’m panting when he pulls away. His eyes dancing with amusement. “Sure you don’t want to stay? I have to be at work at six, so you could leave when I do and have time to go home and change before work.”
There’s an innocence in his eyes. It swirls around the black of his pupils, dispersing into the strands of glacier blue. It’s pure and I could fall in love with it. He possesses a gaze I could stare into for the rest of my life.
The thought scares the fuck out of me and I scramble off his lap. “You drive a hard bargain, but I have to go.”
In my own mind, I have to convince myself not to stay. I don’t need to stay. He’s dangerous. Mysterious with good looks and good charm with a side of bad boy. It’s a hazardous concoction every girl wants. I refuse to be the next victim of his heart break…
He stretches as he stands, showing off deliciously hard muscles as he reaches for the sky. He sizzles me with a grin, like he knows I’m fighting one hell of a battle within me. “Call me later.”
Chapter 10
Work has been intense this week, no thanks to Jordon losing his mind over a pressing deadline, and today was it. Jordon was asked to build a specific motorcycle for Frankie Hall—a really big deal. He’s a wide receiver for one of the best teams in the NFL with a lot of awards under his belt. Although I can watch football, I’m not a big fan of it and I can’t tell you much about it other than they catch the ball and run like a zebra being chased by a pack of lionesses. But my brother? He loves football almost as much as he loves bikes and speed.
My thoughts are all over the place as I climb the million stairs to my apartment. Four floors of steps will keep your legs in shape. But the burn in my muscles does nothing to quell my thoughts of Kyce. I haven’t heard from him in two days although I haven’t reached out either. I don’t know how this is supposed to work, but I want him to want me just as much as I want him…which is every night, sometimes every other hour.
It takes a lot of will-power not to pick up the phone and order another cock call. I’m scared I’ll seem desperate, which I totally am. He delivers addictive mind-blowing orgasms and the way he kisses is only icing on the cake.
When I push open the door, I’m greeted by the mouth-watering scent of food and a smiling Scarlett. She spreads her arms to the side. “Honey, supper’s ready.” She beams. “Steak and baked potato with a side of broccoli that I’ll eat for you.”
I hate broccoli. It tastes the same way a bush on fire smells. “What are we
watching tonight?” I ask.
“I’ve got comedy action, purely action, or romance,” she says, opening up her hot pink laptop on the counter.
If you’re wondering, the answer is yes. Two single and beautiful women in their twenties are opting to stay in on a Friday night and have a friend date. We do this often, at least twice a month. Scarlett doesn’t have to worry about money. I do. This was her idea years ago to help me out.
I love her for it.
“Comedy action? Any hot guys?”
She smiles deviously. “Ryan Reynolds as a body guard hot enough for you?”
“That’ll do,” I chirp and then grab the napkins and two cold beers from the fridge.
She’s at one end of the couch. I’m at the other, under the same blanket as we watch one of television’s sexiest men run around towns trying to protect one of television’s best actors. We’re glued to the screen as the boat races through a canal, laughing when the actor flips off the other guy, when my phone chimes.
Kyce: What are you doing?
Jolie: Watching a movie with Scarlett.
Kyce: What will you be doing after?
Jolie: I’m not sure.
Kyce: How about plan on sleeping in my bed tonight. I promise I’ll make it worth your time.
I bite my lip to contain my grin when the feeling of Scarlett watching me pulls my attention to her. “Kyce?”
“Yeah. He wants me to come over tonight.”
“What time are you leaving?”
I ponder it. In all the years I’ve been Scarlett’s friend and all the movie dates we’ve done, I’ve never once left her, nonetheless for a man. I can’t recall if I’ve ever had to cancel to—
“Please tell me you’re not sitting there thinking about it. The answer should be now. As in, you’re leaving right now,” she interrupts my thoughts.
“For your information, I was thinking about it. You know I’ve never canceled or called a night off early.”
“There’s a first time for everything. Shoo. Go.” She flicks her hands at me.
“I don’t want him to think I’ll jump every time he beckons me.”
She looks at me like I’ve got a dick hanging from my mouth. “Are you insane? Have you lost your mind? If it’s as brilliant as you say it is, I would be texting him every day.”
A wicked smile spreads across my lips. “If what is as brilliant as I say?” I challenge.
She sits up, straightens her back and flips her hair off her shoulders. She looks sophisticatedly classy. “Sex.” She says the word slowly, enunciating. “You said the sex is great. There shouldn’t be any second thoughts. Let him throw you into euphoria with his sex as much as he’s willing to. Don’t think. Just do. Your body will thank you.”
Overdramatically, my mouth gapes open as a jolt of surprise causes me to laugh. “You’re dipping your toes into my dark side. I don’t know if I should be scared or celebrate my happiness.”
She waves me off again. “Celebrate by going to his house and having some fun.”
And the bold Scarlett exits stage left. “Oh, Scarlett. It’s you. For a second, I thought someone else was here.”
She gives me the evil eye. “Go. I’ll be here jealous.”
“You’re going to stay here and wait up for me? That’s creepy, Scar. But very loving.”
She bites the inside of her cheek trying to remain stoic.
“What if I don’t come back tonight?” I ask.
She shrugs. “I’ll make the bed when I leave.”
The moment Kyce opens the door, he wraps his arms around my waist and tugs me against him. He slides his other hand up my cheek and scrapes his fingers into the hair on the side of my head.
“I have a confession,” he rasps. “I’ve tried to control the urges to text you. I’ve jacked off so many times in the past two days.” He closes his eyes taking a deep breath before looking back at me. “It’s only made things worse. I’m manic to feel you.”
His confession pulls something in my chest. Here I’ve been worried he doesn’t feel the same as I do, yet he’s just as bad as I am. His eyes flash and he lifts me, coercing my legs to wrap around his waist. I kiss him feverishly as he carries us to the couch and sets my ass on the armrest. Hastily, he tugs my shirt over my head and unsnaps my bra, tossing both somewhere behind him. He’s not gentle as he cups my breast, squeezing my skin and tweaking my nipples between his fingers. I’ve been so impatient to feel him, happiness emanates me as I drop my head back with a needy moan.
Full of vehement arousal, I shove his shorts down to his thighs and grip his thick dick, stoking him. He juts his hips forward and wraps his fingers around my hand, circling my nipple with the head of his dick leaving a wet trail of excitement on my skin.
He grips my chin, lifting my face to his. “I have another confession.” His voice is hoarse and it’s fucking sexy. “Tonight I’m selfish. I’m greedy to fuck you for only me.”
It excites me. “Then what are you waiting for?”
His eyes darken with lewdness. He shoves me and grasps my hips, causing my back to hit the cushion and my ass to stay propped up on the armrest. He’s definitely manic as he jerks my pants off, tossing them too. With his thumb, he circles my clit as he rolls on the condom. When he’s finished, he pushes my legs further apart and thrusts in. It fills me intensely. I cry out, which turns into a hiss as I grip the edge of the cushion. This time he’s not gentle. He is exactly as he said—greedy.
He pumps into me, his fingers wrapped tightly around my hips. This angle is more intense, hitting spots that teeter between too painful and just fucking right, and it’s lighting my body on fire in its wake.
He bites his bottom lip, his nostrils flaring, abs flexing with the rocks of his hips. Suddenly my orgasm begins to weave through my limbs. Like water building into a tsunami, it spreads powerfully. He grips the inside of my thighs, forcing my legs wider apart as he gyrates his hips.
“My cock…looks so good…disappearing…into your…pussy,” he rasps between thrusts.
I lose it, rolling my eyes shut and riding the convulsions. They resonate through my body, the tsunami crashing into me. I dig my nails into the cushions as the orgasm steals the strength of my muscles, paralyzing me in the best possible way.
His jaw flexes and suddenly he lets out the most erotic moan, digging his fingers into my skin and pumping quick, short strokes. He drops his head back, chanting and cursing toward the ceiling as he spills himself into me.
With one last jut, he pulls out and braces himself on the couch. “You okay?” he pants.
I nod.
He puffs a chuckle before striding down the hall and into the bathroom. Somehow I find the strength to shrug back into my shirt, and as I’m getting back into my pants, he reemerges from the bathroom still naked. His body is chiseled sexiness. He’s incredibly handsome. And he takes my breath.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks.
I look down at my body and then back to him. “Um. Getting dressed.”
He runs his hands down my shoulders. “Don’t leave tonight. Please.” There’s something gentle in his tone that makes it to his eyes, and it does something to my chest.
“I…” My voice strangles to admit it. “I don’t want to.”
His lips tic and he kisses my cheek. “Then stay. Text your friend so she doesn’t worry about you again.”
I smile at the thoughtfulness but don’t say anything.
Jolie: Don’t wait up. I’m being held hostage by the sexiest sex god.
Scarlett: I’ll make the bed when I leave.
He hands me a bottled beer and pulls me down on the couch beside him. “Are you hungry? Want to watch a movie?”
His words are rigid, nothing compared to the boldness of his words earlier. It’s clear he’s off kilter and it makes me giggle. “Something tells me you’re out of your element.”
He watches me as he takes a pull of his beer and then nods. “Very. But I like it.”
Chapter 11
What’s better than fucking a woman who blows the hell out of your mind? Doing it multiple times and having her finally scream your name. That was music to my ears, my victorious moment. My winning trophy of the year. It didn’t take long for us to start messing around on the couch. I love the way she kisses, the way her little sighs squeezes my chest, the way her hands roam my body and then hold on to me as if I’m her lifeline.
I enjoy our conversations, too. The ones we have in between fucking and kissing. Her sarcastic wit turns me on. Most other women have dry humor and are scared to say anything silly in fear of having a good time. Most will agree with me just to be agreeing in fear of pissing me off. But not Jolie. She tells it like it is and I fucking love it.
I’ve been watching her sleep for twenty minutes, studying her serene features. Blonde and purple strands feathered across her cheek hide most of her right eye. Her lips rest without her beautiful smile. Her skin is smooth, flawless of any stress. She’s got the cutest nose with two small dimples at the tip.
She has the covers pulled up under her chin, snuggled into them. She was cuddled into my side most of the night and I’m afraid to admit just how much I enjoyed it. I’ve been fighting off the urge to wake her, but since I kept her up until three in the morning, blowing our minds, I figured I’d be polite and fight my cock to stay put.
My phone rings unexpectedly, scaring the shit out of me, and I jerk up.
“Hello?” I answer quietly without checking to see who it is and scramble to find shorts so I can get out of the room without disturbing my sleeping beauty.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” Mom croons.
She may not be able to see me, but something about being on the phone with your mom and being naked is disturbing. I sit on the side of the bed and cover my dick.
“Hey, Mom. Everything alright?”