Root (Band Nerd Book 2) Page 13

  But just like every other time we kiss, it doesn’t stay sweet for long. No, the chemistry between us ignites the longer our mouths are pressed together and, before I know it, we’re kissing as though it’s our last day on Earth. His hands flex on my butt. My fingers tug at his hair. Our tongues duel, tangling and retreating. His breath becomes mine and mine his until I’m dizzy with it.

  Something bumps the backs of my legs and I go down, but Anders catches me, lowering me to my bed with a little more grace. His big, sturdy body follows, aligning with mine, most of his weight angled to the right side, but I barely notice, that hard bar of flesh digging into my hip leaving me breathless. He wants me. Me. No one else.

  The kiss goes on forever, but that isn’t all. Oh no. It’s as though his confession opens a floodgate of lust. Our hands explore. He cups my breast in his big hand, his fingers plucking at my nipple through my clothes, the small pinch ricocheting through my entire body. I grip his big biceps, kneading the muscles like a kitten.

  “Anders,” I gasp into his mouth, my legs moving restlessly. “Oh god.”

  “I want you,” he murmurs, repeating that pinching roll. My inner channel aches and quivers. “I want to touch you all over.”

  “Yes,” I moan. “I want that too.”

  Somehow, some way, his shirt comes off. It’s the first time I’ve seen him without it and I’m pretty sure my eyes are bulging out of my head. He’s big. I knew he was big, but seeing him shirtless, all those heavy, round muscles flexing with every move of his body, I’m speechless. And I come. Not a lot. Not like with porn star moans or anything, but the quivering between my legs becomes a spasm of pleasure that leaves me a lot wetter.

  Feasting my gaze on his solid torso, I’m barely aware of the top of my dress gaping. My hands stroke all of his satiny skin, finding his flat nipples and listening to the way his breath hitches when I pinch them.

  “Lena,” he groans, his hips grinding into mine. “God, this is going to end a lot faster than I want it to if you keep doing that.”

  “Do you want me to stop?” I ask, wondering who this sly vixen is who’s taken over my body. My voice is husky, the words full of sexual teasing as though I’m experienced.

  Lightly raking my fingernails over his chest, down the hard slabs of muscle that make up his stomach, I watch his pupils expand until his eyes are more black than blue. Then his hand tugs at my bra, pulling the cup down. Cool air washes over my nipple. I wasn’t even aware of him opening my dress, but I watch as his gaze goes from my face to my chest, his nostrils flaring.

  He looks at me, gauging my reaction as he lowers his mouth to lap at the eager, pink tip of my breast. That touch, like wet velvet against such sensitive skin, has me gasping. He does it again, his gaze never leaving my face as he laps at me, studying my every reaction as though saving it for future reference.

  I twist on my bed, the heavy ache in my womb returning with a vengeance. “Please,” I pant, my hands wandering all over whatever part of his body I can touch. When his lips close around me and suck, I arch my back, my eyes closing as that electric current zaps me again. “Anders!”

  His response is a deep rumble, his mouth playing with my nipple until I’m nothing more than a mass of ooey-gooey Lena Leblanc. But that’s before I feel his calloused palm sliding up my leg. I thought my muscles had given up on me, but I discover my thighs have springs because, as soon as his trailing fingers reach my inner thigh, my legs widen, inviting his touch to the wet flesh between. Shameless. That’s how he makes me feel. Shameless and ready to do everything, anything, as long as he’s with me.

  Anders releases my nipple, lifting himself over me as his fingers brush the damp fabric of my panties. We both suck in a sharp breath. My clit is swollen and his fingers found it, sending a zap of pleasure through me.

  “You’re so wet,” he whispers, his breathing ragged and harsh.

  I nod, unable to say a single word, my body his to play with, to learn.

  His fingers return, this time with more pressure, rubbing my clit through my panties, and I moan. It’s so much better than when I touch myself, and when he dips beneath the elastic band of my underwear to touch bare skin, it’s like being jolted with ten thousand volts of electricity.

  “Oh fuck, you’re so wet,” he says again, his voice strained as his fingers stroke my slit. “Oh fuck, Lena.”

  I don’t know what possesses me. The lust leaves me nothing more than a creature of sensation, but I grip his hair in my hand and drag his mouth down to mine just as one of his fingers breach my entrance. Both of us groan into each other’s mouths as he starts to pump into me.

  The sound of my wetness fills the air. I should be embarrassed, shy. I should be doing something to preserve my modesty, but what the hell is that anyway? It doesn’t sound like fun. Not the kind of fun that has Anders groaning and grinding against me, the thick bar of his erection rubbing against my hip in time with the thrust of his finger in my channel.

  My hips start moving, the muscles in my thighs flexing as I rise up into each pump, his thumb rubbing my clit. His mouth swallows my strangled moans, my whimpers of rising pleasure.

  The scent of my arousal is thick in the air as we strain together. My free hand slides down the center of his torso, finding the waistband of his jeans. I’m not conscious of anything but needing to bring him the same pleasure he’s giving me.

  I don’t know how it happened. Maybe my hand is possessed like Ash’s in Evil Dead 2, but somehow I manage to undo his jeans and dig his penis out of his boxers without meaning to. The instant I touch hot, silky skin, it’s as though everything goes still. Well, not everything because his finger doesn’t stop thrusting but he stops kissing me to gulp air, his head thrown back as though my hand on him is torture. I’m having trouble breathing as well, the problem not helped by the sight of him levered over me, the muscles in his arm flexing as he pleasures me.

  As though he senses me watching him, he lowers his head, his expression tight and intense. Trailing my gaze from his eyes, which burn with desire, I take my fill of him, the ropes of muscle, the light dusting of hair on his chest, stopping at the sight of my fingers touching the underside of his penis.

  “Oh.” The sound is part pleasure from the nerve endings his finger hits, part shocked awe. Wow. Like, seriously wow.

  He’s a lot bigger than my vibrator. Heavy veins run down the length, the skin is flushed a deep red.

  “Fuck, Lena,” he groans, giving his hand a twist that hits something that snaps me out of my trance. My penis trance. “I’m gonna come just from you looking at me.”

  He adds another finger on the next thrust, stretching me more, and my fingers curl around his shaft reflexively. Well, I say they went all the way around, but it was more like most of the way, my fingers not meeting on the other side.

  Anders’ head lowers until our foreheads are touching, our breathing ragged. “Stroke me,” he commands in a hoarse voice, his hips bucking so his erection slides through my hold.

  We writhe together, our hands working each other into a frenzy. Sweat collects on my face, between my breasts, and I’m nearly hyperventilating from the need to come, but I don’t want to stop. I can’t. I’m almost there. And Anders is… Leaking all over my hand, which has begun to move faster and faster, just as his has.

  I’m so wet, I feel moisture sliding between the cheeks of my butt. Yet as much as I’m enjoying the friction, I need just a little… He adds a third finger, the fit tight, the stretch a slight burn that pops my eyes open. Anders is staring down at me, his forehead gleaming with sweat, his teeth clenched tightly, the veins on his neck standing out as he curls his fingers inside me.

  “Anders!” I squeak, as the invisible band holding my orgasm back snaps.

  I come. No, that just makes it sound as though this was an orgasm I’d given myself, one of those ho-hum-that-will-do jobs, when it’s anything but. I swear my heart wants to explode from the intensity of my body reaching optimum pleasure. I spaz. T
hat’s really the only way to describe it. I have no control over what my muscles do as I sort of flop around like a fish out of water.

  I do know that my hips jerk, seeking out a deeper connection with his fingers, my inner channel going waaay passed the fluttering stage and going straight to strangulation stage. Meanwhile, the hand wrapped around Anders’ thick length starts moving at a pace all its own, but one he obviously approves of because seconds later, he lets out a strangled shout as something warm covers my hand, hip, part of my belly, and Anders’ stomach.

  As one, we sort of deflate into each other. Or rather, I sink into the mattress and Anders falls half on top of me, his heavy weight pinning me in place. Neither of us have moved our hands, which is interesting as his penis deflates in my palm. But it feels… Right. Perfect.

  And when he nuzzles my cheek, rooting until he finds my lips to kiss me, I know it is perfect. It’s perfectly us.

  Anders

  I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to walk or talk again. Fuck, I can barely breathe and I’m in peak physical condition, but all it took was for Lena’s soft hand to jerk me off for me to lose all motor skills. I’m probably crushing my girl, but again, I can’t move.

  Not that she’s asking me to. With her tits pressed against me, my fingers still buried in her wet, tight pussy, she’s having as much trouble catching her breath as I am. Kissing her is about all I can do, and when she returns it I know she feels the same. With the hunger appeased for the moment, our kisses are gentle and tender. Thankful. Loving.

  I don’t want to move, but I’ve made a mess of us, my cum cooling and sticking. Not romantic at fucking all. Not to mention, if I keep my fingers in her any longer, it’ll just remind my dick that it didn’t make it anywhere near heaven. Which is good. I don’t have condoms and I don’t know that she’s ready for that yet.

  With a whole helluva lot of reluctance, I slide my fingers from her body. Lena lets out a moaning sigh that almost has me diving right back in, but no. I need to do this shit right. Take care of my girl, then cuddle the fuck out of her. Her hand falls away from my dick and we just lay there, our breathing slowly coming back under our control.

  “Are you okay?” I ask. To be honest, I don’t want to move and I don’t know what else to say.

  Lena lets out a little giggle that has me lifting my head. Her cheeks are flushed from her orgasm, her eyes closed, but she opens them to look at me and the breath I just got back catches in my throat.

  “I’m perfect,” she whispers, her cheeks growing rosier by the second. Then she bites her lip, some of her euphoria fading. “Um. How about…? Was it okay?”

  Diving down, I take her lips in a hard kiss filled with my happiness. When I pull back again, she’s breathless. “You’re right, you were perfect.” I kiss her again before moving away. “I’m gonna clean us up, okay?”

  She’s back to biting her lip, but she nods. Leaving her on that bed is damn near impossible, especially when I stand and get a much better look at her. She hasn’t covered herself and she looks wanton. Erotic. Her dress somehow ended up around her waist, the cups of her bra pulled down to bare her tits to my eager eyes, while the bottom half shows her panties, the crotch soaked from her arousal, the waistband damp from my cum.

  Lena twists under my gaze, rolling to her side, dragging my attention from the scrap of fabric hiding her pussy from me. I blink and shake my head, meeting her wide-eyed gaze. That’s when I realize I’ve been staring at her with my dick hanging out, hardening as though it hadn’t just spewed all over both of us. I probably look like a fucking pervert. Hurrying to tuck my shit away, I turn away to give her some privacy.

  “Sorry,” I mumble. “I… You… Fuck, you’re so hot.” Yeah, good going, De Groot. “I’ll be right back.”

  I need to get away from her, get myself back under control before I jump her again. Closing the bathroom door, I lean against it and rub my face. Her scent… Oh fuck, it’s all over my hand; sweet, musky…delicious. Realizing I’m sniffing my fingers like the perv I’m trying not to be, I hurry to the sink and wash my hands.

  Looking around, I don’t see her hand towels. I’ve never really dug around in Lena’s stuff before, never had any reason to, so I’m a little nervous when I lean over to open the cabinet beneath the sink. There’s feminine things in there, which is to be expected. I may not have had much experience with girls, but I don’t faint when I see the box of tampons.

  The hand towels are where I expected them to be and I snag one, knocking something over in the cabinet. Shit. Crouching down to pick it back up, I try not to see what it is. I don’t want her to think I’m snooping or anything. I know there are people who do that shit; go through other people’s medicine cabinets and all, but that’s not me. Except when I lift the box, I read quite clearly, the word, “Trojan” and stop dead.

  Yes, I did what I said I wouldn’t do and pulled out the box of condoms, which has been opened and has several rubbers missing. My stomach sinks. I… I don’t know what to think as I stare at the black box that reads, “Magnum”. She lied to me is the first thought, but she never told me she was a virgin either. Maybe they belong to someone else? But she lives alone. It just makes no sense.

  “Anders?” she asks on the other side of the door with a soft knock. “Is everything okay?”

  Looking down at the box in my hand, I know I need to just ask her instead of making assumptions. If she’s been with someone else… Well, she wasn’t with them now. And there’s nothing stopping us from having full-on sex. Except my size, although if the condoms are any indication, maybe it wouldn’t be such a problem after all. Still, it doesn’t stop the possessiveness I feel for her from coming forward. I don’t have the experience she does, but I’m damn well going to make up for it now.

  Sucking in a deep, calming breath that does fuck all for the testosterone pumping through my system, I open the door. Lena stands on the other side, her clothes fixed, but her lips are puffy from my kisses, her cheeks still flushed, and her hair all wild from the thrashing she did on the bed.

  “Is everything o—” she starts to ask again, when her gaze goes to the box I hold up for her to see. Her face explodes with color and her eyes go wide. “I-I can explain,” she stammers.

  My dick is hard again. Not from her obvious embarrassment, but because it’s Lena and I want her more than my next breath. “Think I can figure it out,” I mumble as I step forward.

  She steps back, her gaze flitting from the box to my face. “I read that they’re better, for… You know,” she says as I start stalking her back to the bed. “It makes cleanup easier and I didn’t know what size to buy, so I got those and they work well enough.”

  If I thought she was scared, I’d stop, but there’s no mistaking the way her nipples stand out against her dress, or her rapidly dilating eyes. I don’t know what expression I have on my face, but whatever it is, turns her on.

  “Okay,” I say as her legs bump against the bed, her momentum causing her to sit on the edge. “They should fit.”

  Her wide-eyed gaze drops from my face to my groin, the bulge pressing against my fly obvious and causing her breath to hitch. “F-Fit?” she says, her tongue darting out to dampen her lips.

  I drop the box on the mattress next to her and lean forward, forcing her back, back, back until she’s flat on the bed with me hovering over her. “Yeah, they should fit me,” I whisper.

  Then I kiss her. Hopefully my hard as fuck climax only a few minutes ago will make sure I last longer this time, because there’s no way I’m stopping now. Well, not unless she wants me to, but it’s my job to make her not want to.

  Lena

  I shouldn’t want him again so soon, especially after he found my stash of condoms. How he knew I used them on my vibrators is anyone’s guess since my B.O.B.’s are stored in my nightstand, but with his mouth rekindling the blaze of desire, I don’t really care. God, it was so hot when he stalked me across my small apartment, his eyes dark with hunger and possessiv
eness, his penis hard again.

  At that moment he presses it against my mound, fitting our bodies together, and I gasp into his mouth. I didn’t even realize I’d wrapped my legs around his hips but they’re there, my heels digging into the backs of his thighs as though I could force his erection out of his jeans and into my vagina through our clothing. He grinds against me, nice and slow, as his tongue darts into my mouth at the same sensual pace.

  I moan, clutching his shoulders, rubbing back against him. I should be out for the count, sleeping the sleep of the well-satisfied after that orgasm he gave me, but it’s as though it never happened, I’m that hungry for him. He rumbles deep in his chest, the sound vibrating through me, turning me on even more.

  We tear at each other’s clothes. I know I have to be scratching him, but he doesn’t flinch. If anything, it encourages him. Seams rip—mine or his, I don’t know and don’t care—material flies, and he moves away only long enough to drop his jeans and boxers on the floor next to my bed. Then it’s skin on skin.

  That first brush of his naked hips along my inner thighs causes us both to freeze, for breath to hitch. His face is so close, I feel his rapid breaths against my lips, our eyes inches apart.

  “Are you sure?” he whispers, shocking me with his restraint. I feel his big body trembling with his need, his erection hard against my leg. He reaches up to brush hair off of my face, his palm cupping my cheek. “Lena, baby, I need to know if this is what you want.”

  His tenderness is more than I could’ve ever hoped for in my first lover. My first love. I reciprocate his caress, stroking my fingers over his jaw. His eyelids droop as though the pleasure of such a simple touch is too much to bear. “I’m sure,” I whisper, drawing my fingers across his strong chin. “I want you, Anders.”