If You Want Me (The Toronto Terror Series)

It’s really happening. This is really happening. I finally, finally got to put my hands on Hollis. The feel of him in my hand, the look on his face, the sounds he made, the incredible rush that came from knowing I was the reason—I made him feel that way. I pushed him over the edge. And now we’re going to get naked together and shower. And then we’re going to have sex. Fuck? Maybe have sex and fuck. Hopefully. I feel like both are possible with Hollis.

I pull my shirt over my head and wipe my hand on the fabric. Hollis’s gaze drops to my bare chest. And suddenly his hands are on me, caressing, squeezing. He drops his head and covers the tight peak with his mouth. His lips are soft, his tongue warm and wet as he laves my nipple. And then his teeth sink in and he sucks, hard.

I spear my hand into his hair and grip the satiny strands, as if I’ll actually be able to keep him there. His fingers circle my wrist, finding the pressure point that makes me loosen my grip.

He kisses my nipple, then bites the swell again, like he can’t help himself. Hollis straightens, eyes hooded. He points toward my bedroom. “Into the shower with you.”

My knees go weak at the fire in his eyes. Nervous excitement makes my mouth dry and my palms and panties damp. I’ve fantasized about this countless times, thought about being with him this way. And now he’s here. And he wants me the same way I want him. I rush across the apartment, and Hollis follows at a leisurely stroll, tucking his erection into his boxer briefs on the way.

I disappear into the bathroom and turn on the shower. Mine isn’t nearly as awesome, hence the reason I used his. This one has two wall jets, but the placement isn’t ideal. It does have a removable showerhead, though. I turn on the water and adjust the temperature. Then I get to work on unbuttoning my jeans with unsteady hands.

Hollis steps up and covers them. His expression is intense, eyes brimming with need. “I’ll do that.”

This is what’s been missing. He is what I’ve been missing. Hollis knows exactly what he’s doing. More than that, he knows me. He can read me. He’s commanding but gentle as he moves my hands aside. Completely in control.

It’s one thing to get myself off in his shower while he’s watching on the kitty cam, but this is so different. The walls are down between us. At least for now. It’s part of the reason I wanted to wait until after to talk. I’d rather be in the dark if he doesn’t want the same thing I do. I can hold on to the fantasy of us a little longer.

I push those thoughts aside. I want to stay in the moment. I want to remember every second of this first with him.

“Hey.” Hollis cups my face in his wide palm. “Just say the word, and I’ll stop. If I do something you don’t like, you tell me, okay?”

I nod. I trust him implicitly, with my heart, with my body. “Can you kiss me, please?”

“Of course.” His lips brush over mine. Soft, sweet.

I move closer until we’re skin to skin from the waist up. He keeps one hand on my cheek and the other snakes around my waist. I sink into the kiss, into the feel of his arm wrapped possessively around me, his body pressed against mine.

“Show me what happens when I’m not here to take care of you,” he says when we break.

His fingers dip into the waistband of my jeans, and he pops the button, tugging the zipper down. He skims the edge of my blue lace panties. They’re the same color as his team jersey. Which also happens to be his favorite color.

“These are pretty.” He sinks to the floor on his good knee and tugs my jeans over my hips and down my thighs. “Let’s hope they survive me.”

My heart is at risk of beating out of my chest. I’ve worn a bathing suit in front of him plenty of times, but being undressed by him is intimate. He’s never looked at me this way before; like he wants to cherish me and devour me at the same time.

I brace a shaking hand on his shoulder and lift my foot so he can slide one leg out and then the other. Then he takes off my socks, leaving me in only panties.

He runs his hand from my ankle to my hip, fingers drifting along the waistband. “Would you like me to take these off for you, Princess?”

I’m shaking with anticipation. “Please.”

He hooks his fingers into the fabric at each hip and slowly drags it down my thighs, eyes never leaving mine. I step out of my panties, which are so unreasonably damp it’s almost embarrassing. All he’s done so far is kiss me and suck my nipple.

Without looking down, he leans in and presses a kiss at the apex of my thighs.

I’m pretty sure I’ll spontaneously combust before we even get to the sex part. His hands move to my hips, eyes falling closed as he inhales deeply. Is he steadying himself? Breathing me in? Trying not to take me to the floor? It’s incredibly humbling to have this huge, intimidating man on his knees for me. I run a trembling hand through his hair, grounding myself as I wait to see what he does next.

He rises slowly, lips dragging over my stomach, between my breasts, and along the column of my throat until he’s looming over me, eyes dark with lust. My hand, which has been fisting his hair, loosens and falls to his shoulder. My legs are halfway to giving out. My breathing is as unsteady as the rest of me.

But I can’t look away. He’s so gorgeous, and fierce, and he looks like he wants to eat me alive.

The hand on my right hip moves inward, and I stop breathing. The backs of his fingers sweep over my bare skin, and then his index finger slides between my folds. I’m so wet. So ready for him. I moan—wantonly, unabashedly, loudly.

His mouth curls up in a salacious smile that makes my already weak knees quake and my clit ache. He withdraws his fingers, and I latch on to his wrist. “No, no, please!”

His other hand cups my cheek. “Shower first, then I’ll take care of you.” He kisses me chastely and gives me an expectant look.

“I should help you out of these.” I tug at the loop on his jeans.

“If you’d like.” His other hand rises, and his eyes stay fixed on mine as he licks his index finger and hums with approval.

I’m so out of my depth, totally in over my head. I can’t decide if I’m more likely to faint, spontaneously come, or turn into a puddle. I fight to steady my hands as I shimmy his jeans over his hockey butt and push them down his thighs.

I drop to my knees on the cold tile and carefully pull them past his wrapped knee. He steps out of one leg and braces his hand on the shower behind me as he does the same with his non-injured leg. And then he’s in nothing but boxer shorts and the bandage around his knee meant to stabilize it.

“Should I remove this?” I settle my hand above the bandage.

“I can do it,” he says.

“Let me, please.” I find the Velcro on the side and gently peel it away. The stitches from surgery have already dissolved, so only a few small red spots mark the incisions.

Once the bandage is removed, I tuck my fingers into his waistband and carefully free his reawakening cock before dragging the boxers down his thighs. He steps out and kicks them aside. I’m at eye-level with his penis. If I lean forward, I can nuzzle it, or kiss it, or suck it. My thoughts must be written on my face, because he bends and slides his hands under my arms, lifting me to my feet. “I’ll keep that sweet mouth of yours busy later.”

He opens the shower door, and I put my hand under the spray, testing the water before I step in. Hollis follows me and closes the door. Steam billows around us as water cascades over his chest and down his abs. I run my hands over his shoulders and down his inked arm, and then we’re kissing, slick bodies pressed against each other. His erection swells against my stomach, and I roll my hips, wanting more, wanting his hands all over me, fingers inside me, tongue on my skin.

He pulls back, eyeing my face before he taps the jet on the wall. “I can see why you prefer my shower.”

“My showerhead does the job.”

“But it’s more work,” he notes. “So I should help.”

He squirts some of my body wash into his palm and rubs his hands together, creating suds. And then his hands are on the move, sliding down my arms and up my ribs, skimming the undersides of my breasts and smoothing down my back, squeezing my ass before he spins me around, my back to his chest. He turns the rain showerhead toward the back wall and slides the door open. The fan is on in the bathroom, so the mirror is mostly fog free.

I stare at our reflection across the room, and it’s like I’m seeing myself for the first time. Hollis is six-three and I’m nearly five-nine, so the top of my head reaches his chin. But he’s so broad and thick and so intensely gorgeous, he takes my breath away. His soapy hand eases up my stomach, the tattoos on his biceps rippling as he cups my breast. He kisses a path up my neck. “The number of times I fucked my hand to the image of you naked in my shower is obscene.”

“The number of times I fucked myself with my vibrator in your bed last week was equally obscene.”

“I know. I watched the videos before I deleted them.” He reaches for the detachable showerhead. “Now show me.”

His admissions give me courage, as does the hot, expectant look on his face. I spread my legs and lean against him, letting my head rest against his chest as I guide the showerhead between my thighs. It only takes a few seconds to find the spot that makes my eyes roll up and my knees wobbly.

“That’s it, Princess.” Hollis’s arm tightens around my waist, and his lips move along my neck, nipping, kissing. “I’ve got you.”

He toys with my nipple with the other hand, rolling the stiff peak, tugging, pinching. And all the while, I watch our reflections in the mirror while he watches me. My belly flutters, every muscle tightening as sensation builds, radiating through me. And Hollis murmurs hot words of encouragement, telling me I’m gorgeous, that he loves watching me come. When my body starts to shake and my coordination suffers, he takes over, keeping the pressure where I need it. As the orgasm rushes through me, he takes almost all my weight, his arm wrapped tightly around me, his lips on my neck. When the shaking subsides, he carefully sets the showerhead back in the holder and waits until my legs remember how to do their job before he turns me around and takes my mouth in another bone-melting kiss.

I can’t get close enough, can’t get enough of his hands on me, of mine on him. “Please, Hollis.”

He takes my face in his hands, molten gaze roving over me. “Please what?”

“Take me to bed.” My stomach is full of butterflies. I want all of him. Every part, even the one I won’t admit aloud. Especially that.

He turns off the shower and grabs a towel, drying me off, then himself. He’s hard again, thick and ready, and all I want is to know what it feels like to have him inside me. Grabbing his hand, I pull him into my bedroom. I can’t get there fast enough, half afraid he’ll change his mind about this. About us. About me.

I riffle through the condoms in my nightstand drawer. The one on top is glow in the dark—it must have been the Halloween theme or something. I pick a different one, and when I turn around, Hollis is standing behind me.

He takes the foil packet and kisses me softly. “It’s okay if you’re not ready for this.”

“I’m ready.” I want this with a ferocity that verges on desperation. If his guilt takes over and this is the only time I get him, I want to make the most of it.

“If that changes, you say the word, Princess,” he murmurs.

“It won’t.”

A faint smile appears, and then he kisses me breathless before he lifts me onto the bed. I slide back as he joins me.

“Lie down for me, Princess.”

“But shouldn’t I be on top?” I wish I wasn’t so nervous.

An amused grin curves his lips, and his eyes heat. “We’ll see.” His gaze shifts to the pillow, a silent command.

I love that he can say so much without uttering a word. I stretch out on the cool sheets, cheeks heating as he strokes himself lazily while he looks over my naked body. He stretches out beside me and drags a single finger along my jaw, down my cheek, over my chest, circling a nipple before continuing his descent. “So many things I want to do to you.” His tongue sweeps across his bottom lip. “For you.”

And then his mouth is on mine, lips soft and sure as his fingers drift lower. I part my legs automatically and he strokes me, circling my clit once before he slides a finger inside. He pulls back, eyes hooded with lust. I whimper as he withdraws his finger, then moan when he slips it between his lips and makes a guttural sound. “Will you let me taste you?”

I nod and manage to whisper, “Yes, please.”

He edges his good knee between my legs and props himself up on his forearm, looming over me. His lips brush mine, and then he starts the descent, kissing his way down my neck, pausing at the sensitive spot along my collarbone before he nibbles his way over the swell of my breast. He sucks one nipple, then the other, teasing me with his tongue and making me gasp when he uses teeth. He gives attention to every sensitive spot on his way down. “So fucking beautiful.” He settles between my thighs. “Every part of you.” He kisses the inside of my thigh and then his tongue sweeps up the juncture—close, but not to where I want his mouth.

And I love it. Love the sure way he touches me, love the feel of his calloused but gentle hands pushing my legs wide, of the softness of his mouth as he explores. He teases me with nips of teeth and soft kisses. His tongue is wet velvet between my thighs, taking me higher, spinning me into orbit. I thread my hands through his hair, unable to tear my gaze from the sight of him with his arms looped around my thighs, holding them open as he French kisses my clit. He licks me up and down, teasing me. Every nerve ending is alive with the heat of his mouth.

His rough palms slide along the backs of my thighs, thumbs hooked into the bend in my knees as he pushes them toward my chest, spreading me wider. His expression is deliciously carnal as he sucks my clit, then drags his tongue through my wetness, fucking me with it before he goes lower. The heat of his tongue causes my breath to catch. No one had ever touched me there, let alone how Hollis is touching me.

“Oh my God, what are you doing?” Even as my cheeks burst with color, unexpected heat floods my center.This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

“Eating your sweet ass.” He licks at my hole again and I whimper at the sensation. I’ve never felt more exposed or wanted. His tongue wipes and swipes at me, swirling before he moves from my clit all the way back again.

“But—”

My protest dies at the hot feel of his tongue pressing against me, awakening a whole new desire.

“Keep your knees to your chest,” he orders.

I quickly hook my arm under them, and he chuckles. “So fucking eager to get your ass eaten, aren’t you, my naughty little Princess?”

I nod and bite my lip, then groan when his teeth sink into my ass, followed by a soft kiss. “That makes two of us.” He shifts one hand so he can strum my clit, while he alternates tongue-fucking with rimming my asshole. “I will be the only one to touch you here.” It’s dirty, and hot, and feels so unexpectedly good to feel him fucking me like this.

I’m nearly gasping as he changes position. His rough hands hold me as my legs start to shake. My heart races as his tongue finds every way to bring me pleasure. His fingers penetrate me, sliding in easily. He drags some of my juices down before slicking a thick finger into my ass. I feel the fullness as he moves deeper to his knuckle, pulling back before pushing it in more.

Every thud of my heartbeat is in time with the spasms that have me clenching around his tongue in my pussy, my ass trying to pull his finger deeper. I come so hard the world is a wash of stars.

And then his gorgeous face is right in front of mine, and his huge body is stretched out over me. He frames my face with his hands. “God help me, I want you. I’ll be right back.”

I stroke his cheek with shaking fingers. Desire makes my body electric. “Please, Hollis. I need you.”

“I need you too, Princess.” He kisses the end of my nose. “But hold that thought for just a second.” He rolls off the bed in one smooth motion and disappears into my bathroom. The faucet turns on and I bite back a smile. I can’t believe that just happened. He returns a minute later, nabs the condom from the nightstand, tears open the package, and rolls it down his length.

Anticipation makes it hard to breathe as he fits himself between my thighs. I want him so much, want to be connected to him in the most primal, intimate way, and I’m terrified I won’t be what he needs. I’m already in so deep. Completely head over heels for him.

“Hey.” He caresses my cheek, his breath is cool mint on my skin. “Stay right here, with me.”

I nod and set my palm against the side of his neck, his pulse hammering under the skin.

“You tell me what you need and how you need it, okay?” he murmurs.

“You, just you.” He’s all I want. This is all I want.

He reaches between us and drags the head over my clit, sliding lower until he nudges my entrance. Our gazes hold as he pushes in, slowly, gently, stretching me, filling me an inch at a time until his hips rest in the cradle of mine. “You okay, Princess?”

I nod. The intimacy of it is overwhelming, but I can’t look away. I exhale a shuddering breath, already on the edge of something. “You feel so good.” So right.

“Like perfection,” he murmurs.

“This feels different.” It’s not a fumbling first time. There’s no awkwardness. I don’t want to close my eyes to escape his gaze. If anything, I want to drown in the emotions swimming behind his eyes. I run my hands through his hair and down the sides of his neck, addicted to the feel of him. “I just…I can’t get close enough? And this is…more?” I feel like I’m connected to him beyond the physical. It’s as though everything I feel for and about Hollis is winding around us, through us. Like he’s sifting through my emotions and urging them to surface.

His smile softens, and he sweeps his thumb along my bottom lip. “It is more.”

My fingers coast down his back, over straining muscles as I luxuriate in the fullness and the weight of his body over mine. In the feel of being surrounded by him, of surrounding him. When I reach his ass, I squeeze.

“I need to start moving,” he murmurs.

“Please.”

He pulls his hips back, and I groan at the loss. It only lasts a moment, but it feels endlessly tragic until he pushes back in. Each stroke is slow, measured, taking me higher. His hand eases down my thigh, catching in the crook of my knee. He hooks it over his hip, changing his angle and deepening his thrust. I do the same with the other leg, locking my feet at the small of his back, my whole body wrapped around him.

I don’t need to tell him what I need or want, because he already seems to know. “It feels so good, Hollis.” We’ve hardly even started, and it’s already the best sex of my life. It’s everything I wanted it to be and so much more.

“You’re fucking perfect, Princess.” He brushes his lips over mine. “You were made for me.”

Those words settle in my chest, all the months of uncertainty melting away with his conviction. In this moment I feel healed. Whole. Like he’s where I belong.

He moves over me, hips rolling, eyes never leaving mine. He murmurs words of praise, telling me I’m his. That he’ll never get enough of me.

I want it to be true. It feels like it is—like he’s the missing piece, and now I’m finally whole. I want this to last forever, to stay in this bubble with him, where we fit together perfectly and nothing can come between us. Where I’m enough. Worth the risk.

I’m so hopelessly, helplessly in love with him. I’ll never want someone else the way I want him, with every fiber of my being, with my entire heart.

The orgasm washes over me, not a crashing wave, but one that drags me down and keeps me swirling in interminable bliss. Hollis’s strokes grow erratic, and he pushes in deep and stills, a low, desperate groan vibrating against my lips.

I swear I see everything I feel for him echoed in his eyes. Like we’re finally on the same page.

He rolls us over in one smooth motion, still inside me, and I lie on top of him, our bodies slick with sweat. I rest my cheek on his chest, forehead pressed against the side of his neck. His arms come around me, and his lips find my temple.

Fear slithers down my spine. What if the guilt hits him? What if he thinks this was a mistake? What if he shuts me out?

His finger drifts along the edge of my jaw, and he lifts my chin. Anxiety makes my stomach clench. He’s still inside me. What if I see something I don’t want to in his eyes? What if the best sex of my life becomes the worst?

He kisses me softly. “Hi, beautiful.”

“Hi.” I’m suddenly shy and uncertain.

“I think we might need another shower.”

I laugh, relieved, as I take in the warm expression on his gorgeous face. No regret. No guilt. Just contentment that echoes in my chest. “And a glass of water.”

“I’d prefer a beer. And maybe a snack. And then I’d like to get you back into this bed and keep you here for the rest of the day, minus the occasional break to refuel.”

I smile and duck my head. “I was okay?”

His eyes flare, and he shifts, sitting up and taking me with him. He waits until my gaze meets his. “Okay is never a word I would use to describe you. I have been fighting this since January, and not just because of the attraction we share, Aurora. It’s so much more than that. This, you and me, what’s happening here.” He pauses, shakes his head, and presses his lips to mine. “You are incredible. That was incredible. For me, anyway.”

“For me, too.” I finally understand what the phrase making love means. Because that’s what it felt like, being filled with his love. But I don’t tell him that, too afraid to admit those feelings. Maybe I’m overwhelmed by lust and how good the sex was.

He kisses me one last time. “Shower, snack, and cuddle, and then back to bed?”

“Sounds perfect.”