Page 12 of Romanced By the Rat
Chapter eight
Charlotte
“Why would I invite him here?” It’s probably the hundredth time I’ve asked myself this question, and yet I still don’t have a great answer. My place is a mess, which is very unlike me. Of course, Jeremy will understand. I just moved here and haven’t had the time to unpack. Plus, the flimsy, cheap furniture I ordered online is a lot harder to set up than I anticipated. Maybe Jeremy will offer to help me, but that would be horrible, because I don’t want him focused on my dresser with a strange Swedish name, I want him focused on me.
Jeremy is one of the most confusing men I’ve ever met—which isn’t saying a lot since I haven’t met lots of men—but I can’t help being thrilled by whatever version of him I’ll get. One second, he’s nervous, and I can’t tell if he wants to run away from me or not, and the next, he stares deep into my eyes and makes me feel seen and wanted. It’s almost like he’s two different men, fighting for one body. I can’t say the uncertainty of who I’ll get doesn’t thrill me.
Yesterday’s date went way too far. I know nothing about this man and yet I rubbed myself against him, practically begging him to pull me to the stone floor and fuck me under the waterfall. This is probably a normal reaction. I’ve spent my whole life sheltered and my first chance of freedom makes me want to do all the naughty things I’ve never gotten to do.
Jeremy is a sweet guy. I trust him enough in my apartment. A fuck to clear my head wouldn’t be the worst idea. My mind is so clouded by his looks that I can’t decide if he’s actually a guy I’d want to date or not. Once we bang it out, I’ll be able to assess properly.
I should have made dinner, but I figured ordering Chinese would be enough, considering my plans don’t revolve around eating. The doorbell rings just as I pull out the last cardboard carton and place it on my kitchen table. I check my hair for the millionth time in the mirror in the front entryway and blow out my nerves before pulling open the door. “Hi,” I say, taking in the man before me, just as gorgeous as the day before. In fact, there’s a lot about his appearance that’s similar to yesterday. He wears a different shirt, a baby blue, linen button-down that brings out the otherworldly hue of his eyes. I’m pretty sure his hat is exactly the same.
“Hi,” he replies, handing me a bouquet of roughly cut wildflowers. “These are for you.”
I blush. “Thank you.” He really is the sweetest. Maybe this could be more than a simple lay. I don’t want to get my hopes up. It’s much too soon to tell.
We stand awkwardly in the threshold. His eyes track aimlessly in his skull as if decoding a message. It’s me who’s weird, though. “Oh, I’m sorry! Come on in.” I motion toward the small one-bedroom apartment behind me. I’m lucky to find such a good place, and conveniently, it’s located right above For the Plot Books—one of my favorite places—and only a short walk toRatcliff’s. But right now, I’m feeling self-conscious of how small it is, not to mention the mess.
“Sorry. I haven’t had time to unpack. All that I’ve needed is my desk to work and my bed.” I laugh nervously.
Jeremy walks in, examining the place. “No, don’t worry. It’s all organized chaos. I like it. I’d love to help you unpack.” He turns back to me, smiling—it’s adorable—with his hands on his hips.
God, I can’t take it anymore. I must get him out of his clothes. I charge him and his eyes widen in shock for a moment, but once my lips meet his, he melts into me, running his big strong hands up my back. I push my tongue into his mouth, eager to taste him again. Yesterday wasn’t nearly enough. I came home from our date and masturbated as if it was my first time in centuries. I couldn’t stop thinking about his hands on my breasts, his shallow breaths, his gruff words.
I reach for his buttons, working from the top, but he stops, pulling away from my lips. He laughs. “Are you sure you want to do this so fast? I can wait until after dinner if you want.”
“Fuck dinner. Maybe you can wait, but I can’t.” I push him into my bedroom. He laughs against my lips, holding me firmly, even as he falls against my bed. I straddle him, immediately caught off guard by his reverent look as he stares up at me. “You’re so beautiful,” he says. “I can’t believe a girl like you would want to do this with me.”
His words transform me into another person, someone who’s unafraid of their sexuality, someone who’s ready to scream their pleasure at the top of their lungs, be damned if the bookshop below can hear her. I grab the bottom of my cotton shirt, rolling it slowly over my abdomen, then my breasts, my eyes locked firmly on his. His pupils blow out, and I swear he murmurs soft praise to himself. Is this what it’s like to fuck without the confines of hurrying or fearing getting caught? It hasn’t even started yet, and I feel as if I’m already near my edge.
The air pricks my hardened nipples, begging for friction. I pull up Jeremy’s shirt and he leans forward, his abs flexing as he assists me in pulling his shirt overhead. God is he devastating—something like an ancient Greek statue, cut from marble. I want to lick every inch of his defined chest, his protruding abs, the perfect V pointing down to the part I’m most interested in.
Please don’t have a small dick,I plead in my head. He’s too perfect. Something has to be wrong. I just hope he has a shitty personality instead of it being anything with his body. Right now is purely carnal, regret for my wicked thoughts comes later.
I can’t take the anticipation anymore, I reach into his slacks, underneath his tight boxer briefs, and clasp around his hardened length, begging to be free.
“Fuck!” He moans, throwing his head back. My eyes shift from his beautiful face to his package as I release him. There must be a God and I must be one of his favorites, because his dick is perfect. Large—almost dangerously so—lined with veins and a shade of pink that matches his pouty lips. Speaking of lips, I can’t help but want to bring his dick to mine. I haven’t eaten after all, and my mouth yearns to be full. I must go slow, his tip already leaks with pre cum, and from the veins popping at the side of his neck and his clenched eyes—almost like he’s in pain—I figure he’s not far from his breaking point. Look at us, barely just beginning, and it’s already too much. We’re like two horny little teenagers.
I run my hands up his chiseled stomach as I bring my mouth to his searing heat, moaning as I roll my lips over him. He grabs the back of my head, massaging my scalp as I take him deeper. It feels so good that I can’t help but let my hands wander into the dampness underneath my skirt. My moans increase around his cock and his grip tightens, almost like a punishment, like I’m making things too difficult for him. I quiet, because I’m nothing if not a people pleaser. I don’t want him to finish in my mouth—even if I yearn for the powerful feeling of making him come so quickly. No, I want him balls deep, stretching me until I forget who I am. The only sounds are my mouth bopping up and down on his dick, and… it’s almost like a squeaking. It’s an odd sex noise, but it doesn’t turn me off, not even a little bit. I kind of like it.
Jeremy jerks me up by my hair. I pop off him, shocked and desperate for more. I don’t even have time to beg because he’s sitting up, his lips crashing against mine in an instant. He kisses me deeply, pulling me closer until I’m straddling his lap. His lips move away from my mouth, running down the side of my neck. One hand grabs my breast while the other reaches under my skirt. He runs his fingers through my seam, parting me, teasing me slightly, until he focuses on my clit. “No panties, just for me?” he says, less of a question, more like praise.
I throw my head back, letting him have his way with me. How does he know how to touch me so perfectly? It’s like someone’s whispering in his ear, informing him of my deepest desires. The squeaking happens again. It takes me out of it for a moment, and I realize he’s still wearing his baseball hat—the one he wore yesterday.
I know he isn’t bald. The first two times I saw him at the restaurant, his golden mop of hair beckoned me like a beacon from the gods. Maybe he’s just too caught up in the moment to take it off. His pressure increases on my sensitive bud, and my attention returns to the melted butter that is the insides of my body.
I position my hips up, spreading my legs wider and allowing him more access. He takes my lead, driving his finger into my entrance, all while continuing to massage my clit. It’s perfect. It’s exactly what I need, and in seconds, I’m screaming, clinging to him, jerking my hips as my orgasm washes over me in a beautiful burst of pleasure.
He barely lets the euphoria pass before flipping me back against the bed. He stops for a moment, reaching for his pants at the foot of the bed. I realize what he’s doing. “I’m on the pill,” I say, reaching for him, “And recently got tested.”
“Me too,” he says, exhaling, falling over me in an instant.
Just like that, I’m no longer sated. I reach between us, needing him inside me. He helps position himself at my entrance. I want him to pound into me, but I know it will hurt like a mother fucker if he does. It’s a pain I’m willing to bear, but as I pull myself down on him, using his shoulders as support, he stops me. His hand wraps around my throat. It isn’t rough or suffocating, but firm, growing softer as I stop moving and let him take the lead.
He slowly slides into me, stretching me to what I believe is my max with each tiny thrust. His hand doesn’t leave my neck, and his mouth trails kisses above his thumb. His thrusts grow deeper, and my need swells with each inch. Finally, after what feels like forever, he reaches his hilt. He pauses for a second, catching his breath. “You fit me so good,” he says against my skin.
“Fuck me hard,” I beg, and I only need to ask once. He pulls himself out, ramming against me in one fast pump. I cry out, my vision blurring, but it feels so good. “Yes, just like that.” I hold onto him, needing his sturdy frame to keep me on in this dimension. He loses himself, thrusting without restraint. He bursts inside of me, murmuring noises and nonsensical phrases. He must have fucked me silly, because as he allows part of his weight to fall against me and as we both sigh in contentment, I swear I hear three sighs.
