WARNING! READ THIS FIRST:
This Chapter is nothing but smut.
If you are not comfortable reading dime-store quality harlequin bodice ripping lemons with graphic cliche descriptions of hetero sex acts between two consenting adults SKIP THIS CHAPTER.
If you choose to skip this chapter, here's the PG version:
"Paige decides it's a great idea that her and Mike act like an amorous couple to fool the police. Things escalate quickly. They sleep together, and considering Paige has never had sex with a guy who actually cares about her before, she is left very overwhelmed and confused."
If you only go to the M-rated category for the sexy times, enjoy. Sorry it's taken so long to get here. And if you've skipped the first 13 chapters just to read this part WELCOME.
As always reviews and PMs are greatly appreciated. I love discussing these characters.
-J
Skinny Double Dirty Chai
Chapter 14
Paige's eyes dart around, calculating all the variables. It's just her and Mike. They are on a nearly deserted beach, and are both unarmed. They've run far enough, backup wouldn't even know where to find them.
There are local police officers walking up the nearly deserted coastline, questioning the few people they find along the way. These are not the type of professionals who would know who her and Mike are. They are glorified security guards at best. Mike and Paige could quickly end up in jail and risk blowing their cover.
From where she's crushed up against Mike's chest, she can only imagine what they look like; suspicious, burned, and tussled. She smells like she's taken a bath in chemicals and smoke, but somehow Mike still manages to smell clean, with a slight hint of sweet from the ether. The cops would know they were at that party in a second.
Their only hope is a small tent up the beach. Paige has a crazy plan. "Follow me."
Crawling into the small tent, Paige knows what Alice must have felt entering the Rabbit Hole. She knows this will turn her whole world upside down, but tells herself this plan will work. Mike follows her in and turns around to zip up the tent, leaving them completely alone together.
He's talking but she can't hear what he's saying with the blood pounding in her ears. He turns around to face her, and before she loses her nerve, she leans forward and presses her lips firmly to his. His whole body instantly freezes. She gently brushes her mouth against his, hoping he will get the idea. After a moment of hesitation, she feels his lips start responding to her.
For a minute they just kneel in front of each other, not touching, connected only by their lips. The two learning each other's patterns and tastes. Paige kisses men all the time, but this feels different. She feels a rush of butterflies in her stomach as his mouth moves softly against her own. This is new and it feels like a beginning.
One of his hand rests lightly on her waist and he tentatively brings the other up to cradle her face. He kisses her cautiously, like he's afraid of breaking her.
"Wait. Paige. What brought this on?"
His words barely penetrate her haze. She doesn't want to hear them. She wants his lips back against hers. She grabs the back of his head and pulls him back down to her eager mouth, hoping he will let it drop. When he slips his tongue between her lips, she whimpers appreciatively.
Their kisses are becoming deeper and more frenzied. Her fingers tangle in his hair and she can feel his hands running up and down her sides, as if he's trying to memorize every inch of her.
This is good, Paige thinks. This way when the cops find them, they will just assume they're two crazy kids in love who can't keep their hands off each other. No one questions that. His lips are so soft against her own and he's so tender with her, that for a moment, even Paige can pretend that it's true.
If the cops open the tent and see them though, they might notice their clothing is burned. Mike needs to take off his shirt. It would look too suspicious otherwise, she tries to justify it to herself. Plus if they're in states of undress, it will help their cover. They have to get rid of the evidence.
She brings her hand to the collar of his jacket, pushing it from his body, letting her fingers sink into the muscles of his well defined biceps. His kisses develop a new level of intensity, and her mind begins to fog over.
Too many clothes. He's still wearing too many clothes. She reaches blindly down to the hemline of his shirt, clawing at it, trying to pull it off him without breaking the kiss, but it's impossible. Mike's a quick learner, though. He quickly breaks away from the kiss, and helps her yank the offending article over his head.
The moment of separation from each other feels like an eternity. She doesn't even have a chance to appreciate the sight of his shirtless form, because their mouths crash urgently back together again, a blur of teeth and tongues.
His lips feel amazing against her own, but there's so much fresh new flesh to explore that her lips wander off to press against his jaw, his throat, his neck. She wants to taste every inch of new skin available to her.
"Paige, I..." She hears him gasping, and knows she won't be able to leave his mouth unoccupied for long. Mike will start talking, and ruin this moment. She reluctantly starts the trail back up his neck. "Is this... What..." He's panting as she reaches his jaw.
"Don't you dare start thinking." She growls dangerously, ripping her own shirt over her head. It's a warning to him, but to herself as well. She doesn't want to think about this. Not now. All she wants are his lips back against hers.
For once, Mike listens to her. His pupils are dilated and he gives her a hungry stare. He reaches out and places one hand to the small of her back, jerking her forwards, crushing her body against his. He presses his mouth to her collarbone, and traces his tongue along her curves. His lips trail from her shoulder to her neck, pausing to pay extra attention to where the two meet. He sucks lightly there, marking her as his own, and eliciting a pleasured moan from her. Her fingernails dig deep into his shoulder, leaving small moon indentations to mark him as well.
"Do you know how long I've wanted this?" He whispers in her ear. She wants to tell him to stop talking, but his tongue flicks into her ear cavity, and she feels his teeth sink into the fleshy lobe and all words are lost in a soft moan. Her ear is her most sensitive spot.
"Take off your pants." She orders huskily. This has gotten out of control, but Paige no longer gives a damn. She wants him now.
He pulls away to quickly unhooks his belt and jeans. It's the first time since they've entered the tent that she's actually had a chance to really look at him, and she takes advantage of his distraction to take in the vision.
His normally neatly styled hair is sticking up in every direction. His lashes are long and lowered as he concentrates on his belt. His cheeks are flush and he bites his lower lip as he works the fly with nimble fingers. Even in the dark of the tent, she can see the outlines of muscle that interlace every inch of his arms and chest. He's just fucking gorgeous.
She lays back on the floor, and reaches out in a silent invitation to join her. He's looking at her with nervous eyes. Any second now, one of them could come to their senses and stop this.
He's taking too long. She grabs his arm to pull him to her. He loses his balance, falls forward and crashes on top of her. His larger body is heavy, and it knocks the breath from her, but having him back this close to her feels perfect. He scrambles to support himself with his arms, pulling away slightly in the process, and she misses his comforting weight. She needs him closer.
She wraps her legs around him. All this movement has her skirt hiked up to her waist. She uses her feet to nudge his pants down his thighs, until they are a pool of fabric around his knees and there's only air and a thin layer of lace between them.
He's hovering over her, still not close enough. She can see in his eyes, he's thinking and there is no time for that. Paige wraps one sculpted limb around him, the heel of her foot digging into his ass. The other foot presses to the ground for leverage, allowing her to raise her hips up to meet his.
Finally she can feel him hard against her, through the thin damp layer of fabric separating them. She grinds her hips against him, closing her eyes to savor the sensation.
His hips slow, and she feels him tenderly brush her hair back from her face. She opens her eyes in confusion at the soft touch, but his eyes are closed and he leans down slowly to chastely kiss her. She's confused. She thought they were beyond the wooing part. Things shouldn't be slowing down. They should be speeding up.
She bites his bottom lip roughly, trying to bring him back to her level. She reaches up to grasp his neck, pulling him forward, thrusting her tongue between his teeth. Her other hand slides between them, reaching down to brush her panties aside and guide his hardened shaft to her entrance. She needs him now.
His whole body suddenly freezes. She can't bear stopping right now. Not when they are so close. He's changed his mind.
"Wait. I mean, Paige are you sure?" He stammers. She stares up at him like he's crazy. Is she sure? He's not exactly forcing himself on her here. "Are you ready, because I want-"
She would be touched by his show of concern for her wellbeing, if it weren't so damn frustrating.
Instead of answering with words, she silently raises her hips to join them together. She closes her eyes, focusing on nothing but the feeling of him sinking into her, spreading her open. It's been a while, and God, she forgot how good that first thrust feels. She didn't even realize she was empty without him. Now that he's inside her, she feels somehow simultaneously satisfied and wanton.
It's been so long since she's been with a man. How did she live without this for the past few months? He's stretching her just to the point of pain, not quite reaching it.
When she finally is able to think about something other than the feeling of him inside her, she realizes Mike is not moving. His head is buried in the crook of her neck, breathing heavily, with an unnatural stillness. She needs him to move. Before she can voice this, he seems to hear her thoughts, pulling out slowly and then thrusting deeply into her.
Somehow the second thrust feels as good as the first, and it is quickly followed by a third. Then a fourth. Before she knows it, her hips are moving on their own accord, rising to meet his, trying to get him deeper inside of her. She feels desperate, completely desperate to have him closer. Every time he pulls away, it's exquisite torture, only to have him return deeper each time. She is clawing his back and hair. Their lips are pressed roughly together, not kissing, just crying into the other's mouths, breathing each other's air.
He pushes away from her, repositioning himself up on his knees. Somehow, even though there is more space between them, this position seems more intimate. When he's close, she can stare into space, letting her hands and mind wander. From here, she sees nothing but him above her, staring down at her with a look of intense concentration. Even when she closes her eyes she can feel the weight of his stare. There's nothing she can do to him from this angle, he's totally in control. He sets the pace now and it's slower, steadier and precise. God, it's just like Mike. Perfect torture.
She feels him press one hand to her lower stomach, providing a steady pressure, making her feel more full and feeding the fire. He uses his thumb to rub slow firm circles around her clit and she cries out, arching up to try to increase her contact. Oh God where did he learn to do that?
Without him near enough to hold, her hands search wildly for something to grab onto. She's used to being a far more active participant in sex, but he's so calculated that he's not leaving her with much to do. Usually it's her pleasuring her partner and this undivided focus on her is leaving her unsure and frantic. Her hands search for something to focus on, anything to think about other than the man ravishing her. She needs to find something to anchor herself or she'll become lost in him.
A particularly deep thrust elicits a pleasured yelp from her. Her hand flies to her mouth. She bites down and then sucks on a finger, wishing it were him she was tasting. She's going crazy. Her eyes flutter open and his face comes into focus. He's flushed and straining with exertion but entirely focused on her.
She reaches down removing the hand on her abdomen and replacing it with her own. She brings his fingers to her mouth and sucks on them desperately, savoring his salty skin, keeping her eyes trained seductively on his. She sees uncertainty in his eyes, but as her lips envelope around his digits his eyes squeeze shut and he lets out a groan.
His thrusts become more urgent. Their moans become louder. She suckles on his fingers desperately happy to have something to focus her mind on as the pleasure builds inside her. She chokes slightly when his fingers hit the back of her throat, and he immediately withdraws them.
She's so close. Suddenly, he stretches one of her legs straight up in the air and hooks her ankle over his shoulder. Angling forward he drives harder into her.
He's thrusting deeper and deeper inside her, and she can't help the words from falling from her lips.
"Mike! Yes. Oh god yes, fuck yes. Right there. Keep going. Harder. Harder, oh fuck. Yes, please! Oh my fucking god, yes, fuck. Right there. Mike. Oh my- MIKE! GOD YES! FUCK ME PLEASE!"
He moans loudly. Realizing this isn't enough for either of them anymore, he slides himself forward, pinning her leg between them. She's caged by his strong arms on either side of her head and loves the feeling. Her eyes unfocus on the roof of the tent, and her fingers clench in his hair and against his back.
"Paige, fuck I'm close. I've wanted you for so long. I can't believe this is happening. You feel so good, Paige. So good. Come for me please. I need you to come. Just tell me what to do. Paige, god. I'd do anything for you. You know I- Paige, you have to know."
She knows he's talking, but can't process the words. She can feel is the vibrations of his voice in her ear though, and it pushes her over the edge.
"Mike, oh god oh god oh my, ah, yes, keep going. Just like that- oh, I'm going to come." She comes hard, his name bursting from her lips again and again. "Mike, ah- MIKE! FUCK! FUCK ME MIKE! MIKE! OH GOD, FUCK! MIKE!"
"Paige, I need to pull out, I'm going to-" She feels him start to pull away from her. She needs him. God, she needs him now. He can't stop. Finish it.
"Don't you dare." She gasps, wrapping her legs tighter around him, locking him inside her.
Mike seems to abandon any thought of pulling out, and with new determination fucks her roughly. Paige takes it gladly, wanting him to come apart for her. He moans loudly, and penetrates her again and again, slamming deep into her at a frantic pace.
She's still riding the last waves of her orgasm, but she can't help but be mesmerized by the wild look on his face. She has never seen Mike lose control like this. She didn't know he could.
With one final thrust, he sheaths himself completely within her. She can feel him spasming deep inside her, filling her intimately. He gives three last shallow thrusts and she feels his cum seeping out.
He slumps on top of Paige, still inside her.
Slowly the roof of the tent comes back into focus.
Paige is breathing deeply, and her mind begins to clear with each gasp of oxygen.
He brushes the hair back from her sweaty forehead, and kisses her sloppily on her lips, face, neck, whatever he can reach. He seems so happy, like a puppy dog.
She suddenly feels sick.
Holy fuck, what did she just do?
She can't breathe. She can't move. She can't think. She can't breathe.
He rolls off to the side, collapsing in a satisfied heap. The second he's off of her, she's on her feet. She needs air. The tent is heavy and hot with the smell of sex and she can't breath. What did she just do?
"I'm going to check the perimeter." She mumbles hastily, grabbing her shirt and fleeing the tent, not able to look at him. The cool ocean air burns her lungs as she inhales deeply, emerging from the enclosed space.
Holy Fuck.