u/noxlace

Part 1

Part 2

——

Back and forth. Moving to the rhythm.

His eyes lingered on where my hips gyrated against his for a whole two seconds before a strangled groan escaped his lips. I knew that song all too well. The sound of him struggling to maintain composure was like my own personal dose of ecstasy. Knowing it was me that had elicited such a reaction from him? Hnnnnngggg.

I followed his stare and instantly felt the knot in my stomach tighten. There it was, a wet spot on his leg that matched perfectly with where my soaked panties had been grinding against. Shit.

I tentatively flicked my doe-eyed gaze up to his. Half-embarrassed from how quickly I’d gotten so worked up, half-aroused from witnessing just how my need affected him.

“Look at you,” he murmured. “Already starting to make a mess for me…”

My legs were still wrapped around his waist when he shifted his weight to better support me against the door. His fingertips began dancing along my inner thigh under my skirt, inching to the edge of my panties.

“You have the softest skin, you know that?” His voice barely registered. His fingers skimmed close. Painfully close. If he just nudged a little higher…

“A shame these thighs aren’t covered in bite marks. Simply unacceptable. We’ll have to fix that.” I felt my breath hitch on the last syllable of his sentence when his index finger brushed against the lace trim of my thong.

“Mmmh.” A high-pitched whimper fell before I could stop it. His knuckles barely grazed my skin when he slid my panties to the side. Cool air meeting my warmth instantly. I could feel the glistening mess trail behind as he shifted the fabric away from me. My thong was absolutely soaked. There was nothing left to hide the slick sheen that coated the outside of my lips. I was on complete display for him to drink in as he pleased.

But he didn’t stop there. No, no, that would be too easy. He continued without hesitation.

He swiped between my lips in one torturously slow gesture. My desire coating his fingers as he raised them up between us, mere inches from his face, while he watched it start to drip.

I can’t breathe. Am I breathing?

I couldn’t tear my eyes away as he opened his mouth and tasted me on his tongue. Savouring it like I’m his last meal.

Sweet christ. Not breathing. Definitely not breathing.

The look of satisfaction on his face, the corners of his mouth lifting into a wicked grin. It’s only now I realize I’ve been sitting here slack-jawed the entire time with his little taste-testing demonstration.

“What’s the matter, pretty girl, cat got your tongue?”

Okay, breathing again. I hate him. God I hate him. The things I would do to silence that tongue of his right now and wipe that smug look off his face. He’s insufferable. Is it normal to be this annoyed and turned on by someone at the same time? I hate how much I laugh at his stupid jokes and how I laugh even harder when I’m trying not to. But most of all I hate how I don’t hate it. Not even a little bit, not even at all. Now I know how Julia Stiles felt when she hated 10 things about you…

“Listen, I had a mild lapse in judgement. Just because there’s perhaps a chance that I may have missed you doesn’t mean—” His lips were on mine before I could finish.

His hand intertwined with my hair and pulling me deeper into the kiss. I was vaguely aware that he had started moving throughout the kiss when I felt the cool granite slide against the backs of my thighs. He’d brought us into the kitchen and plopped me down on the counter.

“Good lord. Do you ever stop talking?” he let out.

“Yeah. Sometimes I eat your leftovers. It’s impolite to talk with a full mouth.” I’m already going to suffer the consequences of this, may as well have a little fun.

“Sometimes certain men can make me stop talking too. The ones that can turn my brain off. You remember Jake, right? My old coworker? His hands were incredible. He could do it so easily.” Teasing him like this always gets him riled up. He’s too competitive for his own good.

“But you wouldn’t know what that’s like, would you? Poor guy…” I feign innocence with a pout and sigh. We both know I’m clearly lying. He’s well aware that he can turn my brain off. He practically has a master key for it.

His head cocks to the side with that same devious smirk. “Oh yeah?”

I lean forward in his space and drag my tongue up the side of his neck until I reach the corner of his jaw. Leaving little bites along the way as my breath fawns over a skidding pulse. I can see his knuckles strain as he grips the counter ledge on either side of my thighs. His composure hanging on by a single thread.

A smart and patient girl would know not to test the tension of such fine threads when she’s currently nestled in the devil’s embrace. Unfortunately, I am neither of those things at the moment.

With one more swirl of my tongue against his skin, I close the distance to his ear and whisper, “Yes.”

In an instant, his hands leave the countertop and rip my panties down my legs. He hikes my skirt above my hips and pushes my knees up and out until I’m spread before him, exposed once again. My squirming and half-assed attempt to stop him would’ve had more of a chance if he wasn’t so fucking quick.

Maybe he is a serial killer after all… just one that’s really good with his words. I should send him a crossword search after this.

“You think you’re clever, huh?” I open my mouth to respond, to which he uses as an opportunity to shove my own, soaked, lacy panties into. His hand quickly following to clamp shut on top.

“Trying to get a rise out of me when, last I checked—” he drags his free hand up my core with a chuckle, “—you’ve already made a mess of yourself, poor girl.”

My cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“My smart girl likes to run her mouth and pretend like she isn’t currently dripping for me.”

SMACK

His hand comes down on my pussy. Eliciting a muffled yelp from my panty-filled mouth.

“As if she isn’t soaking the counter as I speak.”

SMACK

This one harder. The sting lingering against my skin. Pain mixing with pleasure. I could feel my orgasm start to build.

“As if her cheeks aren’t flushed from the thought of how not-so-innocent she is with me.”

SMACK

The jolt surged through me. Bringing me another step closer to falling over the edge. I could feel my eyes start to well up. Not from the pain, he never truly caused me any harm. But from the helplessness of it all. How badly I wanted to let go. Let him have his way with me. Let the orgasm wash over me.

“Tell me, love. How was it? Was he good? Did he remind you of how beautiful those pretty blue eyes look when they’re wide with fear? Could Jake even make you cum?” He was taunting me now.

I braced for the shock of the next sting. My entire body tensing in anticipation. Instead, I felt the pads of his fingers gently settle against my clit. Drawing small circles while his eyes bore into mine with his head cocked to the side. He was soothing away the sting, but the crescendo of my orgasm was already nearing its peak.

“Was he better than me?”

A finger slid inside of me while his thumb teased my clit. Fuck.

“Did he get to listen to the melodic song of your sweet, sweet whimpers?”

I could feel his pace start to quicken. The addition of another finger easing its way into me as he made the come-hither motion. Pathetic sounds of how wet I was leaving echoes in the room around us.

“Better yet, did you dare let him have a taste of you?”

I was breaking. My whimpers escaped from behind his hand that clamped down on top of my mouth.

“Let him coat his beard with your scent?”

Tears started to spill down my flushed face. I was completely at his mercy as I sat exposed beneath him. The traces of my arousal coated my inner thighs and dripped down his fingers. Soaking the counter below me with a puddle of my embarrassment. But I was getting close, so close.

Just a little more and— fuck. Yes. God. I’m going to—

“Not yet.” He withdrew his hand.

NO

My body slumps against the cabinet at the loss of his touch. How empty I feel without his warmth. Frustrated tears now streaming after being denied. He removes the panties from my mouth and puts them in his back pocket.

“There should only be one name falling from those lips. So tell me, sweetheart. Who’s the one you come home to?”

He knows it’s him. Jake is sweet, I’ll admit. He’s asked me out a few times and we’ve gotten coffee, but I’ve never been into him that way. He’s just a friend.

“No response?”

He drops to his knees before me and slides two fingers inside once more. The ache returning instantly as I feel myself climbing again. This time I can feel his hot breath fawning over my core. I watch as he leans forward, beard brushing against my inner thigh, and flicks the tip of his tongue against my clit. Soft at first, as if he’s testing the waters.

Fuck. I think I’m going to pass out.

I let my head tip back to rest against the cabinet in an attempt to regain some composure. I can’t help but pull his head into me as I crave more. My body drawn back to who it beckons to, like a magnet. His tongue laps up every inch of me and devours any last piece of remaining sanity.

But just as I begin to ascend once more, he stops. A-fucking-gain.

“Let’s try once more, shall we? Who gets to have you like this, love?” he asks calmly. There’s a patience in his voice that I know won’t falter.

“Please…” is all I can manage to let out with an exasperated sigh.

“Sorry, say again? I couldn’t hear you.”

I’ve lost all ability to think straight. My mind? Gone. I’m covered in tears, sweat, and my own arousal just from his words and wicked touch.

“You do, alright? You do.” I resign.

He clicks his teeth in disapproval. “Words, baby. Let me hear you say it.”

Part 1

——

“That’s my girl” he whispered. Despite his ragged breaths, his voice always found a way to pierce through me and infiltrate my every thought. Kinda like the way a sharp knife effortlessly glides through butter on a hot summer day. Except hi hello, it’s me, I’m the butter.

It wasn’t just that he made my heart race or turned me on, cause god knows he could. Easily. Too easily for my own stubborn ego and dignity, I may add. But it was just… him. His presence. I felt it from my very first interaction with him when he had moved in a few houses down from me last year.

—1 year prior—

Why the fuck I decided to walk to pick up groceries on one of the hottest days of the year is beyond me. The heat was sweltering with temperatures reaching high 30°Cs and it was mid-day. I had tied my golden waves back into a loose braid to help keep cool, while I wore one of my favourite summer outfits. It’s a light linen dress with an off-the-shoulder neckline that fits snug across my chest and cinches at the waist. It flows down to about mid thigh where it gently sways with a warm breeze. The summer months always brought out auburn tones in my hair and extra freckles on my sun-kissed skin, which tended to make the white fabric pop more than usual. With the sun beaming down from above and humidity on the rise, I could feel tiny droplets of sweat forming. Coaxing loose strands of hair to start curling into tiny little ringlets on the back of my neck. It was as if each new curl that appeared also happened to add a pound of weight to the grocery bags and my arms were growing heavy.

“Did you need a hand carrying those home?” An unfamiliar voice offers my way. My eyes snap to the direction of the sound where I’m met with gentle eyes and the faintest of smiles. Did he say that to me? Am I hearing things? Not so much as even a simple hello or even acknowledgement that I exist since he’s moved in, but he’s decided that he wants to help carry grocery bags? You know, I had even left some fresh baked muffins on his doorstep with a welcome note a while back. Not so much as even a thank you. Mind you, I did leave them in a rush on my way to work, but still. Come on.

As his eyes stay locked on mine, I realize he’s waiting for an answer from me. Maybe he’s shy. I mean, he did just move in a few weeks ago. Maybe he’s new to the area and is on the quieter side. Maybe he never received the muffins I made or someone took them from his porch. Maybe he’s a serial killer that’s currently plotting my demise as we speak. Hot. Give him a chance.

“Oh - no no, that’s okay. I’m fine. I’m nearly home anyway. I can handle a few groceries, but thank you!” I respond with a lighthearted smile as I fight for my life trying to hold in laboured breaths from this stupid walk. I could barely get the words out without giving away just how out of breath I was from this uphill marathon. Okay, making a mental note to improve my stamina abilities when carrying groceries in front of strangers. Noted.

“Yeah… you sure seem like you’re handling it just fine.” He slyly adds with a devilish smirk on his face. Alright so maybe I wasn’t as slick as I thought I was with concealing my grocery day endeavour.

But I could see my place from here. There’s no need to make the new incredibly attractive but doesn’t appreciate muffins neighbour carry my groceries. Especially not after his fiery little comment about how he thinks I’m struggling. What is this - some elite supermarket reusable bag holding competition? Sorry I’m not a pro, weirdo. I’m nearly home anyway. Just gotta keep going.

I hadn’t even taken 2 steps forward before I saw him saunter towards me out of the corner of my eye.

“Thanks for the muffins” he said with that same annoying smirk still lingering. “They were delicious. But maybe next time… stick around long enough to let me say thank you? Before vanishing into thin air like some ghost.”

I could feel the heat rise to my already rosy cheeks as my face flushed. So he did get the muffins. Why wouldn’t he have said anything then? Rude.

“I wasn’t sure you even got them?” I pushed back. Normally I’d wait to try and problem-solve some mild miscommunication, but frankly, it was hot and I just wanted to carry along. “I know now that you did. So. I’m glad you liked them.” I shot over my shoulder as I turned my head and continued walking in my beaten up converse towards the sweet, sweet AC waiting for me at home.

Except there was another step with mine.

“Let me help you carry these home. I can practically see your arms beginning to shake” he said evenly. He was close enough now that I could feel the gravity of his presence alongside me.

Making another mental note to start lifting heavier weights so that strangers don’t graciously point out my apparent inability to hold bags for long periods of time.

“Seriously, it’s fine. I’m almost—“

“That wasn’t a question” his tone was deeper now. When I flicked my eyes up to his, there was a certain steadiness in his gaze that wasn’t there moments ago. His calm demeanour didn’t seem to bend around me the way that others did. He held me there. Meeting me where I was rather than backing away. And for the first time in a long time, I felt myself pause.

I never pause.

—Present Day—

Hearing him murmur those three compelling words has never failed to melt me to my core. ‘That’s my girl’ wasn’t just a sentence, it was a claim. It was a recognition of what we’d both known all along, except he spoke them with the certainty of someone who not once doubted the outcome of his claim. In that moment, the subconscious need to perform fell away from me. It felt like my shoulders had finally loosened after a long day at work. Like I was finally home.

In one swift movement, I hooked my hands around the back of his neck and hurriedly crashed my lips onto his. His hands found their way under my skirt and lifted me up as I wrapped my legs around his waist. My back was now pinned against the cool metal door with his palms firmly planted on my ass. I could feel the hard length of him bulging through his pants and pressing against my core. Something that only made the knot in my stomach move lower and intensify the throbbing ache between my thighs.

SMACK

A whimpering mewl escaped my lips when his palm collided with my ass in a firm spank. Except I had no chance to recover. No time to appreciate how nicely his red marks would look in the mirror. His mouth was already greedily claiming mine right back. My tongue welcomed his with an unapologetic hunger and no intention of stopping until my appetite was satisfied.

“Fuck” I peeled my head back and tried to catch my breath as the word fell out of me. His eyes searching my face, waiting for whatever words I was about to say next.

“I fucking missed you, idiot” I breathed, pulse skidding. “Why did you wait so long?”

That same devious smirk returned to his face. I’m beginning to think it never really leaves. His eyes dropped from my lips, down past his favourite nipple piercings that currently pressed through my shirt, and settled on where my hips gyrated against him.

Judging by his loss of composure from what he witnessed when he glanced down, I had a feeling I wouldn’t be left intact after this. Not even a little bit.

It was just another day in the office yet Saturday night was replaying in her head on repeat. Her thoughts kept drifting back to all the unexpected laughter, tension-filled moans, and ways his touch lit her skin on fire. How all the oxygen in the room suddenly disappeared when she felt him near. Not in panic but rather nervous anticipation. 

ding “H, can you please review their file again? I need it by end of day”

Fuck. Was I day dreaming? God, not another email. Some days I swear my boss has nothing better to do than fill my inbox with useless information when I just want to go home and curl up in bed. 

…like the way I curled up in bed last Saturday night next to the man who lived down the road from me? The one that warmed my bed in a way I didn’t even think was possible. The way his body knew mine - as if every curve and trace of my skin was made for him. How we fit together so perfectly. Too perfectly. How good it had felt to watch his head tip back in bliss, groaning at the feeling of my hands working their way up his thigh as I sat perched between his legs. Gazing up at him with playful watery eyes and mascara running down my flushed cheeks. Letting him watch just how much I enjoyed the taste of him. Spit dripping down my chin onto my chest. How thick he felt as he slid his throbbing…

ding “H, you can do that, right? EOD?” 

God give me strength. The fact that a person who doesn’t know how to convert a word doc to a pdf is the same one writing my paycheck truly hurts the soul. But he’s very committed to his current level of understanding, so who am I to judge. 

“Yes, I’ll get it done.” 

Okay, back to work. Get your head on straight. The sooner I finish this, the sooner I get to go home and unwind which is all I want at this point. Today has been dragging and I’m ready to be done. 

ding “Thanks H. Don’t forget to send it as a pdf”

Fuck this guy. 

—later that evening—

I came home to a quiet house that night. It was nearly 10pm and the only light I could see was the warm glow of the ones lining the street, streaming in from the window. I could have sworn I left a lamp on before I left this morning? Hmm. Maybe the power went out. 

But..? No, that couldn’t be. The clock on the stove was still on. If I lost power, which wasn’t totally uncommon around here, the stove would be off as well. Something felt off. As I went to reach for the light switch I noticed a shadow in my periphery. Am I seeing things? Granted, it was late and my tired eyes didn’t have glasses on. But no, that’s definitely a shadow. Time seemed to stand still as I felt my breath catch and heart flutter. Did someone break into my place? It felt like an eternity of my hand hovering over the light switch before I heard it. That same soothing voice as last time, just as I remember him. 

“Hello little one, I’ve been waiting for you”

My thumb quickly switched on the light and there he was. Sitting comfortably on my sofa, as if he owned the goddamn place, with his legs relaxed and a hand behind his head. He was always remarkably calm and steady for someone who carried a mischievous glint in his eye. He had that kind of eye contact that made me forget my own name when he held my gaze for far too long. He hadn’t shaved for a week or two judging by his facial hair, not that I mind. I love facial hair. God he looked fine. I could feel my nipples harden under my shirt as I drank him in and my cheeks began to flush. 

Okay no stop. Focus. This is not the time. Get it together. You need to remind him that he can’t just come as he pleases.

“Did you fucking bre-ak into my house? You know you can’t just do that whenever you want” Dear god why of all the times to have a voice crack, now is when it happens? Fan-fucking-tastic. 

I can’t help but falter back a step as he slowly stands and saunters over to me. His steps slow and intentional. Always deliberate that one. His eyes never leaving mine while he closes the distance between us. Suddenly I’m very aware that my back is up against the door and I’m cornered. His forearms casually brace on either side of my head as he leans forward and overtakes my space. The warm and spicy notes of his cologne mixed with the sweat of his work day fills the air around me. It’s consuming how good he smells at the end of the day. 

I feel his breath fawning over my neck as he brings his lips close and leans in. His hips now fully pressing into my own. Pressing hard. How am I supposed to focus when my heart is racing faster than my mind can keep up? Or my legs feel like they’re made of jello? Is this how it is in the movies?

“Oh, sweet thing.” He coos. “You should really invest in some better locks. Or perhaps, remember to lock your back fucking door?” 

Good lord I want to eat him for dinner when he’s like this. Why am I into this? Am I okay? No, let’s not open that door tonight. My next door neighbour just invited himself into my home and I’m turned on. There’s something wrong with me. 

“My locks are fine, thank you. Not that it’s any of your concern” I slyly add. Little does he know just how far my head spirals when he talks to me like that. Seemingly entertained by my comment, his eyebrows raise and he tilts his head ever so slightly. The quiet look of curiosity on his face shifts into something more charged. Not intrigue, not amusement - but intent. Like he’s surveying his next meal. Except now he’s facing me straight on, with his mouth so close to my lips that I can practically taste him. 

“Not any of my concern?” He murmurs. His voice low. An ember building in his eyes as they wander down to my mouth before lazily returning his gaze back up to mine. He readjusts his legs so that his thigh is wedged between both of mine. I can feel the hard bulge press against me. Building that ache between my own two thighs that I so desperately am trying to ignore. I can’t help but softly grind my hips into him, as if my body remembers who it beckons to. 

“No actually it’s not your concern. Last I checked you were my neighbour, not a locksmith. So if you’ll kindly be on your way, that’d be much appreciated” I say with a bite. The once ember glow in his eyes had now evolved to a blazing fire with the tension. I could feel it simmering beneath the surface. The want. Need. Desire. Christ.

To my surprise, he smirks. Huh?

Without warning he slides a hand off the wall and grabs both of my wrists to pin them above my head. He wastes no time in using the other hand to unzip my sweater and firmly wrap his fingers around my throat. My eyes widening as my breath hitches.

“Don’t play games with me, my love. We both know you had no problem letting it be my concern last time. You remember, don’t you?”

Please don’t say it.

“When that pretty mouth of yours was moaning my favourite song? Don’t be embarrassed love. You sing beautifully when you’re needy for release. Needy for who you belong to”. 

I try to look away but his grasp is quicker. Like he knows my next move before I do. He keeps my jaw in place with his hand tucked under my chin. I can feel my panties dampen and become slick against my skin. He gently tilts my head to side and eases up on his grip, giving himself full unrestricted access to my neck. Hands still pinned above me, I feel him leave light feathered kisses along my collarbone. One after the other as he makes his way up to my jaw. His pace quickening and becoming frantic. The electricity surging between us as he devours any last remaining bit of sanity I have. His tongue now dragging up the side of my neck, sweet fucking christ, all the way to my ear and ending with a small nibble.

He pauses to take me in once more. Both of us breathing heavy. His voice low. “Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me the thought of me claiming every inch of your soft skin, doesn’t make those creamy thighs squeeze together. Tell me the feeling of our sweat covered bodies moving rhythmically as one, doesn’t make your pussy cry for me. Tell me you don’t get off on knowing how absolutely mad you drive me some days. Hell, every fucking day. You consume me. Say it pretty girl. Say it and I’ll stop.”

Suddenly I’m stuck. He knows he has me cornered, and not just physically. The way he sees right through my bratty exterior and unravels me. The girl whose hunger only builds more and more each day. The one who slides a hand under soaking panties late at night, desperate to feed the ache that’s never fully satisfied on her own. How wildly she wants to be taken. Adored. Ruined.

A game of cat and mouse can only go so far. At least with quick and clever cats. They’ll have you cornered with all exits blocked without you even noticing. Reality comes quick.  

“You know I can’t say that…” I felt myself give way. Letting him claim the space I was guarding. Choosing to relinquish control willingly. They say that a man who yearns is a man that earns. But there’s a certain security in feeling wanted and yearned for. It can melt you into putty before your very eyes. I was already his before I even spoke the words out loud, he just didn’t know it yet. 

With his breathing still ragged, he took a single breath. 

“That’s my girl.”

to be continued…