Sweet Release (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance) (13 page)

Ella

It seemed silly, but I kept my mouth shut about it. That was what Mike had been hiding? Why he’d wanted to wait so long before we got naked together? He’d only been out of prison for a few weeks. It wasn’t like I had expected him to have a penthouse in the best part of town.

If anything, I wished I’d just laid out all the deal breakers for him the first night we’d gone out.

Mike let me into the gym, and we went through the door in the back that led to the bathrooms and locker rooms. There was a stairway at the end of that hallway that I assumed led to storage, or something; I’d never really thought about it.

In fact, it led up two flights, and on the third floor there was an old warehouse style loft. It wasn’t small. In fact, I wondered why Mike seemed to think it was.

Now, it was somewhat spartan. There was an old TV on a wooden crate, college style, and a long, ratty but not foul smelling couch that turned out to be more comfortable than it looked, a full sized mattress—on the floor, but thick enough that it worked—and a small kitchenette with a collection of somewhat used and abused appliances. The floors were a rich, dark hardwood, though, and the windows that lines two walls, while they didn’t exactly have a view, were actually pretty damn chic. With a little work, this place could be seriously nice.

“Mi casa,” Mike announced, arms spread.

“I can’t believe you were worried about bringing me here,” I muttered. I put my hands on his chest and dug my fingers in just a little, controlling the urge to tear his shirt off but just barely. “But I’m glad you finally did.”

“Yeah,” Mike said. “Me, too.” He kissed me, his lips pressing against mine with the echo of my own need and hunger and frustration. Mike’s stomach growled.

I laughed, and had to break off. “Alright. Food?”

Mike ordered pizza, while I sprawled out on his couch. I sank into it; someone else had already long ago done the work of breaking it in. I watched Mike as he paced and talked to someone on the phone. When he paced past me, I reached up and tugged at the band of his gym pants.

A stray streak of mischief hit me, and I sat up, my eyes on his face as he talked, his eyes narrowing with confusion until I pulled the band of his pants down, along with the tight athletic trunks underneath.

Even soft, he was thick. Before he stopped me, I leaned in and scooped up the head of his already hardening dick with my tongue. It was a little salty with clean sweat. I swirled my tongue over it as the fleshy head swelled and grew thick in my mouth.

Mike was breathing hard almost instantly. His knees shook under my hands, and talking was getting to be difficult. “Uh. Yeah. Fuck… uh, pepperoni’s fine, dude. Yeah—shit… whatever, the special, yeah… mother of God… sorry, no I’m fine just… fuck, just send some fucking pizzas, man, I don’t know… yeah, fine—Jesus—twenty something, got it, cash, back door, just call, okay?”

I was giggling quietly as I listened, and distracted him. I wrapped my fingers around his thick shaft and tugged it a little while I worked the head of his cock in and out of my mouth. He finally hung up and dropped his phone. When he did, he let out a long, deep moan. “Ella, Baby… gotta stop… I’m a little… you know…”

I did. Already he was rock hard, swelling up that extra little bit. I kept it up a little longer, but backed off. I didn’t want him wasting himself before he got to work.

“You,” Mike said as he sank down to the floor in front of me, “are fucking amazing; you know that? I don’t deserve you.”

“Shut up,” I said, but smiled, and kicked my shoes off.

He looked, for a second, like he might say something. Instead, though, he pulled me to him so that he was pressed close to me between my thighs and I had to angle my head down to kiss him.

Mike’s massive hands traveled over my back, and under my shirt, and sent dazzling sparks of electric sensation fluttering over my skin and down into the core of me where an already tense, tight knot of ravenous need quivered and started clawing at my insides.

I pulled his shirt off, and got about two seconds to feel his hard body with my hands before he tugged mine off as well. He stared at my chest for a moment, before he glanced up at me. “You sure?”

“Never more sure, Mike, for fuck’s sake—I’m ready. Don’t go easy on me.”

He smirked. “All out, huh?”

“Full contact,” I breathed. I had to be honest, I was a little bit nervous, but I didn’t want to show it in front of Mike.

“Fuck,” Mike grunted. “Alright; you asked for it.”

It was like all that pent up chemistry between us suddenly blew up. It was fierce, explosive—his mouth was on mine, and his fingers pulled at my sport bra until my breasts were exposed and before I recovered from the loss of his tongue in my mouth he’d clamped his lips around my nipple.

I involuntarily let out a moan, and tangled my fingers in his hair as pleasured coursed through my veins. I thought that if he kept this up, just this, I would come. Six years of celibacy had made my nerves raw and tender and his tongue lashed over my tender skin, collecting the interest until my back was arched painfully and my mouth was open wide even though I couldn’t make a sound, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think thoughts at all.

He finished with one, and then attacked the other as his rough fingers tugged at my pants and worked them down over my hips. He managed to shift around, keeping my nipple in his mouth, while he worked them down my thighs and off my feet. He pulled my hips toward him and wrapped one iron arm around my waist while his other hand snaked around the back of my neck and pulled me down.

He let my nipple go, and kissed me again, first on my lips, and then my chin, and then my neck, growling as he did, his own pent up beast finally breaking free.

His teeth sent shock waves from my neck into my skull and down my spine when he bit me, and I clutched at him like a buoy that could keep me from drowning. Mike’s fingers found my nipples, and my sides, and my thighs, and everywhere they explored he found buttons to push and tweak and massage that melted me to the point that I was breathlessly begging him, “Please, Mike… please…” They were the only two coherent words I could make, and even those left me when his fingers finally dipped between my thighs and found my wet, yielding pussy and stroked my outer lips slowly, feathery light touches, until he grazed my clit and caught it between two fingers.

He kept his mouth on my neck as he rolled it slowly, gently massaging it. I was held tight, unable to move and unwilling anyway, and he growled into my neck a throaty chuckle when I spasmed under his fingers and let out a desperate whine of pleasure.

Mike’s fingers dipped inside of me, short, quick trips that left his fingers more slick, and he made circles over my sensitive nub with them between swift pinches and flicks. Every time he made those circles my hips gyrated with him; every pinch and flick made me gasp, my body jerking in response to the sudden change.

It had my body confused and panicked and mindless and lost. I dug my fingers into his shoulders, his neck, his hair, trying to find some purchase but I didn’t even know why; everything was running on automatic, it was all animal instinct and reaction, a loss of control that went right to my hind-brain and shut everything down.

When Mike maybe felt like I’d served my time for distracting him on the phone, he pushed me gently back against the couch and slipped his arms under my thighs. I must have weighed nothing to him, because he lifted me easily up and off the seat of the couch so that I had to grab the back of it and support myself as he dove headfirst into me.

With more skill than I would have guessed he’d have after four years in the pen, his tongue flickered out and speared me with its tip, lapping quickly at my inner lips and teasing my clit. The heat of his mouth spread through my hips, and the pleasure of it locked my thighs and stomach so that there was a very real possibility I might choke him out; but he didn’t seem to notice. Once in a while, when I could see clearly, I saw his eyes, bright with with his smug excitement as he ate me out. I wanted to laugh, and say “fuck you” but all I could do just then was moan for him and try to keep breathing.

His eyes fluttered closed, though, and he growled softly as his lips closed over my clit, his tongue massaging long, wide circles. He sucked the little nub, pinching with his lips and flicked it with the tip of his tongue where it was trapped. Each time, it was like he’d hit me, and my body jerked from it.

“Close,” I murmured, that knot of tension starting to unravel fast inside me as it heated up. “Keep going…”

But Mike grunted a negative, and rumbled amusement as he pulled away. “Not so fast,” he said.

I pouted a lip at him.

Laughing, he lowered my legs off his shoulders, and drew me close to him. “Here?” He asked.

“Here,” I breathed into his mouth as I kissed him again. The scent of me was all over him, mixed in with his own sweat, and with mine. Mike’s scent was like a drug.

My hands found him again, hard and ready, and a little moist at the tip. I smeared some of it over the wide, spongy head of him and swirled my fingers back and forth. His breath caught, and he bit my lower lip as he forced it out through a strained throat.

“Like that?”

“Sensitive,” he groaned. His body shook against mine. Funny, all that muscle, all that power in him, and one little spot could cripple him. I would have sympathized more if he hadn’t just dangled me over the edge and laughed about it.

With a grunt, he jerked my hips forward, dislodging my fingers as his cock slipped against the wetness between my thighs. His kiss was urgent, harder, his tongue against mine as we grappled for real estate in one another’s mouths. He thrust, gliding his cock between my lips and up, grinding it against my clit once and twice, slowly, before he shifted just so and then pressed the tip inside me.

He was thick, and it stretched me at first--god, it had been so long--and I froze in his arms, breath held as he gradually sank into me an inch at a time. We were both suspended, still except for his agonizingly slow invasion, until we let out sighs of relief together. Mike withdrew just as slowly, and then pushed in again, this time only a little faster, and his lips brushed mine. “Good?”

In answer, I clawed his shoulders and tangled my fingers in his hair, and pulled myself forward to get him all the way in.

Mike growled again, and pulled my body close to his and then with a sudden lurch we were rising. I wrapped my legs around his waist, trapping him inside me as he lifted me up like I was nothing at all. He walked toward the mattress in the corner, hands spread over my ass and holding me up. As he carried me his arms bulged, and he lifted me up, and lowered me down onto his cock again. The slight curve of it brushed the hot spot inside and sent shivers trembling through my stomach and into my nipples.

And then we were falling. We hit the mattress hard, but Mike had braced himself on one hand to keep from crushing me. Still, his weight on top of me was pleasantly smothering, our sweat mingling, his chest brushing my hard nipples. He lingered long enough to kiss me again, panting in time with me, before he sat up, and reached down to where we were locked together.

His fingers pinched and rubbed, as his cock withdrew and then slammed back into me, hammering up against my spot as he manipulated the my clit with an almost casual ease. My back arched to roll my hips and take more of him, and to escape the shocking pleasure of his fingers, and I balled handfuls of cheap sheets into my fists as I gasped and then mewled under his power.

“Mike,” I moaned, “fuck… oh, god… fuck me…”

He did, escalated quickly from that slow, rhythmic pace right into jackhammer mode. Sweat beaded over his forehead and rand own his chest in rivulets--it was hot up here, not just us--and his hands worked me mercilessly, first my clit, then gliding over my stomach and hips, and then pinching my nipples or gripping my pert breasts like handles to tug my body down toward him.

He was close, and so was I. I could feel the extra swell of him, and the rising tide of my own orgasm quaking in my hips, an explosion barely contained, threatening to burst every time he slammed into me or ran his fingers in little circles around my clit.