Page 66 of Rewrite the Rules

twenty-three

Adler

Iam somewhere higher than heaven. I never knew this place existed, but I’m here. Every so often I feel Joel smile against my womanhood as I make sounds I’ve only heard when I was doing my book research.Ahem yes, porn.Except, I’m not faking anything.

There are ways a woman can dabble in her own sexuality without actually having sex. It’s healthy and encouraged according to every women’s magazine of the twenty-first century. But thisparticular act cannot be replicated even by the world’s most elaborate toy. For this, I had to wait until I was ready andoh my godwas it worth the wait. I think I could fast for thirty days ifthiswere my reward.

I switch between moaning in agony and then groaning in delight over and over again. My loudness coaxes Joel along. His tongue moves faster, slicking over every crease and fold.

“You’re so wet,” he mumbles somewhere below my belly button. I keep my eyes behind my closed lids or on his high ceilings. Joel shifts his weight to his knees so he can use his hands to push apart my inner thighs. It’s unnecessary, my legs are already eagerly spread for him. He suddenly engulfs my clit and I instinctively try to slam my legs shut to brace against the overwhelming stimulation. I cry out but Joel’s steady hands keep my legs apart as he sucks like he’s trying to free a stubborn pit from the center of a cherry.

My orgasm builds like a rocket ship on countdown. I flex my toes, arch my back, I bite on my bottom lip as the launch gets closer. I can’t endure it. The tension. I need relief. I grip the leather beneath me but my sweaty palms can’t find traction. I’m desperate to hold onto something before I’m drifting in space without oxygen. I reach down and tug Joel’s hair.

“I…think…I’m close.” My hand sprawls, my nails trailing over his scalp.

“Think or know?” he breathes against me. I lift my hips against his tongue, demanding more pressure.

“Know. I…know.” I barely manage the words. Oh, I’m there, I can see the finish line…

He slows. Then he stops. He rips his mouth away and climbs up my body so his face is inches from mine. I’m robbed. Abused. Toyed with…and I am not pleased.

“Just so you’re aware, I amnotinto edging,” I say between angry ragged breaths. My face pulls in frustration and Joel erupts into laughter, angering me further.

“That’s not”—he shakes his head—“I just wanted to try something else.” His laughter fades away. I expect him to start undressing for the aforementioned ‘something else’but instead his fingers inch up my thigh. He sinks his long finger into me with ease and the pressure overcomes me. My head hits the back of the couch. He adds another finger, filling me.

“Joel. Please…don’t stop.” I think I utter real words. I’m not sure, I could be speaking in Parseltonguefor all I know.My brain is so fuzzy, I’m nearly incoherent. All my concentration is on Joel’s fingers that are working me over with expert precision. He knows exactly how to pace to build the tension again. I clamp my eyes shut and bridge my hips as I feel my release building. He must as well, because he slows once more.

“What the hell did we just talk about?” I shriek in protest.

His amused chuckle infuriates me. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Open your eyes.” I oblige. He’s met with sharp daggers. “Do you know why I like missionary so much?”

“I’m not sure if I care right now.”

“Because I love watching when I make a woman—sorry, you—I love watching when I makeyoucome. The look on your face when you lose it—so hot.”

“How would you know? You haven’t done it yet,” I growl.

I must’ve challenged him because suddenly he looks like the boss in the boardroom. He has that ‘take no prisoners’ look in his eyes. Determined. With an agenda.

“Lay back, tuck your knees, and keep your eyes on me. Got it?” His tone is assertive but he pairs it with a sweet peck on my cheek reminding me it’s all sexy fun and games. He pushes gently on my shoulders. I lie flat against the cool leather and raise my legs in the air obediently. Joel snakes down my body just enough to allow me to rest the backs of my knees on his hard-muscled shoulders. My hips shift upwards giving him access to a new angle. This time his palm faces up as he sinks two fingers and then curls them inside of me. I exhale and let out a mixture of a desperate cry, breathy gasp, and plea for mercy. A cocky smile to spreads across Joel’s face.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he reminds me when I try to close them. I can’t help it, it’s sensory overload. I need to shut something off because the feeling of Joel’s thick fingers owning me might be the end of me. Not even the writer in me can contrive an adequate description of the high I feel right now. I just want to float in this pleasure and drift away but Joel keeps me here with his eye contact, daring me to endure it all.

“Fuck, you’re dripping.” He slams his curled fingers into me and pumps relentlessly. He strokes that magic self-destruct button over and over until I clench and detonate around his hand, losing my mind, seeing shooting stars and swirling galaxies before I can’t fight it anymore. I sink behind my eyelids finding some solace in the dark as my thighs continue to spasm.

And there it is.

The very first orgasm a man has ever given me.It’s a crime that I waited twenty-five years for this.

When I open my eyes, Joel is hovering over me, venerating me like I’m a prize painting at the Louvre. I’m suddenly self-conscious of the fact that I’m completely naked from the waist down with my sweater pushed up to my neck. I’m sticking to Joel’s leather living room furniture, glued by my own sweat.

“You are so beautiful.” The sensual voracity of his words from moments ago dissipates. His tone changes. It’s fueled with intimacy and definitely not ‘fun bunny’ appropriate. I could melt under this look and be happy here as a puddle, forever.

But I can’t. We can’t. Once I want more, this is over. And I’m not ready for this to be over.

I tuck in my hips as a gentle hint for Joel to collect his fingers. “Your turn,” I singsong, reintroducing the playfulness between us. I need a distraction from that look in his eyes that is borderline loving. “I believe you have a list for me, yes?”

“Come on.” He nods to his left. “My bedroom is back this way.”

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