Necessary Roughness Page 3

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  “Um. I didn’t know you were sleeping. I was just wondering what you wanted for dinner?”

  “You think about food a lot,” she points out.

  “I have a big appetite,” I shrug. “For everything.” I look her straight in the eye, and just like I figured, she blushes.

  “About earlier…” she starts to say. “I… I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not,” I offer. She smiles.

  “Of course not,” she mutters. “How about Mexican for dinner?”

  And then she closes her door.

  In my face.

  I’m stunned, and then I just start to laugh.

  I must look so ridiculous, standing in the hallway, outside some chick’s door, and laughing like an idiot.

  But I don’t even care.

  I just find myself looking forward to dinner with this woman.

  And damned if it won’t be Mexican.

  8

  Chapter Six

  Sophie

  I look in the mirror.

  I’m not sure what I’m doing, but I do know I’m going to look my best while doing it.

  I’m wearing an off-the-shoulder white summer sweater, and short shorts. My legs look longer in them than they are, and I wear a pair of kick-ass heels.

  My hair is brushed out long and shiny, and mascara makes my eyes pop with caramel.

  Nicky Chase could eat me for Breakfast and then want seconds, but I can’t seem to stop wanting him. It’s not smart. I know that. But for once in my life, I want to do what I want without worrying about it.

  The mere memory of his kiss… the way his hands gripped me possessively, like I was his… Lord, it makes me hot even now.

  When I walk into the dining room, Nicky has dinner laid out on the table in a gorgeous way, with flowers and a candle.

  He eyes me up and down, and appreciation burns in his dark eyes like a flame.

  “You look beautiful,” he says simply.

  “Thank you,” I murmur, and he pulls my chair out for me. I sit and he slides it back in.

  Sitting across from me, he picks up his napkin.

  “How’s your knee?” I ask him politely. “We worked it pretty hard this afternoon.”

  “It’s perfect,” he lies.

  “On a scale of one to ten?”

  He shrugs. “Near perfect.”

  I roll my eyes. “Ok. We don’t have to talk about your knee tonight.”

  “What would you like to talk about, then?” he asks, and his eyes are so so intense.

  I look at my plate, then the candle, then the flowers, then back to Nicky freaking Chase. I’m sitting across from Nicky Chase. My stomach does a flip-flop because his lips are so unbelievably perfect.

  “I… I seem to be attracted to you,” I tell him simply and bluntly.

  The corner of his mouth tilts upward.

  “You don’t say?”

  I blush.

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, you might have noticed this afternoon, but I’m attracted to you, too.”

  “You’re attracted to everyone though. I’m usually not.”

  He whips his head up, in mock outrage. “And how would you know that?”

  “Everyone knows,” I shrug.

  “And what, pray tell, does everyone know?”

  He calmly butters a roll and hands it to me.

  “Uh. That you… I mean, you like women.”

  He pauses. “Damn. You mean to tell me that people know I’m heterosexual? What the hell? And I thought I was hiding that so well, too.”

  I blush and I don’t know why.

  “You know what I mean.”

  He takes a bite and chews it thoroughly. His muscled arm lays on the table. “If you mean that I thoroughly enjoy the company of beautiful women from time to time, then that’s true. But none of them were are beautiful as you.”

  “Oh my God,” I snort. “You know how to lay it on thick.”

  He winks.

  “Eat your dinner. You don’t eat enough.”

  “How would you know that?”

  I take a bite for emphasis.

  “Because I notice things.”

  “What else do you notice?”

  He thinks on that. “I notice that you don’t drink caffeine after breakfast, you only have one glass of wine, you never drink to excess. You are very careful, very cautious, and you’re easily angered.”

  I stare at him. “I’ve never lost my temper with you.”

  “Nope. But you’ve wanted to.”

  I have to give him that one. “It’s my Italian blood,” I sigh. “It makes me volatile.”

  He chuckles out loud at that.

  “I’d prefer to think of it as passionate.”

  “I wouldn’t know much about that.”

  He pauses at my words, staring at me, his gaze concentrated.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I just mean…I don’t have a lot of experience in that department.”

  He’s completely still now.

  “Surely you can’t mean… you’re a virgin.”

  I burst out laughing. “You wish. I could just see the wheels turning in your head. Nicky tames the virgin.”

  He eyes me. “Well, are you?”

  “No. I’m not a virgin. I don’t have a lot of experience, but I have some. A little.”

  “On a scale of one to ten?”

  “One.”

  He laughs again.

  “Oh, sweet Lord, thank you.”

  “Thank you for what?

  “For sending me an almost-virgin.”

  “He didn’t send me to you. That would practically be sending me to Satan himself.”

  I swallow hard and Nicky grins.

  “I’m wounded, kitten. Truly.”

  “Kitten?”

  He smiles again.

  “That’s my new name for you.”

  I’m silent, and he stares at me, his eyes smoldering the way they do.

  “Come here, Kitten. I’ve got something to show you.”

  My heart pounds.

  “What is it?”

  He smiles again. “It’s bigger than a breadbox.”

  “Oh my God, are you serious?”

  He laughs. “No. But close.”

  I hesitate. “We are talking about your penis, right?”

  He eyes me. “We can be. Come here, Kitten.”

  I don’t know why I do it, but I get up and walk to him.

  “There’s something about you,” he says, looking up at me as I hover over him. “That makes me want to conquer you. Isn’t that silly?”

  But it’s not silly at all, and he and I both know it.

  I shake my head.

  “Say it,” he instructs politely.

  “Excuse me”

  “Say that it’s not silly, Kitten.”

  “It’s not silly.”

  “Do you want me to conquer you?”

  I nod.

  “Say it.”

  The words whoosh out of my mouth, expelled on hot breath.

  “I want you to conquer me.”

  His eyes flash.

  “Your wish is my command.”

  9

  Chapter Seven

  Sophie

  He kisses me, his tongue plunging into my softness, and I moan into his mouth.

  I fucking love that.

  My leg comes up and he grabs it by the knee, his fingers biting into my soft flesh.

  “Did you mean what you said the other day?” I pull away and ask, he laps at my neck.

  “What did I say?”

  “You said you like it rough.”

  His mouth pauses on the arch of my neck.

  His touch stills on my back.

  “Yes, I do. But I’d never hurt you.”

  “What if… what if I asked you to hurt me?” I say softly. “And then afterward, you can kiss it and make it better?”

  “I’d ask Santa what I’ve
done to be such a good boy this year.”

  He puts his head back down, and nips at my earlobes, making his way along my neck, down to the swell of my breasts. He lingers there, so long that my legs start to shake.

  “Let’s go to another room,” I suggest, taking his hand.

  He leads me to his bedroom, and then I’m in Nicky Chase’s bedroom, and it’s full of blues and browns and grays, and manly colors and heavy furniture, and then I’m in the middle of his giant bed.

  He limps just a little as he takes off his clothes and stands gloriously in front of me, his entire body ripped and muscled and tattooed.

  “Holy shit,” I breathe, eyeing his manhood. It’s not bigger than a bread-box, but it is close.

  “Told you,” he tells me smugly, but then we’re not joking any more as he climbs over me, his hardness pressing into me. Every bit of him is giant and hard, and I’m so so much smaller, so much softer. Yet I don’t have slightest worry that he’ll hurt me.

  He won’t.

  “Tell me what you like,” he instructs quietly, and his weight is on one knee and he looks like a knight from the round-table kneeling above me.

  “Take me hard,” I tell him simply.

  “Not yet, Kitten,” he says impishly. “Good things come to those who wait.”

  The next twenty minutes is torture heaven torture heaven.

  He laves at me with his tongue.

  He kneads at me with his fingers, so long and strong.

  His breath is hot, his body strong.

  His eyes flash in the night, and he works me into a frenzy, with soft fingers that grow more and more insistent, until he is finally as feverish as me.

  “What do you want now, Kitten,” he utters, his words short.

  “I want your hands on my throat, and your dick inside of me.”

  I can hardly breathe.

  He flips me over, and his palm slaps at my ass, soft, then hard, then harder. I smile into the pillows at my stinging skin.

  “You look like an angel,” he says into my ear. “But you’re a vixen, aren’t you?”

  I reach behind and handle his thick cock, stroking it, grasping it, hard, harder, harder. He moans.

  “Yes,” I answer simply. “In the bedroom, I’m a vixen. I want to be. I’ve never been with the right man for that, though…”

  He stops, and waits.

  “The right man for what?”

  He wedges his hard cock into my ass.

  It takes my breath and cognitive thought away.

  “I’ve never… I’ve never…”

  He pushes his tip against me, burying it in my the wedge of my ass.

  “You’ve never had it rough?”

  I shake my head.

  “Well, just call me teacher, baby. Welcome to class.”

  A thrill shoots through me. I’ve always wanted this, something rushed and frenetic and crazy and rough, but I’ve never found the right man.

  You have to truly trust someone to open up in this way.

  I don’t know Nicky Chase well, but I can see in his eyes… I can trust him.

  He grabs a handful of my hair and pulls my head back with just the right amount of pleasure and pain. He dips his head and nips at my exposed neck, his teeth grazing the vulnerability of my skin.

  He bites harder.

  I fucking love it.

  I buck backwards, pushing myself into his dick, and he grabs my hips, grinding into me. He’s naked, and there’s just a thin silken sheath separating us—my panties.

  Until he grabs them and rips them off in one deft movement.

  He flips me onto my back and my legs wrap around him, trying to pull him into me. He pants into my ear, his thumb and forefinger pinching at my nipple. Pleasure ripples through me, and then he sucks on me, his tongue wrapping around my nipple tips, and I can’t I can’t I can’t breathe anymore.

  “Be inside of me,” I beg him. “Now.”

  Just before he plunges into me, he pauses.

  “I’m afraid of breaking you, baby.”

  I whisper into his ear, and he smells like the woods.

  “There’s only one thing you should worry about, Nicky.”

  “And that is?”

  “Giving it to me hard enough.”

  “Oh, Jesus.” He’s bleating now, and there’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead from the discipline that it’s taking him not to plunge right into me now, right this second.

  “Nicky,” I moan and his name feels good on my tongue. His hand feels so good on my ass, his fingers branding me. “Be inside of me. I need you there.”

  He pulls my head back by my hair, and ravages my mouth with his own. I inhale him, and he takes me, burying himself deep within me, and I clench all of my muscles to keep him as close as I can.

  After a while of the rhythmic motion, he flips me over effortlessly, and plunges in from behind. With one hand, he grabs my neck, his fingers biting into the flesh there, just enough just enough, the tips touching my throat.

  “Oh, yeah,” I moan. “Just like that, Nicky.”

  “You’re such a dirty girl, Kitten,” he says, but his words are strained. It’s taking a lot for him not to cum in me right now, and I can feel that, and it makes me feel powerful.

  I buck backwards again, and he rams into me harder, and he groans again, a primal sound.

  “God, you’re going to make me cum, Kitten. I don’t want to cum yet.”

  “So don’t,” I instruct. “Don’t.”

  10

  Chapter Eight

  Nicky

  Dear Lord in Heaven, help me.

  I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this, but I’ll do it again and again if this is my reward.

  Sweet Sophia is face down on the bed, and my fingers are buried in her throat and she’s begging for more.

  I slap her ass, and she begs for it.

  I slap again and she moans.

  Then I pull out abruptly and kiss her ass, kissing away the marks of my fingers, and she pushes her ass into my face.

  So I bury my tongue in her pussy.

  She bucks against my face again, and I plunge further into her, and her smell… Lord, she smells sweet. So musky, so womanly.

  My dick strains and strains and it taken a Herculean effort not to shoot my load into the bed.

  I pull back and then push into her, burying so deep that my hips are melded to hers, her ass pressed into my front, and I reach around, pulling her into me by her tits, my thumbs scraping at her nipples.

  She’s so wanton, she just begs for more, uttering my name, moaning.

  The last thing I hear as I shudder into her is her voice.

  “Nicky, Nicky…”

  Lord, God almighty.

  My knee is shaking, and I roll to the side, my biceps feeling the burn.

  Sophie is limp, and when I can, I prop myself up on an elbow, looking down at her.

  “Are you ok? Was that ok?”

  Her eyes pop open. “Are you kidding? That was perfect. When can we do it again?”

  I laugh and collapse into the pillows and she pulls at me, truly ready to go again.

  “You’re insatiable,” I tell her.

  “You like it,” she answers, and she’s wriggling against me. I think about Shorty’s words, about how others think she’s a bitch and her vagina is welded shut. I stare down at it now, and it is wide open and pink and perfect, and it doesn’t matter how much my knee hurts or how my biceps are shaking.

  I plunge into her again.

  11

  Chapter Nine

  Sophie

  We spend all day in bed.

  Literally.

  We don’t come up for air until my ass is red from spankings, my body aches from being taken so often, and my face is red from whisker burn. It’s dark outside when we get up for sustenance, for wine and cheese and bread, and Nicky limps a little more than usual on the way to the kitchen.

  “Are you ok?” I ask him, and now I’m concerned. I could’ve j
ust set him back. I’m here to help him, not hurt him.

  “I’m good, Kitten.” He turns the kitchen light on.

  “On a scale of…” I start to say, but he interrupts.

  “I’m fine. Come over here.”

  I do, and he pulls me into his strong arms, and kisses me again, and I’m oblivious to my stinging cheeks and sore muscles.

  He is bliss.

  That’s all there is to it.

  We have a snack, and drink some wine, and he turns to me.

  “I’m not a hundred percent, Soph, and you and I both know it.”

  I don’t know what to say, so I just look at him.

  “Before the injury, I could’ve picked you up and carried you anywhere in this house. I could’ve gone jogging with you in my arms. I could’ve done a lot of things. But now…” he glares down at his leg. “Now I’m can’t.”

  “You can,” I insist. “You’ve been doing a lot of things all afternoon.” I think I blush when I say the words, and he grins.

  “Well, you’re easily pleased,” he tells me. But I’m already shaking my head.

  “I’m not. I’m not easily pleased. That’s why I haven’t been with anyone in so long. When you have…an appetite… like mine, I like it rough… but I also like it soft. It takes a special kind of man to know when to do what. Most don’t have that skill. But you do. You do, Nicky.”

  He runs his hand up my back, and stops at my neck, pulling my face to his.

  He kisses me hard and long.

  “I don’t know what to do,” he finally says. “About my knee. I’m not ready to stop playing. But… I don’t want to play like a half-ass, either.”

  “Don’t worry about that right now,” I tell him. “We’ve got weeks before they want an answer from me. We’ve got time.”

  “I just hate having things hang over my head,” he says, and he’s troubled. He gulps down his wine, and nothing I say brings him comfort.

  “Let’s go back to bed,” I tell him. “We’ll worry about this tomorrow.

  He agrees to that, and when we get to bed, he’s gentle with me, soft and sweet. He kisses me carefully, lying me back ever-so-gently, and he makes love to me, like I’m made of glass.