Page 30 of Stone’s Cage

Suddenly he takes my hand off him and stands, moving to the back of the sofa and I want to swallow him. Swallow him whole. As he stands there, his buttocks tighten when I take my hands and cup each glute. Now he groans again and leans backwards, supporting himself with his arms on the edge of the sofa. The towels still drags underneath him and I step between his legs, shove them apart with my thigh and kneel down.

Looking up at him, I open my mouth.

"Oh my God Lily, you're so beautiful," he manages to say before I take him and the sentence ends with his mouth open and his eyes closed. His penis tastes salty, musky and I love how it fits in my mouth. I take a deep breath and watch him. His biceps quiver with the effort of maintaining his position and his chest flinches with every stroke of my mouth, his breath rasping, guttural, and sexy. His hips begin to thrust and I hold him still, gripping with one hand behind, the other on the tight panel of his groin. Running my tongue down the back of his frenulum he shudders, gasps and grips the sofa even harder. I take a fingernail and stroke his taint, his balls curled tight.

"I want you," he says between breaths. "I want you."

Releasing him, I say, "You have me," and begin again, this time, my mouth firm around his cock, pulling hard. He throws his head back even farther now, his body, long, tense, curving towards the ceiling. Stone says something I don’t understand, and I reach up with one hand to soothe that heaving chest. His nipples are rock hard.

"Lily," he whispers and then takes a big draught of air. His exhale comes even more shaky when I slide him in again, this time, my mouth moving across the velvet tip to the small hole where my tongue dances in and round the divide of his glans.

His legs shake. This man, this huge, complicated man is letting me in him. All of him.

Releasing his cock, I rise, and let my hand take over, my left arm behind him, holding him and I can feel his heart thundering in his chest, his breathing ragged. Then he takes my forearm and, just like that, like with the kiss, the dynamic changes.

He slips both arms around me, kisses me and his hand snakes under my blouse. My own nipples, already hard, are sensitive to his touch. He strokes my neck, my throat, and now its my turn to arch back, and my sex is so slick and wet it aches. He takes my arms and holds them behind me, my wrists in one of his massive hands while the other hand stokes my breasts and he licks them with his tongue. My thighs quiver.

He reaches for a drawer in the end table and takes out a condom.

"Stone," I gasp. "Just take me now." I try to struggle free, but he has me in his grip and it's so delicious to be here. He trails his tongue up my throat and then kisses me, drawing my breath with his and at the moment I think my legs will fail me, he suddenly picks me up with two hands, and slides me onto him.

"Fuuuuck!" I say on the exhale and take another breath.

"Now we're even," he says and, standing, he starts thrusting deep into my sex, hard and high and we are face to face, those burning blues taking me all in.

He thrusts, rhythmically, watching my face and suddenly I know I'm going to come, I can feel it welling deep, deep inside. As my body begins to go ridged, he holds the back of my neck as I come, arching, wave after wave, my vagina quivering and buckling in ecstasy and at the apex, I feel him come inside me too. He grips my shoulders, curls slightly, his head on my chest and his legs, still supporting the two of us, convulse with each clutch of his orgasm.

Slowly, we finish, and he slips from me. Wetness runs down my leg.

"Stone, put me down," I say. But his eyes are closed and his heart still beats hard under my hand. "Stone. You can put me down."

As his eyes open, he slides me off and I stand.

"Well, that was unexpected," I say, trying for levity.

He shakes his head. "Not really." Picking the towel up from the floor, he wraps it around his waist again, as if forcing some sense of modesty. I'm looking at the dull hardwood floor, trying to remember when my pants came off.

"It's almost six," I say. "When's the fight?"

"Eleven," he says. "But I've got to come clean to Coach."

I rumple his hair. "Don’t think about that right now."

"I have to," he says, and leads me to the bathroom.

I watch as he runs water in the sink and he uses the end of the towel to wipe us both. I know I will miss his smell.

"I have to come clean too," I say, and he stares at me.

His jaw sets. "Did you go back to Jimmi's?"

"One of the Hooks did shoot my brother."

I will never forget the look on Stone's face.

"Promise me you'll never go back there."

"I know you're mad."