Beth Michele - Scarred Beautiful

I draw a path down her belly with my tongue and when I get to the red scars covering it, a lash of anger pelts through me and I have to shut my eyes briefly and rein it in. I’d do anything to take this away for her but since I can’t, I do the only thing I can. I kiss every single scar with great care, Fran’s hands in my hair guiding me, while together we navigate a new course.

With every touch of my lips to her skin, Fran grows more impatient, her legs moving wildly on the bed, her hips pushing up against me. I know what she wants and I don’t want to deny her any longer so I ease myself between her legs, noticing the damp spot on her panties and knowing she’s soaked for me. “Lift up, baby” I tell her, and as soon as her ass leaves the bed, I slip her panties down and consider myself officially in heaven.

Spreading her open, I slide one finger up and down her wet slit, inhaling her sweet scent, before my tongue dips between her folds and she quivers at the contact. She cries out as I press one finger inside of her while my tongue circles her swollen clit again and again, and I’m getting harder by the minute, thinking about being inside her, the way her body is reacting to me. Her head is bowed against the pillows, her eyes half-lidded, soft moans leaving her lips.

“Matt,” she pants, dropping her legs open further for me, “that feels so…good.”

“You’re so wet,” I mutter, my breathing shallow, drunk on her scent, the taste of her almost pushing me over the edge.

She starts to pulsate around my finger, her body trembling, and I know she’s close. I’ve never cared so much about getting someone off before, but I want this to be amazing for her and I want to do it over and over again—my tongue between her legs, my name on her lips.

“Fran, look at me. I want to watch you when you come.”

She lifts her head and our fiery eyes meet as I continue licking and sucking on her clit, and when I push another finger inside of her, she arches her hips against my hand, forcing my tongue deeper, my finger touching the wall of her swollen pussy. I love how much she wants this, how she’s giving herself to me. “Please.” She lets out a pleading moan and when I delve into her one last time, the wave hits and she bucks against me, coming hard and screaming my name, her eyelids fluttering closed, cheeks flush with her release.

I continue to lap at her tenderly until she floats down to earth, her breathing slower, her limbs relaxed. When I work my way back up to her, she has a sated smile on her face. “You’re back,” I tease, kissing her swollen lips, letting her taste her arousal while our tongues mingle in a slow dance. “God, you’re so sexy when you come. I could get off just watching you.”

“That was…that felt…,” she fumbles, but can’t seem to get the words out.

“Amazing, earth-shattering, mind-blowing,” I joke, and she pushes me down on the bed, climbing on top of me, and I decide I really like this position. She could ride me right now and I’d be completely fine with it, but it appears she has other plans.

“My turn,” she says, and then all I see are her silky strands flowing across my stomach in a sheet of black, the feel of her lips trailing down my sensitized skin.

I’d be lying if I didn’t say that was the best oral sex I’ve ever received in my life. Matt has a magic tongue that he can use on me anytime he wants. He’s amazing, really, and when he says those things to me about me being beautiful, my heart skips a beat at his sincerity. I’m so self-conscious about my scars, yet with a couple of words he managed to put me at ease because I know he means it. That’s one of the many things I’ve learned about him, there’s nothing but absolute honesty in those enchanting blue eyes. He makes me feel beautiful and that’s something no one has been able to do in a very long time.

So now it’s my turn to make him feel as good as he makes me feel. I roll on top of him, the heat of his erection taunting my core, his boxers the only barrier between us. “It’s my turn,” I say, before letting my eyes roam over his perfect form. I kiss my way down every tanned ripple of muscle, the defined lines that form a perfect V, and the trail of hair that disappears just below the waistband of his shorts. His chest is rising wildly underneath me as I tease him with my tongue and he lets out a low groan when my teeth skim his hip. Moving lower, I pull on his boxers to slide them down his legs and his erection springs free, and I’m mesmerized by the sheer size of him, my sex clenching at the thought of having him inside me. My hand fists the base of his arousal, reveling in the smooth feel of his skin as I stroke him. His breath catches when my tongue darts out to lick the tip before sliding his entire length into my mouth.

He lets out a groan and I take as much of him as I can manage to the back of my throat, while he gently holds my head, guiding me back and forth, and I can tell he’s desperately trying to hold on to his control. When he lets go of me and begins clawing at the sheets I speed up, wanting so much to do this to him, for him.

I use my tongue and lick up and down his cock, sliding him out, teasing the head, and then sliding him back in again while my hand grips him more firmly.

“Baby,” he says breathlessly, “I really want to come in that sweet mouth of yours, but if you don’t want me to, you need to—”

I don’t give him a chance to say anything else. I want this, so I pump him harder and faster until his hips rise off the bed, my name rolling off his tongue in a fierce growl as he lets go in my mouth.

“Sweet Jesus, Fran,” he mutters, wiping the sweat from his forehead and still trying to catch his breath. “Come here.” He pulls me up and I curl into him. He covers us with the sheet and kisses my hair repeatedly, while his hand takes a lazy stroll down my back, soothing me.

“You’re not the only one who has talent,” I taunt, and he tips my head back to plant a tender kiss on my lips that makes my toes curl and my insides unfurl with yearning. Panic flares in my chest and it must register on my face because Matt’s eyes grow wide with concern.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asks, never letting go of me.

What do I say? Do I tell him that I’m scared? That I want to know what this is we’re doing. I mean, I know what we’re doing right now but pretty soon reality is going to come crashing down on me because I’m going back to New York, back to my life…and he’ll go back to his. I keep telling myself this is nothing but two people spending time together, enjoying each other. But I know for me, it’s becoming more than that. The thought of not seeing him makes it difficult for me to breathe.

“I’m fine,” I lie, clearly unable to voice the crazy thoughts going through my head.

“Are you sure?” he asks tentatively, searching my eyes for an answer.

“Yeah.” I snuggle in closer to his side, draping my arm over his chest and hooking my leg over his.

“Do you want me to order some food? Are you hungry?” He combs through my hair with his fingers and I sigh, my eyes drifting closed. “All those little noises you make drive me crazy, you know,” he whispers, rubbing his erection against my thigh.

“Well, we might need some food for sustenance, I suppose.”

“All right, but in a little bit. I don’t want to move right now. I quite like being your pillow.” He squeezes me tighter as I scrape my nails across his chest, watching his muscles spasm under my fingers. “So did you have a good visit with your mom today?”

“Yeah,” I say, smiling against his chest, “It was really nice. It’s been a while since we’ve spent quality time like that and I really miss it.” I grow quiet, my heart full to the brink just thinking about the relief on Mom’s face, the softening of her eyes when I told her I’d forgiven her.

“She blamed herself, you know, for what happened to me. All those years when my dad would come to my room while she was out waitressing, trying to keep our heads above water.” Matt tenses at the mention of my dad and tucks me nearer to him. “It wasn’t her fault, though. At one point, I remember being angry, but she was afraid of him. She’s carried so much guilt with her and I didn’t want her to live like that anymore so I told her that I forgave her, even though I don’t think there was anything to forgive. I knew she needed to hear it.”

“I can only imagine how much that meant to her, to hear that from you,” he says, trailing a finger leisurely up and down my arm, making my skin shiver with the sensation. “I still don’t know how you got through all that, Fran. You really are brave.”

“I don’t know about that. There were so many nights I thought about climbing out of my window and running away, before I smelled cigarette smoke from under my door, before he could use me as his own personal ashtray,” I say acidly, and let out a weakened breath. “But I couldn’t leave my mom with him.”

“Fran, it takes a lot more courage to stay than it does to run,” he says, placing a gentle kiss to my temple.

My tension releases with his kiss, calming me. “The one thing I do know is that after my dad committed suicide almost three years ago, both my mom and I were able to breathe easier. He was determined to find me, to have me in his life, and I told him I didn’t want anything to do with him. A little while later I found out he’d committed suicide…and I was relieved. I know that’s awful.”

He presses his lips to my forehead, determination in his voice. “I know he was your father, baby, but he wasn’t a good man. No one could ever blame you for feeling that way.”

“I don’t really want to talk about him anymore, if you don’t mind. Tell me about you. How was the rest of the conference?” I ask, brushing my fingers over his happy trail and loving that something else is happy down there, too.

“What is it you’re asking? You’re making it kind of hard for me to think,” he replies, chuckling and rotating his hips in my direction.

I let my fingers tiptoe back up his chest so he can concentrate a little better, although my eyes are drawn to the hard-on he’s sporting under the sheet.

“It was good. You missed my fabulous presentation. Although, I had some difficulty focusing.”

I lean up on my elbow so I can see his face. “Oh yeah, why is that?”

He rolls onto his side so we’re face to face, his deep blue eyes penetrating mine. “I was distracted by the thought of some girl with eyes the most stunning shade of green I’ve ever seen.”

“Some girl, huh? She sounds fascinating,” I reply, as he licks his lips before leaning in to sweep them over mine and I’m so ready to get lost in him all over again. My body instantly responds to the firmness pressing against my thigh, the ache between my legs starting up again.

His cell phone rings on the side table interrupting our moment of bliss. “Don’t get that,” I whisper against his lips, but then I listen to the song and start laughing when I realize it’s “ABC” by The Jackson Five. “Who is that?”

“GAH!” Matt groans in frustration and throws his head back against the pillow. “I have to get it. It’s Ma, I mean, Mrs. Brody, Caleb’s mom.” When he sees the confused look on my face he continues. “She loves The Jackson Five and when we were growing up we always had Sunday morning breakfast together. Whenever we’d walk into their house, there were only two things I’d notice, the smell of warm maple syrup and The Jackson Five playing loudly in the kitchen. She liked to dance while she was cooking.” He shrugs his shoulders with a sheepish smile. “So, it makes me think of her.”

He reaches for the phone and I can’t help but think that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard which makes me want to jump his bones right now. He’s so unexpected in such a good way, surprising me at every turn.

“Hey, Ma,” he answers with mischief in his eyes as he stares at my bare breasts until I clock him with a pillow. “No, it’s fine, it’s not too late.” He laughs, almost dropping the phone. “What’s up?”

They talk for a few more minutes and when he finally gets off the phone, he drops it on the bed and tackles me. “We need to get dressed. We’re going over to the Brody’s.”

His erection is pushing into me deliciously and the last thing I want to do is leave this bed, never mind this room.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, my eyelids flapping as his hand grazes the underside of my breast and a moan slips out. “If you want me to get dressed you better stop doing that.”