Jerk It by Lani Lynn Vale

CHAPTER 11

Vagitarian.

-T-shirt

MAVIS

I wasn’t sure what the hell was happening.

I’d kept a huge, massive secret from him since Vlad had been born.

I’d finally let it out…and he was kissing me.

Kissing. Me.

In all my wildest dreams, when I told him about what I’d done—something that was downright diabolical—I’d never expected this particular reaction.

I’d thought that he would yell.

I thought that he might very well kick me out of his life and never let me back into it.

Hell, in a few scenarios, he took me to court.

But not a single one led to this.

Him pressing against me, holding me down, and running those perfect lips of his along my jaw.

His tongue snaked out and ran along the length of my jaw, and I shivered slightly, my breath coming out in short, sharp pants.

And it wasn’t due to the fact that his big body was practically on top of mine.

Even though his knees were on either side of my hips, and his body was curled over mine, there wasn’t a single part of him that was cutting off my air flow.

He was very careful about keeping off of me.

He was also very careful about what he was allowing me to do.

In all honesty, there wasn’t a single part of me that I could move besides wiggling my fingers and toes.

He practically had me trussed up like a turkey ready to be stuffed.

Stuffed.

My God.

I’d been thinking about Alessio Murphy Romano for so long.

So long, in fact, that now that I had him where I wanted him—on top of me, holding me down with his body weight—I wasn’t sure that this was real.

I wiggled my hands, trying to get free, but he only tightened his grip on my wrists.

I tried harder, causing him to hiss out a breath. “Stay still.”

“Or what?” I asked, unable to stop myself from answering his challenge.

He leaned backward until his eyes could catch mine.

“Or I’ll make you,” he answered once he knew he had my full attention.

I scoffed. “You wouldn’t do a damn thing, and you know it.”

He tightened his hold until I couldn’t even separate my thighs, then started to laugh at the look on my face.

“You don’t think I will?” he asked, moving down until he could place his mouth against my collar bone. He gave it a sharp nip before saying, “Would anyone blame me?”

I gasped, my nipples pebbling at the feel of him holding me trussed up, at his mercy.

“I don’t think anyone would, no,” I admitted. “I’m bad.”

He sucked the skin covering my collar bone, causing my hips to lift.

Only, they didn’t get far, because again, he was trapping me on the bed with his big body.

God, I wanted to touch him.

I wanted to run my mouth along his strong jaw.

I wanted to run my fingers through his hair.

I wanted to push my pussy against his…

“Focus,” he ordered.

I blinked, surprised to find him staring down at me with laughter in his eyes.

I cleared my throat.

I wasn’t sure what was going on, nor how I was supposed to act.

What I did know was that I wanted him.

I wanted him to have his way with me, and I wanted him to do it now.

“I’m focused,” I lied.

His eyes smiled even though his lips did not.

Then, he gave me exactly what I’d wanted earlier.

He allowed me to have my hands back.

My fingers hit his skin so fast that he chuckled.

One hand went up into his hair while the other went down to the muscles at the back of his neck.

God. His hair was a whole lot softer than I’d thought it would be.

I don’t know why I expected it to be coarse.

But it was soft, like silk, and I never wanted to take my hands out of the beautiful locks.

My fingers feeling up the muscles on his shoulder stilled when his muscles all of a sudden bunched, and then he was up and off me, making me cry out in frustration.

I glared at him. “Where are you going?”

He got off the bed completely, and then my mouth went dry at the look of desire on his face.

He bent down and stripped his socks from his body, tossing them onto the floor next to his feet.

Then his shirt was next, taking a similar path as his socks.

My mouth went dry at the look of his wide chest.

Again, Murphy didn’t have the best body in the gym.

He had definition along his abs, but they weren’t a six-pack.

Not even close.

But it was his shoulders and chest that had my mouth going so dry that it felt like I was swallowing saw dust.

He had a chest full of hair.

I wanted to run my fingers all along those wide, expansive plains, feeling every dip and groove.

I really, really wanted to pause at the small discs of his nipples and pay homage to those, too. With my tongue.

“You stare at me like you’re starving, and I’m Thanksgiving dinner,” he rumbled.

I watched, fully engrossed now, as he slowly started on unbuttoning his jeans.

He wasn’t wearing a belt.

That meant that his pants were sagging slightly, and the bright green band of his boxer briefs was showing.

The band of his boxers dug in slightly near the hip area, and the smallest roll of fat near his love handles could be seen now.

I wanted to run my lips along that line, too.

“I feel like I’m about to wake up from a dream that even my own mind couldn’t do justice,” I admitted. “I’ve been wanting this for so long that it doesn’t seem real. Any second, you’re going to yell ‘psych’ and take off. And then I’ll really feel like crap.”

He unzipped his pants and allowed them to fall to the floor next to his ever-growing pile.

I took in his jet-black boxers with neon green accents, my eyes automatically moving to the one spot next to his junk that was stitched in bright green thread.

It made his dick look obscenely large.

So large, in fact, that I now had a small amount of trepidation coursing through me.

“I…” my voice trailed off when he reached for my own shoes, followed shortly by my socks.

I wiggled my toes, causing him to smile.

“Nice toes,” he said.

I looked down at them.

They were in sore need of a touch-up. Or hell, they might as well start all the way over due to how ragged the bright green nail polish was.

“I haven’t had time to make it to the nail place lately,” I admitted.

You know. Six months, give or take.

There just wasn’t enough time in the day, unfortunately.

“Maybe if you’re nice, I’ll do them for you,” he teased.

There’d been one time when we were smaller that I’d begged him to paint my toes, and he had.

He’d done a worse job at doing them than I had with my left hand.

I was surprised he remembered.

Or admitted it.

He’d sworn me to secrecy.

“I’m always nice,” I lied again.

His eyebrow quirked up on one side, and I couldn’t help the answering laughter that poured out of me.

Okay, so I wasn’t always nice.

In fact, I was more often mean than I was nice.

It was just the way I was.

I couldn’t help the fact that people were dumb.

Nor could I help the fact that it was easier to just do everything myself rather than depend on anyone else.

“Take your shirt off,” he ordered.

Flames instantly hit my face.

Unlike my sister, who looked good with her shirt off, I did not.

I had a mom-bod.

I had flabby skin, a small pudge, and my boobs had stretch marks from where they’d grown so fast with Vlad.

The last thing I wanted to do was show him my stomach.

Yet, upon seeing my hesitation, he took matters into his own hands and casually wrapped his whole hand around my ankle and pulled me down to the bottom of the bed as if I weighed nothing more than a feather.

I gasped as my back slid against my crappy cotton sheets.

Never before had I found the slide of them against my skin as erotic.

But in this instance, when Murphy was the reason for that feeling, I knew that every time it happened from there on out, I would forever remember this instance in time.

“Shirt. Off,” he urged, his hand smoothing up the length of my calf now.

His callused hands were catching on my leggings, and a tiny shiver of delight started to trickle down the length of my spine.

I never thought I could find that erotic—calluses hanging up on fabric because normally, when it was me, I was all…ewww, gross—but when it was him? When it was Murphy’s hand on my leg, and his skin doing that thing against the weird fabric? Well, I thought it was sexy.

I was so damn weird.

“Sorry,” he said when he pulled his hand away.

I leaned forward and pulled my shirt off in one brave move.

His breath hissed in, and my face flamed.

I was super, duper self-conscious now that I didn’t look the same as pre-Vlad.

But before I could so much as overthink a single thing, Murphy growled in approval. “Goddamn, but you’re beautiful.”

Surprise and elation lit up inside of me at his words.

“Even in a sports bra with my mommy belly?” I asked, wincing as soon as the words left my mouth.

He chuckled. “Even with those sexy tiger stripes, and your ability to see things that aren’t even there.”

I rolled my eyes and finally scrounged up the courage to look up at him.

His eyes were on my breasts.

Even in a simple, no-nonsense black sports bra from Walmart, his eyes were fixated.

His pupils were also dilated, and I could tell that he found me appealing.

Before I could think better of it, I fell back onto my back, and slowly lowered my stomach-control leggings down my belly and over my hips.

His gaze moved from my breasts to my lower half, and I swear to God, he growled in approval.

My skin flushed red at his attention, and I bit my lip as I slowly used both feet to kick off the leggings.

They were Spanx. Super duper hard to get on, and they looked great when they were in place.

But they also hid a lot of stuff from the roaming eye, and I didn’t want him to think that I had the perfect body underneath of them.

I didn’t.

I was so far from having the perfect body that…

He crawled between my legs and placed a kiss on each swell of my breasts.

I groaned and moved my hands to his hair again, loving the way the soft, silky strands sifted through my fingers.

His mouth moved, and I felt the scratch of his five o’clock shadow along the sensitive skin of my breasts.

“Is that zipper what I think it is?” he rasped against my skin.

I reached for the zipper and slowly started to tug it down.

The moment that the tension became too much, the zipper exploded downward, and my breasts spilled free of their confines.

He hissed in a breath, his eyes going to my boobs.

“Goddamn,” he whispered. “What you do to me.”

I didn’t know what that meant.

But I did know that he…

He pressed himself against me, and I finally understood what he meant by ‘what you do to me.’

He was big.

So damn big.

And I wanted him.

I wanted him to bury every single inch of himself inside of me until I was so full, I couldn’t breathe, let alone think.

“Your eyes just went all glassy,” he whispered as he pushed up onto his fists.

I chuckled. “I’m thinking about how you’d feel inside of me,” I replied honestly.

His mouth moved into a smirk, and I realized that his lips were really full. Much fuller than I’d ever noticed before.

And his eyelashes were super long.

A girl would kill for those lips and eyelashes.

Hell, I’d once considered paying for those kinds of lashes until I read the lash chick’s paperwork saying that fake eyelashes could cause blindness. And I wasn’t about that blind life.

I knew that it was possible to live without your sight. I actually had two friends that were blind that I’d met during nursing school. But, I was pretty solidly in the ‘clutz’ category.

I already sucked balls walking on a normal day. Could you imagine…

“Are you paying attention?” Murphy rasped as he pressed himself against me.

I swallowed hard. “I was thinking about your eyelashes.”

Those very eyelashes I’d just been thinking about swept up in surprise as he stared at me with confusion. “What about them?”

“I was thinking,” I said as I smoothed my hands back into his hair. “That you have very pretty lashes. And your hair is really soft, too. And those lips…yeah, those lips are pretty amazing.”

He grinned, causing those sexy lips to quirk.

“Anything else?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I haven’t really gotten to explore anything else.”

He grunted out a reply that ended with, “maybe later.”

Then he was kissing his way down my stomach, and shivers raced him down to the promise land.

“I haven’t done this since…” I started to say.

“Since you got pregnant,” he answered for me. “I figured.”

His lips paused on my belly, pressing a kiss to one of the more prominent stretch marks before continuing down to my plain black cotton panties.

“I always thought you’d be in something sexier,” he admitted as he skimmed his mouth along the top of my pubic bone. “But for some reason, seeing you in plain black cotton panties does it more for me than the lace.”

I swallowed hard. “Lace takes time and effort to take care of. I don’t have that time. Nor do I possess the ability to put forth the effort.”

He opened his mouth and bit down on the flesh covering my pubic bone, causing me to gasp, and my nipples to pebble.

I leaned up and yanked my gaping bra off, causing him to pause in his exploration of the outside of my panties.

He watched from his belly, his face filling with amusement, as I shucked the garment—a bit rougher than I’d originally intended—and tossed it to the floor with the rest of our garments.

His gaze took in my boobs, and his eyes went lazy.

“Do you think,” he said as he watched me settle back down to my back, “you could let me be in control for a bit?”

I rolled my eyes. “Bras are confining, and my nipples are so sensitive right now that it was either take it off or orgasm before you even touched me.”

His eyes went intense. “You’re that sensitive?”

I shrugged. “When I was pregnant, this thing started happening…”

“What kind of thing?” he wondered, trailing back up the length of my body.

His attention was fully caught now.

“I,” I breathed out roughly when his breath skimmed over my distended nipples. “The orgasm thing started to become really easy. Like, all I would have to do was think about it and then I was ready. Touch my breasts? Orgasm. Water from the shower head grazes my clit? Definitely on the road to orgasm. It’s just…weird.”

He brought his big body up between my legs and settled in on his knees, his hands skimming up either sides of my ribs as he came to a stop just below my breasts.

I watched with avid attention as he carefully brought his hands forward to cup my breasts.

My breath hitched.

I wasn’t at orgasm point yet but…if he continued? I just very well might.

His gaze was bouncing from my breasts to my face and back, gauging my reaction.

He knew exactly what he was doing to me, too.

And when he brought one thumb up and slowly swept it over the tip of one nipple, my entire body jolted as if I’d touched a live wire.

“Shit,” he hissed. “You’re not kidding.”

I laughed breathlessly. “You have no idea.”

“I’m about to find out,” he threatened.

Then he was leaning down and bringing his mouth to hover over my nipple.

He blew on the tip, and I squeezed my eyes closed in anticipation.

Goosebumps were spreading all over my body as I tried to keep myself in check.

But I knew it was worthless.

Why?

Because Alessio Murphy Romano was about to touch my nipple with his tongue. I just knew it. And I was about to experience an out-of-body experience the moment that he did.

“You’re being very still,” he teased as he squeezed my breast—being very careful to avoid my nipples with his fingers—while he breathed on the other one.

I shifted my legs, causing my overheated core to brush against his extremely hard thigh.

I froze as an ache started to fill my bottom half.

I was seconds away from orgasm.

And he didn’t even know it.

One more brush of that thigh and…

He brought my nipple to his mouth and I detonated.

One hard suck was all it took, and I was coming like a freight train.

“You weren’t kidding,” he breathed as he sucked my nipple through the orgasm.

I slumped to the bed, deflated. “I don’t usually lie.”

He bent down and bit that sensitive tip in reprimand. “No, you only forge signatures.”

I definitely deserved the nip.

I deserved a spanking, too.

I shouldn’t have done that.

I should’ve…

He yanked my panties off of my hips in one smooth move.

“I was intending to taste you,” he admitted as he settled himself between my thighs. “But now I think I’ll just sink inside of you and see where it leads us.”

I shivered in delight.

“You covered?” he asked as he slowly lowered his boxer briefs to reveal his cock.

Oh, God.

What a cock it was.

“Yes,” I told him. “I have an IUD. Had it placed after my last gynecologist appointment.”

He grumbled something as he slowly swirled the tip of his cock in the juices that were seeping out of my entrance.

“I’m clean,” he promised.

I was a nurse.

I was supposed to be asking these types of things.

But it hadn’t even occurred to me, dammit!

I was in a Murphy Haze. I should have it listed as a real medical condition.

Because I couldn’t make myself think.

I couldn’t even make sense of that big thing he was currently teasing me with, either.

I licked my lips and started to pant out a surprised staccato of breaths.

He notched his cock head at my entrance and I froze.

When he started to push inside, I grabbed his wrist, fingers tightening in response, and cried out in surprise.

The moment he breached my entrance, I saw stars.

“Your wrist is really big,” I found myself saying.

Had those words really just come out of my mouth?

“Just my wrist?” he growled against my lips.

“No,” I breathed.

Though his wrist was really big—I couldn’t get over just how big it actually was in comparison to my hand—I wasn’t thinking about his wrist at all. I was thinking about his cock.

Which was what truly was big.

“Your wrists are really small,” he teased, reaching for my other wrist with his free hand and bringing it up above my head.

He pressed it down into the mattress and squeezed it lightly.

I bit my lip and went up lightly into a hollow bodied hold to be able to see past my breasts to where he was pressing into me.

His cock was large.

There was no doubt about it.

I mean, it should’ve been obvious seeing as Murphy was a big guy.

But, I guess, I hadn’t really thought about the congruency of body parts that were on the outside of his clothes to the ones that were on the inside.

I should have.

Because now that I was seeing it with my own eyes, I was a bit stunned in surprise.

I knew he was big.

But man, his cock was death-defyingly big.

“Relax,” he rumbled, sweeping a thumb over my nipple.

My arm that was still latched onto his wrist swept over the other nipple, and I groaned in response to both touches.

“I’m trying,” I fell back onto the pillows and closed my eyes. “But the last thing that had to do with my vagina that had any girth to it whatsoever ended up taking me out of commission for weeks.”

He would know.

He’d been there for it.

Speaking of…

“You don’t, like, see me in that unflattering position delivering my child while you’re trying to stick your cock in me, do you?” I asked.

He froze with his cock about a quarter inch inside of me, with still so, so, so much to go.

His eyes slowly moved up to meet mine.

“I hadn’t been…” he paused. “But now I think I might’ve lost all will to do this.”

He was lying.

His cock was still just as hard as it’d been before I asked the question.

I scoffed and started to wiggle to make room for the cock that he was still feeding me in slow increments.

“You’re teasing me,” I told him. “Just get it inside of me already.”

He brought his mouth down to my throat instead and started to lightly suck on the skin that was right beneath my right ear.

I closed my eyes and wrapped both legs around his waist, trying to hold on when I knew that I was about to fly apart again.

He didn’t do as I requested. At least not with any sense of urgency.

By the time that he was all the way inside of me, though, I’d had another orgasm, and was panting and as out of breath as he was.

His eyes were locked on me as his breathing was labored.

I pressed my hand to the wide pectoral muscle above his heart and could feel it working a mile a minute.

Using a move I learned in a martial arts class that I took for protection, I moved until he was on his back, and I was on top of him.

“Let me, please,” I begged.

I knew that something about exerting himself was making this hard, so I wanted to make it as easy on him as possible.

And as good as possible.

His eyes flashed with understanding that I had the knowledge that something was wrong, but he chose not to argue with me as he moved his hands to either sides of my hips.

I reluctantly let go of his wrist and pressed both of my palms to the wide expanse of his chest, my fingers digging in slightly to the muscles so I could get a good feel for his chest hair.

“I’ve wanted to do this since I saw you last,” I told him, curling my fingers and then spreading them back out wide.

“I’ve wanted you in this exact position,” he replied gutturally. “Since I saw you walk into my shop all those many months ago.”

I wiggled my hips to see his reaction, and his eyes dilated.

“Don’t,” he breathed. “I’ll go.”

“Maybe I want you to,” I teased as I lifted up slightly and came back down. “I’ve gotten plenty from what you’ve given me so far. Now it’s your turn.”

Which was hilarious, because I was going to be able to go again. Soon.

There was one thing I could say about easy to obtain orgasms.

They came in handy when the man couldn’t hold out.

Because it was as if I’d given him permission, he started to top from the bottom.

Despite me wanting to do all the work, he just couldn’t help himself.

He started to fuck up into me with a determination that bordered on desperation.

I cried out in surprise when his cock hit depths I’d never previously experienced before.

And just that quick, I was teetering on the edge again.

“Fuck, what you do to me.” He growled.

I closed my eyes, focused on what he was making me feel, and allowed him to take me over the edge.

It took all of four strokes on his part before I was lost in the sensations all over again.

Vaguely, I heard him growl in response, then I felt the ragged thrusts as he tried to hold a pace but failed.

Soon, they became erratic.

The muscles underneath my fingers bunched, and then I felt him tense completely.

Every single solid inch of him went solid, and then he started to come.

He grunted out in surprise as his release left him, and I slumped onto his big, solid chest, no longer able to hold my head up.

“I can’t breathe,” I whispered into his muscled chest.

His breathing was labored.

Way too labored.

And his heart was pounding so hard I could feel it against my cheek.

He chuckled, his hand coming out to pat my ass lightly.

I licked my lips and tried to find the will to sit up but couldn’t muster any effort.

My vocal cords still worked, though.

“So does this mean you’re not mad at me?” I whispered into the muscled chest I was using as a pillow.

He grunted out a laugh and pulled out of me, rolling us until I was on my stomach in the bed, and he was between my splayed thighs.

His hand came down hard on my ass, and I squawked.

He fell onto the mattress beside me, and I closed my eyes, listening to his labored breathing.

That’s when my heart started to pound for an altogether different reason.

He was sick.

I knew he was.

“Murphy…” I started.

“Don’t ruin it,” he whispered gruffly. “I’ll tell you. Just not right now.”

I felt my heart squeeze tightly, my lungs constricting.

“Okay,” I whispered.

I’d give him until the morning.

That was all.

“Tonight, we’re going to pretend,” he whispered gruffly, pulling me in tighter to his side.

My head went against the large wall of his chest. His chest hair tickled my nose and lips, but I didn’t pull away.

Instead, I listened to his heart and closed my eyes. I stayed like that for so long that Murphy’s breathing finally evened out, and his body stilled to the point where he seemed asleep.

I couldn’t stop myself from voicing my words, even if I’d wanted to. “What if I don’t want to pretend?”

He didn’t answer, so I knew he was asleep.

But the intensity that hit me at the knowledge of how serious I was about not wanting to pretend nearly knocked the breath out of me.

I wanted this to be real.

I wanted this to be mine forever.

I wanted Alessio more than I wanted my next breath.

But I was afraid that it was too late for that.

He was already halfway gone.

I was proved right only eight hours later.