No Chance by Lisa Suzanne
CHAPTER 33: HANNAH
There’s no mistaking what’s about to happen. We’ve both made our intentions clear, and I’m both excited and incredibly nervous.
I’ve only done this a few other times and with just one other guy.
He’s done this probably thousands of times with many different partners.
Middle school health classes told me I have things to be worried about here, but my inexperience is preventing me from knowing how to even ask what I should ask.
His big hand is splayed on my thigh as we ride back to the hotel, and my hand rests over his. He leans in and nuzzles my neck, and butterflies take flight in my tummy again.
“Have you, uh, done it with a lot of women?” I whisper so the driver doesn’t hear me. Mortified heat creeps up my neck.
His eyes lift to mine, and he looks a little embarrassed, too. He lifts a shoulder. “Yeah.”
“I’m...um...I haven’t done this a lot.”
“How many?” he asks, and his voice is low and hot close to my ear.
I shake my head. “Just one guy.”
His eyes turn a little stormy. “I hate that there’s even one. I don’t want to think about him.”
My insides flutter again. “I don’t want to think about your thousands, either.”
“Probably not thousands,” he murmurs, but probably means maybe, which also means maybe not. “But the number doesn’t matter. The feelings do.”
“The feelings?” I repeat.
“I want this, Hannah,” he says quietly. His fingers flex on my thigh. “I want you, and I want to see what comes next. I’ve never wanted that before, which already makes you different than the others.”
I feel like he’s reassuring me because of my inexperience—like he’s saying it’ll be good because he feels something for me, but I’m not as nervous about whether I’ll be able to perform as I am about his history. Bringing up health right before you’re about to do it is among the least sexy things I can think of, but worrying about it the whole time is even worse.
“Thank you for saying that.” I trace a pattern on the back of his hand, my eyes following my fingers. “I guess I just want to make sure that you’ve, um, been safe with the others.”
I peek over at him, and a lightbulb seems to go off above his head. “Oh! Yeah. I mean, you know, things happen, obviously given the fact that I have a son, but I had a physical right before we left for tour. We’re good to go.”
A wave of relief washes over me, and that’s when the anticipation for what we’re about to do tramples over the nerves.
The ride back to the hotel feels endless, but once we pull up, we both leap out of the car and practically run toward the elevator. The nerves spring back up as we get closer to naked time.
We’re not alone on the elevator, but we are backed into a corner. His hand meanders down and he squeezes my ass. I slap a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing, and when I look up at him, he’s grinning. Once again, he finds a way to calm my anxiety.
He holds my hand as we step off the elevator and head toward our room. He kicks the door shut behind him then follows me into the bedroom of our quiet, empty room. He wastes no time as he pulls my shirt over my head and tosses it to the floor. He draws me in close to him, and his mouth crashes to mine as his calloused palms move down the skin of my back. They’re at once comforting and rough, the scratch there somehow soothing as his tongue moves against mine.
I grip the bottom of his shirt, and as he backs up to pull it over his head, I give myself just a second to ogle those abs. His entire body is a beautiful sight to behold, and somehow, someway, right now...it’s my playground.
I run my fingertips along the ridges of his abdomen, and he closes his eyes for a beat as if he’s really allowing himself to feel this moment. He opens his eyes and flicks the button of my jeans. He pushes them down my thighs, taking my panties with them, and I kick off my shoes when he gets to the bottom. I unhook my bra and toss it to the floor, too, and suddenly I stand naked in a hotel room as Brett Pitzer takes his turn to ogle me.
I’m exposed and uncomfortable under his gaze until he calms my fears with his words. “You’re perfect.” He pulls me into his arms and kisses me with all this pent-up passion that’s been brewing between us, and that needy ache between my legs intensifies to a throb. He palms one of my breasts while his other hand moves along my torso and settles on my hip. His fingertips dig into me, and I want his fingers to move lower and pump in and out of me.
I push at his jeans to indicate that I want them off and I’m ready for what’s next, and he gladly backs up and steps out of them. My eyes widen as they fall to the thick erection that he’s about to ram into me.
The last time I was dry as a desert—so dry, in fact, that we had to use lube and it was still uncomfortable. And Brett is much bigger than my last partner.
Is this going to hurt? Or will it feel better than the last time?
I guess the only way to find out is to go through with it. And I want to...but now that I’ve seen how long and thick he actually is, I’m scared.
When he stands naked in front of me, I murmur the same words he just said because they’re the only ones that come to mind. “You’re perfect.”
And he is.
When he pulls me back into his arms, his lips crash to mine. His body is warm. His dick settles against my stomach, and it’s hot and hard. That throb between my legs becomes unbearable, and then he sweeps me into his arms and carries me to the bed.
“Hang on.” He leaves for a second to rummage through his duffel bag, and then he rips open the wrapper of a condom. I watch from my spot on the bed as he rolls it on, making quick work of something he’s done thousands of times.
I’m silent on the bed. For one, I don’t know what to say, but for another, I’m halfway torn between need for him and fear that I won’t be good enough for him.
Anticipation is thick in the air around us as he stalks toward me, his wicked body intimidating and his eyes dark and stormy even in the room lit by the midday sun. And then he climbs onto the bed.
He hovers over me for a beat, his eyes hot on mine. “God, you’re hot.”
I can’t help a small laugh. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
He laughs then leans down to kiss me before he moves to the side of me, his mouth still on mine. His fingers trail to my nipple, which he squeezes before he thumbs it soothingly. He replaces his fingers with his mouth as his hand moves down my torso, and still down further before he slides a finger through my wet heat.
He hisses as he feels how wet I am for him.
I don’t know if I’ve ever been this wet before.
“Holy shit, Hannah,” he murmurs against my skin, and I take it his words are a good thing since he pushes his finger into me.
My hips buck up as my body takes on a mind of its own, trying to pull him in down to the knuckle. He leaves his finger in there and hooks it around before he pulls it out and spreads my moisture all around my clit. Then he pumps his finger back in, and my eyes roll back with pleasure.
“I can’t wait to stick my cock in you, but first I’m going to make you come on my hand,” he says, and holy hell those are the dirtiest, hottest words that have ever been spoken to me.
Between his mouth on my breast, his heat beside me, his words, his tongue flicking the tight bud of my nipple, and his finger moving inside me, I’m lost in a sea of need.
And then he adds a second finger to the mix, and it’s incredible. Bright, white stars flash across my vision and then everything seems to go black for a second as a surge of pleasure rips through me. I squeeze my legs together as I clamp one hand onto his shoulder, my nails digging into his skin, and I fist the sheets with my other hand. My body contracts on his fingers over and over, and he doesn’t let go. Instead, he shoves his palm against my clit to give me more friction as his fingers continue to thrust.
My climax seems to go on forever as I finally start to understand what all those movies are about.
He rides the wave with me until my body unclenches and I relax back into the pillow. He presses a soft kiss to my nipple then pulls his fingers from down below, and then he moves directly over me again.
He wastes no time as his dick dangles down, tickling the sensitive flesh between my legs. I can’t help a small giggle, and he raises a brow.
“I’m sorry. It’s just a little sensitive right now,” I explain, and he chuckles.
And then, instead of playing around and making me giggle more, he fists himself and lines up with my body before slowly, gently easing himself in.
My body is still recovering from the last release, but somehow I expand enough to allow him entrance, and if I liked how his fingers felt...well this is a whole new dimension.
“Jesus Christ, Hannah,” he growls. “You’re tight and wet and fucking perfect.”
A thrill runs through my chest at his words, but it’s wrapped up with something so much more than that.
This is all the movies and all the love songs fully explained in one single thrust. This is birds singing and rainbows shining and sunshine days. This is sublime perfection.
And then he starts to move.
He’s slow at first, deliberate and gentle as my less skilled body gets used to his agile one, but then it’s like he knows when it’s time and he starts to drive into me faster and harder. I clamp both hands onto his shoulders as I work to keep up with his rhythm, my hips moving up to meet his thrusts beat for beat.
He moves a hand down to my hip to hold me in place, and then he uses the spring of the bed to propel himself into me hard and fast, gliding easily in and out over and over with my own personal lubricant. He’s moving so fast that all I can do is lie back and take it—and take it I do.
I never would’ve believed I’d so easily have one orgasm since in the past every star in the sky had to align for me to be able to find my release, but inexplicably those little white stars start to edge their way in again.
My nails dig into his shoulders as I feel the heat rip through my body, and then I clamp onto him as I fly headfirst into a second climax. He slows his thrusts as he feels my body clenching onto his from the inside, and just as I start to come down from the best orgasm of my life, he grunts loudly a few times.
“Fuck!” he yells, and then he slows nearly to a stop before he pumps slowly into me as he gives into his own release.
I watch his face as it screws up with pleasure, and I already know that face will be in my dreams tonight.
