Enough For Each Other

This good sex story from The Refusal by Eve M. Riley is published with permission.

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Something washes through Jo’s face as she stills my hand creeping up her torso.

“What?” I raise myself farther up on my elbows on the bed so I can see her face better. “What is it?”

She purses her mouth, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. “I’m small, Janus.”

“What do you mean you’re small?”

“My breasts are small,” she whispers, and her cheeks flush, eyes dropping away to the side.

I can’t help the smile that bubbles up, and I bury my face in her neck as she stiffens under me.

I lift up again on my arms, shaking my head. “Did you actually just say that?

You need to understand how long I’ve thought about …” She’s tense and motionless under me. “What …?”

I shake my head again. “Okay.” I close my eyes and let my lips quirk up. “So, let’s think. Small, beautifully pale, with a smattering of copper-colored freckles spilling across creamy white skin, perfect brown nipples sitting high and tight.” I’m getting increasingly hard describing what has been so vivid in my imagination for so long and, as I push my erection into her, her ribs shift as she takes a sharp inhalation of breath.

“Okay, I’m going to go for bust here and tell you that I even searched ‘redhead’s small breasts’ on the Internet.” Heat inches up my throat with this admission, so I collapse back down, burying my head back against her ear.

Her whole body slumps under me, and I feel her cheek curving against my temple, so I pull back as her unchecked grin dissolves into a delighted snort.

“What’s so funny?”

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“Let me get this right,” she gasps out. “Janus Phillips—the Janus Phillips— the one who’s built a billion-dollar tech company—searched for ‘redhead’s small breasts’ online? How come you haven’t been arrested?” Her whole body starts shaking with laughter, and warmth slips through me. Maybe I’m managing to diffuse this.

I grin at her. “If you have to ask me this, then you don’t understand how many times I have imagined these breasts.” I inch my hands upward to rest on her dress covering the small mounds, not confident enough to do anything more with her, even thumb her nipples. They harden minutely under my palms, and I lean forward to nip her lower lip.

As her laughter fades away, her eyes roam back and forth between mine. “I just don’t want you to be disappointed,” she whispers. “You’ve dated some of the most gorgeous women—”

I close my eyes, groaning. I’ve never regretted my dating history as much as I do right now.

“It wasn’t like that. They weren’t proper dates and anyway, it’s you,” I say, wanting her to be over this anxiety, to understand. “I don’t want you because you’re beautiful, although you absolutely are, I want you because you’re you.” I close my eyes swallowing. “I don’t want anyone else.”

“Including my small breasts?” My eyes pop open to catch her scrunched-up face, clearly trying to lighten the intensity that’s descended like a cloud. Too much, too soon, Janus.

But it feels wrong to hold back now, wrong to make jokes, even if I understand why she’s doing it. I growl and grind my erection into her, closing my eyes.

“I can’t joke about this, I’m …” I push up on my arms. “You have no idea how thrilled and anxious I am about this, do you? I didn’t think for the longest time you’d want this, want me. You seemed so determined to keep me at arm’s length, so turned off with my reputation …”

I need some distance, so I sit back on my heels and run both hands over my face. I want to be honest. She opens her mouth, but I barrel on. “I know you saw the pictures online and decided to stay away, chose to be colleagues and possibly friends, and I’ve regretted every evening I’ve spent with other women, knowing it could drive away the woman I really want.”

Her lips part. She sits up, sliding her hands up my jean-clad legs, hands coming to rest on the creases of my hips, tantalizingly close to where I really want them.

“I always wanted this too, Janus. I just didn’t think I was glamorous or beautiful or famous enough for you, and I didn’t want to be second best, being compared and not reaching some gold standard.”

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“Fuck, no.” I growl. “How could you even think that?” Damn, that’s crazy. “With what you do, what you’ve achieved? How gorgeous you are? Couldn’t you tell how into you I was every time we saw each other?”

She licks her lips and stares at me, mute. The air conditioning hums, water drips somewhere deep in the suite, muffled footsteps pad down the corridor. Eventually, she pulls back and stretches behind her, unzipping her dress and peeling it down her torso, and I lean backward, tugging it down and off as she lifts her hips. She’s all freckles and white lace. She unclasps her bra and lets it fall down her arms, lying back on her elbows.

My breath stutters in my chest. Seeing her for the first time … I’ve imagined this too often to be healthy. I want to touch, and I don’t. I want to put off knowing the feeling of her skin because, after that first stroke, I’ll want it again and again. Rushing through all these firsts … just … no way. A low rumble builds under my ribs as her eyes meet mine. The reality is infinitely better than my imagination, patterns in the freckles, pink tips to her brown nipples, small and beautiful. I know without touching them they will fit my hands perfectly. I want trace and learn every mark.

“Good?” she says, her hand sneaking up my thigh again, and the scratch of her tiny fingers brings out goose bumps all over my body.

“You have no idea. Is it acceptable when you’re with a woman for the first time to spend hours staring?”

Her lips tip up. “You tell me. Although,”—she nods at my shirt—“I might well want to do the same.”

I laugh and she sits up, copper curls falling over one shoulder, reaching up to feather her lips over mine, her nipples brushing my chest and, with one tug on the back of my neck, my shirt is up and over my head, tossed roughly behind me.

Her mouth is a perfect O, and it is so fucking hot watching her shift back to look at me, eyes snagging on my nipples before concentrating on my happy trail disappearing down into my jeans.

“Good?” I echo her words.

She swallows. “I’ve imagined this, too … Well”—a pause—“maybe I’ve also looked at pictures of you online.”

I love Jo’s lack of filter sometimes. Here is the evidence she’s been interested; that I’m not just persuading her into this.

“So, you searched for ‘Janus Phillips half naked’?” My eyebrows disappear into my hairline.

She grins, her hands coming up to trail down my chest, and my cock presses harder against my jeans as she feathers her fingers down the center of my stomach, playing with the soft hair there, skin jumping under her touch.

“Oh yes, but I only found one or two decent pictures. They’re my guilty pleasure.”

I can hardly stop myself from throwing her back on the bed and growling at her. I stare at her naked breasts, much closer now.

“Why aren’t you touching me?” she whispers, eyes meeting mine then dancing away again. A faint pink is blooming on her cheeks.

I roll my eyes. “Let me enjoy, okay? Once I feel how soft you are, I’ll never forget it. It will be better, but I don’t want to rush through the firsts; the first time I saw you naked and stared and stared.” I nod at her breasts and groan again. “I want to come all over you.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I want to swallow my tongue: Have I no filter either? But her eyes dance at me.

“Please?” she says, voice wobbling.

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I shake my head; she deserves better than me behaving like an overeager kid.

“Oh yes, Janus, that’s so hot.”

She wants this? “Can I …?” I hesitate. “Is it weird?” Fuck it sounds weird to me—weird and creepy.

She shakes her head, and I push myself up on my knees and start on the buttons on my fly. She closes her eyes and emits a noise I’ve never heard before, halfway between a growl and moan. Something about that sound coming out of her tiny body makes me laugh.

‘What?’ I say.

‘You’re not the only one with fantasies you know.’ She licks her bottom lip before worrying it with her teeth, eyes fixed on my hands.

I pop the last button, and she leans forward, peeling the denim back, pushing my jeans down my hips as I lift onto my knees. Standing, I shuck them off and return to the bed. She’s staring at the outline of my cock straining against my black stretch boxers, and she runs her finger around it softly, sending crazy tingling all through my crotch. My legs tense. Christ. I still her hand, shaking my head, and her pout is a work of magic. My lungs no longer seem to be working as I desperately try to suck in air, giving a hoarse laugh.

“As you can probably tell, I’m beyond turned on here.” I hold on to her hand. “This could be fast, but I don’t want it to be. I don’t think I’m going to have much control first time around.” I try and swallow, but my throat is like sandpaper. I want this to be good for her.

She nods, settling back on her elbows again and I stare at her breasts, the freckles winding around her torso and disappearing into her panties: two together right next to one nipple. I lean forward, and her hand hits my stomach, fumbling under the elastic waistband of my boxers. Her lips part as her fingers graze my tip.

“Can I …?” she says and slips her hand around me, her thumb exploring gently as her gaze fixes on mine, pupils dark and wide against the sea green of her eyes.

“You feel …”

I nod and nod and nod, eyes fluttering closed. No way. No way. A fire has started on the forest floor, out of control. My head snaps back at the feeling tickling down my length as she runs her thumb back and forward over the head.

“Janus, I …” she whispers, and I tip my head forward to find her expression full of awe, hips shifting on the bed.

Sweat prickles on the back of my neck. I look down at her breasts and fight to hold off orgasming in about thirty seconds flat.

“Shit. Fuck. Slow down.” Gasping, I pull back, but her gaze is riveted on how I’m jumping in her hand, and she follows me up, not stopping, not holding back for a second. Her other hand scrabbles at my hip to push my boxers down. “Don’t hold back.” Her teeth press into my chest like a prayer. “I want it to

be fast, I want to see what I do to you.” “Bad girl.”

My jaw pops as I grind my teeth, and through half-closed lids I catch the wicked smile stretching her mouth. It reminds me of the Jo from the elevator; the impish one that doesn’t often come out to play. There are all these different, mysterious Jos and I want to own every one. She pulls me forward as she lies down and I straddle her hips, staring down at how her nipples have hardened to a pinky rose. Her hand and circling thumb rub and rub, and the visual of coming all over the miles of creamy skin in front of me almost finishes me off. I bend forward, wheezing.

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“Oh, Christ.” Her hand is slick with pre-come. “I’m desperate to touch you.” I groan, curling down and burying my face in her neck, but she just grips me harder and plays with the underside of my cock. My orgasm hovers just out of reach, coursing down my legs and climbing up my length, swelling and tightening. She’s shifting under me and a telltale warmth spreads through my pelvis as I straighten, thrusting into her hand, messy and frantic. She tightens her grip in the best way, and before I can stop it, I am holding myself on one arm shaking and shuddering, spilling all over her chest. Her smile is so unrestrained it lights up every dusty corner.

“What?” I rasp. Fuck, I can’t breathe. The room swims for a moment. Heart pounding, I collapse down over her. The quiet ticks around us and sweat pools on my forehead and runs down the side of my face.

“You’re right, that was fast,” she says, and I nuzzle into her throat before pulling back to catch her dancing green eyes, the freckle right under her left eyelash. How come I didn’t notice that one before?

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” I shake my head with regret. “What a dick I am.”

I shift to kiss her cheek, my own heating as my apology spills forward. “What guy comes first, and so fast, his first time with a woman?”

But she’s still smiling and shaking her head. “You’re kidding, right? I love how quick that was. I’m ridiculously proud of the fact that I made Janus Phillips come in about sixty seconds flat.”

Her eyes are clear and bright and—fuck me—they’re happy. I feel like a king. Trailing a finger down the center of her chest, I pick up the liquid and circle each nipple. She blinks down at my hand before closing her eyes.

“I need to play now,” I say as a slight pink color builds on her neck. Fuck yeah. I’m not sure about the reality of my mess all over her, though; whether she likes it.

“Let me find a cloth to clean you up.” I wander into the bathroom, dick in hand, and when I come back she’s watching me, still smiling.

“What?” I say.

“I don’t know. It makes me happy seeing you walk around naked, doing intimate man things.”

I’ve never felt a woman liked me for precisely who I am. At college I was inexperienced and awkward, and since then I’ve done what’s convenient: I can’t explain the distance that’s developed. I feel bare here. Real. Relaxed for the first time in a decade. I want to wrap Jo in cotton wool and keep her in my bed forever. I walk on the bed on my knees wiping her down carefully, stretching over and putting the facecloth on the nightstand. Her hands scratch down my chest, and I lean down to brush my mouth against hers, tasting fruit and coffee. Finally, I let my hand stroke her breast and settle down at her side to watch myself do it, running my fingers around each flawless freckle. She arches into my hand, and I circle gently around the edges, avoiding her hard nipples still

damp from the cloth. So fucking soft.

I groan. “Your breasts are amazing.”

I glance up at her face, and her cheeks are flushed but her eyes are doubtful.

Tilting my head at her, I say, “What? You don’t think they are?”

She purses her lips. “No man has ever thought my breasts were amazing. One guy told me they were ‘really small.’” She makes air quotes. My jaw tightens with a crack. Some dick gave her a complex? Fuck that.

“Well, he’s clearly an idiot, as he gave up these.” I stroke over the tips, and her breath changes, emitting gusty little exhales. “What sane guy would do that?”

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Bending forward, I take a nipple into my mouth and flick it gently. Her skin tastes sweet, like warm apples.

“Please.” She pushes up. “Janus.”

Thumb on one stiff peak, I use the flat of my tongue to wet the other tip which stiffens as I play with it. Blowing on the damp freckles, I draw back, and she squirms, reaching out to tug me closer. I shake my head.

“Guys like to watch. I want to make you come apart with my hands and my mouth. I want to taste you.” The idea makes my whole body tighten, and I trail my hand slowly down her body.

“Janus,” she whimpers, as my hand drags down her stomach to her panties. I’ve come all over her chest, and she’s not even naked.

My cock lifts again at the mere thought of seeing how hot and wet she is. I slip my hand in, and she wiggles, clearly desperate to give me room to explore.

“Shit, Jo.”

No stopping now; she’s soaked and slippery and I haven’t even touched her. My whole body vibrates, like a dog shaking off water. I groan, rolling into her and burying my face in her neck, nuzzling and licking her skin, tasting sweat and more soft sweetness.

“Fuck. So wet.”

Her hips shift into my hands as I move my finger, and I slide my hand back down and inside her, and she gasps as I lean in to capture her breath.

“More fingers,” she wheezes, hips lifting.

I need better access, so I help her push the lace down as she flicks her feet. I inspect her tiny body, but before I’ve had my fill, her head comes up to mine, capturing my bottom lip in her teeth, whispering, “More,” against my lips, and my chest aches with the need to give, give, give. I run my tongue along her lower lip, watching her eyelids droop. 

Gradually pulling my finger out, I add another, and she widens her legs, head tipping back as I use my thumb to brush lightly over her clit. Her neck is damp with sweat as I trail kisses up to her ear, biting her lobe gently. “How many orgasms are you going to let me give you tonight? How many times can I watch you fall apart; watch myself doing this to you over and over and over again?”

The slim length of her is stretched right out, my erect cock by her hip. I rub it experimentally against her. She snakes her hand down to touch me and I maneuver away.

“Uh-huh.” I shake my head as my eyes meet the confusion in hers. “This is about you. I want to watch.”

She pouts through a half smile, and I curl over to capture her mouth. “As long as I get to play later,” she mumbles against my lips.

I can feel the accumulated frustration of the last couple of months disappearing like air whistling out of a pressure valve.

I laugh. “Oh, you can count on that.” “As many times as I like?”

Fuck but I love how her inclination is to give as good as she gets.

“I’m not sure how many rounds you’ll get out of him, but you can do anything you like to me.”

*