Nothing Compares To The Real Thing

It happened without a warning, without giving me time to think or even decide. One minute, I was sitting on a barstool, feeling this stranger’s warmth, my body growing heated from his warmth, his words, and then the next, I was all over him–me, not him–grabbing his hair and slamming my lips on his, kissing him in front of the whole bar where everyone could see. I didn’t have a single care in the world. 

He kissed me back, groaning into my mouth and grabbing my ass. I jumped, wrapping my legs around his waist. 

“Take me somewhere,” I muttered against his lips. “Somewhere private.”

He groaned his agreement into my mouth, already moving, but he had to break the kiss so he could see where he was going. I wasn’t happy with that, so I kissed his neck, his jaw, and his throat. 

“Isabella,” he breathed, and we both froze. 

I raised my head and looked at him, still unable to see clearly. 

“I didn’t tell you my name.”

“You did,” he muttered as he kept walking. 

I tilted my head. “I… did?”

“Yes, beautiful.”

He put me down, gesturing behind me. “Enter?”

A question, I noticed, like he didn’t know if I still wanted this. 

I entered without hesitation, and he followed, grunting to the driver, “Drive.”

Before the driver even started the car, he was on me, kissing me again, more rough, more eager. 

“All the years I’ve spent dreaming of this, imagining what it’ll feel like to touch you, doesn't come close to the real thing.” He bit my neck, and I moaned softly. “Nothing beats the real thing.”

“What are–”

He kissed me, biting my tongue, and I moaned deeply, pressing myself harder against him. 

We reached whenever we were going, and that was when we finally broke the kiss, our lips swollen and mine throbbing, but I wanted more. God, I NEEDED more. I barely remembered him carrying me up a flight of stairs, but I remembered when we stepped into a room, and he placed me on the bed like I was an egg. I remembered him trailing kisses over any bare skin he could find, and I remembered thinking to myself as he stood up and towered over me, “I wish I could see his face.”

But I know I won't be able to do that until I've sobered up. That’s the con of drinking alcohol for me. 

I couldn’t see his face, but I could see his eyes because they were such bright, vibrant green. 

“Tell me if you really want this or not,” he said in a low, rough voice as he slowly took off his jacket. “Tell me, and I’ll stop. I don’t want you to have regrets in the morning.”

“I’m definitely going to have regrets.” He froze. “I’m sleeping with a stranger, ain’t I? While I have a husband.”

He resumed taking off his clothes. “A stranger. A husband.”

His jacket and shirt came off, leaving him in his pants, which then came off, followed by his underwear.

God, I wanted to see him so badly. 

“I know you can’t see me,” he said, and my eyes went wide. “So come touch me, Isabella. Come feel me.”

“How did–”

“Questions will be asked in the morning, beautiful. Come here.”

Yes. Yes, questions will be asked in the morning. 

So I sat up and moved to him. He grabbed my hand softly and placed it on his chest. When I felt the hard muscles and smooth skin, I shuddered, my hand moving with urgency. It passed through his chest and his abs, then went lower. I gasped when I felt it, and he groaned. 

“Undress me,” I breathed as I stroked him and he moved his hips, thrusting into my hand. “Hurry.”

In seconds, I was naked, and he had me on my back with my legs spread while he was positioned between my legs. No words were said after that, just our rough breaths and my moan when he slowly inserted himself into me. 

It was the tip, just the tip, but I felt the burn, the stretch. He was large, thick, and long, and I knew I was about to have a wild night. 

He pushed into me, inch by sweet inch, until he was buried deep in me, my walls stretching to take him, and when he was fully in, they clenched around him. 

He moaned loudly, without restraint, shivering against me, and his dick pulsed in me. 

“Bella,” he breathed as he moved, and we both moaned. 

He started slowly, pulling out until just his tips remained before he pushed back in, slowly, taking his time, letting me feel every inch of him. I felt him throb and pulse, I felt his warmth. Everything. I felt everything, and it was all going to my head. I felt like I was floating in clouds. 

He pressed that sweet spot in me every time he thrust, and when my insides quivered, he would shiver and moan so deliciously. 

Slowly, he picked up pace, slamming in harder and faster. He was touching places in me I never thought a man could touch, hitting those places in me over and over until I was a shivering, moaning mess. I wrapped my arms around his neck, locking my legs around his waist to keep him in place. 

He kissed me, deeply, his tongue tangling with mine, sucking. 

His thrusts became faster, rougher, and my moans grew higher. 

“Fuck…” he moaned as he pulled back, grabbing my legs and placing them on his shoulders. This new position made him go deeper. 

I saw stars. 

My moans became gasps, my breath coming fast and short, my body shaking. 

When I came, I came with a sharp cry, my eyes squeezed tight, my body shaking so hard, I thought I was convulsing. 

When my climax took its course, my body went limp, and everything went dark. 

***

My head was pounding so hard that it felt like someone was in there, beating a drum. And that was what dragged me from sleep. When I opened my eyes, I hissed, shutting them. 

Bright. It was so bloody bright. I gave my eyes time to adjust, and when they finally did, I opened them again. I looked around, taking it all in, wondering how I got home. But the more I looked, the more this place looked unfamiliar. I sat up immediately, but I regretted that when a sharp pain made itself known in my waist and between my legs. 

My eyes went wide. 

“What… what happened?”

I looked around the room, but it was just me. 

I stood up slowly, wincing as I moved to the bathroom, but when I passed the mirror, I paused and went back to it.

When I saw my reflection, my scream shook the glass.