Can’t Touch

by Wylder, Penny

  This feels like nothing I’ve ever experienced. Wet on wet, smooth as silk. Impossible pleasure gathers under my skin and spreads, all driven by his tongue. It circles my clit slowly and then faster. It swishes up underneath it, over and over again. It traces the sides until Kris finds that one place that causes everything else to glow. That one spot that makes me incapable of keeping quiet.

  His low laugh shivers across my skin. “You like that?”

  I can barely respond with anything other than a moan. He knows that I do. And I almost yell at him when he pulls away, moving down. South. Towards the other place where I’ve never had anyone. “What?” I clear my throat. “What are you doing?”

  Kris slides a hand up my belly, holding me in place. “I’m tasting you, Chianna. The deepest part of you.” I can actually feel him smiling against my skin. “Don’t worry. There will still be plenty of you for my cock to take.”

  And then he slides his tongue inside me, and the world turns white. I didn’t know that this was an option. Vibrators and lube are one thing, but now I know that they’ll never compare to this.

  Kris moves his tongue slowly, curling it inside me and pulling back before thrusting in again. He’s fucking me with that tongue. I can feel the first strings of my orgasm weaving together. “Oh my God.”

  Quickly, Kris moves his mouth back to my clit, drawing that infernal tongue up and over me until his entire focus is that tiny bundle of nerves that is about to make my world shatter. It’s a snowball turning into an avalanche. Those threads of feeling swirling together and getting stronger, brighter with every kiss and lick. That one damn spot that makes my hips lift off the floor. He doesn’t stop.

  My hands reach down and sink into his hair like my body knows what it’s doing more than I do. I don’t give a fuck—he can have control. I’m too busy coming.

  Pleasure breaks over me like a wave. A rush of everything perfect and beautiful in the world. The orgasm climbs and climbs, sharpening into one shining spiral, and blazes outward again, collapsing me back into my body and the heaving mess that I am back in reality.

  It takes me minutes to realize that I’m here and alive and not in some world of golden clouds. That’s a white ceiling over my head and Kris’s tongue is still between my legs. Slow, gentle licks that make me shake. “Holy shit.”

  He doesn’t stop, casually tasting me just like he said he was going to. Slow and steady. “That was incredible.”

  “It’s just the start, Chianna.” He props himself up on his elbows and smiles. “I don’t think I’ll ever be more grateful for not being able to sleep. Something I have you to thank for, by the way.”

  I sit up on my own elbows. “Me?”

  “I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he says. “And even after jerking off three times you were still in every dream.”

  My face flushes, but not from embarrassment. It’s heat. And brand-new need. “You did that? Thinking about me?”

  He nods. “And I’m going to have to do it again before going to work, after this.”

  “Oh. Right. I can—”

  I stop when I see his grin. “I’m a grown man, Chianna. I can live without an orgasm for a while. This was for you. If I have my way, there will be plenty of time for me.”

  “I think I’m excited to see your way,” I say.

  “Chianna?” A loud voice calls from the hallway outside. “You in here?”

  Dread drops through my body like ice, and I scramble for my pants. That’s Meynard’s voice. Why the fuck is he here? He knew I was going to the gym. Am I really that late getting back? I shove myself into my pants and fix my camisole just as Kris gets his shirt back on.

  Meynard strides into the room seconds later and stops short at seeing the two of us together. “Canterbar. Didn’t expect to see you here so early in the morning. Alone with my niece.”

  Kris just smiles that smile that could light up a thousand suns. “Couldn’t sleep and came for a run. Chianna here offered to show me some stretches after I finished.”

  The way he says it, there’s no doubting it. Even if my uncle still looks suspicious.

  Kris turns to me. “Thank you for working with me. I’m sure that those stretches will help.”

  “You’re welcome.” I wish that my voice didn’t sound strangled.

  Meynard watches Kris until he reaches the yoga room door and turns back to me. I watch seconds longer, and that’s when my whole body is set on fire. Shame. Humiliation. Arousal. I’m honestly not sure which it is. Because Kris is looking directly at me, my thong between his fingers.

  I was in such a rush to get ready that I didn’t even notice that it was gone.

  As I watch, he lifts it to his nose and inhales deeply, eyes closing like he’s smelling the best damn thing in the world. Then he tucks the lace into his pocket and winks before disappearing out of the gym. The whole thing takes seconds, and I feel like I’m spinning.

  “We need to get to the office early this morning,” Meynard says. “Get ready.”

  There’s no room for argument, and there’s no point in telling him that I didn’t actually get a chance to work out. At least not in the way that he’s thinking. So I gather my mat and everything else, and I follow him back to the apartment.

  I’m not at all thinking about my missing panties or what he might do with them.

  Nope.

  Not at all.

  6

  Kris

  I make it to my apartment before they appear in the hall. They’re probably only seconds behind me, but I don’t want to be seen at the moment. I’m barely holding on as it is.

  The fact that Meynard dislikes me enough not to look too closely is a good thing. Because one glance and he would have been able to tell exactly just how much I want his niece. I’m so fucking hard that I can’t breathe.

  Damn it to hell, I’m not going to make it all the way to the shower. I don’t even make it past the entryway before I’m dragging my shorts down around my thighs and grabbing my cock.

  But not before grabbing that fucking piece of lace that’s driving me absolutely crazy. Chianna is turning all of my self-control into dust. When I saw this thong on her, I nearly came in my pants. There’s nothing that I love more than a wet woman in lace. The way you can see the glistening arousal through it, like a perfect gift waiting to be unwrapped—holy fuck, it’s making me want to go to her door and drag her here to ravish her again, Meynard be damned.

  Oh fuck.

  The images are spiraling through my head. I can’t stop them. And the way that Chianna looked at me when I told her that I took my pleasure from her, tells me that she doesn’t want me to.

  I force myself to slow down. Strokes that are good enough to make me go over the edge, but I’m going to hold it as long as I possibly can. I want to savor this. The rough edges of the lace scrape along my cock with just enough sensation to make it that much better. And man, I cannot wait to take her further.

  But even just tasting her again would be enough. Chianna tastes almost fruity. Frankly, better than any wine that I’ve tasted. If I tell her that, she’ll blush that shade of red that I’ve already learned is her tell for arousal. All the more reason to tell her.

  I love her when she’s flushed and panting just for me.

  A virgin.

  Brand new pleasure spikes through me, all the way from my balls to my skull. A virgin. I’m going to make sure that I’m her first everything. No matter what. Every fantasy of hers and mine. It doesn’t matter what she wants, I’ll give it to her.

  I’ll paint a picture for her, giving her ideas about all the things we could do together.

  In my mind I see her in my bed, hands and feet tied to the posts, writhing as I make her come over and over again. I imagine what I told her I wanted—fucking her breasts and teasing her mouth with my cock until I come across that sweet tongue. And make her swallow it.

  Fuck.

  I pull my orgasm right back from the edge. No. Not yet. I need more of this,
and her.

  Chianna’s on her knees in front of me, bright red lipstick on that gorgeous mouth. She’s grinning up at me like that’s the only place that she wants to be. I groan in my mind and in real life when I envision her taking me deep and drawing back, painting my dick red with her lips. And then deeper still, until there’s none of my cock left. It’s all in her throat.

  Virgin.

  She won’t be able to do that yet. But if she has any interest at all, I’ll gladly help her learn. Chianna’s body is a blank canvas and I cannot wait to help her paint it with brand new experiences.

  And that’s when I see her as she was today. Sexy and sweating. Sprawled on the floor. I imagine her just like that, but in my bed. Slowly, I undress her. This time I don’t leave anything on her skin. She’s bare before me and looking up with those fucking gorgeous green eyes, and she’s all mine.

  Her breath is short. She’s nervous for this, but ready. I can see how wet she is. Feel is with my fingers first, and then my tongue. I make her come twice before I even think about taking her—wait until she’s a fucking puddle on the sheets.

  And then I push in. Will she be as tight as I imagine? Will she give me that little gasp that I crave?

  Curses fly out of me, and I come. I can’t hold it any longer, lightning blazing down my spine and through my cock. It’s blindingly bright and so damn good I can barely keep stroking my cock through the pleasure. But I know that this won’t be a sliver of what I feel when I do actually take her.

  I spill everything I have onto that damn thong between my fingers. It feels like I’m claiming her. Marking her as mine even though she’s not here. And hell, I like that thought. I want to claim her as mine. Only a day and I already want to make sure that she never touches anyone else.

  Down deep, where that animal instinct lies, I know that she’s mine. The sooner I see her again, the better. Because I have a feeling that she knows that she’s mine too. She just has to tell me.

  I would never force her. But when she says yes? It’ll be a whole new world for both of us. A world where I taste that exquisite pussy every day. I’ll become a connoisseur of the way she tastes and make her blush in the process. I’ll memorize her body so that I know exactly how to make her come whenever she wants—and whenever I want.

  Suddenly I realize that I’m still leaning against my closed front door, heaving breath with my cock in my hand. I need to get ready for work. I don’t care if it’s early—the sooner I get to the office, the sooner I can see Chianna.

  There is work I have to do today, but I already know that she’s the thing that’s really going to be dominating my thoughts. My proposal is excellent. And it’s already mostly done. It’s just down to the details now.

  I’m going to win. It’s just a feeling in my gut, but I’m rarely wrong. Just like I have the feeling about a young woman who’s dancing through my thoughts.

  It takes everything in my power not to jerk off again once I finally make it to the shower. God, I want to. But another orgasm right now and I might have to go back to fucking bed after getting so little sleep.

  Everything that I do to get ready, I do for her. I pick clothes I know look good, and make sure everything is perfect. To me, it doesn’t matter if we’re at the office. I want her fucking drooling over me.

  As I gather my briefcase and other things, I hear voices in the hall. It sounds like Meynard, the bastard. I wish that Chianna wasn’t his niece. It would make things easier. And it would also explain how they seem so different. Meynard is a scheming snake. Chianna seems like anything but. Her face is so easy to read that it might as well be an open book.

  I step out into the hallway, and it is him. With Chianna. Just like last night, she’s loaded down with office supplies. Two boxes stacked perilously on top of each other, and the bulletin board tucked beneath her arm—though it looks like that might drop at any moment.

  Meynard holds nothing but his briefcase in his hands, and he strides down the hallway in front of her like she’s a pack animal. I have to take a few breaths to temper my rage. The way he treats her is so dismissive. I’ve only seen a couple of interactions and it’s all been the same. Why does he think that he can do that?

  “Here,” I say, jogging to catch up with her down the hallway. “Let me help you.”

  Fuck, I startled her. Chianna nearly drops one of the boxes when she hears my voice, and Meynard turns with a sneer. “You don’t have to help her. She’s got it.”

  “I’m sure she does have it,” I say. “That doesn’t mean that she should have to.”

  Her face flushes, but this time it doesn’t feel right. It’s not a good flush. It’s one of embarrassment. Did I do the wrong thing here? Too late now, I guess. Taking the top box from her, I see the relief in her eyes, even if she is embarrassed. “We’re going the same direction anyway, right?”

  “Right,” she says softly.

  The three of us in the elevator is the most tension that I’ve experienced in a long time. Faded music hums in the background, and I’m aware of every inch of the woman standing in front of me. And it seems like Meynard is aware of every inch of me, given the hatred that’s rolling off him in waves.

  The lobby is empty, and Chianna hurries to the door. Meynard doesn’t even bother to open it for her as she struggles to push through with her things.

  “Our car is there,” he says to me as we exit the building. “Now give her the box.”

  I smile at Chianna as I place the box back precariously on top of the first one. She doesn’t smile back. She power walks away from me toward the car. She’s practically on the verge of running. It’s a fight to hide my smile. She’s completely unaware of how good that makes her ass look, and I’m totally fine with watching.

  “I don’t know what you’re playing at, Canterbar,” Meynard says in a low voice, stepping into my space. “But knock it the fuck off.”

  Meeting his eyes, I stare at him evenly. “I’m not doing anything, Meynard. And if me offering to help someone carry their things is anything more than common human decency to you, I don’t know what to tell you. Except maybe you should keep your eyes to yourself and find some of that same decency. Especially for a member of your own family. Who’s living in your house.”

  Meynard’s eyes narrow, and he looks at me like he can unveil all my secrets by focusing his own personal laser beams on me. Lucky for me, I have an excellent poker face.

  He stalks away from me toward the car, but he doesn’t get into it without looking back at me first with another glare. This time I smile. He’ll never know just how much he gets under my skin. I don’t need to give him that kind of weapon.

  I keep the smile plastered on my face until the car disappears down the block. Then I call my own car. The decision settles in me before I even realize that I’ve made it. No matter what happens between me and Chianna—and I plan on a lot happening—I’m going to help her.

  It doesn’t matter that she’s Meynard’s niece or the fact that he got the job for her. She obviously said yes to the job to get some work experience. Not be an office temp doing kindergarten crafts for her uncle. That’s not fair to her on any level.

  So aside from educating her in all the ways that I can make her scream, I’m going to do everything that I can do to help her nail this internship. And after that? I’ll help her get whatever job she wants. Whether or not it’s with me.

  Sliding into the backseat of my car, I subtly adjust my pants. I can only hope that in the process I can convince her that, at least on a personal level, she belongs with me. Because deep down I know that she’s mine.

  7

  Chianna

  It’s almost halfway through the day and so far I’ve done a good job avoiding Kris, no matter what my traitorous body has to say about it. What I really want to do is find him and drag him into the supply closet and beg him to shower me with pleasure and take my mind off all the other things swirling around in there.

  Things like my uncle and how I’m sta
rting to regret taking this job and his offer to live with him at all.

  As soon as we were out of sight of the apartment building, he wouldn’t stop talking. About me. About Kris. About me and Kris together. I honestly wished that I could disappear.

  His monologue has been running through my head on repeat all morning.

  “I’m glad that you left a note about where you were this morning, though I’m a little surprised at you. I thought that you wanted this job? You’ll get enough exercise walking around the office. Going to the gym is a waste of time. Instead of doing yoga and playing personal trainer with Kris fucking Canterbar, you could have used that time to work more on the presentation.”

  I kept looking out the window. “I’m sorry.”

  “Your work last night was acceptable, but that’s all that it was. If you want to do well here, you’re going to have to put in the time and make the sacrifices. Even if that means not going to the gym in the morning.”

  The fact that I’d gotten up to go to the gym at five o’clock in the morning wasn’t mentioned. Or the fact that I’d done everything and more that he wanted on the presentation last night. I’d worked until I was practically falling asleep standing up. I don’t know what I could have done more or better—I’m sure he’ll give me a list at some point today.

  By the time that we got to the office, I was grateful for the busywork tasks that he gave me just so I could finally get away from him.

  I don’t think Meynard liked that I didn’t enthusiastically agree with him about the fact that I could have done more. Up until now, I’ve been almost overly enthusiastic about this job. I still am. I’m still here, I still want to learn, but even though it’s only been a few days, it feels like nothing is happening. And based on what he’s given me to do so far, it feels like that’s the way it’s going to stay.

  The truth is, I don’t agree with him. But then again, maybe that’s not fully on me. Maybe it’s Kris. He burst in, all hot and sexy, and distracted me. If he hadn’t rescued me from Meynard’s rebuke yesterday, I maybe wouldn’t have noticed him. If he hadn’t cornered me in that supply closet yesterday, maybe I wouldn’t have wanted him. If he hadn’t been in the gym this morning looking as delicious as sin, maybe I would have been back to the apartment before Meynard even realized that I was gone.