When she flicks her thumb over the candy-pink bra strap, I stand, stalk over to her, and run my hand down the lacy fabric of her bra. “Did you buy this for me?”
A coquettish jut of her hips is my first answer. Then a coy question: “What do you think?”
Sloane might have issues in the bedroom, but shyness is not one of them. She’s definitely not lacking in the confidence department, nor the flirtation one either. She’s bold, and it’s outrageously enticing.
“Let’s see,” I answer as I slide my hand down to her waist, savoring the feel of her soft skin. “I bet you went shopping. I bet you looked for something incomparably sexy.” My palm travels to her ass, cupping a cheek over the pink lace. “Maybe you even brought a friend along.” My hand slinks lower, my fingers sliding along that fantastic line where her ass meets the top of her thigh. “Maybe you tried on a number of different lingerie sets. Am I getting warmer?”
Her shoulders rise and fall, and she lets out a smoky, sexy sigh. “I’d say you’re getting hot. Getting me hot.”
A groan rumbles up my chest as I let go of her ass, pressing a kiss to her neck and brushing her hair away. I slip my palm between her legs. Heat. So much delicious heat. The way she responds is a thing of beauty, a total high.
“That’s how I want you,” I tell her. “Hot. Wet. Aching.”
“You’ve got me that way.” Desire blazes in her brown eyes. “Do you like imagining me trying this on? Wondering how I looked in the dressing room?”
Our words are the first step in tonight’s seduction. “I picture you in front of the mirror, gazing at your reflection, checking out how the bra pushes up your perfect tits. I bet you felt a rush of heat between your legs, knowing how much I’d want to rip these off you, knowing you’d drive me crazy looking like this.”
She shudders against me, her breath coming in a rush. “Do I? Drive you wild?”
“What do you think?”
She darts out a hand, stroking my hard-on through my jeans, her lips curving into a deliciously self-satisfied grin. “Yes. Wild. I think that’s a fair assessment.”
I push against her palm as she strokes my length. “Now that we’ve established we’re operating at off-the-charts levels of lust, there’s something I want to make clear.” I move my hands up her body until I’m holding her face.
“What is it?” A flicker of nerves crosses her brown eyes.
I shake my head, reassuring her. “Nothing you need to worry about. That’s the thing. I don’t want you to become obsessed with reaching the summit. I’m not saying you are. I just want you to feel good. Don’t think about the orgasm. If you have one, great. If you don’t, that’s okay too.”
“Are you sure?”
I smile. “Yes. I’m positive.”
“But the other night you said you wanted me to have one.”
“I know I said that, and I do want it, and you want it too.” I stroke the backs of my fingers across her cheek. “But what I’m trying to say is let’s take it as it goes. One moment at a time.”
She leans into my touch like a cat. “I can do that.”
“Don’t focus on the endgame if you can help it. Enjoy the ride, and whatever happens, happens. Does that sound good?”
“It sounds great. No one’s ever said that to me before.”
I cringe for a second, hating that we have to bring the past into the conversation, but I know it’s critical. “Has anyone ever tried to get you there? I mean, really tried?”
She shakes her head. “One guy tried to go harder, faster to get me there. Most didn’t care that I hadn’t come. The times I faked it, no one figured it out.”
A part of me likes that she’s never trusted anyone enough to tell them. Another piece wants to laugh at those poor schmucks for not even being able to add up the clues. Yet, another portion realizes what’s most important. She’s giving me the keys. She’s never given them to anyone else.
“You’ve found someone who is obsessed with your pleasure. Let me show you what that’s like.” Taking her hand, I walk her to my bedroom, flick on the light, and bring her to my bed. She lies down, resplendent and decadent on my navy-blue comforter.
“You, in that pink bra with your waves of blonde hair and your big brown eyes and your smooth skin—you look like a perfect piece of candy on a summer day, and I want to lick you all over.”
A shiver seems to run through her, like the prospect delights her senses. “Is that what you’re going to do?”
“Tomorrow is for burying my face between your legs and tasting you coming on my tongue. Tonight we have other plans, and you know it.” I head over to the nightstand. “You’re not the only one who did a little shopping.”
She sits up, eagerly clasping her hands. “What’d you get? What’d you get?”
After opening the drawer, I take out the gift I purchased for her. Her eyes widen when she sees the blue dolphin. “I figured we should set you up for success the first time.”
“Are you going to fuck me with that toy?” She says each word like she thoroughly enjoys the filthy way they roll around on her tongue. That’s yet another clue. Sloane wants to be unleashed. She wants to give in to abandon. She wants to feel everything she hasn’t felt with a man before. And I’m the lucky bastard who gets to guide her there.
I drag the silicone head of the toy down her belly. “Yes, I’m going to fuck you hard with this vibrator. So hard and so good that you’re going to grab the sheets, cry out in pleasure, and wonder how you’re ever going to fuck yourself solo again. I’m going to make it that good.”
She arches up against the toy and lets out the neediest groan. “I can’t take it anymore. Just get me naked and do bad things to me.”
31
When she puts it like that . . .
I slide down her panties, my breath evacuating from my lungs in a hot rush.
Shyly, almost demurely, she parts one leg only, like she’s offering me a glimpse of the promised land. “We could take your pants off too, Dr. Goodman,” she says.
“And will that turn you on even more?”
She slides a hand between her thighs, running a finger through her slickness, then offering it to me. “You tell me. Is it possible for me to be more turned on?”
Groaning with the intense need to touch, to taste, to have, I bring her finger to my lips and suck. My eyes roll back in my head, and I savor the sweet and salty taste of her. Pleasure rattles through me like a train barreling down the tracks, speeding around curves and blasting down the straightaway.
I let her finger fall from my lips then move to her bra, unclasping it and freeing her gorgeous tits.
And because the lady gets what the lady wants, I stand up to strip. “So you think this will get you going?” I tug off my pullover shirt, keeping my gaze on her as I go.
“Yes. So much yes.”
When I pop open the button on my jeans, she slides her eager hand between her legs and starts playing.
I growl because it’s so ridiculously sexy to see Sloane on my bed, naked, exploring her body. I shuck off my jeans and shed my boxer briefs, my cock springing free and greeting her with a proper salute.
She gasps, and her noise of appreciation is like a full day’s injection of pride. She’s seen me before, but the fact that she likes the view that much is everything my ego could ask for.
And maybe a little more.
I move to the top of the bed, stroking my cock once, twice, bringing a bead of liquid to the head.
She licks her lips, asking for it. I swipe the drop on my thumb, then run my thumb over her bottom lip. She moans obscenely, and I could come in seconds from those sexy sounds.
I reach for the dolphin and slide next to her, my hard length nestled against the soft, smooth flesh of her ass. “Spread your legs.”
She does as asked. I drag the head of the toy between her legs, gliding it across all that slick, slippery wetness. She arches her back, bowing up against it instantly. She’s like a violin, and I feel
like a virtuoso already. I want to hear the music she can make. I want the symphony of her pleasure echoing across my bedroom. “Hold on to the headboard,” I tell her.
She reaches up, clasping her hands around the slats. “Why?”
“It’ll give you something to do with your hands.”
She smiles at me. “Look at you, always thinking.”
“So you don’t have to. Just feel.”
I rub the shaft across her center, getting her used to the feel, the size, the shape. If she’s only ever come from a vibrator before, there’s no need to pull out all the stops the first time around. My mission? Ease her into it. Get her there. Step by step. Orgasm by orgasm. I intend to build her up so that she can fall apart every single time with me.
“I want tonight to feel familiar to you. I want you to feel comfortable. To know you can get where you want to go. That’s why I’m going to fuck you with this toy before we have sex again.”
As she starts rubbing against the shaft, I turn on the dolphin head, sliding the buzzing nose against the delicious rise of her clit. The second, the very nanosecond that the toy makes contact, she lets out a primal groan.
It’s long and needy. A plea for pleasure.
I heed it, stroking the toy against her. Sliding it up and down until she’s writhing. When her breath turns uneven, when her hips lift faster, I slide it inside.
She groans as I go deeper, the sounds turning me on even more, and I didn’t think it was possible to be more aroused. But hell, my dick is throbbing insistently against her lush body.
Sloane turns her gaze to me. Her eyes are rimmed with sex and lust. “That feels so good. I want you to fuck me so hard with it, Malone.”
My temperature? It’s forest-fire levels now. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
I switch my position, moving to kneel between her legs and get a better angle.
“Yes.” She lets out a guttural moan as she rocks against the vibrator. I follow her cues, fucking her with the toy. We quickly find a rhythm, a fast and feverish one. That’s what this woman wants, and that’s what I’m going to give her. She grips the headboard more tightly, her veins visible in her arms from the intensity. Her eyes squeeze shut, like she’s chasing the edge of pleasure.
“You look so fucking sexy,” I rasp as she grinds down on the toy.
“I feel sexy with you.” Her words tumble from her lips, and if I were a betting man, I’d put all my money on the fact that Sloane is not thinking a goddamn thing right now.
She’s feeling.
Feeling spectacular, I suspect.
She keeps rocking, thrusting her hips. “So good. God, it’s sooooo good.”
It’s almost like she needs to say the words to remind herself. Maybe so she doesn’t get lost in her head again. Her legs fall open wider, her hips go wilder, her breath comes faster. Her lips part beautifully, and she murmurs.
Wanted you.
Wanted you to fuck me.
For so long.
Oh my God, for so long.
She seems to lose herself in the rhythm and the words. She can’t seem to string them together, but she can’t stop talking either, and it’s an exquisite sight—Sloane losing her mind with impending ecstasy.
Wanted you.
Pictured you.
Harder.
Faster.
Yes, oh God, yes.
The sounds she makes are telltale. Her breath races. Her chest flushes pink. Her moans come from deep within her. Everything looks and feels so goddamn different from the other night. “Malone,” she whispers, her voice breaking, wobbly. “Kiss me.”
I don’t need any greater command. I move up and seal my mouth to hers as I fuck her with the vibrator.
She shakes. She shudders. She trembles from head to toe. The kiss lasts all of five seconds because as soon as our lips touch, her mouth parts in an O. She falls silent, the quiet before the storm.
A small cry. A gasp. A whoosh of air.
She moans, her voice full of filthy wonder, rich with dirty joy. “I’m coming.”
This.
This is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Sloane, losing control, for real.
Coming undone with me, for me.
As her voice breaks and she hits that high, I know with a crisp certainty that I want to do this to her again and again.
I can’t get enough of this woman.
Soon enough, she comes down from her orgasm, her eyes flickering open, looking sex-drunk and happy as a cat stretching in the sunniest spot in the house.
Slowly, I ease the toy out of her, setting it on the bed.
“Thank you,” she whispers, and it sounds full of reverence, as if I’ve given her a great gift.
“All I did was hit the on button,” I say with a playful shrug.
Letting go of the headboard, she sits up and grabs my face. “That was everything. You made me feel like I was flying. Like I was free. Like I could let go and give in. I’ve never felt that . . . open.”
Holy hell.
I’m king of the world.
She makes me feel ten feet tall.
She slides her hand down my body. Her soft hand on my hard cock is too much. It’s going to unravel me, make me lose all willpower.
But we aren’t going there yet.
I shake my head, removing her hand. “We’re not having sex.”
“Please.” She wiggles against me, and I nearly surrender. I’m ready to throw my plans out the window just to get inside her.
But that’d be selfish. I can’t stick my dick inside her to get off.
When I sleep with her again, I need to believe I can send her soaring. “We need more practice. I want to make you come in every other way first.”
She pouts, then drags a hand up her belly, tracing a seductive path along her flesh. Stopping between her tits, she plays with a hard nipple. “You don’t have to put your cock inside me.”
My mouth goes dry as she slides her other hand between her legs, stroking a few times before she brings it between her breasts, coating them with the evidence of her own orgasm. “Why don’t you fuck me here?”
I’m a lightning bolt of lust.
What am I going to say to that but hell to the fucking yes?
In no time, I straddle her, slide my hand between her legs to gather more of the goodness, then slick some along my cock. She pushes her breasts together, and I jerk forward, sliding my length between those gorgeous globes.
It’s the most perfect valley, and when her tits cradle my dick, I’m sure, I’m positively fucking sure, it’s not going to take me long at all.
Because I’m a gentleman, I give her a warning. “This is going to be pretty fast.”
She lifts her face, her lips all swollen and sexy. “Come quickly. Come slowly. Just come on me.”
True to my word, I’m nearly there already. A couple of thrusts, a couple of strokes, and my already aching dick is singing a happy tune, ready to blast off. My vision blurs, and my world spirals into pure bliss as I come on her chest.
The release is exhilarating and exactly what I need.
I shudder, grunting her name, grunting God’s name, panting hard. She reaches down, drags a finger between her breasts, and shoots me a naughty stare as she licks her fingertip. “Maybe I just wanted to be a dirty girl.”
“You picked the right guy. Now let’s clean you up.” I take her to the shower, and I wash her off. She seems to savor the attention, and it makes me realize there’s nothing at all wrong with her.
Sure, she might think too much.
Yeah, her brain can get in the way of her body’s wishes.
But maybe that’s because she hasn’t found the right person to give her everything she deserves.
Or hasn’t until now.
32
I turn off the shower and hand her a towel.
As she dries, she casually says, “Once I’m all dressed, I can go.”
I rub my ear. “What did you just say?”
&nb
sp; She shrugs as if it’s no big deal, then points to the door. “I figured you’d want me to go.”
“Why the hell would you figure that?”
“Because that’s . . .”
“What guys want?” I supply, aghast. “Who the hell have you been dating?” I hold up a hand. “Wait. I’m not sure I want you to answer that.”
“I didn’t want to be presumptuous.” She’s too direct and up-front to beg or even hint for an invite. No, she legit sounds like she thought I’d kick her out of my home after pleasuring her. “You might want your space,” she says. “We didn’t make any plans for an all-nighter.”
I slide a hand around her hip, squeezing. “You might not be presumptuous, but I sure as hell am. You’re not coming over here, having dinner with me, wearing that sexy-as-sin pink lingerie, having an epic orgasm that we both desperately wanted, showering in my bathroom, and then getting in a cab, Uber, or subway to go home.” I squeeze harder. “If I’m presumptuous, so be it. You’re spending the night. Got it?”
A smile spreads slowly over her lovely face, then all at once, as if she’s been lit up. “That’s crystal clear.”
I let go of her hip and tuck a finger under her chin. “Besides, do I look like some kind of Neanderthal? A twenty-two-year-old Tinder hookup? A jackass frat guy?”
She laughs and shakes her head. “No. But . . .”
I shake my head, still in a fog of disbelief. “All right. I have to ask: Do you have a thing for assholes? Are you one of those women who likes to date jerks?”
She smirks. “No. I swear. But . . .”
“But you’ve wound up with some dickheads?”
She shrugs. “It’s been known to happen to women in their twenties. Look, I haven’t always picked well. I meet men at the gym or through dating apps or even in my online groups for small business owners selling stuff on Etsy, like the socks I sell. And I went out with a couple of guys who were the poster boys for the classic girl questions of Does he like me? Why doesn’t he text? Is he just busy?”
I shake my head, running the towel once over my hair then tossing it on a hook. “Let me tell you something. We’re never too busy to text. It’s not complicated to send a quick note.” I mime tapping with thumbs. “Yo, girl, what’s up? See? Two seconds. Now, giving a dog a new ACL? That takes time. Stitching up a cat who broke her leg? That’s precision work. Sending a woman you dig a text is a pleasure and don’t let anyone tell you differently.”
Satisfaction Guaranteed: A Standalone Romance (Always Satisfied Book 1) Page 12
