Unbuttoning my jeans, unzipping, sliding them down my hips. He was exposing me, and my muscles tightened. I wasn’t ashamed of my body. Not in the least. But with each inch he revealed, I was keenly aware that my friend was seeing me in a new way, just like he’d seen inside my mind when he read the list. Now he’d be seeing my body fully. All my skin, all my flesh.
No one had.
No man had ever taken my clothes off before.
In seconds, my jeans hit my calves, and I tried to step out of them. “No,” he growled. “Leave them right there.”
He kicked the inside of my right ankle, then my left, spreading me as far as I could go with my jeans pooled at my legs. Like a restraint. Like I had imagined.
He rose, humming. “Your ass. Your fantastic ass. I bet it’s as luscious as I’ve imagined it was so many damn times,” he said, cupping my cheeks over my panties.
Reality slammed into me. He’d thought about my bare ass before? And I had the answer to the question I’d asked myself moments ago—had that desire been there before or had I unleashed it in one night?
This wasn’t the first time he’d thought about me like this. I wasn’t a new notion to him, and quite possibly he’d been craving me for some time.
My head didn’t know what to make of this new intel, but my body did—my skin sizzled. My heart slammed harder against my chest, an insistent, demanding rhythm of lust and longing.
Adam wanted me, had wanted me for a while, and I liked his desire.
I liked everything he was doing to me tonight too.
He slid my panties down to my ankles, leaving them there with my jeans. And leaving me half-naked before him in my kitchen. Exposed, wet, needy.
And waiting.
8
Adam
There were beautiful sights.
A snow-capped mountain in the Pacific Northwest.
A waterfall in Hawaii.
A cobblestoned street in Paris.
And then there was Nina Bellamy—smooth white skin; toned, supple legs; and the most fantastic ass I’d ever seen.
Those cheeks.
I wanted to bite them. To leave teeth marks on her flesh.
Twin globes of squeezable, kneadable, absolutely spankable flesh. And I had to get my hands on every inch of her body that was begging for my touch. She raised her ass, offering herself to me, and hell, did I ever need her.
But first, I had to give the woman what she wanted.
Her list was branded on my brain, so I took off my belt slowly, loop by loop, letting her hear the slap of the leather against my palm as I removed it. “You want it like this, dirty girl,” I rumbled.
“Yes, yes, I do.”
“And you’re going to get what you want.”
With my belt removed, I curled my body over hers, my chest to her back, my hands reaching for her forearms, pulling them closer. She arched against me, seeking contact. “Such a greedy girl. Is it hard for you to wait?” I asked as I wrapped the belt around her wrists.
“So hard.”
“I bet you’re soaked. I bet you’re aching for my fingers. I bet you’d beg for my cock right now.”
“Oh God. Yes. I would. Do you want me to?”
It was a desperate cry from her, and I hated denying it. But we’d get there. “Well, you can’t have that tonight. Dirty girls need to wait,” I told her as I fastened the belt around her soft hands. Then I tightened it one more notch, and she let out a wild moan, chased by a question. “What can I have tonight?”
“If you show me how much you want my fingers, I’ll give you everything you need. But you have to show me, Nina. Show me how badly you’re aching for me.”
She stretched her arms across the counter, bending her back into a flat line, lifting her ass even higher. She turned her face to me, the good student eager to please her teacher. “Is this good?”
I gazed at her glistening sex.
She was bare, ready, and so goddamn beautiful.
Pink, virginal, pure.
And, according to her list, I was going to be the first one to touch her.
What a gift.
What a heady gift.
I’d take my sweet time opening this gift as I gave her the fantasy she craved—bound, exposed, fingered from behind.
My hands curled around her succulent ass, and she moaned, a delicious, needy sound.
I squeezed her flesh, savoring the feel of her in my palms.
She wriggled against me, her body making it damn clear that she liked it. That she wanted more.
That she needed to be touched, stroked, taken.
I planned to give it all to her, but first I had to go off script. For her, and for me. Because I wanted something desperately. As I kneeled behind her, she gasped, turning to look at me. Her eyes were wide and innocent.
Etched with filthy curiosity.
“I’m going to give you number four, but I need just a taste of you first,” I said, then licked a tantalizing line across her ass. Right there. That tempting crease where her ass met the top of her thigh. That absolutely intoxicating location on the map of a woman’s body. I traveled across it, flicking my tongue along that boundary.
She tasted so sweet, her skin smelling faintly of cherries. Of course. Cherries are sexy. They’re lipstick red. Lingerie red.
“Oh God,” she whispered.
I lavished the same attention on her other cheek, inhaling the scent of her arousal. Salty and sexy.
I couldn’t wait to taste her.
I rose and dipped my hand between her legs.
She gasped, then pressed her lips together, like she was holding in sounds.
I slid one finger across the most slippery, perfect flesh I’d ever felt. She shivered, but still stayed quiet.
That wouldn’t do. I had to help her through her nerves.
I dropped the dirty, rough tone I’d been using. “Nina, are you afraid to make a sound?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered, sounding fearful. “I’ve never done this. Except in my head.”
I bent over Nina, pressed my cheek to hers, gentle in my question. “Do you want me to stop?”
“God, no. It’s just . . .”
“Just what, baby?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, shuddering, but not from pleasure—from worry. “Adam . . . what if I’m too loud? What if the sounds I make are ridiculous?”
I chuckled softly and kissed her cheek. “I assure you, Nina, the sounds you make are going to be so goddamn sexy, they’ll only make me harder. Want to know how I know?”
“Yes,” she said softly, her body relaxing again.
I reached for her bound wrists, raised her arms, and spun her around. Guiding her hands to my jeans, I rubbed her palms over the outline of my erection. “Believe me now?”
She was quiet at first, her expression hard to read. Then her lips curved into a naughty grin. “I believe you, and I believe in your eight inches.”
I shook my head in admiration. “You naughty, sexy woman. Now let’s get you back where you belong.” I returned her to the position she’d been in, still me, still in my regular voice. “Tell me what you want. Do you want to scream? Do you want to moan? Do you want to cry out?”
“I do,” she said in a whisper. “I want all that.”
She was ready now; she had the reassurance. Rough again, husky again, I gave her a command. “Then do it. I want all your sounds, all your pleasure, all your ecstasy,” I said, then slid one arm up her body and into her hair. Gripping her gorgeous locks, I tugged, and she moaned instantly. “That’s right, dirty girl.” I pressed the outline of my erection against her bare ass, letting her feel what she did to me. “Your noises only arouse me. They only make me harder. Give them to me. Give them to me right now.”
Another needy moan was my reward.
My erection twitched, begging to be set free.
Not tonight.
Tonight was for her.
And for all her glorious wetness. With her ankles spre
ad as far as they could go, I slid my other hand back between her legs.
I stroked, getting her ready, prepping her. The woman was so turned on, my fingers were coated in her in seconds as I played with her decadent center, sliding my fingertips between her lips, then rubbing that gorgeous swell. So hard, so insanely aroused.
She was a dream.
And my job was to deliver on her dream.
Part of me knew I should take her tenderly and go softly because this was all new to her. But another part knew I had to respect the woman’s wishes.
She didn’t want tender.
She’d made that damn clear.
But I was determined not to hurt her. I had to find the balance she might not even realize she needed. Had to help her feel safe, respected, before I pushed in the way she wanted.
I tested her first, dipping one finger inside.
So warm.
I tugged on her hair, pressed my lips to her neck, and whispered hotly, “Fuck my finger, dirty girl. Show me you want it.”
“I do. God, I want it so much,” she said, rocking back against me fast, furiously.
Yes, this was good. This was how she’d get ready. On her terms. Using my finger to get her sweet heat ready for more.
After a few minutes, I was sure Nina could handle it.
And I bet she’d been taking it hard and good with vibrators for years. I bet she had drawerfuls of them, and I was confident, too, that she’d tell me all about her dirty little collection. That it was on the tip of her tongue, just waiting to be set free. I could do that for her. I could be the one she shared it all with. I was her safety zone for every after-dark thought. “Tell me something.”
“I’ll tell you anything,” she said, and I grinned. Yep, Nina wanted to be unlocked.
I had the key. I kept turning it. “Do you fuck yourself with toys, dirty girl?” I moved my finger faster, stroking her clit with another one.
“Yes. I did that last night.”
Lust tore through me like wildfire. The images flashed in front of my eyes. The awareness of what she’d done while I slept nearby. “When I was in the guest room, you were pleasuring yourself with a toy?”
“Yes. I used my rabbit. I like it hard and deep. So deep.”
Enough said.
She was good to go.
My virgin could handle what I had in store for her. I lowered my mouth to her neck, kissing her possessively as I added another finger, lust rocketing through every molecule in my body. “Were you on your back last night? Your legs spread nice and wide?” I asked as I thrust a third finger into her hot, tight center.
“No. I was on all fours.”
I nearly lost it. She masturbated on her hands and knees. Forget five thousand degrees. I was hotter. “I’m going to need to see that. Need to watch you do that. I’m going to watch you and come all over your beautiful back when you do that.”
She pulsed around my fingers, quivering, turning even wetter, even slicker. “Yes, do that. Watch me. Watch me and come on me. Come all over me,” she said, and her voice wasn’t her own. It was sensual and smoky while she chased her pleasure, pumping her pelvis against my fingers as I stroked her just as hard.
Just as ruthlessly.
Just the way she wanted it.
She was no longer nervous, no longer scared.
She was all in, and I was so damn glad she’d found her freedom.
We were perfectly in sync as I stroked, rubbing her clit, twisting my fingers in and out, searching and finding that spot—that wonderful X-marks-the-spot of euphoric pleasure.
“Yes, oh God, yes. I need to come. Please let me come.
Please, please, please.”
This woman. My God. She knew what she wanted. Knew what she had to have.
Her entire body shook as I tugged her hair and stroked her sweet center. “Ask me one more time,” I growled. “Ask like a good dirty girl.”
She moaned to the heavens. “Adam, please let me come. I’m begging you.”
I nipped her neck, my voice ragged against her skin. “Come all over my hand. Come like the good little virgin you are. Give it all to me.”
And she did.
Holy hell, she did.
She shuddered, and a wave of pleasure seemed to roll over her. And again, and again, and again.
Her lips parted in the most magnificent O as she cried out. Her sounds reached the ceiling. They reverberated throughout her home. They rang in my ears like the most gorgeous song I’d ever heard.
It was as if she’d never come before. Not like this. Not this hard. Not this intensely.
And I suspected she hadn’t.
When she came down minutes later, her eyes were glossy, her expression hazy. But she smiled then nibbled on her lip. I felt like a king.
That look on her face did something to my chest, like my heart was squeezing. I’d done that to her. I’d made her feel something she’d longed for. My friend. My wonderful, daring friend who’d trusted me with her most secret self.
“Did you like that, dirty girl?” I asked, my tone a little softer now, just me again.
She smiled, like she was still buzzed. “I loved it. I’ve never felt anything like that before.” Then her shyness returned. An innocent little look as she cast her eyes down then back up. “Adam, that was my first. No one else has made me come but me.”
My chest glowed from that knowledge, and I liked it so much, probably more than I should have. I kissed her cheek, this time softly, but I couldn’t stop savoring the depth of this first.
I was the lucky recipient of Nina’s first climax with another person.
It was heady, a rush of both pleasure and something else too.
Something a little deeper.
Something I didn’t expect to feel.
Possession.
But I couldn’t linger on these unexpected feelings in my heart, because another organ had more pressing needs.
And so did Nina, who lifted her chin and asked, “Can I touch you now? Can I do the same to you? It’s number six, after all. Touching a man.”
A shudder racked my body, but it wasn’t just from my hedonistic side. Of course I wanted her to touch me. I wanted her hands all over my length, then her lips, her tongue, and her whole luscious mouth.
But it was the way she asked that nearly wrecked me. So sweet, so desperate. That sound did something to me. Hooked into me in a way that seemed dangerous. The more I let her take the reins, the greater the chance this exploration would become a give and take. And if it did, it would no longer be about her list. It’d become something else. And something else might be too risky.
We’d set rules for a reason; we’d erected boundaries because we had to.
I had to honor them. And part of honoring them was keeping the focus on her. Her list included touching a man for the first time, but it sure as hell didn’t include a handjob. It did, however, explicitly detail something else involving hands. My hand. I was a diligent teacher, and I planned to give my student what she’d asked for.
I ran a finger across her soft cheek. “Yes. You can touch me. And then we’ll do number seven. You can watch me jack myself till I come on your lips.”
Call it the number seven special.
Her brown eyes lit up with desire. “Yes.”
A minute later, I’d untied her hands, pulled up her pants, and unzipped my jeans. I freed my length from the confines of my boxer briefs.
She licked her lips when she saw my dick for the first time. I gripped my shaft, stroking it once, long and lingering, watching her eyes turn hazier with lust.
When I reached the tip, I said, “Get on your knees.”
She dropped to the floor.
“Give me your right hand.”
She lifted it, offering it to me. I took her hand, wrapping mine over hers as I brought her soft palm to my shaft. The second she touched me, her whole body seemed to melt. She pressed her lips together, like she was holding in some kind of sound of wonder, like she’d st
epped outside after a winter’s worth of snow and experienced sunshine. Like she was soaking in warmth for the first time in ages.
“Adam,” she said in a heady whisper, her eyes wide.
I could feel my control slipping with the way she said my name. I had to remember who we were—in this moment, she couldn’t be Nina, my good friend. She was the woman who wanted to know how it felt to be dirty for the first time.
And dirty girls needed instructions from their teachers.
“Grip me harder,” I ordered.
She circled her hand tighter, making a fist, and a groan worked its way up my chest. To be touched like this, by someone taking her first trip to this country was so intense, so much sexier than I’d ever expected.
A wave of pleasure crashed over me as Nina caressed my throbbing length, stroking up and down. “You’re so hard, and the skin is so soft,” she said, whispering like she was in church.
The moment felt that way. Reverent.
But unholy, too, because of what I was about to do to her. The angels would look the other way and shield their eyes when they saw what was coming.
“One more stroke, dirty girl. That’s all you get,” I said.
“But you feel so good,” she pleaded, staring at my length, then looking into my eyes as she touched me, sending red-hot sparks through my body. “I love it,” she whispered under her breath, like she was confessing a secret.
My erection twitched in her hand because, hell, I loved it too.
Too much.
“That’s enough,” I said crisply. “Time for number seven. Just the way you want it. Put your hands behind your back, and watch me. Don’t take your eyes off me.”
“I won’t.”
With her like that, on her knees, gazing at me, I stroked my shaft, grateful for the relief. I was so wound up, so turned on from her coming, from her touching me, that it wouldn’t take long. But I needed a little something.
“Get my dick wet with your juices. Make it easier for me to jack off in front of you, like you want.”
Thrusting her hand inside her jeans and between her legs, she coated her fingers in the evidence of her climax. She reached for my erection, then spread her wetness along my length. The look in her irises as she touched me was one of wild thrill.
The After Dark Collection: Books 1-3 in The Gift Series Page 14
