“I didn’t hear you come up. You should’ve let me know you were there.”
“You called for help. I’m here. What else do you want from me?” The way he glowered at me threatened to turn every bone in my body to mush. It was hot. Even with the beard, it was hot, and probably not in the way he intended. Holy moly, I was in trouble. “And you should ask before you snoop in my house,” he added.
He had a point, but I wasn’t inclined to concede it. “So is this where I’m sleeping?” I asked, sweeping an arm toward the vast open space behind me.
“You sleep in bed. I sleep on sofa.”
“That doesn’t quite seem fair. There’s no reason you shouldn’t sleep in your own bed.”
“So I put mouthy woman in wheelchair on sofa? Yeah, what a guy.” Sarcasm dripped out of his pores.
I couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that he was tossing my own words back at me.
“Everything so fucking funny,” he mumbled, picking me up again so he could carry me back downstairs. “You’re playing with fire.”
“Why don’t you have a guest bed?” I asked, refusing to give in just yet. I kind of liked the idea of getting burned if it turned out to be anything like I imagined. I let my fingertips trail through the silky-smooth strands of his beard, marveling again at the texture.
He jerked his head to get me to stop. “No need. Sergei likes hotel.”
“No one else comes to visit you? Not ever?”
“Only you.” He dumped me on the couch again and went up again for my wheelchair.
“I’m not taking your bed from you!” I called up after him. “It won’t kill me to sleep—”
“Why everything has to be a fight with you?” he roared, stopping halfway up the flight.
“Why do you always have to answer my questions with more questions?”
“Why you’re always touching my beard? Poking and prodding and prying. Little snoop. Can’t keep your fucking hands to yourself.”
“Because you’re hot, Dima!” The words came out before I thought them through. “You’re hot. Even your stupid beard and the way you constantly glare at me and push me away. It’s all hot, and I’m hot and bothered. Okay?”
For a moment, he stared at me, his eyes dark and angry in a way that only intensified my attraction. “Fucking mouthy woman.”
I bit my tongue to keep from grinning. He didn’t have the first clue how mouthy I could be. Although, if he wasn’t careful, he might find out. The angrier he got, the hornier I got, which could prove to be quite a conundrum. Then he spun and marched up the rest of the stairs, coming back to set my chair near me.
He came too close. Shouldn’t have done that.
I managed to get a fistful of beard hair and drag him down to me. Everything exploded the second my lips touched his.
I bit his lower lip. He hissed, opening his mouth to let me in as I lay back, pulling him on top of me.
This was probably a bad idea. This had to be a very, very bad idea.
But I didn’t care.
He caught part of his weight with an arm against the back of the couch, but most of his body fell upon me, burying me with the most delicious warmth. He kissed me back, hard and angry, his beard scraping against my chin in a way that only made me want more.
His hand dug into my hip hard enough I could feel it as he spread my legs and settled himself between my thighs, his weight pressing me farther into the cushions.
Both hands splayed, I took in the ridges and planes of his chest and back, ripping his shirt free so I could touch flesh.
Kisses. And nibbles. He rained them down the column of my neck, alternating, just sporadic enough that the sting of each bite took me by surprise. He bit harder than before when he reached my clavicle.
I cried out, and he whipped his head up to meet my gaze.
His eyes were fire. Blazing. Angry. Consuming me.
“It hurts?” he demanded.
I sucked in buckets of air, my chest rising and falling in rapid, uneven waves. “Yes.”
“Good or bad?”
I didn’t even have to think. “Good.”
Then his lips were on mine again, the kiss punishing and furious and desperate. I swallowed his taste, dark enough to leave me drunk with need, and so erotic I felt everything inside turn to liquid heat.
“More,” I demanded. Now that I’d gotten my hands under his shirt, I worked my way around to his back and delved beneath the waist of his sweatpants. His ass was hard and tight, muscled perfection with just enough jiggle to tempt me to slap it. Instead, I squeezed, and he ground his pelvis into me.
He nipped my earlobe and groaned. “I want to fuck you. Want to fuck you hard and fast. Give you better use for that fucking mouth.”
Again, there was no need to think. I gave him the only answer I could.
“Yes. Fuck me.” I moaned as his hand slipped up inside my shirt. He kneaded my breast through the thin fabric of my bra for a moment, then pinched my nipple. I could barely get out the next word. “Please.”
WHY THE HELL didn’t I keep any condoms down here? Probably because I never brought women back to my place. I always went home with them so I could leave whenever I was ready to move on. No need to have them easy to get to at home. I kept a stash in my dresser and made sure to take some with me if I thought I’d be hooking up with someone for the night.
At the moment, I was cursing myself for not having protection where I needed it. I peeled myself off London and picked her up, desperate to get inside her as soon as humanly possible. She licked my neck, suckling the scar hidden under my tattoo so hard I nearly tripped on the stairs. This time, she was too busy groping me to help carry her weight, but that was a trade-off I was more than happy to make. She dug into my flesh until her fingernails practically marked me.
I set her on the bed and pried her hands off me so I could fetch the box of condoms out of my dresser drawer. At the last second, I saw the box of dental dams beside it and grabbed those, too, just in case I could slow myself down enough to make use of them. By the time I returned, she’d already stripped her shirt over the top of her head and tossed it to the floor. Her body was everything I’d imagined it to be and more. Long limbs. Strong, toned muscle. Small, pert tits I couldn’t wait to get my mouth on. Some men might be intimidated by a woman as fit as she was. Not me. It turned me on so much I could hardly stand it.
Tossing the protective gear on the bed beside her, I straddled her lap, pushing her back so I completely covered her again.
Her long brown hair fanned out over the bedspread, and she yanked hard on my beard again, forcing me down to her for another kiss. Her lips were already pink and swollen, but she attacked me with as much fervor as I’d attacked her moments ago.
I raked my fingers up her ribs, digging them beneath the material of her bra to shove it out of my way. When I cupped both breasts in my palms, she arched up into me. Her tits were already hard enough to cut glass, the nubs biting into my flesh as much as my fingers bit into hers.
I broke off the kiss with a nip to her lower lip that had her crying out. That was my chance to work my way down her body to enjoy those tits. I palmed one breast and flicked my tongue over the nipple a few times before suckling the whole thing.
London let out a groan and pushed her hands against the back of my head, driving me onto her and directing me where she wanted me. “Fuck, Dima, that’s good. I’m so wet.”
I nipped her gently with my teeth before moving to the other breast. “Not just mouthy. Dirty mouth.” And, damn it to hell, I liked it.
She was so sensitive her reactions were driving me wild. Somehow, her entire body bucked beneath me. I didn’t think she had enough use of her legs to accomplish it, but I wouldn’t complain.
With my free hand, I undid the fly of her jeans while I worked on her other tit. I slipped my fingers inside her panties, past her curls, to find her as slick and hot as my wildest fantasies. Using only the tips of my fingers, I spread her lower lips and foun
d her clitoris, circling it a few times in the same rhythm as my tongue on her rock-hard tit.
Her breathing turned shallow. Sharp, staccato bursts. She lifted her head and dragged me up by the hair until our eyes met. “Stop teasing me and fuck me.”
I grinned, but I didn’t stop. I kept circling that little nub of nerve endings until I felt her legs shaking beneath me, watching her eyes darken and roll back in her head. “You feel that?”
“Yes, I fucking feel that. I want to feel you. Inside me.”
Discovering how much sensation she still had might be the best present ever. For some reason, I’d assumed she couldn’t feel anything at all below a certain point. And now that I knew she could, I was endlessly fascinated. I wanted to devour her and watch her every reaction. I wanted to tease her in every way I could imagine, waiting to see how she’d respond.
Still watching her eyes, I delved lower and slipped a finger inside her. “And this? You feel this?” I pumped my digit in and out a couple of times, marveling at the sensation of her flesh enveloping me in wet heat.
She bit her lower lip and nodded. “I feel a lot of things. Not everything, but more than I ever expected to. Mainly, I just can’t use my body the way I could before. I don’t have much control over my legs or other…things.”
I added another finger and stretched her. Her flesh gave way, like butter, easily accommodating me. “Why you want me to fuck you?”
One of her devious smiles lit up her face. “Because I want you. And because you want me, too, but you don’t want to want me. It pisses you off, and that turns me on.” As if to prove her words, a fresh wave of slickness coated my fingers.
She was right about it pissing me off. But I couldn’t stop myself from touching her.
I lowered her jeans and panties past her hips and tugged them free from her ankles, tossing them to join her shirt on the floor. But instead of stripping myself, I dug out a dental dam and ripped it open.
She raised a brow in question.
I raised her legs and spread them so she was wide open for me, her glistening, pink pussy on perfect display. “Hold your legs,” I said.
A question still in her eyes, she put one hand behind each knee and held them in place. I positioned the piece of latex over her sweet pussy, and then I went to town.
“Oh, fuck,” she said as soon as my tongue connected with her skin. I suckled, licked, nipped, and swirled until she was a moaning, writhing mess, and her voice was nothing more than a high-pitched stream of “Fuck me already. Bastard.”
I added my fingers to the mix again, using them to stretch her while I focused my mouth on her more sensitive areas.
Her thighs crushed against the sides of my head, holding me in place.
Her clit was hard. Swollen. Pulsing. I knew she was close, so I sucked it between my lips and gently rolled it between my lips and teeth until her pussy clenched around my fingers and tried to keep them inside.
Breathing hard, her body covered with a sheen of sweat, she glared down at me when I lifted my head. I kept my fingers inside her and used my thumb to continue teasing her clit.
“Stop,” she complained. “I’m too sensitive now.”
“Thought you wanted me to fuck you.”
“I did. You should have gotten on with things before you made me come.”
“Can still fuck you now. You can come again.”
London jerked on my beard, dragging me up until my face was level with hers, so I could see how intense her pout was. “I said I’m too sensitive. I can suck you off.”
I couldn’t seem to stop myself—especially not since her swollen lips were in such a sexy pout. I kissed her, forcing my tongue into her mouth to tangle with hers. She wrapped an arm around my shoulders and drew me closer, keeping her other hand fisted in my beard. I ground myself against her until she whimpered and squirmed, rocking against me.
“I like you sensitive,” I said, nipping her lower lip. “Like a fucking cat in heat. Want to make your pussy purr.”
“It’ll be yowling instead of purring if you don’t stop.” But she didn’t let go of me.
“I could make you scream. Thick walls. No one will hear.”
She glared at me, digging at my fly. With one hand, she found my cock and rubbed it through the layer of fabric. “Big boy. Didn’t you say you had a better use for my dirty mouth?”
“Should fill it with cock so you shut up.”
“Maybe you should.” She licked her lips, her pink tongue leaving a trail of moisture that made my cock twitch against her hand.
“Maybe I will.” I climbed off her and got rid of my clothes, donning a condom before climbing over her again. This time, I straddled her head.
She rested one hand on my thigh and opened her mouth, her tongue out to swirl around the head of my dick. Then she bobbed forward and took most of my length, pointing her tongue to slide along the ridge on the underside. I groaned when she took my balls in her other hand and massaged them, my hips rocking back and forth. She let me fuck her mouth like I wanted to fuck her pussy, her eyes staying on mine.
Every now and then, she pulled me out and licked my length up and down, using her hands to pump me.
“Much better use of dirty mouth,” I said. I leaned back and found one of her tits with my hand, teasing it until she moaned against my cock. The vibrations felt so fucking good I wanted to feel more of that. And I knew exactly what I could do to make that happen.
I twisted myself around until I was facing the other direction, my knees on either side of London’s head, and my head positioned over her pussy.
“I’m too sensitive,” she complained as my fingers found her slit. When my thumb brushed over her clit, her entire body bucked beneath me.
“Want to make you come again.” I wanted it so bad I could taste it—definitely more than I wanted to get off, myself. “Want me to stop?” I asked, praying she’d give me the answer I wanted. I circled her clit with my tongue while I waited on her reply.
She kept me waiting so long I was almost convinced she was going to tell me to go fuck myself.
“Don’t stop,” she finally groaned.
I slipped my fingers inside her opening and went back to work on her clit with my mouth. She took my cock into her mouth again, warm and wet and open for me. She whimpered and moaned, writhing beneath me, which only brought me closer to losing control. She grabbed my ass and held on, and I thrust into her like an animal.
The rougher I treated her, the wilder and wetter she became.
She clenched around my fingers again and cried out, but her voice was muffled against my cock. The vibrations were almost more than I could take.
I had to be inside her.
Couldn’t wait any longer.
I flipped around, grabbed a pillow, lifted her hips, shoved it beneath her, tossed the dam out of my way, and pushed into her sweet pussy before her orgasm had completely subsided, reveling in the way her body squeezed my cock.
The angle allowed me to go deep. So fucking deep. I melted into her, letting her swallow me whole.
Her eyes were almost manic, dark pupils so wide they virtually erased her brown irises. I eased myself in and out, in and out, picking up a slow rhythm to start even though every pore in my body was screaming to fuck her hard and fast.
She grabbed my beard again and drew me over her, using the fingernails of her other hand to scrape a path from my shoulder to my ass and back. I braced myself on my forearms. She dug her nails into my ass so hard she might have broken the skin.
I hissed in a breath and picked up my tempo.
“Does it hurt?” she asked, digging in harder.
“Yes.” I thrust again, so deep it made her eyes widen.
“Good or bad?”
“Good.” So fucking good I never wanted it to stop. I didn’t even care that she was teasing me or throwing my own words back in my face.
“Good. So fuck me, Dima,” she said, burying her face against my neck. “I need you to fuck me.”
So I did. I fucked her hard and fast, both of us almost angry in our intensity, scratching, biting, clawing, slapping. Even when we had sex, it was a damn fight with her. This woman would be the death of me.
London’s legs shook until the quaking took over her whole body, and she arched up into me again with her biggest climax yet. This one lasted so long it left me shaking, on the verge of my own orgasm.
I pulled out and reached down to bring myself to completion, but she beat me to it. She jerked my cock until I came with a shout and collapsed over her, crushing her into the mattress.
I wasn’t sure how long we lay like that. Long enough that the cool air in the room made me shiver as the sweat dried. Long enough that our breathing settled back to normal. Long enough for London to start shoving at me to get off her. Long enough that I realized there was nowhere I wanted to be right at that moment than exactly where I was, with this angry, infuriating, hardheaded, mouthy woman trapped beneath me.
And that scared the shit out of me.
EVEN THOUGH I was caught beneath a surly Russian bear of a man, I was as content as I’d been in a long time. Sex endorphins were good, even after bad sex. But what had just happened between the two of us? I don’t know exactly what I’d call it, but sex wasn’t a powerful enough word.
Still, I’d always enjoyed poking the bear, and now was no exception to that rule. I jabbed a finger under his ribs. “Get up. You’re suffocating me.”
“Good. Maybe your dirty mouth will learn to shut up if you can’t breathe.” He didn’t budge. Not even an inch.
“Maybe next time you shove your dick in my mouth, I’ll use my teeth.”
“You wanted dick, you got plenty of it.”
“I don’t know that yours is anything to write home about,” I shot off before I could think better of it.
He laughed. “Who called me big boy, hmm? And who had three fucking orgasms? Said she was too sensitive, couldn’t come again?”
“Bastard.”
“Bitch.”
I bit his shoulder. Hard.
He lifted himself off me just enough that he could slide a hand between us. I hadn’t been lying about my sensitivity. I’d never climaxed three times before, but it was entirely possible that it was because I’d always made my partner stop because it ached too much to keep going after the first time. Who knew that it was a sign I could come again—even more intensely—and not a sign that I needed to stop?
Ghost Dance (Tulsa Thunderbirds Book 3) Page 7
