The Assignment

by Jade A. Waters

  He took a second bite of the cheesecake, then cut another piece for me. After I took the bite, he caught our waitress’s eye and signaled for the check. “How about we play? Discover what turns us both on.”

  I could more than live with that, but I didn’t have a chance to answer because the waitress brought the check.

  Dean offered his credit card without checking the bill—we were both too busy gazing at one another. The playful look in his eyes countered the tense, masculine edge of his jaw. When he offered me another bite of the cheesecake and I leaned forward, he pulled it back. “Do you want to play, Maya?”

  “Yes.” I advanced, but he drew the bite back once more. I cocked my head.

  “Do you accept?” he asked. The words spread a chill across the surface of my arms.

  Oh, we really are doing this.

  Slowly, I nodded.

  “Say it.”

  “I accept.”

  The waitress came back. She put the receipt and Dean’s card on the table, pretending not to notice the bite of cheesecake he floated in front of my face. “Thank you both so much. I hope you have a...uh...” she peered between us, “...fabulous night.”

  “Oh, we will,” he said.

  I tongued my lip, then lurched forward to steal the bite.

  Dean, however, snatched it away. “Say it again.”

  “You’re killing me,” I said, snickering. “But I accept whatever the hell you’re offering. Gladly.”

  “Good girl.” Dean raised the fork to my lips and smiled while I chewed. I rolled my eyes. “Now, when you’re done making fun of my proposition, I’d like to take you back to our suite and fuck you.”

  I swallowed down the bite in my mouth, and Dean stood from the table to offer up his hand.

  When I took it, he dragged me from my seat without another word.

  * * *

  I lost track of time once we left the table. There was an abrupt wave at the hostess, a quiet walk across the wooden slats of the pier and an awkward wait for the elevator. Dean didn’t take his eyes off mine as three other people boarded with us. His chest kept lifting, widening like a promise of what would happen the moment he had me alone. When the elevator doors parted on our floor, he looped his arm in mine and tugged me close.

  The earlier tease had me ready and curious. The alcohol in my body didn’t hurt either, and as Dean led me down the hall, I pinched his side playfully.

  “You’re so serious. Are you always like this?”

  He backed me against our suite door, twisting his mouth while he fumbled in his pocket for the key. “Honestly?” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m incredibly turned on and trying not to fuck you right here in this hallway.”

  “Oh.”

  He had the key out in the next second and swiped it over the sensor. The lock process lagged, but Dean moved ahead anyway, blocking me between him and the door. His cock was firm on my belly, his hips urging me.

  “I want you,” he said.

  The door fell open as he lowered his lips to mine, and he had to catch me when I tumbled backward. Then it was a race—Dean slamming the door and yanking me against him, his hands cupping my ass, his mouth taking mine in a more masterful kiss than he’d bestowed me with before dinner.

  I sucked in a breath, lost in the movements, the force of his lips. His body overpowered me, a mass of muscle that smothered and caressed. I rocked up my hips and he groaned, one hand sliding between my cheeks and the other gripping my waist, my back and my shoulder. When he twined his fingers in my hair, he jerked back my head.

  “Wait,” he said. I froze, my lips parted.

  What the fuck? “I—”

  “Shh.” Dean tightened his hold on my hair, and my heart pounded loudly. He pulled my head farther back, exposing more of my neck. “Fuck, you’re irresistible. I just want to slow down and take you all in.”

  I’d never had a man look at me as entranced as Dean did now, and it made my knees wobble. He jarred every nerve when he breathed down over my face.

  “Tell me what you want,” he said.

  What could I say?

  “We’re not moving until you speak. Be direct. Explicit. Like your assignment.”

  I panted, loving the rise and fall of his chest. “I want you to kiss me.”

  “And?” Dean wrapped his hand around my ass and clasped me tighter, as if we could get any closer. I shivered at the leap of his cock against my stomach and his fingers inching my skirt up while he waited.

  “I want your tongue.”

  “Where? Be direct, Maya.”

  A hundred times I’d said these phrases, to lovers, boyfriends, one-night stands. But with him waiting, I felt brazen. Empowered. Like the words—his words, mine, the texts—were the secret to everything we were about to share. “In my pussy.”

  Dean inhaled sharply. “Yes. I will. Tell me more.” He released my hair and lowered his other hand to my skirt, gathering it into both of his hands. The lace trim crept along the back of my thighs at the most excruciating pace. Dean’s erection dug into me, and I longed to see him naked. To feel him, then.

  “I want you to fuck me.”

  “God. Say it again.” He ground himself against me and snuck his fingers beneath my skirt to grab my ass hard. I moaned.

  “I want you inside me now, Dean. Fuck me.”

  He whipped me around, one hand curving around my belly and the other shoving my skirt high enough for him to lay his palm on my ass. Beneath the thin fabric I’d worn a lace thong, and he spread his fingers over the bare skin of my cheek.

  “This is sexy. You’re...so sexy.” He palmed my ass, then slid his fingers under my thong. He pressed his lips to the nape of my neck and found the crevice between my thighs in under a second.

  “Oh God,” I cried.

  Dean slipped a finger deep. “You’re dripping.” He plunged a second finger inside and held me close. “So hot...and wet.”

  I arched my ass up, trying to take his fingers deeper, but he’d pinned me in place with his other hand, which he spread over my flesh before squeezing me.

  “Fuck...”

  With a thrust of another finger, Dean moved me forward. He was guiding me from within, keeping one hand on my belly and walking me toward the window. Suddenly, my breasts smashed against the glass, the wooden paneling that shielded it folded open.

  “Dean,” I murmured.

  He didn’t stop. I didn’t want him to, either. His fingers slid in and out, and I exhaled a puff of air that painted a faint circle on the glass. He said, “We’re going to fuck right here,” and pressed himself along my back.

  I opened my eyes, my breath heaving as I observed the view of both the water and the square below. A couple walked down the pier, their arms looped. They were such a contrast to what Dean did to me, right there. His thumb and pinky spread me, urging my legs farther apart, and I obliged. Already moaning, already lost.

  “That’s it,” he said. He paused his finger fuck, and I pleaded.

  “Don’t stop. Please.”

  I’d lost all semblance of control.

  Dean kissed the cheek not wedged against the glass and backed away. “Don’t move.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t. You. Fucking. Move.” He said each word deliberately, and without him at my back, with my body up against the window, I wanted to cry with delirious anticipation. “I’m going to strip you now. I want you naked on that window when I take you.”

  Inside me, something unlocked. I ached to turn, to see him naked, to kiss him like the normal couple on the pier would do when making love—but more of me pined for this. For the cold press of the glass and the order of his words.

  The surrender to his complete control.

  I he
ard the rustle of Dean’s clothes behind me. I couldn’t discern how much he’d taken off before noting the familiar crinkle of a wrapper and a soft grunt I took to mean he’d sheathed himself. He grabbed at my shirt and tugged it over my head. He clutched me through my bra, then unhooked it and shoved me back to the glass. My nipples beaded against the coolness, and Dean yanked my skirt and panties down in one effortless swipe. He pulled my shoes off my feet and dragged his hands up the back of my thighs, sending a tumble of heat through me.

  “Incredible,” he said.

  He pressed against my back. He’d shed all his clothes, it turned out, and his chest on my skin was hot, unyielding. When he nudged against the curve of my ass, his hands roamed my sides, and his pelvis kept me tight to the window as he twined one hand in my hair.

  “How do you feel?”

  Farther down the pier, the couple had taken each other’s hands. They were tame and normal compared to us, to this. Dean arched his hips up, his cockhead pushing against my drenched cleft while he clamped his teeth on my earlobe. I felt the thrum of his heartbeat through my skin.

  “Maya?”

  “I feel amazing.”

  “Good.” Dean buried himself with a groan, stretching me wide.

  “Oh, God,” I muttered.

  Repeatedly, he plowed into me, keeping me flush against the window save for the yank of his hand on my hair, the pressure on my scalp intense and tantalizing. He slid the fingers of his other hand between the glass and my belly to grip me close. “You’re so ready...”

  I panted as he filled and retreated, taking long, forceful strokes that worked me into a frenzy. He tugged on my hair and slipped his fingers down, and rubbed my swollen bud until I bucked back with loud, desperate cries.

  “Yes, Maya.”

  I could barely hold my eyes open. “Dean...” I moaned.

  He clamped his hand around the back of my neck as he thrust. He was lost in me, growling in my ear, sending heat swirling in my belly. “God, yes!”

  When Dean came, he jerked up hard. I smacked my cheek on the glass, but I was trembling and too stunned to care.

  We stood there, his cock lodged so deep that I was pinned in place. Dean wrapped both arms around my torso, his fingers gentle across my belly.

  He kissed my shoulder and eased himself out, then pressed every hot inch of his body against mine. “I’m sorry. We skipped a step.”

  I’d sucked in too much air. My cheeks were numb, my thoughts fuzzy. “What?”

  “You wanted my tongue.”

  I curled my fingers on the glass. Everything was hazy.

  Was this guy for real?

  “Get on the bed. It’s your turn.”

  Chapter Six

  Dean didn’t wait for me to move. Instead, he grabbed me by the wrist and steered me toward the bed before I had a second to register what was happening.

  I bounced on the mattress, strangely aware of my nakedness in this big, open space of a room. In front of me stood Dean, stripped and gorgeous, pulling the condom off in one graceful motion and staring over me like I was the spectacle here. His hair was tousled from fucking me on the window, and the glisten of sweat on his golden skin complemented the broad spread of his chest, the thick, muscular shape of his thighs and the ridiculous firmness of his abs.

  And as if that weren’t enough, his cock remained thick with blood despite him coming not two minutes ago. He took one hand to his length in that erotic, male way, and pointed at the pillows. “Scoot back and put your arms over your head.”

  I did what I was told. My brain spun, and my body quaked with the thrill of having been fucked against the glass. I hadn’t come yet, but my nerves were alight and raw, my cunt hypersensitive. Dean dropped to the mattress and folded between my legs, his fingers gripping me above each knee, nails scraping my overheated flesh.

  “I did this all wrong,” he said. His fingers traced vines along my skin.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I was too eager with you.” He clasped my bare thigh so hard I cried out, then he stroked my other leg affectionately.

  I shifted my hands down to his head and he sat up.

  “No. Put your hands over your head and grab the comforter. Don’t move them again.”

  I did, fisting it as best as I could from this angle.

  Dean crept onto his knees to sit taller. He used my thighs to prop himself up and shoved my legs apart. “No matter what I do, don’t move your hands. I want you like this. Open for me.”

  The thud of my heart sank into my pussy. I could feel my pulse in my folds, and I ached for more.

  Dean kept his hands on my thighs and lowered his mouth above my mound. “Do you want this?”

  “Yes!”

  “Do you like this?”

  “Yes,” I said. I clenched the comforter like I hung from a cliff. He blew out a huge puff of air, aiming the warmth at my clit, and I arched up to him. With the way he held my knees, my only freedom came from the loose hold I had above my head.

  Dean dipped closer to my cleft, his gaze trained on my face. “I like hearing the sound of your breath. Hearing you say what you like. Do you understand that?”

  I panted. “Yes. God, yes.”

  Dean spread my legs farther apart. He lowered his nose to my folds, and I pinched my eyes shut, my need driving me mad.

  “Are you always such a tease?” I asked.

  “Just establishing ground rules.”

  “Oh?” I lifted up my hips in desperation when he pulled his face away.

  “Lower your hips.”

  I did.

  “You take instruction well. That’s a plus.”

  “Can we get to the rules, please? You’re torturing me...”

  Dean slid his hands up my thighs. He clutched my flesh every few inches until he reached the crease beside my sex, then pressed his fingers into this gap before digging them into my hips.

  “Oh my God.”

  “Sensitive hips?”

  “Yes.”

  “I want to find all your sensitive spots. Explore every fucking inch of you, front, back, inside and out.”

  I fisted the comforter so tight I lost sensation in my fingers.

  “I’ll take you in every way you’ve been taken, Maya, and every way you’ve never dreamed. I want you to do anything I ask.”

  Maybe it was the endorphins. The throb of my clit. The torture of having someone this handsome lick his lips a mere inch from my pussy, the heat of his body reaching my skin even though he hardly touched me.

  Not enough.

  “Whatever you fucking want, I’m in,” I growled. “Just touch me.”

  Dean slipped his thumbs higher, grazing my outer folds and nuzzling his nose into the short curls on my mound. “Gladly,” he groaned.

  And then he did.

  He circled my clit expertly, his tongue sweeping around and around before running the length of my slit. He curved one hand around my hip while he aligned the fingers of his other hand with my opening.

  I shuddered as he traced my shape. I hadn’t moved my legs, and when he snuck his fingers in he didn’t bother to warm me up. He didn’t need to. He simply wrapped his mouth around my clit and shoved three fingers in at once, his breath coming in tiny gasps that filled my ears until he took a hard suck and pulled away.

  “You’re so open. I bet one day I could give you four.”

  I rocked my hips up in a silent plea, but he pinned them down. I thrashed, and though I knew I could release the comforter, I didn’t.

  I liked this game.

  Dean flicked his tongue, and I jumped, the orgasm building up within me. I could snap my legs together but his body was in the way, all of him folded over my hips, holding me in place. He took one long suck on my cli
t and buried his fingers inside. “Come for me.”

  I closed my eyes and pushed myself down, hypnotized by his orchestration, by his words. It was tremendous, as if he’d practiced this a hundred times and knew me inside and out. I bucked against his lips. Tendrils of heat shot into my thighs while Dean worked my sensitive nub with the smooth, hungry pace of his tongue.

  “You’re quivering around my fingers. Give it to me...” He dove deeper, his mouth furious and hot.

  The pleasure rippled through me, and I wailed.

  Dean smothered my cunt as I came, never relenting with his fingers, riding every jerk I made beneath him with his gasps filling my ears. When I softened in his hold, he drew his tongue in gentle laps that made me jump in my sensitive after-state.

  “That was beautiful.” Dean rested his head on my hip with a sated grin and the evidence of my pleasure on his lips.

  I blinked, dazed, my hands still high above my head. “Can I move my arms?” I murmured.

  “No.” He pulled his fingers back, then stepped away to dig another foil package out from his abandoned slacks. His eyes darkened while he watched me—my legs parted, my crevice wet. My breasts heaved with each breath, and I clenched my elbows together over my face.

  He ripped open the package and I shook my head. “Why am I listening to you?”

  Dean rolled the condom down his length and walked over to the bed, his lips upturned once more. His cock stood out from his hips as a proud mast waiting to fill me. “Because you want this.” He gripped my ankles and wrenched me closer, and my secure hold on the comforter folded it over my forehead. “Don’t let go.”

  I didn’t. Not when Dean spread my legs till I felt split apart. Not when he scooped his hands under my ass and lifted me in line with his dick.

  And certainly not when he shoved himself deep, plunging until his balls slapped against my ass and both of us screamed out.

  Stretched, woozy and weak, I clung to the comforter, unable to move while he thrust. The sweetest line of sweat formed along his hairline as he kept himself so far in I thought I’d break.

  “Yes,” I cried, but he kept driving forward. Pleasure seared through every inch of me.