by Jezelle
“First, I want to make sure you understand this doesn’t change anything between us. I still hate you. This is a one-time deal, and purely physical.”
“Very physical. So let’s get on with it.”
Her fingers dug into his scalp.
“Second, save for this reciting of the rules, there is to be no talking. One more word out of you, and I walk. Got it?” She tugged his forelock. “Just nod your head yes, Storm.”
Jackson saw her point. Talking always got them in trouble. Okay, okay, anything to move the action forward. He nodded.
“Third—and this is a biggie—we will be careful. Your dick comes nowhere near my pussy unless it’s wearing a condom. I hope to God you have some.”
He liked the way she said “some” as opposed to one, and as it happened, he had a pocketful—always did. He’d never been anything even remotely resembling a Boy Scout, but he still believed in being prepared. He nodded again.
“And fourth”—a little tremor passed through her, and her voice went hoarse—“if you want to eat me, do it in bed, for chrissakes, where I can lie down. It’s too goddamned uncomfortable to come standing up!”
“Not the way I do it.” He flashed her a wicked grin.
Cait stamped her foot. “You just broke rule number two. Can’t keep your mouth shut for five friggin’ seconds, can you?”
All huffy indignation, she swung her back on him and bent over to collect her clothes from the velvet-covered bench.
Jackson winced. The sight hurt, but it hurt good. A cock-throbbing close display of lush, round ass and rosy slit shining with feminine dew. She couldn’t have presented herself more perfectly for his desire if she’d done it on purpose. And for all he knew, she had.
Another tease?
His patience snapped.
“That does it. If you want rules, I’ll make them.” Grabbing her hips, he pulled her back to meet his mouth.
“Ack!” Surprise collapsed her, belly-down, over the bench, which positioned her buns beautifully up in the air.
Even better. In all honesty, she didn’t look like she planned on going anywhere. Now. Her upturned ass wiggled in what looked a lot like an invitation.
Fanny-on-a-platter.
Ravenous, he licked her from stem to stern and back again—sampled it all—tasted clit, slit, and anus. A juicy smorgasbord of female delicacies, drenched in hot cream, smelling like a fresh fuck.
Yum. He stopped snacking and dug in for a solid meal, slipped a hand under her and fingered her swollen nub while he speared his tongue into her cunt.
“Ooooh…you bastard…”
In a low moan she cursed him, but made no move to struggle free. Being Cait, she had to offer a token protest, just for show. He’d expected it. Expected her to melt in his mouth, too. She didn’t disappoint him. Her breaths turned to gasps. Her body quivered, teetering on the brink of orgasm. A few more seconds and he’d send her over the edge…
* * *
Wham!
Cait’s eyes crossed. She spasmed and quaked and almost passed out as a climax flattened her like a steamroller. Heavy hands on her thighs anchored her in place.
“You came too fast. That means I have to start all over. Take two, from the top,” Jackson announced as if he were a film director.
Except from his vantage point, the “top” was her bottom.
A shuddering breath rasped out of her as his hands swept up the backs of her thighs, squeezed her fanny, and spread her cheeks apart. With a husky “Mmmm,” he buried his face between her legs, nibbled and licked his way up her crease, then settled into the merciless business of tongue-fucking her ass.
He was very good at it. So good one might have thought he’d invented the activity, or at least owned the patent on it.
She never had a chance. The new climax fried nerve-endings and crackled her hair. Cait jerked like an electrocution victim, then collapsed like a quivering mound of tapioca pudding. He’d just discovered one of her naughtiest little secrets.
And he wasted no time taking advantage of it. “You like it that way, huh?” While she hung limp and panting, he unzipped his jeans and rolled on a condom. “They’re lubricated,” he said, as though that explained the action. Which it did.
“Much appreciated.” The thanks came out on a dry croak. Resistance was futile. He was gonna shove it where the sun don’t shine, whether she was amenable to the idea or not.
Fortunately, she was. She wiggled against his hand as he stroked through her wetness and worked first one finger, then two into her rear passage—stretching her, spreading her juices, readying her for him.
“Mmm, you’re so tight.” He slid his fingers in and out, while warning her what he’d do next. “I’m going to enter you slow—real slow—so you can feel every inch of me as I stuff it into you. And you’re going to take every inch, too. You’ll love it. I’m going to fill you with fire.”
Cait groaned. Damn, if she didn’t almost pop her cork again, just from the sexy timbre of his voice, a sound like burnt sugar, hot and sweet. Smoke filled her head. Her breath turned to steam. She wanted more.
She got it.
With infinite care, he drew her backward and pushed into her—inch by inch as promised—till he was sitting on the floor, and she was snug on his lap with his cock buried to the hilt between her cheeks. He kissed her neck and let his touch rove over her bared breasts, down to her pussy, and back up again, fondling her front while he fucked her behind.
“Maybe I’ll keep you here naked all day, just to see how many times I can make you come, and in how many different ways,” he whispered.
The words alone might have done it, but coupled with those roving hands and that steel rod shoving into her, orgasm was inescapable. She melted into slag on the spot. White-hot molten waves coursed through her.
Jackson’s chuckle vibrated against her spine. “Aw c’mon, sweetheart, you’re making it almost too easy.”
Was that a challenge?
Cait blinked a red haze out of her eyes as her pulse slowed from a gallop to a trot. He might have just thrown down a gauntlet before her. Quickly, she raked her wits together.
Laugh it up, pal. Dems fightin’ words.
If the man wanted a sexual duel, he’d get one. He was good—damn good—but so was she. And she had the advantage on him now. She had three climaxes behind her, while he hadn’t come once yet. Showoff. Flaunting his iron control to better toy with hers? Yeah, she’d enjoyed the toying. This game was a ton of fun the way he played it. But she didn’t want to be selfish. Poor Jacky must be ready to burst by now.
And if he wasn’t, he soon would be.
Full of evil intent, she slid off him onto the floor, twisted around to kneel between his knees, and grinned at him, like a cat ready to lick some cream.
Jackson gulped. He knew he was in trouble, she could tell. Beads of sweat appeared on his brow. “Um…what do you think you’re doing?”
“Either admiring the carpeting, or getting ready to give you a blowjob. You choose.”
“Well, it is nice carpeting… Oh, shit—” He grabbed her wrists, but too late.
She’d already rolled the condom off him, cupped his testicles with her left hand, and fisted her right around the base of his erection. Her grip tightened in proportion to his attempt to break her hold. “Careful, Storm, if you pull me away, something you value may go with me.”
“Hey now, wait a minute.” He shot her a frown, trying so hard to look stern. And failing so delightfully. “Have I given you permission for this?”
“I need permission?” Her brows arched up. “You didn’t ask for mine.”
“Oh sure, throw that in my face.” He suppressed a moan as she traced the tip of her tongue up the underside of his shaft. The hand-lock on her wrists clenched convulsively. “So I got carried away. So sue me.”
“Nope, I’d rather suck your brains out.” She nuzzled the firm flesh in her grasp and inhaled. Mmm, he smelled delicious—all male. Cait nibbled a h
ot path back down to his balls.
Jackson let out a low guttural groan. “You’re not going to let me out of this, are you?”
She licked him again, like a lollypop. “Do you really want me to?”
“God, no.” His grip on her wrists popped open, and he buried his hands in her hair.
Smart man.
Cait closed her lips over his cock, pushed down, and sucked him deep into her mouth, so deep the smooth mushroom head bumped the back of her throat. So deep he shuddered and his fingers dug into her scalp. Sliding him in and out, mixing delicate scrapes of her teeth with some creative tongue action, she sucked him till he exploded like a firecracker, till she’d milked him dry and swallowed every drop.
Jackson collapsed backward, gasping for air.
Hah! So much for control.
In smug triumph, she straddled his hips and leaned forward, giving him a stupendous view of her breasts—but with his eyelids seared shut he hadn’t noticed that yet. She braced her right hand against his shoulder; her left hand still cupped him.
Like a deep-sea diver hauling up from the ocean floor, Jackson pulled himself out of a post-orgasmic stupor. His eyes opened to the sight of Cait’s tits staring at him point blank.
He stared back.
“Be a good boy, and I may let you suck them,” she said.
“What?” His eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed with razor-edged amusement. “Hey, listen, princess, I don’t take orders. I give them.”
“Not this time.” She squeezed his balls to let him know she meant business.
He made a strangling noise and grabbed her ribcage, his thumbs sliding under her breasts. His eyes took on a glacial glint, like black ice. Very carefully, he enunciated each word. “Cait, you are looking for trouble.”
“Mmm, I think I found some, too.” Her grip shifted to his shaft. “You’re starting to get hard again. This is turning you on.”
It was turning her on, she knew that. Or was it the low note of threat in his tone, the hint of danger in his gaze that sent an electric thrill down her spine?
He smiled, a sinister slash of white teeth. “I’m getting hard because I’m thinking about how I’m going to fuck your hot cunt in a few minutes.”
His thumbs swept over her nipples, and her vaginal muscles clenched.
Gulp... She may have bitten off more than she could chew.
Cait’s thighs quivered, but she was damned if she’d forfeit the game so easily. She stared down her nose at him. “Uh-uh. Not until I say so.”
“Don’t push your luck.” The hands on her tightened, not to hurt, but firm enough to show he could if he wanted. His whisper rasped her like sandpaper. “I can be very gentle…or not. But, believe me, I can make you like it either way. In other words, sweetheart, let go of my nuts. Now. Or suffer the consequences.”
He pulled her closer, drew the peak of one tit into his mouth and suckled, then switched to the other and nipped. Both actions, soft and sharp, sent torrid tingles shooting into her core.
Okay, okay, she believed him. Sheesh.
She let go of his balls, but only because she was too tempted to rip them off, and… Well, in the long run, they’d do her more good where they were. She might be pissed, but she wasn’t stupid. Besides, it allowed her to use both fists to pound on his shoulders and chest.
“Damn you, Jackson Storm. Why does everything always have to be your way?”
“Because you like my way.”
“You liked my way just as much. Or did I hallucinate that malted milkshake I just swallowed?”
“Yes, I liked your way. A man would have to be dead, buried and decomposing to not like your way. But now it’s my turn.”
She sputtered and choked as he sat up, caught her arms and anchored them behind her, locking both her wrists in his left hand. His right hand buried in the tumble of curls at the base of her skull and tugged back her head, exposing her throat to an ungodly open-mouthed mauling that sent hypnotic heat swirling through her, and let her know why the vampires’ victims in the movies always gave in so easily.
Damn, this was jalapeno hot. But scary. She panted and made little mewling and hissing sounds, like a frightened, angry kitten.
Muscled arms contracted. The fist in her hair firmed its grip. With steady pressure, which created little pain, not like a yank would have—not that she had enough working brain cells right then to notice—Jackson pulled her more squarely onto his lap and pushed her snug against his groin, so his newly established erection slid horizontally through her folds and rubbed her clit. Now that she noticed. She moaned and squirmed and bit her tongue to keep from crying out.
“Cait, relax. I’m not going to hurt you. It’s just so much fun to tease you and make you think I am, I can’t help myself.” Jackson chuckled. “Hell, I haven’t even put any hickeys on your neck—though I’ve been sorely tempted.”
He was Satan’s spawn! An evil, evil man.
While she bordered on hyperventilating, he let go of her wrists to fish out another plastic packet, tear it open with his teeth, and thumb out the condom. Real macho. She was too weak by that time to resist. Too resigned to her fate.
And too goddamned aroused.
Help me, Lord… This guy was ruthless.
“Lift your hips, babe, just for a sec.” A gentle tug on her hair urged her upward, off him, and he sheathed himself. Then her hair was released, and both his hands were on her waist, lowering her onto his cock.
“Oooooh…” A low groan escaped her as he drove in deep. For a devil, he felt like one wowzer of a big piece of heaven. Her eyes closed, her head tilted back, and she clutched his shoulders. Suddenly all she wanted was to ride him to the moon.
Wouldn’t you know he wouldn’t let her.
“Don’t move.” Those strong hot hands held her glued to his groin. “Do. Not. Move.”
Aw no…no…
She almost strangled him in frustration. “You and your fucking dominance.” Or should that be “dominant fucking”? Whatever. It sucked at this particular moment. And not in the good way. Her fingers dug into the flesh above his collarbone, itching to grab his throat. Her words came out in a whimper. “God, I hate you.”
“So you keep saying. Why don’t I believe it?”
Her breath caught on a sob. “Because I don’t believe it either.” She crumpled forward and wrapped her arms about his neck, burying her face against the side of his head. “It’s just that you make me so friggin’ mad. If you want to fuck me, then fuck me, for chrissake. Stop torturing me. I’m ready to explode.”
“I know. And that’s exactly why we’re going to sit here, very still, until we’ve got it under control. Because the longer we can hold off the explosion, the bigger and better it feels.” His arms wound around her waist, pulling her tighter.
Heavy hot ache burned in her belly. To feel him pressed against her, and inside her…so sensual, so solid…and so still… Groan. This was like something out of the Spanish Inquisition.
Very soft and light, Jackson kissed the tender spot where her shoulder met her neck. “You’re beautiful, Cait. Maybe I’ve never said so before, but I’ve always thought it.” His husky whisper sent warm shivers dancing over nerve ends.
Her ache increased. “I want to move, damn it.”
“Shh…not yet. I’ll tell you when.”
I’ll tell you something now. With body language.
She gripped him with inner muscles and squeezed.
It earned her a pinch on the ass. “Ow!”
“I said I will tell you when.”
“Who died and left you in charge?”
“I’m in charge because I’m good at it.”
“And I’m not?” She lifted her head to glare at him.
He answered with a sexy stare, his eyes half closed—sexy and sure of it. “You’re awesome. Which is why I want to prolong this moment.” His hand smoothed over her bottom and rubbed the cheek he’d pinched. “Now, hold still—everywhere—or I’ll delay the mai
n event even longer. And I’ll do bad, dirty things to you while we wait.”
He whispered some of those things in her ear.
He was right. They were dirty.
Cait’s breath went ragged. She clenched her teeth to stop herself from clenching anything else. How much more could she stand? The forced immobility all by itself was becoming a huge turn-on. Jackson obviously knew that. Cait knew a lot, too—could finally admit she’d been madly in love with him for years. Granted, till now, the emphasis had always been on the “mad,” but they’d broken through the anger today and reached a new level of understanding it seemed. Giving in to their pent-up passions had worked a fuckin’ miracle…so to speak.
He gripped her hips and started pushing up into her with short even strokes, until she caught the rhythm and lifted and sank to meet him on each one. Then the strokes grew longer, deeper…smooth and sweet as thick cream… Super yummy.
Cait surrendered to the motion. It was dreamy, like a choreographed dance, a perfect, harmonious blending of hearts and bodies and souls. She could almost swear she heard music…
The Rolling Stones’ “Play With Fire”? Almost too appropriate. It might have been a manifestation of the sex. An audio illusion spawned by Jackson’s hypnotic style of loving?
With a start, she realized the song actually was playing. It came from the rec room directly below the bedroom.
Aw shit, they weren’t alone anymore. Maybe one of the maids had returned for something. Piss-poor timing, Cait thought.
“Jackson”—she clenched fingers on his biceps—“someone’s in the house.”
“Shh…” He hushed her without ever missing a stroke, kissing a sizzling line over her jaw, up to her ear, then down her neck to her collarbone and across her shoulder. Between the nips and nuzzles, he explained. “It’s Sam. He likes music, so I taught him how to turn on the stereo. It’s just two buttons, power and play. He pushes them with his nose. Providing I’ve remembered to leave a CD in the drive for him, the trick works, and he thinks he’s done something way cool. I put in the Stones’ CD this morning…feeling a little nostalgic, I guess, because of the reunion.”
