by Melissa Blue
He wrapped his hands around her waist, moved them down to her ass. Her dress was so tight that he easily found the band of her thong, and, yup. Her ass was just as soft as he'd imagined. He took two handfuls and jerked her up against him until her legs draped low on his hips.
He found her pulse with his mouth. Her heart kicked up. Why couldn't he stop? He should fucking stop.
Do I want to?
The heat of her pussy was flush against his cock. She cupped the side of his face and brought his mouth back to hers.
How could this be wrong when the way she moaned against his lips before sucking on his tongue sounded so right? He set her on the kitchen counter, breaking the kiss to lick and nip at her neck again. Her legs tightened. He tugged down the top of the flimsy dress so that her bra was exposed—the fucking lace bra that made his head spin every time she'd reached into it. He wanted to growl at it.
The low-cut black lace cups molded to breasts that looked like they'd spill over. Right at the line, he could see the peek of a darker brown. He grabbed the middle and dragged down. Her nipples were perfectly round and stiff with arousal. Taking one between his teeth, he flicked his tongue over her.
“Vic,” she rasped, leaning back against the cabinet door.
He was rock hard, but he was going to lick every inch of her. See her bare and up close. Make her chant his name as she came. Stopping wasn't an option until he’d tasted her and had felt her tightness around him.
She reached down and cupped her mound. He should have known Ash wasn't patient.
“I need—”
“I know.” He knocked her hand away to replace it with his own.
He skimmed his fingertips over the soaked silk and groaned as he bit the side of her breast. He found the dampest spot with his thumb and rubbed upward, spreading the folds of her pussy.
At her sharp gasp, he knew he'd found her clit through the panties. He slipped a finger between the thin band and found her bare and so damn wet.
“Ash,” he groaned again.
He didn't want to tease her, so he touched her hard and fast, stroking the sensitive nub as it swelled under his ministrations.
She moved her hips against his caress. Didn't take long at all for her to grab at his shirt, stiffen, and then break apart on a long shuddering cry.
He brought his mouth back to hers, not wanting to miss the sweet sound. She trembled, gulping in air, but her breathlessness didn't stop her from pulling his shirt up over his head.
“You know what I want.” She went for his pants again, yanking down his boxers too.
He hissed as she closed her hand around the tip of his cock. Her touch was both gentle and firm. She expertly found just the right way to grip him, stroke him.
There was too much pent-up need pulsing at the base of his spine to let her continue. Gritting his teeth, he pinned her hands above her head like before and ripped at her panties until she was bare, wet and waiting for him.
He bent, relinquishing his hold on her wrists to bury his face between the soft folds of her pussy.
She gripped his hair, spreading her legs wider. Blindly, he reached for the pants still tangled around his legs, then dug for his wallet, and finally pulled out the condom he kept there for emergencies. He ripped the foil package open and slipped it on, because this was dire. He needed to be inside her, but her taste was filling his mouth and sating the hunger dinner hadn't touched.
He licked and slurped her, and kept going, even though she didn't even sound like Ash as she screamed his and God's name over and over again.
An ache grew in his groin. Fuck, he wanted to be balls deep—not yet. She hadn't come on his tongue. Shit, she hadn't pulled a few strands of hair out as he pushed her to edge with his mouth.
She scooted to the end of the counter, her hips rising up and down along his mouth, riding his tongue.
Just when he could taste the change of her cream, she pushed his head back. “Too much. I can't.”
“What do you want, Ash?” He needed her yes to be clear. God, he needed her like this.
He straightened, putting his hand to the small of her back.
Her eyes were bright. “Your hands, your mouth, your dick. I want you to fuck me, Vic.”
He had to close his eyes for a second and breathe. It was the only way to beat back the darkness wanting to take and take until there was nothing left of her but trembling legs and come. He could feel his control slipping.
“Victor.”
He groaned and slammed into her. Her sharp gasp froze his limbs. Shit.
“Don't stop,” she said before he could ask if he'd hurt her.
Ignoring the plea, he pulled out slowly, watching the way her pussy lips wrapped perfectly around his dick.
She grumbled a single incoherent word and it was likely his name or a vicious curse.
Victor laughed and then kissed her lightly. “You taste so good. Taste yourself,” he said, running his tongue over hers.
Ash closed her eyes and said something else indecipherable.
“I know.” He lined up his cock to her entrance again. “I wanted to make you come with my mouth, but you’re wet enough. I can feel the heat of you.”
He dipped his cock head into her arousal to wet the tip.
Shit.
If not for the condom he may have just come then and there. Victor had to close his eyes when he sank an inch into her before pulling back out.
“You're so fucking tight.”
Her pussy closed snug around him, sucking him in deeper.
“Ash, you feel so good.” The words came out in a low, gruff rush, and he couldn't be sure if she’d understood him.
She was moaning, though, her hands on him and pulling him closer.
Victor couldn't pinpoint when they'd gotten here. One moment he was telling himself that what they were doing could never happen, and in the next moment he was slapping his balls against her ass with each thrust. Regrets? What fucking regrets? Because if he were going to die in the next twenty-four hours, heaven just might seem like a disappointment in comparison.
Her nails dug deep into his skin and she let out a whimper.
“Am I hurting you?” His worry easily replaced the drunk-lust feeling rushing through him.
“No. I want you deeper.”
He pulled her well over the edge of the counter, his hold and her elbows the only support now. And fuck. He thrust into her harder, as deep as he could. She took all of him, her sex like a tight fist. Every inch of his body tingled and flushed. Everything within him coiled. He needed her to come fast and hard.
“Play with your clit, Ash. I want to see how you touch yourself. You don't have to imagine what this will be like, with us. I'm right here, inside you.”
She buried her face against his neck, and he could feel the beginnings of her orgasm tugging at him. His head threatened to explode from the intensity of the little quakes. His heart was already banging against his rib cage as if it wanted to jump out.
“Don't...” she begged, unable to finish the sentence.
“Can't stop,” he said, understanding the plea perfectly. “You're so close. I can feel it. Oh, God. You're going to make me come.”
Ash cried out as a shudder wracked through her—through them, because her reaction strummed into him. That tingle in his spine expanded, heated and skated up until his scalp felt like it was in a vise.
“Ash,” he said, again and again.
He was the one chanting her name this time. She just held him tight as their world shrunk, and it was only them. Sensations pounded into his every limb as he thrust harder, faster into her until he lost the rhythm.
Her hot breath brushed against the sensitive skin of his neck. He was wrapped entirely in Ash—her scent, her moans, her pussy. She left nothing behind as her orgasm continued to flash hot and bright. A growl emitted from his throat as he came, and the only thing he could think to do was bite her—claim her in some way so she knew...What?
He didn't fuck
ing know. Nothing but being inside Ash made sense as he clutched her to him. Nothing else mattered.
Turning his head, he took her mouth again, kissing her more deeply as his come spent inside her.
CHAPTER FOUR
~Gamer Truth: Some prefer the games where the princess saves herself.~
Ashley Hicks squinted at the clock next to her bed on the nightstand. One in the morning and Vic hadn't left yet. Not that she wanted him to—a first for her in a long time. She didn't invite many lovers to stay, but this was Vic. In her bed.
He was drawing some kind of design on her bare back that left a trail of heat in its wake. Probably his name, as he was a I-licked-it-so-it's-mine kind of guy. That should have scared her, but she couldn't move, could barely breathe and she was more than fine with that feeling. Great sex was supposed to dumb you down if only for a little while.
And she'd definitely pushed him to the edge just to see what it would be like to fall with him—had they landed yet? His fingertip brushed along a very sensitive spot between her ass and tailbone.
She trembled as another aftershock clenched her womb. She pressed her face deeper into the pillow to hide the moan.
Nope. Still falling.
And he still wasn't talking.
Gathering up some strength, she turned her head in his direction. The scowl had returned, yet he continued to draw on her back. She understood his need to touch her. She itched to cup his cheek, but that small gesture could break the moment. He'd leave her bed and that was the last thing she wanted.
Ash pushed out a quiet breath and just took him in. The dim light in her room caught on the sharp slope of his eyes and cheekbones. His eyes, as always, were pitch black and serious. He'd let his hair grow out just a bit longer than his favorite crew cut. His tanned skin was smooth, covered in scars, tats, and peppered with fine, dark hairs on his chest, arms and legs.
Details. None of them truly mattered because although Vic was in her bed, he was still untouchable.
For years she'd tried to climb over the wall he'd constructed between them. Tonight had been no different. This time, though, she’d gotten to use her hands and mouth in an attempt to caress every inch and every scar on him—to know him in the physical way she craved. A way that he'd never allowed.
When Ash had discovered the tattoo low on his torso, she’d had to pause. He'd inked his name, birthdate and his Social Security number on his skin. She knew the tat meant he'd not only thought of his death but planned for it.
He was a dangerous man and she'd provoked him. To anyone else, his scowl was formidable and could probably make the average Joe shit a brick. Still here she was facing him down and not cowering.
So...she was insane, impulsive, and would likely jump his bones again before he began to torture himself with the fact he'd slept with his best friend's sister. She finally knew his taste, the sound of his groans and, fuck, the curve of his jawline against her palm. The heat of his mouth as he devoured her moans.
Her heart kicked up as memory after memory of their sex flashed in her mind. She wanted more of that.
Her nipples tingled, threatening to telegraph her every thought. Ash pulled the cover up over her breasts. His gaze caressed the expose skin—skin he'd nipped and then kissed the sting from with his teeth. A flush crept up her neck. He tilted his head, meeting her stare straight on.
She tensed, braced herself.
“Thirsty?” His tone told her nothing.
She sighed, then swallowed the bite frustration that wanted to leak out. He was leaving her bed, and much too soon.
“About a gallon of water would be nice,” she finally answered.
He climbed out.
Of course she had enough energy to turn and watch his bare ass. He hadn't given up his workout routine since leaving the military. That truth showed in every sinew and muscle that flexed as he moved toward the door. The tattoo down his spine—hieroglyphics—only highlighted his broad shoulders. From there each scar was decorated with ink.
She pursed her lips. One was a tropical flower. Vic had been stationed in Hawaii. Didn't take long to connect the dots. His body art told a story without him having to utter a word. All of it made him beautifully masculine.
Ash gripped the sheet to keep herself from jumping out of the bed and tackling him to the floor. After Victor disappeared through the doorway, she had nothing more to ogle or distract her.
Porter.
“Dammit.”
Being alone was all it took for her head and heart to smack her. Her brother wasn't collateral damage. Outside of their mother, he was probably the only person she'd die for.
Guilt rushed in and squeezed the air out of her lungs. Her pulse seemed to beat against her temples. If her brother found out she’d been with Victor, Porter’s soft, brown eyes would fill with hurt and disappointment.
No matter how wild and reckless she'd been over the years with men, and other life choices, she'd never been on the receiving end of that look.
Hell, she'd only seen it once—when their father had cheated on their mother.
Porter had stood in the middle of that aftermath and hardened his heart and made clear boundaries. His family and his friends didn't need to—no, shouldn't coexist.
Just like Ash, he’d seen the way their close family and their tight knit small community had ripped apart when shit had hit the fan. He’d seen people taking sides, saying things that could never be unspoken—a scorched earth where a family used to be.
So, he’d decided that Ash was off limits to his friends and vice versa. Not much to ask for, really. His stance made her love him more. He cherished what he had and would never fuck it up.
And Ash? Well...She knew no amount of rules could keep her safe. She lived by a don't-give-a-damn-about-much credo, but it had never led her to hurting her brother.
“Dammit,” she said, her stomach clenching.
If her brother found out, he would never understand that she and Vic had needed to end up in bed, and sooner rather than later. Sex, despite their situation, was simple. It was an itch, a need, an ache—whatever word that fit best.
Lust .
But Porter wouldn't care about the reasons. She was his baby sis—no man's land to anyone who called him friend. That was the hard, clear line. And what did she do? She’d said, “Fuck it. Let me hop over that bitch.” Maybe she wasn't just impulsive. Maybe she was a horrible, horrible person like their dad.
Am I?
“Shit,” she groaned.
This was why she didn't like self-reflection. It never led to any good thoughts.
“Ash?” Vic asked but the question sounded more like a laugh.
She glanced at him and dread twisted in her gut. He was dressed.
Ash sat up, pulling the sheet with her. He settled onto the bed beside her and offered the water. The scowl had been replaced with an equally ominous brow furrow. Because Ash knew Vic, she knew what it meant. He was nothing if not straightforward and she liked that about him.
“Is this where you let me down easy?” she joked. “Vow to withhold dick from now until forever?”
“You know this shouldn't have happened.”
Why did those words sting even though she'd braced herself for them? He wouldn't pause over the fact that their sex was amazing, and that they should fuck again to make sure it wasn't a fluke. Again and again until there was no more doubt.
That wasn't important at all, at least to Vic. Sex between them was wrong, a betrayal, and another whole list of words that she wouldn't use…unless self-fucking-reflecting.
Ash forced down a swallow, and pushed out, “So you regret it?”
He spread his hands out in front of him. “I regret that I'm going to have to lie to my friend. I can't tell him about this.”
She slid deeper beneath the sheet. “Why would you? That's crazy.” Though an honorable act, perhaps, from Vic's point of view, but... “It's none of his business who we sleep with, even if we happen to be sleeping with each othe
r.”
“Ash.” His voice held a note of warning.
“What? And telling him is a little creepy, if you think hard about it.” She lowered her voice to mimic Victor’s. “I had sex with you sister and it was good.”
He didn't look amused. “Ashley.”
“He doesn't have to know we're great in bed together, because that's skeevy knowledge.” She swallowed and added, “And it will hurt him.”
His gaze, once again, went to all the parts of her that weren’t covered. Victor sighed, his jaw tightening. “Ash...”
He didn't finish that sentence. He just took the cup of water from her hand and put the glass on the nightstand before climbing back into bed with her. He pulled her into him, crooking his face into her neck, and holding her close. She couldn't help but curl into his warmth.
“We can't do this again,” he said. “You know that.”
Now he said that before sucking the skin along her neck. How could they not do this the next time they were within touching distance? Liquor may have been the inciting incident, but their unspent lust had paved their road to hell. He'd stood in her kitchen and for the first time, they were alone. Really alone. Vic wasn't waiting for Porter to show up. None of his friends were going to drop by. No one would think he'd still be in her home after dropping her off.
They could be Vic and Ash—a man and a woman who were done fighting their attraction. Despite years of avoiding that exact situation, it had finally happened and they'd succumbed.
“I'm not out of your system?” she asked, damn near purring. Definitely forgetting why he was right.
No answer. He was too busy kissing his way up to her mouth. She didn't mind that one bit. He kissed her deep and hard and long. She wondered if he would stop or if this was just his goodbye.
Since it was likely the latter, she fisted a hand in his hair, melting again under his mouth. This kiss seemed hotter, darker than the one they had shared in the kitchen. There was no alcohol to soften the sensual impact of his tongue dipping into her mouth, his teeth nipping at all the sensitive places he'd found. He was taking her under and she had nothing to save herself from him.
