by Marie James
The swirl of her tongue isn’t expert on any level, but you’d never be able to convince my tight-as-fuck balls of that. The angle of her head isn’t right, revealing she hasn’t done much of this before, but instead of making me wish for more, I find myself grateful for the opportunity to teach her what I like.
When her cheeks collapse, sucking in around the length of me, I realize just how fast of a lesson this is going to be. I can’t take my eyes off of her even though I have a dire need to look to the ceiling and count my blessings. Below her mouth, her bound feet quiver, toes digging into the carpet like she’s trying to find a way to stay grounded herself.
I, on the other hand, am seconds away from needing to be scraped off the fucking ceiling.
“So good,” I praise, my fingers tangling in her wild hair.
I attempt to distract myself by letting the softness filter through my fingers, but then she gags, the sound echoing around the room like a filthy exclamation. When she pulls her head back, a silken strand of saliva drips to her chin. Instead of wiping it away, she lets it rest there, a trophy of her hard work.
“Open,” I whisper when she licks at her now puffy lips. She obeys.
I slide in, using my grip on her hair as a warning of how deep I plan to go.
“Look at you,” I praise, my cock resting on her flexed tongue. “You have the most fuckable mouth. Does your pussy ache? Do you wish I was sliding inside of your cunt right now?”
Her eyes flare, shifting to the edge of the bed in a silent plea.
But there won’t be any fucking here tonight. I’m not going to take her that way for the very first time on the questionable sheets of a three-star hotel. She deserves better. I want her memories of that first of a million times in a place we can both relive it often. My bed comes to mind, but her bed would be just as good.
“Make me come, and I’ll take care of that needy little pussy of yours.”
I push forward, mindful of how deep I thrust but keeping it just to this side of her limits. I don’t want to hurt her, but at the same time I need her to feel me after it’s over. I want her to be reminded of where I’ve been every single time she swallows.
“I’m going to come,” I warn because we spoke about many things, but fluids didn’t make the list. It could easily be a hard limit for her.
I groan in appreciation when she doubles her efforts rather than pulling away.
“Good girl,” I hiss as the tingling sensation I’ve been feeling the entire time congregates at the base of my spine. “Good girl.”
She whimpers with the first rush of my orgasm, her eyes fluttering closed. The second and third bursts are the things dreams are made of but serve to be too much as she pulls back. I don’t stop coming. I fucking can’t, and I watch in awe as her mouth stays open and rope after rope of cum lands on her lips, her chin.
“Jesus,” I hiss, my hand finding my spasming dick to stroke it with a violence I’ve never used before.
I stand there a slave to this woman as she blinks up at me.
When she moves her hand from behind her back to wipe me from her skin, I can’t handle it. Reaching for her, I run my fingers through the mess I’ve made of her pretty face and dip my coated fingers into her mouth. She laps at them greedily, her breathing rushing through flared nostrils when she closes her lips around them to suck.
My cock bobs between my legs, refusing to flag while her mouth is on me, so in an attempt to distract myself, I lean forward licking up the remaining mess before swiping my tongue inside of her mouth. The kiss goes on for eons, her hands gripping my forearms as if I’m the only thing anchoring her to earth.
“Naked,” I insist, breaking my mouth away.
She blinks up at me, still dazed for several long seconds. Reaching down, I unclasp the cuffs on her ankles and take a step back.
“That was filthy,” she whispers, her hands reaching for the hem of her t-shirt. “Tasting your cum like that.”
Her fingers tremble as the fabric clears the perfection of her tits. I barely hold back a groan, but from the salacious look in her eyes I know she sees the affect she has on me. Hell, my cock reaching for her again is probably the only sign she’d need.
“Shorts and panties, too,” I insist. “Completely naked.”
I need to tug my boxers and jeans back up, put some barrier between us if I have any hope of keeping to my personal promise of not fucking her tonight, but her eyes focus on the fabric tangled around my legs.
She won’t ask, but I know what she wants, and it’s the vulnerability in her eyes as she slips her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts that sets me into action.
Keeping my eyes on the slow reveal of her flesh, I begin to kick my shoes off, a nearly impossible task considering my brain doesn’t want to work right now.
She chuckles when I nearly fall over, and somehow that’s perfect too. It’s a way to relieve some of the tension in the room right now, but it’s over quickly when my hand reaches for my cock once again. It’s her turn to feel pleasure, but resisting the urge to stroke as she tosses away the last piece of clothing is inconceivable.
“You’re fucking perfect. Move your hand,” I command when her fingers flutter over the sensual roundness below her belly button. It’s clear she’s a little self-conscious, but that has no place in this room. “God, I want to lick you from head to toe. Every inch of this delectable body.”
She whimpers with need when I inch closer.
“Want my tongue on you, baby? Want my fingers in that greedy pussy of yours again? Need my attention focused on your tight little asshole?”
Anal play turned out to be a soft limit for her, but the thought of her squirming while I touch her there is intoxicating.
“Just your pussy tonight,” I assure her when her eyes widen. “And these fucking tits.”
The peaks of her nipples bud into tight points as my thumbs tease the pebbled flesh. Her breaths are as uneven as mine as I lower my mouth to her. We groan, perfectly in sync when I nip and then suck one into my mouth. Her hips shoot up, back bowing, her entire body begging for contact. My cock jerks at the idea, and I’m desperate for distance.
“Scoot back,” I urge, my mouth still hovering over her flesh.
I remain steady as she situates her body which puts her shiny pussy right at my mouth. I aim for seduction, beg for a little finesse but the scent of her arousal is like steak hanging in front of the salivating mouth of a hungry lion. Just as it would be impossible for that wild animal to resist, I’m no better.
Whitney squeals, hands tangling in my messy hair as my mouth attacks her without warning. Her knees clamp around my ears, and maybe one of these days I’d be all for that type of reaction, but it keeps me from being able to hear her moans and judge her pleasure.
With shaking hands, tongue still swiping, I force her legs apart, holding them there when she makes it clear she can’t control them.
“So fucking sweet,” I tell her in praise, but also because I know she needs to hear when she’s doing something right, even if that’s quivering against my mouth and attempting to rotate her hips. “Gonna eat this pussy for hours.”
“Oh God,” she whimpers, her short fingernails scraping my scalp, leaving behind the most delicious sting. “It’s… I’m going to…”
I know exactly what’s going to happen. Her pussy is literally fluttering against my mouth, threatening detonation by the time the breathy words leave her mouth, and I’m fucking living for it right now.
I want to command her orgasm, use my words to send her over the edge, but the grip she has on my head is otherworldly. So instead, I use my mouth, my tongue, and my teeth to take her there. She doesn’t scream when she comes. The only sounds she makes is a squeak, and I take full responsibility for her inability to shout my name. It’s not that she doesn’t want to; it’s because she can’t. The orgasm is taking too much from her. Her body is only able to focus on the tiny stretch of real estate that’s clenched around my probing tongue.
When her body settles enough and her fingers slide from my hair to flop on the bed in exhaustion, I go for her again. The second orgasm takes mere moments to make her seize all over again, and I only stop myself from forcing a third one from her because she begs me not to.
Chapter 24
Whitney
“I’m too heavy,” I complain, trying to garner the strength to push off of Wren’s chest.
His only response is a low grumble and his arm tightening around my back.
Smiling against his naked chest, I listen to the rhythmic thrum of his heart. He’s wearing boxers, and I’m in his t-shirt, the one he insisted I wear after our shower. Sheets are tangled around our legs because even an hour later, we were both overheated. I’m certain it had more to do with the thorough cleaning we gave each other in the shower rather than the actual temperature in the room.
Simon, my traitorous cat, is curled up on the other side of Wren, purring like he’s the one who rescued him and has been seeing to his every whim for the last six months.
“We need to talk,” rumbles beneath my ear, but Wren, having predicted my flight response, holds me tighter before I can pull away. “You’re fine where you are.”
“I’m not comfort—”
“It’s not going to be a comfortable conversation, but it has to be done. I didn’t chase your terrified ass to a different state to let things just fester. You took off from the wedding. I thought it was because I was moving too fast, that meeting Nana was too so—”
“It wasn’t,” I assure him.
“But then when I got to your apartment and found the door kicked in—”
I freeze, doing my best to concentrate on the way his fingers are teasing the skin on my thigh instead of freaking out now knowing that Jones was after me. I’d managed to almost convince myself that I was overreacting, but his words confirm my worst fears. I was in danger, and my life in St. Louis is over. There’s no way I can return to a city I love with that threat looming over me.
“I need you to go back,” he whispers, lips pressing to the top of my head.
“I can’t,” I argue softly, tears burning my eyes with having him here like this and knowing it can’t last.
“Stephen Jones is a piece of shit, but he’s never going to get the chance to hurt you.”
My head snaps up, the strength of his hold on me not enough any longer.
“What?”
My eyes search his, waiting for the punchline, waiting for something sinister to spew from his mouth, like the terrifying thought that he’s working with Jones to spill from his perfect fucking mouth.
He’s grabbing my hand, pressing my fingers to his lips before I can even deduce that I’m shaking like a leaf.
“Have you heard of Blackbridge Security?” he asks against the tips of my fingers.
I nod because I have, but I’m not exactly familiar with the company. “I have.”
“As you know, I work for Deacon Black. When you went missing, I had to find you. I couldn’t get shit from your computer. Good sweep by the way.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “But I was able to get into your phone.”
I breathe deep through my nose, trying not to overreact with his confession. I bolted from that building, taking only the bare necessities, and even though the feelings are threatening, I can appreciate that I don’t have any right to be angry that he was concerned enough to figure out what was going on.
“He hired me,” I tell him, but from the look on his face, he’s already aware of that fact. “He turned out to be the bad guy.”
“I know. He was inside your apartment nineteen seconds after you left. The thought of—” His eyes dart over my shoulder, and I watch his jaw clench.
I press my palm to his face, an attempt to bring him back to me. “I’m fine. I got away, but I can’t go back.”
Emotion makes my voice crack, and I have to pull my eyes and hands from him.
“I can keep you safe.” I frown, wondering if this is the wrong time to remind him that his work is done from a computer screen. “We, Blackbridge can keep you safe. It’s what the guys do.”
“He was going to kill me,” I whisper, my eyes dropping to the spot where my hands are touching his chest.
“He was,” he agrees without hesitation. “But he won’t get another chance.”
“I can’t—”
“You will,” he says, using the same voice he used earlier to command my mouth to open for his cock, only this time I’m close to using my safeword. This isn’t an instance where I want to be ordered to obey.
“Wren—”
“You will come home. You will be safe. You will let me handle this situation. You will stay with me in the interim while we figure things out. You will be mine, Whitney,” he growls. “I won’t let any-fucking-thing get in the way of that.”
“We don’t even know each other that well,” I argue, focusing on the part about staying with him. Many of my fears circulated around being back in my apartment after the near violation there.
“We have time to figure everything out, to learn every single thing there is to know about each other, but I can’t keep you safe in Des Moines, and I’m not leaving without you.”
“Everything?” I ask, my eyes growing heavy with the surety in his voice.
What makes a man in control so damn sexy to me?
He reads the room like an expert, his fingers trail down my side to tease the flesh just below the hem of his shirt.
“I already know how to make you come on my finger and on my tongue.”
“How about your cock? Do you know how to do that?” I want him inside of me like I want my next breath, but he’s resistant to the idea.
It doesn’t stop his nose from flaring and his eyes darting to my heaving chest, so I know it isn’t going to be a huge problem to get him there. My seduction skills however aren’t very honed. Okay, so maybe they’re nonexistent, hence my need to be controlled.
“You don’t have any damn clue how enticing you are, do you?”
“Am I?” I tease, my nerves thickening my throat and making it hard to swallow.
“Extremely so.” His wandering hand grips the meat of my ass as he drags me against his chest. “Nearly tempting enough to get me inside of you.”
“I think that’s a great idea,” I whimper when his hips flex and I feel the erect length of him against my belly.
With palms pressed against his chest, I look down at him.
His mouth is parted, eyes half-lidded, fingers digging into me in that perfect way that borders on pleasure and pain. My discarded panties are somewhere on the floor, but I don’t think the thin fabric would be enough to catch the flood threatening with the way his eyes are focused on my mouth.
“I want you,” I confess.
“I want you, too.”
A slow smile spreads across my face, but I don’t want to show all of my cards so I dig my teeth into my bottom lip.
“This mouth,” he whispers, his free hand reaching up to pull my lip free. “I’ve never felt something so perfect around me before.”
I almost roll my eyes because my dick-sucking skills are less than desirable. Just ask that asshole in college. But the look in his eyes tells me he isn’t lying. If anything, he’s imagining it there again.
“I loved the way you tasted,” I tell him with a nip to his fingertip when he dips it inside of my mouth. “The way you weren’t afraid to taste yourself on my tongue.”
He groans, his own tongue sneaking out like he’s missing the combination of his salty and my sweetness, something he said was the perfect elixir when he kissed me after making me come on his mouth… twice.
“Did you take lessons in seduction?”
A snorted laugh rushes past my lips before I can stop it, and I have to bury my head in the light dusting of hair between his pecs in embarrassment.
“You’re kidding right?” I ask against his skin.
“I just have to see the color purple now, and I�
��m hard.”
“Bullshit,” I argue. “You have more control than anyone I’ve ever met.”
“I wouldn’t call getting hard sitting on the purple, patent leather booths at Gio’s control, Whitney. Brooks gave me shit for an hour.”
“You didn’t!” Why does his confession, true or not, make him more endearing? Maybe it ties into his ability to command me then his inability to walk sometimes without tripping. The combination makes him absolutely perfect.
“It’s true.” His fingers trace down the side of my face. “I want to know every single fantasy you’ve ever had. I want to be the one to give you everything you need. The one you think about in the morning when you wake. The one you long for all day. And I want to be the man you’re wrapped around every night when you go to sleep.”
“That’s a lot.”
“Too much?”
“No,” I answer truthfully. “Will you fuck me now?”
A slow smile spreads across his face, and my pussy clenches with excitement.
“Not here.” My face falls, and it makes him laugh. “The first time you take my cock, you won’t be in some shitty hotel room worried about some piece of shit back home.”
Take his cock.
God, what is it about his choice of words that makes me desperate for him?
“You’ll come back with me,” he orders.
“I will,” I answer, because even though the threat of death is looming over my head, I feel safe in Wren Nelson’s arms.
Chapter 25
Wren
“Are we having our first fight?” I ask against Whitney’s temple as I hold her to my side, waiting to board the plane back to St. Louis.
“You promised to keep me safe,” she returns, and my smile falls immediately.
“I am,” I promise, moving her along as the line inches forward.
She’s upset because I wouldn’t let her use her fake ID to buy her plane ticket.
Ignacio recovered her real ones when he went to scope out her apartment, and she went white as a ghost when I presented her with them before leaving the hotel room. We need to catch Jones for me to keep my promise, and we can’t do that if he’s following the breadcrumbs she tried to cover on her trip to Iowa.
