Splash

by Kristen Kelly

  “Your rules about your body. My rules about mine.” Shimmying himself down on the bed, he sucked on her inner thigh and coasted his tongue along her leg. Moving higher, he tickled her shaved pubic area with his lips. His thrust forward, slipping his tongue inside her clit for just a few seconds, enough to cover his face in juices.

  “Oh!” She stretched up to meet him.

  His dick was only inches from her face. He yearned to plunge forward. Past those pretty pretty lips. But he wanted her to want him, as much as he wanted her. He wanted her greedy for him. So greedy she would scream if she didn’t have him. The smell of her sweat and lavender shampoo was driving him insane, the hot flesh of her legs burned like ashes. She was so ripe. So ready for him.

  “Please, Turner. Please.”

  He paused. “Are you begging me to stop?”

  “No!” Her breath sped up. “ I need more, Turner. More for god’s sake. How long are you going to tease me?”

  He gave her a little bite, right beside her clit electing a tiny yip from the corner of her mouth. He liked the way she sounded. He liked it a lot. All moist and hot. He wanted her screaming like fucking hell. With two thick digits, he slipped inside her core and rubbed along the sides. She arched again, nearly jumping off the bed. “That’s it, sweetheart. Do you like that?”

  “Oh god, Turner. I’ve wanted you the moment I saw you.”

  “Mmm.” His fingers circled around her bud. Circling. Circling. Coating his fingers in secretions; he sucked two in his mouth. She tasted good. So good, his cock felt like dynamite, ready to explode. He didn’t know if he could take any more of her sounds, her writing body, the searing heat between them.

  He slipped his tongue inside her core, swirling with deep soft suction. Her moans changed pitch.

  Turner rose up on his knees, scrunched his lower body up along her torso until his cock was in position. Not quite touching her.

  Eagerly and without objection, she stretched her neck. The first drops of semen, dropped along her tongue. “Give it to me,” she demanded. “Give it to me now.”

  “What exactly do you want, Val.”

  “I want…”

  “Beg me. I want you to beg.”

  “Please.”

  “Please what, sweetheart?”

  “Please,” she whispered. “ I want your cock inside my mouth. I want to suck you off while you eat my pussy.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hmm. I sure as hell don’t want any misunderstandings later on.”

  Her knees spread out further. “Turner! Lick me. Please.”

  He chuckled. “Atta girl. Now was that so bad? Dirty talk is fun, don’t you think?”

  She huffed at that but then screamed as he went down on her again.

  Spreading his thighs wider, he slid them alongside her head. “You may have me now,” he murmured. The suction was immediate and for a minute he wondered if he would last. But she was new to this. She took a little time to get going on him. Maybe it was his girth. He’d been told he was big but he never had anything to compare himself. To him, he was just normal. Hot. Always hot, but normal. Thousand dollars my fucking a…! “Oh baby. That’s good. Yeah. Right there. Deeper. Take me deeper.”

  He lowered his head and shot his tongue deep inside, his lips suckling the tender flesh while she got a rhythm going below. He licked harder and faster and so did she. He felt her tongue roll around his tip. He grunted and spurred her on, his pleasure rising to incredible heights. Sharp outrageously high—jump-off-the-rooftop heights, until he was sure he would explode. Ah fuck. What the hell is money anyway?

  She drew him in, paused and then a slight gag reflex as she struggled with his size. Her teeth skimmed his cock. Shocking him into pleaser pain sensation. He thrust forward. “More,” he said trying to be gentle.“ Take in more of me.” She did and he went back to pleasuring her sweet clit. Simultaneously, they worshipped each other’s bodies with their lips. They tongues. Their voices raw with uncontrollable lust.

  She drew him in deeper. Harder. The sound of her sweet voice muffled by climax swelled inside his chest. Her body convulsed, throbbed along the bed. A spurt of fresh juice slid along his tongue, the flavor changing.

  Seconds later, he felt his own climax building to epic proportions. Intensification. The crowning point of his erotic bone-melting pleasure.

  He gripped the bed sheets, white knuckled. “Val…”His body tightened. He thrust forward again and again. “Valentina I’m…” He tried to pull back, give her the option of releasing along her belly but she pulled him in quickly, nails digging into his backside. A mumbling of ‘…don’t care.’ She wanted all of him. Every hot steaming drop.

  “Ahhh!” Sweet explosive release traveled down that pretty pretty throat.

  Panting with exhaustion, he collapsed on his back in deep euphoric bliss. Turner switched his body around on the bed. Now they were head to head. He lay on his side, cradled her cheek with one hand, and smiled down at her. He ran a finger down the side of her jaw and traced her bottom lip. Then he kissed her gently. “Do I owe you anything?”

  “I think I owe you,” she said with a breathy voice.

  “I say we go Dutch.”

  “We what?”

  “I think we’re even.”

  After regaining a semi- normal breathing pattern Val said, “Mmmm. That was nice.”

  Chapter 9

  Wearing Turner’s shirt and nothing underneath the next morning, Val stomped around the tiled kitchen floor like she was marching into battle, furious with her ex-husband, the world, her lack of recourses but most of all—furious with herself. Turner had been so sweet, so giving and she couldn’t remember the last time she had this much fun with a man. Who knew sex could be fun? She knew what she had to do and she didn’t like it. Not one little bit but what choice did she have?

  Why the hell did he have to be so nice? So attentive. Like a goddammed god in that huge brass bed. All sexy and dripping with masculinity. Damn! She’d never experienced such orgasms. Best lover she’d ever had. No. Only lover she’d ever had. At least in the real sense of the word. Most men just got their rocks off and left her squirming in the sheets. Most men came on her in minutes. Most men were not Turner Howe. He’d worshipped her body like she was a freaking goddess, never taking pleasure for himself until he gave it up first. Fuck! Why did it have to be the last time in his bed? She could get used to feeling this good. This relaxed. This…satisfied. She hugged herself, thinking of those hot male lips, wet tongue probing her insides like he was drinking every raw exploding atom.

  Turner wasn’t only hot, handsome and rich but he turned out to be more thoughtful than she imagined. Two attractive qualities she’d never found in a man. Not ever. She’d thought men like him only existed in fairy tales.

  Seated on the couch where she’d removed all her clothing, she pointed her toes, pulled on the expensive silk nylons slow and gentle-like. Her thighs ached from keeping them open so long but it was a pleasant ache she was willing to bear. Too bad she’d never feel that way again. She shook her head. Nope. This was something she would not do without any longer. She wanted a man like him some day. Now that she knew they actually existed. She smiled at the thought, resolving her life would never be the same from now on.

  Searching for the red dress, she wished she had jeans to put on instead. The last thing she felt like wearing was a skin-tight evening dress although at the time it had made her feel elegant. Yes, like Cinderella at the ball. The only other time she’d ever felt like that was on her wedding day to her first husband.

  Fifteen years ago, Marcus had been attracted to Valentina’s exquisite raw beauty. On their wedding day, he’d dressed her in fine silk and rare Italian gold, her dress backless with tissue fine lace. At the tender age of seventeen she’d not known what love was nor did she know what was going on until he ripped the dress to shreds when she showed signs of hesitation on their wedding night. Her first time was brutal and harsh. N
o coddling. No kissing. He’d no stomach for a slow sensitive fuck. He simply wanted what was his and took it. She felt shamed and frightened. It had been beyond anything she’d ever expected. He was rough, hopped up on tequila. Afterwards he forced the worm down her throat and then chuckled when she gagged. Then he’d invited his brothers, of which there were three, to have a go at her themselves, the last one destroying what was left of her hand-sewn cathedral length veil when she threw up all over it. She’d never been more humiliated in her life. Marcus was furious when she got sick. He got out a whip, pushed her down on her knees and whipped her until bloody. He would have killed her if not for four of her brothers breaking his door down. His body was never found. Why she was thinking of this on this morning of all mornings, she didn’t know. Perhaps it was to remind herself of where she’d been or to ingrain that she was better off these days. No matter how slight. Swallowing that last drops of red wine she found in a glass, she slipped the dress overhead. She tiptoed back into the bedroom.

  Smiling, she studied the man in deep peaceful slumber. His body all muscle and rumpled hair, one arm draped over her side of the bed. She wanted to join him, slide down under the covers, make him hard and eager for her all over again. She sighed.

  Val watched for sudden movements but he seemed to be out cold, a light whisper coming from his wide supple lips. She smelled his maleness, sensed the firmness of his touch, the taste of salt upon her tongue when he came inside her mouth. She paused, wanting to kiss him one last time. She couldn’t risk waking him however. Her memories would have to suffice.

  It’s now or never. Val tip-toed past the bed to the opposite side of the room. A comb, a new razor still in the box, two silver cuff links, several condoms, assorted change, and a can of shaving cream spread upon an oak vanity. Beside it were Turner’s trousers crumpled on a chair against the wall. She reached inside one pocket and pulled out his wallet. She glanced toward the bed. He still lay there like a babe, oblivious to her thievery. Could she lift the contents without him knowing? Of course she could. Despite the butterflies in her stomach. Despite the fear inside her gut. Despite the fact she really didn’t want to do this in the first place. But she had to. She needed to escape Immigration and to get out of this town fast. The only way to do that was with money. She hadn’t survived this long by playing it safe and definitely not by trusting a man. Turner was still a man, she told herself. Like all the others.

  She’d be mortified if he caught her. Now that was a first. He probably wouldn’t even notice the missing cash. Just a thousand, she told herself. Enough for an airline ticket and some food. She could find work just as soon as she was as far away from Diego as she could get.

  As she unfolded the fawn leather billfold, she gasped. “Holy shit!” she muttered. A soft groan uttered from across the room. She held her breath, her stomach doing flip-flops.

  She stared at the wallet. There was nothing but five hundred dollar bills inside it. No fifties. No twenties. Not even a single, single. Who keeps that kind of cash on them anyway? And out in a strange town. Rich guys. That’s who. He definitely wasn’t a safety boy. She took two bills and then a Visa and a MasterCard. For an emergency, she told herself.

  Another stirring and a rustle of sheets. Val froze, her hands behind her back. Languorously, Turner raised his arms and stretched, the sheet covering his chest sliding. With a loud lion-like yawn, he rubbed his eyes. “You’re up early, Sunshine. What’s it…?” His oblique muscles flexed when he turned on his side to read the alarm. “Six? It’s only six in the morning. Come back to bed.” He winked and pulled the sheet open.”What are you doing?”

  Self-loathing settled in her chest. “Uh, hi. I was just…um…” She grabbed the comb. “Looking for this,” she finished. “We left in such a hurry last night, I left my brush behind.”

  Turner’s face scrunched. “Oh, okay. Let me mess it up again. I promise not to bite this time.”

  Val giggled. One hand hid still tucked behind her, she pulled the comb through her tangled hair, wincing. “I…I didn’t mind.”

  Turner grinned. Too much in the rising throws of lust, he obviously wasn’t catching onto her awkward movements. “Come back to bed, sweetheart. Let’s get to know each other all over again.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. Her toes curled when he looked at her that way.

  He surprised her by vaulting out of bed. “I’ll be right back,” he announced. “ I should freshen up for ya first.” He sprinted a few feet and disappeared behind the bathroom door.

  “Um…yeah. Yeah! No sloppy seconds for me,” she called out. A few seconds later she heard the shower running. “Aw, hell,” she muttered under her breath. She ran from the bedroom, slipped the cash and cards inside her purse ,and skipped eagerly toward the shower. Undressing quickly, she slid back the glass door. “You’re going to need this,” she said, holding up a bar of soap as she stepped inside the tub.

  “Now that’s what I call service,” Turner said. He made to take the soap but Val pulled it away quickly. “Nope. My turn first,” she said, laughing. Lathering her hands, she slid them up and down body. Slowly and sensually, she rubbed at her wet skin, slipping along shoulders, chest and breasts. She pinched and pulled at her breasts. Her nipples grew erect.

  Turner’s eyes dazzled with heat. The irises, corn flower blue took on a hint of navy. Val turned to wash him next, starting first with his firm chest and ending with his cock. The rich aroma of male scent sizzled inside her skull. She’d never teased a man so. It was positively sinful but fun. When he leaned in to kiss her nipples, she tossed her head back, letting the full pressure of water jets pelt along their skin.

  “Mmmm,” Turner moaned. “You are so fucking sexy, Val.” She swooned at his words. Never before had a man told her she was sexy. He definitely needed rewarding. She dropped down, took him quickly in her mouth. The floor was hard on her knees; she felt the honeycomb of the drain.

  His breath caught—masculine and sharp. Excited, she drew the stiff rigid flesh to the back of her warm throat. His dick lengthened in response, encouraging her with his moans. Hard digits burrowed in her head, holding her where he needed her. Endorphins sizzled through her scalp.

  He spread his feet a little and leaned against the wall. Val shuffled forward.

  A soft lazy suck. Occasional squeezes to his backside. “Yeah. Yeah. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

  But she did stop. She had to take a break. Just for a moment though. Breathing heavy, she took hold of his base, swirled her tongue along the head. A salty flavor sizzled there. He jumped and then laughed.

  “Tickles?”

  “A bit.” Gratified, she said, “You like? Because I sure don’t want any misunderstandings,” she teased.

  “I like. I like. Oh baby, I love it.”

  “Good.” She took him inside once again, renewing with deadly action of cheek-numbing sucking and strong vigorous massage. His ass was smooth but his cock was rock hard.

  Turner bucked and clenched—hands braced against the wall—his whole body stiffened like a tree. She worked harder. Faster.

  “Valentina. Valentina. Valentina,” he moaned. And then a buck, buck, buck against her lips. It appeared, he was losing control.

  She was right.

  A dash of shuddering orgasm and then a slow guttural grunt.

  He pulled her to her feet and then took her in his arms, thanking her with a kiss.

  She felt vindicated somehow. It made it easier to rip him off.

  *****

  A phone rang. Turner kissed Val on the cheek, wrapped a towel around his waist, and ran for his cell in the other room. She remembered her purse with the stolen credit cards thrown on the sectional. She hadn’t placed them in her wallet. She simply threw them in there and the purse was wide, easy to see the contents when left open. She didn’t remember closing it. A feeling of dread overcame her. She heard shouts of outrage. He was on the phone, she reminded herself. Nowhere near her purse.

  Taking
a towel to dry herself, she still tingled when it brushed her sex. Where was her climax? She probably didn’t deserved one but still.

  “No! I can’t be there this afternoon,” Turner yelled from the living room. She heard pacing and muttering under his breath. Val groaned. This could defiantly take awhile and she doubted he’d be willing to jump back into bed anytime soon. Wet didn’t begin to explain how insanely turned on she’d become. She sighed disappointedly. Hopeful, she finished drying off and then slipped back in bed. After several long minutes of waiting, she slipped her fingers inside her core. It didn’t take long to bring her to climax but it was nothing short of average. Still, at least it was done. Just like the old days, she told herself.

  She’d almost fallen asleep when Turner came back into the bedroom, red faced with the towel still around his hips, a phone in his left hand. “Hi,” he said with a tight smile. He dropped the towel but he wasn’t fully erect. Not even close. “Waiting for me?”

  “Nope.” Val bolted upright. She threw off the covers, gave him a quick kiss and made to grab her clothes.

  “Sorry, Val. I can be ready in…”

  “No. I’m fine,” she said trying not to sound too perturbed. After all, she wasn’t his girlfriend. He didn’t owe her anything, especially that.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, let’s get dressed. I’m starving actually.”

  “If you say so.” He grabbed the trousers off the chair and plopped down on the side of the bed. He pulled them on. As he hopped to his feet to zip up the pants, he caught her staring with her mouth open. “What’s the matter?”

  “You don’t wear…Um…”

  “I think commando is the order of the day. Don’t you?”

  Val swallowed. Men didn’t wear lingerie or crotch less panties but in her opinion, going without boxers was by far the naughtiest thing a man did.

  He gave her a wolfish smile, letting his pants lay open for several minutes before he tucked everything inside.“There’s that blush again.” It was magic when he smiled at her like that.