Beauty and the Brute

by Nikki Winter

  His hands stroked a path from her shoulders to her waist, resting at her hips. Alana sucked in a hard breath when his fingertips slipped beneath the band of her borrowed sweats and boxers, tickling the flesh they came into contact with. He brushed his mouth against the underside of her chin, humming as her head tilted backwards. Noel found the pulse of her throat and swirled his tongue there with such a slow delicious fervor that she grasped his forearms.

  “Noel…”

  He palmed both halves of her ass and squeezed with just enough pressure that his nails bit slightly into her skin, leaving Alana’s nipples to turn into diamonds. The snip of pain excited her and when she squeaked, he pulled back a fraction, eyes half-lidded. That look was…piercing.

  “Let me have my way,” he said again, lifting her suddenly and placing her atop of the dresser. Noel stepped between her thighs and yanked her forward so their sexes met in a jolt that made her pussy moisten in anticipation. Taking her left knee in hand, he lifted it high onto his hip and leaned her backwards just so.

  Alana balled her hands in his t-shirt, trying to fight the haze of lust steadily killing off rationale but he dug his way through her hair and freed it, fisting the strands in one large hand to gently tug her head back while he flitted his lips over hers, pulling away when she tried to capture his mouth fully.

  “Let me have my way,” Noel demanded for a third time, pulling down the sweats. He feathered his touch on the insides of her thighs while the bristles of his jaw moved over her cheek. His thumb parted her puffy nether lips and skimmed over her blood filled clit, circling until she rolled her hips in time with his movements. It was such a simple touch but he wouldn’t release her stare. He never released her stare. That deepened every sensation, every brush of his fingertips.

  “Pull the shirt off.”

  The low growl against her mouth wasn’t a request. There was a warning in his tone that she abided by as she took the tee by the hem and jerked it up and over her head. His eyes lit and she felt an answering quiver below. Pinning her opposite knee to the furniture, he rewarded her compliance with a quick flick of his thumb on her clit.

  Air hissed between her teeth and a wicked grin was all she received in return. “Watch me,” he breathed, finally allowing her reprieve from his gaze.

  Alana’s eyes drifted down his torso, catching sight of his hands as they untied the drawstring keeping up his shorts and they dropped a fraction, catching on his thighs while shielding half of his stiffened cock from view. Her breath stilted, picking up as he shoved the fabric further down and his member reared up before it slapped against his thigh, brought down by its own thick weight.

  The lights played over the angry red helmet, the moisture that rested at the tip. She licked her lips unconsciously, realizing that despite his demands for her to pay close attention to his hands, Noel’s glare was still focused solely on her expression. It was the noise rumbling from his chest that gave him away and Alana choked down a whimper, hypnotized by the play of sinew in his forearm when he grasped himself and stroked from root to tip; his short clean cut digits gripping in a lazy glide. Her clit twitched.

  “I don’t think I know what self-control means when it concerns you, darlin’,” Noel told her in a low rasp. “You’ve made the loss of it intoxicating.” Stroke. “To listen to your voice hitch.” Glide. “To see your eyes gloss over.” Stroke. “To know you’re wet right now from simply anticipating how hard I’m going to fuck you when the brute finally claws his way out.” Glide. “And you need me to fuck you, don’t you?”

  Alana’s head bobbed drunkenly in agreement. She did. A sweltering had started between her shoulder blades, spreading steadily down and branching out until every tug of his hand against his member resulted in the clench of her vulva, grabbing at air; at the phantom sensation of his length drumming at her mental health.

  Noel came forward, not too close, just out of reach. He ground the head of his cock against the rigid nubbin resting over her slit and that previously lost whimper rose again, pushing until it escaped. His strokes and glides deepened. She wanted to touch him but knew he’d deny her for no other reason than to prove a point.

  “You need me to fuck you because you belong where, Alana?”

  Her throat worked in tandem with her hips, reaching for what was at her proverbial fingertips. Just a little closer…

  “Where do you belong, sugar?”

  Fuck.

  “Say it,” he commanded, his lip curled, that unnatural fire in his irises again. “Say. It.”

  Alana shook. “Your cock.”

  “Can’t hear you, darlin’. Could you repeat that?”

  Son of a bitch…

  She looked away, if only for a moment, knowing he wanted eye contact. Louder this time, she said, “I belong on your cock, Noel.”

  Something savage rose in his expression. He snatched open a drawer, seemingly unable to care that most of the contents went tumbling out as he rooted around and came away with a condom.

  Thank God he had the sense because…

  The foil packet went flying and in the blink of an eye, Noel was tunneling unforgivingly into her. Every pop of his hips gave way to another inch, another moan from Alana. He reseated her thigh on his hip and wrapped his opposite arm around her, snarling, “Lean back, I want to watch your tits bounce.”

  Alana complied, allowing her shoulders to rest against the wall. It gave her an angle of the mirror and she groaned when she caught the reflection of Noel’s shorts halfway down, his tight ass flexing in time with his thrusts. That combined with the way he powered into her, following her undulating effortlessly, made her next keen louder than it should have been.

  He placed a kiss between her breasts and warned in a sotto voice, “Gotta keep quiet, baby. Unless of course you want Ashleigh to hear.”

  Her pussy clamped down at the suggestion and his head lifted. Alana’s face heated at his look and he gave a grating chuckle. “Why, sugar, you wouldn’t happen to like that thought would you?”

  She shook her head rapidly, getting lost in his digging thrusts.

  “Yes you do,” he argued. “You want him to hear. You want him to know how hard I make you come.”

  “Oh…”

  “You want him to know how hungry you are for my dick.”

  “God…”

  He angled until they were chest to chest, sucking in each other’s oxygen. Noel’s movements turned harsher. Hooking his arm beneath the thigh on his hip, he bent it back towards her chest and managed to swallow Alana’s shout when he tapped a heavenly spot within that made stars burst in front of her eyes. She felt terribly exposed spread out for him but the harder he fucked her, the less she thought about it.

  “That’s right,” he crooned in a dark whisper. “This is exactly where you belong.” He nipped he bottom rim of her mouth, fluttered his tongue over her parted lips and then delved inside.

  Noel twisted and pushed against her so roughly that she cried out into his mouth, delirious from the pleasurable shove. All it took to send her over the edge was him scraping his teeth beneath her chin and ordering that she do so.

  Alana knew the moment the orgasm broke and swept her up that she wouldn’t be able to compartmentalize this. That she couldn’t outrun it. Because as he’d told her nights ago, “There’re some things a body can’t explain. I want what I want.”

  She was in sooo much goddamn trouble. And she totally blamed that voice!

  Nine

  There was an awareness that occurred with having someone else reside in your space. Noel had come to know the pattern of Alana’s gentle steps on his floors, whether carpeted or hardwood. He could feel it the moment she opened her eyes in the morning, could hear her breathing change when she realized where she was—his bed. He loved that moment. Loved to watch her lashes butterfly before an annoyed expression turned down her lips at the realization that he’d kicked the comforter off the mattress. And then her gaze would land on him, lingering. For a few minutes, she’d
watch him unguarded, completely oblivious to the fact that he was doing the same. This was the only time that he got a glimpse as to what was just beneath her wit and teasing. He got a glimpse as to what she was thinking.

  As quickly as it came, it disappeared once he revealed that he was awake. From there she’d grumble about his trying to freeze her to death and he’d taunt her about her inability to stay on her side of the bed. That would go on until he kissed her quiet. It was a ritual he’d come to enjoy. Probably too much. But on nights like this, when he could glance at her from the opposite side of his office and breathe in her presence, Noel knew he couldn’t find a reasonable explanation for his unwillingness to commit to one woman all of these years. Not when he knew the only answer was that he hadn’t met her, he hadn’t fully experienced her. The way her face reddened when he called her beautiful. How she shoved away from him in irritation when she was feeling cranky and he mocked her complaints. The wrap of her arms about his waist and the press of her cheek onto his back. These sensations couldn’t be cloned or reimagined with another. And that was…strange. No one—no woman—had ever been seen as irreplaceable to him; not even those he had an affinity for emotionally. But Alana, Alana was different.

  “You’re staring,” she hummed, tapping away on her MacBook as she ran through performance reports for Nyssa. “Stop staring.”

  Noel tossed down his playbook and sat back. “Nawl.”

  Her lips twitched as they always did when he drawled that word. “I’m trying to focus. Can’t focus if you’re eye-fucking me, squidbilly.”

  He leered at her. “I’d be more than happy to get hands and other extremities involved, sugar.”

  “Keep your other extremities to yourself, sir. I have work to do.”

  “That you’ve been at for hours,” Noel told her, standing to stretch. “Take a break.”

  “Nawl,” she said, imitating his tone perfectly.

  “Wasn’t a request, darlin’.” He ambled around his desk and approached the plush love seat she was stretched out on, long legs hanging over the side as she reclined. She’d stolen a cut-off sweatshirt that stopped a few inches above her navel with the Blackbirds logo on it, pairing it with lounge pants and fluffy socks. Her bangs had been pushed back with a thick headband, bringing her bright eyes further into focus without being obscured by the full locks that typically hung in her now makeup free face. Scrubbed clean her skin had an underlying glow of yellow tones and her lips—which she had the habit of biting raw—were flushed red. She looked completely fuckable. It was distracting.

  Alana glanced up. “Do you know what a Ramen noodle diet feels like, country?”

  He tilted his head. “I’m a man. Of course I know what a Ramen noodle diet feels like.”

  “Is that what you want for me? A poor lack of fatty omega acids, proteins and vitamin D because I didn’t do my job and I was fired?”

  Noel snorted. “Nyssa would fire Sansone before she fired you.” He clapped his hands. “Now up, woman. You and I are going to do something we haven’t as of yet.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Does it involve getting matching tattoos of Macho Man Randy Savage?”

  He blinked slowly. “I don’t even want to know why you’d ask that.”

  “It was a suggestion once upon a time by this guy...”

  “Let’s not venture down this road.”

  “It wasn’t the worst suggestion. Just an odd one…”

  “Alana,” Noel said in warning.

  She tucked in her lips. “I’m not going to get my way on this, am I?”

  Putting out a hand, he wiggled his fingers. “Nawl.”

  The most put upon sigh left her as she closed her computer and allowed him to pull her up from the seat. “What is the grand scheme for relaxation that you’ve concocted? Are we tipping cows? Sitting in rocking chairs on your porch to talk about the good old days when you could get a bale of hay for thirty cents on the dollar? Taking down a buck with a nickel and a slingshot?”

  Noel gave her what he hoped was an indulgent look despite his desire to laugh. “Done?”

  Alana rocked back a little and nodded. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

  “Good.” He yanked her forward, catching her as she thumped into his chest. “You and I are going to dance.”

  Her brows furrowed. “Disco or…?”

  “No you, eejit,” he retorted, rolling his eyes. Lord, the things this woman said. Out loud, Noel called. “Music on.” His voice operated sound system jingled.

  “Fancy,” she teased.

  “Quiet you.” He waited until the machine asked what he’d like to hear before he replied, “Sheet fisting playlist, track five.”

  Alana jerked in his arms and when he looked down, he saw her head bowed as her shoulders shook.

  “Something funny?”

  She raised her eyes. “Do you really have to ask?!”

  Noel sniffed. “My playlist names are my business, madam. I’d appreciate it if you kept your wayward opinions to yourself.”

  Her forehead rested against his chest. “You have to know how hard that is.”

  “Well try,” he muttered as the music began.

  Alana’s head lifted again at the time that “Beneath Your Beautiful” poured out of the multiple speakers. Their gazes locked and she was the first to break the staring when Noel started to slowly sway, bringing her closer.

  Clearing her throat, she told him softly, “Strangely, this is the last thing I expected to hear.”

  “Which is the entire point,” he responded. Noel’s palms connected with the dip in her spine and he rested his chin atop her hair, running his hands over her skin. “I happen to enjoy catching you off guard.”

  “And why is that?” Alana murmured against his throat. Her fingers danced beneath the hem of his t-shirt.

  He pulled back a fraction to look at her. “Because then I know I’m doing things right. Then I know I’m not as monotonous and predictable as everyone else you’ve been with. Then I know I’m not being compared to others, judged because of things they did or said. My impression is unique, like fingerprints.”

  Her eyes darted away. “Not a concern you should have.”

  Noel tipped her chin up. “No?”

  Shaking her head, she retorted, “I don’t think your mold was duplicated, Noel.” The confession couldn’t even be considered a whisper it was said so quietly.

  You kissed a woman when she told you something like that. You kissed her not because of her willingness to stroke your ego or the fact that she seemed so sincere. You did it because you knew how scary that had to be to admit. Because you knew how goddamn fearless she had to make herself in that moment to peel back a layer of pride and say things that she’d rather think while thinking things she’d rather say. So Noel did. He took his hands away from the rise of her ass and brought them to either side of her face.

  When her lashes fanned upwards, he angled his head and pressed his mouth to hers. It was tender insistence that got her lips to part under his. Alana’s fingers wrapped about his wrists and squeezed. Noel deepened the kiss, curving his tongue over hers until she pressed fully against him and a moan rumbled from her. He tangled a hand in her hair and moved over her throat. Every gasp was drank in, every whimpered plea.

  Her pulse beat against his tongue and as it picked up in speed, he got loose of her light hold to grab her by the thighs and lift her. Alana’s ankles locked at the small of his back and he shuffled toward the loveseat, shoving things out of his way so he could plop down with her straddling his him.

  “Clothes on or off?” he questioned beneath the shell of her ear.

  She shuddered, fisting his t-shirt. “On.”

  Noel groaned and flexed his hands on her hips. He’d come to learn that Alana liked options. Naked skin, the abrasion of fabric or the occasional pinning against whatever piece of furniture he chose. Seemed that fabric was her kink tonight. Pushing up the sweatshirt, he cupped her breasts and ran his thumbs just around her nipples, c
areful to avoid the tight tips begging for his mouth. She pushed out and he growled, “Ask.”

  “In your mouth,” Alana panted.

  “That didn’t sound like you asking, sugar.”

  She gritted out, “In your mouth…please.”

  Chuckling, Noel pushed his shoulders back into the small sofa and scooted his hips towards the edge until their groins were aligned. He forced her down into a grind with one hand on her shoulder while angling her forward. Her nipples hovered over his lips. “Suck or bite?”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  He smirked. “Liar. Suck or bite?”

  “Both.”

  Alana jolted when he grasped one bud between his teeth and tugged, lashing it with flicks of his tongue. He nails trailed across his scalp and he pulled a fraction harder, smiling at her sharp intake of air. Nipping the side, he marked the full globe and moved on. She squirmed and mewled when he repeated the process. Suck. Nip. Bite. Suck. Nip. Bite. Alana took hold of his hair and pulled his head back before taking his mouth. She sighed and he had to be careful not to crush her when his arms constricted.

  Jerking back, Noel took her hand away and shoved it down the front of her loungers. “Show me.” He hooked onto the waistband and held it while her fingers retreated between the lips of her pussy, her clit stiff and glistening. He knew the moment her digits had pushed past the resistance of muscle because her mouth parted and her eyes blazed. “Ride your hand.”

  The dark request was met with a shudder and he watched her rock on top of him, her hips undulating with greed. “Feels…so good.”

  He kissed her hard, swallowing her moans. Keepings his eyes on her movements, Noel used his opposite hand to undo the buttons on his pajama pants. He then allowed his cock to bounce free and commanded, “Give me some.”

  Alana’s teeth clamped down on her bottom lip. She pulled her fingers from her core and curled them around his length, stroking him with the wetness she’d produced. Her lips found his jaw, his chin, and his clavicle as she pleasured him.