The V-Spot

by Wendy S. Marcus

  He stepped closer, positioning his chest mere centimeters from her mouth, tempting her. “I’ll never tell.”

  Turned out those three words were all the incentive Emma needed. She lunged, lapping up that delectable droplet. And she didn’t stop there, no siree. She licked him clean. Sweetness tantalized her taste buds. Brody’s hardened nipple against her tongue and his big, strong arms holding her close to his big, strong body tantalized the rest of her.

  He thrust his hips into the cradle of her pelvis and oh my. “Have you got another surprise for me in there?”

  Large hands grabbed her butt cheeks, holding her steady as he thrust again.

  Since she wasn’t doing anything interesting with her hands, Emma took the opportunity to wrap her arms around Brody’s waist, the first, unassuming stop on her voyage southward to his butt. Immediately upon arrival she squeezed, because why wait? Firm. Nicely rounded.

  “I’ve got a big surprise in there,” Brody said, nuzzling close to her ear. “And I can’t wait to give it to you.”

  Emma loved it when guys whispered in her ear and kissed her neck. So she turned her head to give Brody more room...and caught their reflection in one of the room’s many mirrors. Brody, tall, bronzed and the image of a Sex God, if such a thing existed. Whereas Emma’s image looked more like the before picture in a woman’s weight loss journey or the picture a woman sees of herself in a photo album that makes her scream, “As of this second I am on a diet!”

  And Emma’s insecurities took over. “Maybe we should turn off the lights.” Before Brody caught sight of their mismatched pairing.

  “No.” His lips made a most enjoyable sensual journey down the side of her neck. “I want to see you.” His fingers slid beneath the straps of her negligee, started easing them over her shoulders.

  Emma opened her mouth, intending to yell, “Stop.” But at that precise second he sucked on a most sensitive patch of skin and all she could manage was a moan. He licked the area then moved to the other side to repeat the same process.

  Nice attention to detail.

  Her negligee straps rested at the center of her upper arms, but Emma didn’t care. Because Brody had moved his mouth lower, kissing the tops of her breasts, his lips following the elastic fabric down, moving side to side, giving each one the proper attention.

  The man was a master.

  His chin grazed her right nipple. Pleasure flared, widespread need flooded her system. “You have the most amazing breasts,” Brody said.

  They weren’t amazing—they were big and cumbersome and marred by stretch marks. But none of that mattered when he sucked a nipple into his mouth. Gentle at first, as if gauging how she liked it. “Harder,” she prompted.

  He listened.

  “That feels so good.” And not just where he had his lips on her, but lower between her legs, too. “Don’t stop.”

  He didn’t.

  So what if Emma was partially naked, gripping a man by the ears, guiding his talented mouth where she wanted it, possibly smothering him in breast tissue. Tonight was her twenty-fifth birthday damn it and she was going to celebrate it the way she’d dreamed of celebrating it, wild, wanton and willing to try...almost anything.

  “Lie down,” she told Brody.

  “In a minute.” He tried to ease her negligee down her belly.

  “No.” She grabbed his hands, stopping him. Absolutely not.

  He dropped to his knees, set his cheek to her belly, wrapped his arms around her and hugged. “Please? I want to see all of you.”

  That would ruin everything. “Maybe later.” More like maybe later when pigs fly, aliens inhabit the earth and hell freezes over. “Now on the bed. The birthday girl, that would be me,” she set her fingers to her breastbone, “wants to unwrap her big surprise.”

  Brody smiled then dipped his head. “As you wish.”

  She resisted the urge to bounce up and down on her toes, clap excitedly and perseverate, I wish. I wish. I wish.

  Brody stood, kicked off his shoes then pulled down the red satin comforter to reveal matching red satin sheets. He crawled into the center of the round bed, flipped onto his back and held his arms open in invitation. “C’mere.”

  Emma glanced at the light switch. Now was her chance. But then she wouldn’t get to see Brody naked. And she really, really wanted to see Brody naked.

  While weighing the pros and cons of light off vs light on she removed his socks. Feet aren’t sexy. Or so Emma had thought before she set her eyes on Brody’s. Holy cow! Tanned, well-formed, with ten attractive toes. Yes, even his toes were attractive. Foot model caliber. And so big. She glanced up at the bulge in his slacks. Apparently that foot analogy had some merit.

  Taking into consideration the beauty of Brody’s chest and his back and now his feet, Emma didn’t want to miss out on seeing the rest of him. Decision made. The lights would remain on.

  Emma joined Brody on the bed, lying on her side, snuggled up beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. This position left one hand free for exploration, and explore she did. The firm roundness of his pecs, his hardened nipples, the defining highs and lows of his muscular abdominal wall.

  Then lower.

  He kissed the top of her head.

  She cupped his impressive erection, stroked him up and down over his slacks.

  He let out a breath and lifted his hips into her touch. “I like that.”

  “I like it, too.” So she did it some more.

  Brody spread his legs, giving her better access, but also forcing his thigh between hers, moving all the way up. Upon contact Emma let out a breath, too.

  “Don’t stop.” Brody covered her hand with his and resumed her up-and-down motion. “Move on me.” He shifted his thigh against her. “Do what feels good.”

  Emma did, shifting a little, until she found the right spot. Aaaahhhhh. She rocked against him over and over, rubbed him and kissed the warm skin of his chest. At this moment all was right with Emma’s world. He was handsome and she felt beautiful and they moved in perfect sync.

  Then he guided her chin upward as he leaned down to touch his lips to hers.

  And things got even better.

  The hypnotic thrust of his tongue sliding along hers, the unique taste of him, an aphrodisiac on its own.

  Brody pulled Emma on top of him. She would have protested, but his tongue in her mouth made speech impossible. And since she liked his tongue there she didn’t want to risk dislodging it by talking. Still kissing her, he reached down, grabbed the backs of her thighs and spread her legs so he rested between them. Right where she wanted him, the perfect spot—which he confirmed with a pelvic tilt that felt so good it robbed Emma of breath. Or maybe she needed to stop kissing long enough to inhale some air, a few seconds at most.

  “You’re good at this.” She sounded as though she’d just gotten off a treadmill. Or at least how she thought a person would sound when stepping off a treadmill after a run since she had no firsthand experience.

  He held her butt in place and ground up into her. “I’m even better with no clothes on.”

  Time to get naked! Emma shot up as if launched from a very large slingshot, landing in a straddle across his thighs. She stroked his erection. “I love surprises.”

  With a confident smile he unbuttoned and unzipped.

  Emma waited, eyes locked between the metallic teeth.

  Brody’s hands moved away. “You can unwrap the rest.”

  Heck yeah! Emma lowered the elastic waistband of his black cotton briefs until Brody’s fully engorged shaft stood thick, tall and proud.

  “He’s happy to meet you,” Brody said.

  “Likewise.” Emma took him in her palm, encircling his hot, hard flesh, traveling up, brushing her thumb over the soft, rounded tip before retreating along the same path, ov
er and over again. Brody rose to meet each downward stroke, lifting his hips, faster and faster as he massaged her thighs.

  Emma remembered what Brody had said earlier, while they’d watched a woman giving a man oral sex. I’ve dreamed of you doing that to me. Your mouth would be so hot, so wet. You’d suck me hard, take me deep.

  Planning to do just that, Emma moved. “Open your legs.”

  He did. Emma scooted between them, going down on her belly, inhaling the intoxicating scent of aroused male, tasting him as she swirled her tongue around the broad tip of his erection before sucking him into her mouth and taking him as deep as she could.

  Brody groaned. “God, Emma.” He set his hands on her head. “You have no idea how good that feels.”

  Thrilled by his words she moved her mouth in tandem with her hand, up and down, over and over again, faster, deeper, his essence getting stronger, fueling her desire.

  He guided her head, urging her to take more of him, yet cautious and gentle at the same time. Brody’s moans and groans of pleasure made Emma feel all-powerful like the woman she’d seen downstairs.

  “You are too good at this.”

  She would have taken his words as a compliment had he not said them while lifting her off him. “I’m not done,” she complained. No siree, not done at all. She wanted to make him come, longer and with more force than he’d ever come before. So this night would stand out in his memory, like she knew it would stand out in hers.

  “Give me a minute,” he said, sitting up. “Let me take off my pants.”

  Okay. She sat up. For that she’d give him a minute.

  Brody rolled off the bed, reached into his pocket and threw a few condom packets on the night table beside the bed, then stripped off his slacks and boxers in one quick, efficient motion.

  Emma enjoyed the view, from many different angles thanks to the mirrors. His ass phenomenal, his thighs extraordinary, the man did not have one visible flaw. Rather than dwell on the differences between them, Emma decided to appreciate her good fortune in having him handy and put his beautiful body to good use for the rest of the night. Or until she passed out from exhaustion, whichever came first.

  Brody rejoined her on the bed, crawling forward, pushing her down in the process, not stopping until he had her on her back pinned beneath him.

  “Wait,” Emma said. “I wasn’t done.”

  He kissed her, slowly, his tongue plunging between her lips. “I can taste myself in your mouth.” He kissed her again, deeper and more passionately. As he did, he shifted, settling between her legs, his naked erection gliding along the center of her panties, quite effectively hitting every arousing spot from front to back. Way back.

  Emma stiffened.

  “I think it’s time for the handcuffs,” Brody said, sitting up, pinning her hips to the bed.

  Yes, definitely. “Me, too.” Emma squirmed beneath him, ready to take back control.

  The silver handcuffs appeared in Brody’s hand. “Hands over your head.”

  Uh, what? Emma pushed up onto her elbows. “You lie down and hands over your head,” she said. “Those handcuffs are to restrain you, not me.” Whereas his ego didn’t need any boosting, hers could use some reinforcing. Maybe she couldn’t compete with skinny girls in the looks category, but once she landed a man Emma knew how to please him. And no doubt in her mind, an over-the-top alpha male like Brody would require some immobilizing for what she had in mind. To prove, at least to herself, that she was no charity date, that she could give as good or better than she got.

  The shocked expression on Brody’s face would have been comical if not for the determined one that almost immediately replaced it. “I don’t think so,” he said, taking advantage of her position to shove a pillow beneath her shoulders. Then he reached for her left wrist and locked a cuff around it.

  “Don’t you dare.” Emma tried to pull away but he held her firmly.

  “I saw how you looked at the woman handcuffed to the bed as her partner pleasured her.” Intensity burned in his eyes. Emma couldn’t look away. “You want that. You want me in control.”

  No she didn’t. She wanted to prove...

  “You do,” he said quietly yet confidently. “It’s your birthday. You’re always taking care of others. Tonight let me take care of you.”

  He made a strong argument for submitting and part of Emma jumped on board with the idea, yearning to give him control, to let someone else take charge of the decision-making and the doing, to let someone else take charge of her pleasure for a change. So she could simply lie back and enjoy and take what he offered.

  But then she’d miss her only opportunity...

  He eased her cuffed wrist over her head, never taking his eyes off hers, going slow, giving her ample opportunity to protest or resist. It would have been easier if he’d used his superior strength to force her.

  Tell him no and he’ll stop.

  Her lips refused to form the word.

  All you have to do is pull your arm away.

  Yet she didn’t.

  His words swirled in her head, You want me in control. God help her. Seeing him like this she did want him in control. Tonight let me take care of you. Emma wanted to be taken care of, to be pleasured like the woman they’d seen, to give up control to Brody. But what would he think of her afterward?

  She watched him as he watched her, his features etched with arousal and anticipation and something more. He didn’t look at all repelled by the idea of handcuffing her to the bed. He looked as if he wanted it as much as she did, as if he understood her need, accepted it. And as he anchored the cuff to a hook in the headboard Emma made no move to stop him.

  “Give me your other hand,” he said, his voice deep, just above a whisper. “Show me that you trust me, that you want this.”

  Her left arm felt good stretched high above her head, her left breast surprisingly sensitive. She tested the cuff. It held her in place with a bite of discomfort on her tender skin, a sensation she did not find unpleasant.

  But the fiercely independent control freak inside her would not submit to being restrained without making sure. “If I give you any indication, either verbal or nonverbal that I don’t like something you’re doing, you will stop, immediately.”

  “Of course,” he said, looking and sounding so sincere she believed him.

  Slowly Emma lifted her right arm to join her left. With both of her wrists locked in place she tested the cuffs and hook and found herself quite effectively shackled to the bed. Rather than vulnerable or fearful Emma felt overwhelming excitement as she wondered what he’d do next, and more aroused by the possibilities than she’d ever been before.

  Brody leaned down and set a tender kiss on her lips. “Thank you,” he said, as if she’d given him the greatest gift ever.

  She couldn’t help but smile. “If someone had told me last week that I would someday let Brody ‘The Bull’ Bullock handcuff me to a bed I would have directed them down to the psychiatric floor for evaluation.”

  He smiled, too. “Yet here you are.”

  Her young patients loved him, and children were very good judges of character. But, to be honest, it came down to more than that. Since the start of their date—after the confrontation in the parking lot—he’d been kind and thoughtful. He’d treated her with respect and care. He’d protected her and made her feel special. “You’re different than I thought you’d be.”

  He leaned over her. “Glad you finally took the time to give me a chance?”

  She smiled. “Yeah.” Very glad.

  Emma thought he might kiss her then, the perfect follow-up to their sincere exchange. Instead he rolled off the bed, turned down the air conditioner and left the room.

  She couldn’t help it, an uncomfortable apprehension settled over her. Was he leaving? Would she be stuck here for hours
, maybe days until someone discovered her? Starved and dehydrated? Or had he ordered other sex toys from Angie’s illicit catalog? Things he wouldn’t dare reveal until he had her incapacitated and at his mercy? “What are you doing?” she called after him, lifting her head, straining to see, unable to keep the nervousness out of her voice.

  “Give me a minute.”

  Give him a minute? To do what? Use the restroom? Drink a beer? Eat a quick snack? Unwrap a whip? Load batteries into a scary-huge vibrator? Assemble some type of bondage apparatus? What could possibly be so important that he’d abandon her? Mid-thought she noticed her reflection in the ceiling mirror—boobs out, pretty negligee half off, pale legs—in sharp contrast to the blood-red sheet—spread wide, hair a mess, arms bound above her head.

  She looked like a woman ready for anything. She smiled at the realization she actually felt ready for anything. Bring it on.

  “What are you smiling about?”

  She jumped at the sound of Brody’s voice. “Oh, nothing.” Emma dragged her gaze from the mirror to Brody, gloriously naked and not one bit self-conscious about it, carrying a bunch of candles.

  “Liar.” He smiled, too. “You like being handcuffed to my bed.”

  Maybe a little. Or a lot. But she’d never tell. “Technically I’m handcuffed to my bed.”

  “An inconsequential detail,” he said, moving around the room, placing small white candles on the dresser, table and nightstands before returning to light each one.

  Curse her out-of-control imagination. While she’d been conjuring up images of him, in the other room, putting together some type of deviant torture device, he’d been gathering up the candles he’d brought for ambience, to set a romantic mood, the sweetheart.

  He dimmed the lights and returned to the bed, fumbling around for something in the pile of comforter by her feet. Finding what he sought he held up the massage oil. “Ready for your presents?”