1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Nine

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  “I’m even better at this,” I say, taking her lack of protest as implied permission. Drawing her panties to one side with my thumb, I slide two fingers inside her.

  “Oh God,” she says, eyes fluttering closed as I push in to the first knuckle.

  Fuck, she feels amazing. She’s wet, hot, and clearly aroused, but she’s also insanely tight, so tight that the thought of being inside her makes my head explode a little. It’s going to be incredible, so incredible I don’t want to wait. But I will. A pussy this tight is going to need some warming up before it’s ready for what I’m packing below the belt. No matter how irritated I was with Penny last night, the last thing I want to do is cause her any real pain.

  When we’re in bed together, the only pain she’ll experience will come from delayed satisfaction, from pleasure so intense it’s just this side of unbearable.

  “I hardly slept last night,” I say, capturing her lips for a kiss as I continue to fuck her with my hand. “All I could think about was getting you wet and under me.”

  “I dreamed about you all night.” Her hands slide down my back, caressing me through my shirt. “About your hands and your mouth.”

  “Was my mouth doing anything like this?” I bring my attention to her breast, using my teeth to pull the spandex of her dress and the bra beneath down, baring one dusty pink nipple. I hum my appreciation for its beauty, its hardness, its sweetly puckered tip, before taking her into my mouth.

  “Yes.” Penny gasps as I begin to suckle her with deep rhythmic pulls as my fingers mimic the tempo between her legs and my thumb glides back and forth across her clit. “Oh yes, you were. Oh my God, Bash. Oh my God!”

  I would smile against her breast, but that would interfere with my suction and clearly it’s doing the job. She’s no longer stiff or shy beneath me. She’s bucking into my hand, clawing at my shoulders, writhing on the bunk until just as the train lurches into motion and the whistle goes off so does Penny.

  “Yes!” She cries out as her pussy throbs around my fingers, her wetness flowing out to coat the back of my hand. “Oh God, yes. Yes!”

  Yes, indeed. Fuck me, she’s so hot like this, out of her head with lust and singing my praises loud enough that there’s little doubt our neighbors have a good idea of what’s going on in our car. My cock is hard enough to pack gunpowder and my balls are aching like I’ve been sucker-punched, but I’m not ready to put an end to my suffering yet, not until I’ve made her go again.

  A minute later, I’ve got Penny’s dress shoved up around her hips and her panties pulled down to dangle around one ankle. I hitch one of her legs over my shoulder as I shift onto the floor beside the bunk. And there, from my knees, an appropriately worshipful position, I bear witness to the sweetest pussy I’ve ever seen. The dark pink lips of her sex are swollen with desire, plump petals that provide a lightly curled frame for the well of wetness between them. And above her pussy, her clit stands at attention, a pretty pink button just begging for me to lick, tease, suck, bite. To do all those wicked things I do so well because I fucking love to eat pussy.

  I do. I love it.

  Some men don’t, I hear.

  I don’t understand these men. They are alien to me in the same way people who think ice cream is gross or people who don’t exercise because they don’t like to sweat are alien. Ice cream is godly, a hard sweat is the only thing that comes close to a hard fuck in terms of pure bliss-level, and eating pussy is a little piece of heaven. A sweet, salty, slick, scrumptious slice of heaven, and I can already tell Penny is going to be off-the-charts delicious.

  “Bash,” she whispers, shuddering lightly beneath my palms. “Is everything okay?”

  “Everything is perfect,” I say, not moving my gaze from the paradise between her legs. “Better than perfect. I’m just having a moment with your beautiful pussy. I think I’m in love with her. She’s…stunning.”

  Her breath rushes out. “The look on your face right now might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “Not for long.” I glance up at her, holding her gaze as I spread her thighs wider, bringing my mouth close enough for her to feel my breath warming her aroused flesh, and inhale. Immediately her scent makes my mouth water. It’s light and fruity, like mango slices sprinkled with salt, with an undercurrent of waterfall rushing over slick rocks and exotic flowers blooming in an undiscovered corner of an ancient rainforest.

  Yes, I get that precise when describing the way a woman smells. I am a connoisseur of poose, and I can detect the top, heart, and base notes of a particular pussy in ten seconds flat.

  “I love this,” I tell Penny, inhaling again, watching her eyes darken and her breath speed as she waits for me to touch her with something more than my breath. “I love smelling you. You smell so good it’s all I can do not to take you right now. To drive my cock deep into this beautiful pussy.” I exhale, cock throbbing behind my fly as she moans softly in response. “But I won’t. Do you know why?”

  She shakes her head, clearly already beyond words.

  “Because the only thing better than smelling you,” I say, mouth moving closer to the needy place between her legs, “is tasting you.” My tongue sweeps out, tracing the seam of her from pussy to clit, confirming her taste is every bit as heavenly as the rest of her.

  Penny’s head falls back with a gasp of pleasure, and I set to work at the best job in the world—making a woman come until she’s boneless, senseless, helpless to do anything but writhe beneath my mouth and beg me to fuck her.

  Deliberately avoiding her clit after that initial sweep, I set to sucking the swollen flesh surrounding her entrance, drawing on the slippery skin with pulsing suction, summoning more blood to the surface, making Penny squirm and moan. I wait until her breath is coming in swift, ragged pants and her nails are raking across the thick gray blanket beneath her before I finally plunge my tongue inside her.

  She shudders as I drive deep, coating my tongue with her incredible taste before pulling out and plunging back in. I wrap my hands around the back of her thighs, hook them around her hips, and go to town, using the leverage of my grip to pull her into more intimate contact. I ram into her again and again, fucking her with my tongue until my chin is dripping with her wetness and Penny is making moaning, whimpering, on-the-verge-of-coming sounds, and then and only then, when I know she’s primed for the flight, do I transfer my mouth to the top of her and suck her clit like it’s the last sliver of ice on a boiling hot summer’s day.

  Almost instantly, Penny screams my name—screams it, just like I promised that she would—and launches into orbit.

  Her hands shoot down to tangle in my hair, pulling my face tight to her pussy as she grinds against me, riding out her orgasm with an abandon that slays me. I’ve caught glimpses of her sensual side before, but now the raw, carnal, hungry part of her is taking center stage and it’s sexy as hell. So sexy all I can think about is getting my painfully hard dick buried inside her and making her go all over again.

  “Are you ready for more?” I ask breathlessly.

  “Yes,” she pants. “Oh God, yes. Please tell me you brought a condom.”

  “Does the Tin Man have a metal cock?” I reach for my briefcase and the condom in the side pocket, cursing myself for not making time to buy more on the way to the train. This morning, one condom for the train ride had seemed like enough, but now I know it’s not even close. I can already tell that having Penny once is only going to make me want her more. I’ll be hard again in ten minutes.

  So I’d better make this first time last.

  Already planning all the ways I’m going to torture us both before we’re allowed to get off, I rip open the foil packet. What I see inside hits me like a punch in the gut.

  “Fuck,” I curse, holding the condom up to the light streaming through the window beside the bed, proving the tear is even bigger than I initially realized. “The condom’s ripped.”

  “Get another,” Penny says, fingers curling around the top of my pants.<
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  “I can’t. This is the only one.”

  “No, way.” Penny bolts into a seated position, tugging the neck of her dress up to cover her breast. “You can’t be serious, Bash. This is the saddest thing that’s ever happened!”

  Inclined to agree with her, but trying to be strong, I stand, running a determined hand through my hair and tucking my shirt back into my pants. “Don’t worry. I’ll go check the dining car. Sometimes they have toiletries for sale behind the cashier’s desk.” I lean down, pressing my lips to hers, moaning as the taste of her kiss and her pussy mingle in my mouth.

  “Hold that thought, beautiful. I’ll be back before you can get those panties on so don’t even try.” I turn and bolt out the door, worried that if I look back at her, I won’t be able to resist pushing her onto the bed and making her come on my mouth all over again.

  Out in the hallway, Patrice is nowhere to be found, which is probably good because I’m not sure I have the self-control to refrain from offering her a one hundred dollar tip in exchange for begging, borrowing, or stealing me a condom. I hurry down the deserted hallway and through the door leading into the dining car. On my way to the cashier, I casually grab a napkin from the dispenser on an empty table and wipe my face. I’m inclined to enjoy pussy on my face for a few minutes after the main event, but considering my mission, it’s probably best if my chin isn’t glistening.

  I spot what looks like a full arsenal of personal products behind the counter and my whip-tense muscles begin to relax. But when I ask the doughy-faced cashier for a box of condoms, he informs me that they’re out.

  “Out,” I echo, my dick insisting my ears must have heard incorrectly.

  “Yep,” the man says, looking at something on his computer screen. “We should have some more in by Friday.”

  Shooting him a look that I hope makes it clear how little fucking good a condom on fucking Friday is going to fucking do me, I thank him and start toward the bar at the back of the train. By the time I make my way through twenty-five cars of squalling children, bickering old people playing cards across the aisle, and an entire car of overgrown frat boys on their way to a bachelor party, I’ve lost what’s left of my sense of humor.

  Hearing the bartender inform me that they don’t carry condoms, but that I “should try the dining car,” is enough to make me want to put my fist through the nearest wall.

  “You sell liquor, which loosens inhibitions,” I force out through a tight jaw. “Shouldn’t you, in good conscience, also sell condoms?”

  The man shrugs. “We didn’t have sleeping cars with private rooms until a few months ago. It wasn’t much of a problem before.”

  “But now it’s an epidemic,” the man’s female counterpart offers as she refills the ice bucket, her upturned nose wrinkling until I can see far more than I would like of her nostrils. “Think about that, man. Think about a dozen nasty strangers doing exactly what you’re trying to do on that same bunk. If that doesn’t kill the mood, I don’t know what will.”

  With a grimace her way—I don’t care if a hundred nasty strangers fucked on that bunk, I still want to be balls deep in Penny on it more than I want to draw my next breath—I turn and make my way back to our private car. I arrive to find Penny’s panties no longer around her ankle and the woman herself tipping back a half empty glass of champagne.

  She hiccups as she lifts a tortured gaze to mine. “Nothing, right? I figured you’d struck out or it wouldn’t have taken so long.”

  Miserably, I nod, too distraught to form words just yet.

  With a commiserating wince, she takes a second glass of champagne from the small table set into the arm of her chair and holds it out toward me. “Here, take this. It might not drown your sorrows, but it dulls the pain. A little.”

  I sit down hard in the chair across from her and lean in, taking the champagne as I assure her, “As soon as we get to Southampton, I’m buying all the condoms. All of them.”

  “Every single one,” she echoes.

  “Every fucking condom in town.”

  She nods seriously, her eyes sparkling as she adds, “And if that’s not enough, we’ll drive over to the next village and buy all the condoms there.”

  “Hell, yes, we will,” I say, grinning in spite of myself. “Because I need to fuck you Penny. I need it like I need air. I need it as soon as physically possible.”

  “Me too.” Her smile fades as she glances toward the door. “But I’m not sure I’m going to be able to face anyone else riding in this car. I’m going to have to wait until they get off and scurry out with my head hidden under my scarf.”

  “Why’s that?” I ask, sipping my champagne.

  Her lips pucker. “I was busy having an out of body experience so I don’t quite remember, but considering how raw my throat feels, I’m pretty sure I screamed. Didn’t I?”

  I don’t even try to keep the smug, or the wicked, from my grin. “Like you were on fire,” I confirm.

  And if I have my way, it won’t be long before she’s screaming again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The train pulls to a stop in Southampton a little after two o’clock in the afternoon. Having convinced Penny that getting condoms ASAP is more important than her shame over being overhead mid-orgasm, I hurry her out of the sleeping car ahead of the rest of the passengers, settle her at the edge of the platform with our bags at her feet, and promise to be back with provisions so fast she’ll never know I was gone.

  I’m already jogging away, headed for the mom and pop shop across the street, praying to all the gods in the known universe that they’ll have a box of condoms for sale when a male voice calls out Penny’s name.

  I turn to see a man about my age with a five hundred dollar haircut wearing a lobster print button down shirt lift a hand to Penny. “Hey! I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

  One look at Penny’s expression and I immediately reverse direction.

  Her eyes are saucer-sized, her lips are working their way into a horrified “O”, and her already pale skin has gone alabaster white. Though arsenic white might be a better description. Alabaster is too pretty a word for the deathly absence of color stealing across Penny’s features. She resembles a vampire caught out in the daylight, seconds from exploding into flames, and is clearly in need of an immediate intervention.

  “What are you doing here?” the man asks with an uncomfortable laugh as he starts across the platform toward her. “Anastasia said you weren’t due in until tomorrow afternoon.”

  Penny’s mouth opens and closes like a very beautiful, very pale fish, but no words come out. She looks like she’s about seconds from fainting at Lobster Shirt Guy’s feet.

  I jog faster, determined to reach her before she collapses.

  No matter what was causing her distress, I would have run to her rescue, but it’s especially important right now. I didn’t have a chance to do my usual background check on the ex I’ve come to torture, but there’s no doubt in my mind that this douche canoe is Phillip. This human skid mark with the feathered haircut, offensively preppy clothes, and pitying expression on his admittedly handsome-as-shit face is the person who broke Penny.

  I hate him on sight.

  Which makes it a pure pleasure to wrap my arm around Penny’s waist and draw her close, pressing a kiss her cheek. “Sorry, sweets. The station shop didn’t have anything that would be good for a migraine. Let’s get you to the cottage to lie down and I’ll run out and get whatever you need.”

  “Oh, it’s okay, I can make it to the cottage.” Her hand fists in the back of my shirt and holds on for dear life.

  She’s trembling and all I want to do is sweep her into my arms and carry her as far away from this Shitlord as possible, but she’s not here to run. She’s here to face her demons. It’s just bad luck that this one squirmed out of the woodwork while her guard was down.

  “I just hate to see you in pain.” I cup her face in my hand, meeting her panicked gaze, willing her to see that she doesn�
��t have to be afraid. I’m here and I’ll stay glued to her side until she’s strong enough to tell Phillip to go straight to hell and rot there. “I’d take the migraine for you if I could.”

  “I know you would.” Gratitude and affection fill her eyes as she brings a palm to rest on my chest. “But I’ll be fine.”

  She takes a breath, her lips curving in a clearly forced smile as she motions toward the human spunk bubble. “Bash, meet Phillip Davies, the groom. Phillip, this is Bash Prince.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t see you there. Nice to meet you, Phillip.” I turn my head, fighting to keep my contempt for this fucker from showing on my face.

  If he sees that I’m angry, then he’ll assume Penny has told me about his betrayal. Furthermore, he’ll assume that she was sufficiently damaged by the things he did to her to get her new lover pissed at her old lover, and I refuse to give him that power or satisfaction.

  For the purposes of our work here this week, Penny mentioned the story of her ex-boyfriend hooking up with her mother in passing during one of those “my family is weirder than your family” conversations. We discussed it briefly and moved on. It was barely a blip on our relationship radar and had completely left my mind until Penny asked me to be her date to this wedding.

  And as for Penny, I make her so happy she doesn’t have any room in her heart to hold on to bullshit from the past.

  “Nice to meet you, too,” Phillip says, a calculating look in his eyes as he shifts his gaze from me to Penny and back again. “Glad you’re here. Penny didn’t mention that she was bringing someone.”

  “Initially, I had a business conflict.” I offer him an easy smile. “But I canceled my trip. I couldn’t stand to be away from Penny for four whole days.” I hug her closer to my side, casting a loving glance down at her upturned face.

  “Of course,” Phillip says, but I don’t miss the skeptical note in his voice. “Anastasia will be thrilled to hear you’ve got a plus one, Penny. We can see about getting you and Bash settled into one of the rooms in the guesthouse. We were going to put you in your old room, but a twin bed won’t work for two.”