by Anya Breton
“No?”
“I want your tits on me. Or your mouth on me. Or your paradise pussy,” he explained with a wave of his free hand for her to come forward.
Paradise pussy? That sounded rather nice.
Sam started forward at the same provocative pace. Dion released his erection. His freed hand flitted along her ass, homing in on her panties’ lacey band. Rather than tug the garment down, the weretiger teased with little shoves at the barely there fabric above her ass cheeks.
She jerked at the unexpected brush of knuckles over her mons. Where had that hand come from?
The lace’s texture provided sinful sensation almost where she needed it most. And then Dion’s digits meandered through her folds with a gesture that made her sigh. A warm wave of desire flooded her from the delicious rubbing.
And then it stopped.
Dion abruptly transferred his grip to her hips. She was airborne a heartbeat later, sailing feet above the Berber carpet. The move was so unexpected Sam couldn’t quiet her startled squeal. Her pelvis collided with his collarbone. He tilted her thighs until her pussy met his mouth. Their awkward pose left her scrabbling for a comfortable place to rest her legs.
“Over my shoulders,” Dion mumbled against the red lace covering her.
Sam doubted that would be a preferable pose but didn’t question him, not with the skillful way his tongue scraped over her panties. She brought her thighs over his shoulders one by one. He groaned against her skin, sending a thrill up her torso. And then he tugged the fabric of her panties aside so he could dart his tongue between her quivering folds.
“No,” Sam’s breath hitched, “fair.”
“Hmm?” He hummed directly over her clit.
She jerked from the intensity before she was able to answer him. “I didn’t get to make you come with my mouth.”
Dion’s amusement rumbled on her skin. “You can if you really want… But I thought you wanted me to fuck you.”
He relaxed his grip when she didn’t immediately answer. His breath fanned along her belly. Sam glanced down, finding Dion staring with an uncertainty she hadn’t thought someone as confident as him capable of feeling.
Did he need to hear her say it again? It wasn’t enough that she’d complained about him stopping her blowjob? Or that she’d offered to give him a handjob? Or that she’d asked him twice?
“I do.”
There was an odd flicker in his eyes and then he dragged her down his body. The rough texture of his shirt rubbed over her lace-covered pussy in Dion’s haste. A small moan tore from her throat.
Her quiet noise soon grew into a full-blown groan when he held her panties aside so he could position her over his cock. Slowly, he eased her core down atop his stiff length. Coming home. He felt like coming home. She frantically pushed the thought out of her head before it ruined the moment.
It came as no surprise when Dion’s mouth immediately closed over her nipple. What did come as a surprise was that he seemed more intent on nibbling her tit than thrusting inside her. As much as she enjoyed the attention he paid her breast, Sam wanted the high his cock could bring. Straining her thigh muscles brought her nearly to the tip of him, and then relaxing brought her back down.
“Mmm,” Dion mumbled without lifting his lips.
She repeated the action, trembling at the shot of sweet heat that flowed over her skin with each thrust. But she wanted more. Her body needed it. And Dion seemed content to let her set the pace.
Sam brought her hands to his shoulders for support. She hoisted her body several times more, building the superb pressure deep within her, before Dion cupped her bottom. He must have noted her struggle to use muscles that didn’t often get a workout. With his extraordinary strength, it took little effort to lift her even as he continued his intent bath of her nipple.
“In a second… Oh!”
Every muscle in Sam froze exactly where it was—midair above Dion’s cock. The crisp words had come from a female at the other end of the corridor. Whoever had spoken them surely stood where she could see everything.
Dion tightened his grip fractionally as if to keep her from trying to run but his mouth stilled its lazy laps. He brought his head back until he could see her face. The wide set of his features were questioning.
Should he stop? Was that what he wanted to know?
Sam had thought she’d be ashamed to be caught—that her desire would freeze to match the stiffness in her muscles. Not so, it turned out. She was more turned-on than ever.
How could she not be? She was fucking the hottest guy she’d ever seen. And even though he’d demanded public sex in return for finding her precious sister, he looked as if he’d release her from her obligation if she asked. An odious man would hold her to it. But how odious could Dion be if he’d cleaned up her trashed living room?
She answered his silent query with a kiss. Sam molded her lips to his, quickly pushing her tongue through the surprised part in his mouth. Dion responded with a groan.
And a thrust.
Dion nearly came the second her mouth closed over his instead of screaming for him to release her. They’d been caught. She’d gone as still as the dead when she heard the woman at the mouth of the corridor. But she’d quickly rallied.
And then she’d kissed him.
It was the first time she’d initiated a kiss. As far as he was concerned, the kiss made up for having to prompt her into asking for sex.
Dion dragged her down his dick, groaning in ecstasy even as the shuffling steps of their audience retreated. Sex had never felt like this with his ex. He was certain it would be good even without the threat of being caught. With Sam Avira, he might not need an entire pack watching to truly get off.
“Come here,” the stranger whispered to someone down the corridor. “Someone is having sex in the hallway.”
Sam wouldn’t be pleased with this development. He had half a mind to drag her into the room with the ice machine, where he could close the door. The curiousness of her kiss kept him rooted to the spot.
Dion brought her all the way down his dick and then left her there while the footsteps approached. Their new pose would look as though she straddled his lap. Half naked, yes. But no one could prove they’d been fucking.
The pair of voyeurs rounded the corner. Sam stiffened against him. Her mouth withdrew. Surprise with a hint of fear flashed in her eyes as her fingers lightly gripped his cheeks. She knew they were being watched. Dion remained motionless while she decided how to handle the situation.
Sam brought her head to the left, crushing her tits against a chest he wished was bare. Her husky whisper whirled into his ear. “You’re supposed to be fucking me.”
Dion was immediately undone.
His arms clamped around her as tight as he dare go and then he surged into her as far as he could fit. After a mere pause for a breath, he slid her to his tip simply to have the pure pleasure of slamming her down again. Sam’s breath caught, followed by a swift moan that whistled through his ear canal, drawing a shudder down his back. It was a good sound, one he hoped meant she was as close as he was—because he couldn’t hold out for long.
He was vaguely aware of the sound of kissing ahead—perhaps the pair watching them. But he didn’t care. All he cared about was Sam’s pleasure. Her soft keening was now familiar. She was seconds from finishing. While he wanted her to come, he didn’t want the moment to end. Not yet. Not when he had to let her go once they finished.
Gently, he lifted her off his lap and to the side. Sam’s head shot up. The pout puffing her thin lips might have made him chuckle if he hadn’t recalled he only had a brief time left with her. She lifted a thigh as though to climb back on him—a motion he stilled with a palm to her shoulder.
“Not yet,” he told her. “I want to look at you.”
“You’ve seen me,” she whispered.
Dion shook his head twice even as he took in the slick state of her body. “I want to look at you like this, flushed from sex and more
beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen.”
Sam gave a harsh snort. Clearly she didn’t believe him. Her voice went slow and pleading. “I was so close, Dion. Please. Why did you stop?”
He brought her against his chest because he simply couldn’t be away from her for long. With his lips against her temple, he whispered, “I didn’t want the moment to end.”
The hot little witch said nothing. However the wiggle of her hips beside his thigh said more than words could. She still wanted him even after their chat, and with the knowledge they had an audience.
Sam could have him. Just as soon as he had her screaming his name.
She squealed delicately when he reversed their positions and gently set her on the cushioned bench. Dion dropped to his knees in front of her. He held her heavy gaze as he nestled between her heavenly thighs.
The heat and fragrance of sex and Sam assailed his senses. He could do nothing but drill his tongue through her folds, ultimately ending in her passage. Fingernails dug into his scalp with brutal force, proving she enjoyed the change. Pleasure exploded amidst the pain. Dion barely kept from flipping her up to drill her with something more substantial than his tongue.
He needed to bring her now before he came into the carpet. Alone.
Dion got his fingers in on the action. Two plunged into her slick entrance and worked with steady driving motions. Her sibilant response was almost as promising as the muscles squeezing his digits.
Humming a quiet command for release against her clit, Dion found her G-spot with a deft gesture of his fingers. Stocking-covered feet slammed against his shoulder and then clenched him tightly. His lips curved into a smile as he fluttered his tongue against her in a move meant to send her over the edge.
“Oh…Aer!”
Not quite.
Dion drew her sensitive nub into his mouth as his fingers made steady strokes along her inner walls. His lips puckered. And then he gave a mighty suck on the one spot that would drive her wild.
“Dion,” she screamed, far louder than he’d expected.
Her muscles rolled over him, trembling with force that made his dick jump in sympathy. He needed to be inside her. Now.
Sam didn’t protest when he hauled her off the cushion. Instead she hung limply from his arms as if incognizant of anything beyond the sensations coursing through her body. He dropped to the bench, groaning at the damp heat she’d left behind.
Dion settled her on his thighs with reverent care. Their audience was mere feet beyond Sam’s shoulder, almost too close for his comfort. But though the couple watched with avid gazes, their hands were on each other. The spice of arousal floated on the air—four signatures to filter through. Dion only cared about one.
He released a hand from Sam’s velvet skin and positioned his dick to her drenched opening. Sam strained eagerly forward against his chest, nearly disrupting the organ’s steady push within. She gripped his neck tight, tighter still when he finished the first full stroke. Dion remained motionless, reveling in the feel of her surrounding him in every way.
Sam flipped her hair over her shoulder. His balls clenched at the image he’d imagined, days ago, come to life.
Dion’s mind conjured a new fantasy, one of Sam across a breakfast table. It immediately warped to her in bed with a tray of eggs and bacon across her nude body. His insides twisted with need.
What would it be like to have her for more than a few minutes?
But no. He was odious. Infected. She didn’t want him for more than sex.
And so he’d give her what she wanted.
Dion let loose with a flurry of thrusts.
She cried out first, clinging to his neck as though he was her anchor in the sexy storm. Sam came apart around him without warning, her inner muscles pulsing in the perfect combination of speed and force. Her climax ruthlessly brought his. Dion buried his face in the bend of her neck while his dick spurted a seemingly endless spray into the rubber sheath within her wet heat. He groaned his pleasure into her skin to keep the sound to a minimum.
Perfect. He’d never been a sentimental man but there was simply no other way to describe the moment.
Sam didn’t immediately push away. Dion was content to let her sit on his lap for as long as she wanted. Having the strong woman pliant in his arms, shaking like a leaf, amazed him. He ran a slow hand down her back, over the white shirt that was damp from her sweat.
They smelled like wonderful musky, salty sex. Anyone with a decent nose would know what the hot caterer had been doing during her brief break. Dion considered feeling guilty about that.
But then she buried her head in his neck in return. He was nearly undone all over again. Such an endearing gesture, one the cynic in him ought to have scoffed at. Yet she did it after they’d shared something so private in public. The knowledge increased the strange ache in his chest.
And it made his teeth ache. The primal need to claim her, to mark the neck centimeters away, coiled within his body.
“Are they having sex?” she whispered into his ear.
Dion had forgotten about the pair who stumbled upon them. He’d been too focused on Sam to care about anything else. He widened his senses—taking in everything his affliction allowed. The slap of skin to skin, moist noises abounding, implied that if the pair wasn’t having intercourse, they were at the very least engaging in some serious foreplay.
“Maybe,” he whispered back.
“Does that happen often?”
He chuckled softly. “I don’t know.”
She brought her head back so she could see his face. There was a skeptical lift to her brow. “You don’t know?”
“I’ve only had sex in front of the pack.”
He knew the moment her lips compressed that he shouldn’t have said it. But she’d asked.
Sam shoved at his shoulders. Much like last time, her pussy muscles clenched over his dick in her straining. The warm pressure liquefied his brain with lingering pleasure. And so when he was lucid again, she was already on her feet with her wrinkled skirt tugged into place and her fingers fast at work fastening her buttons.
Dion wanted to caress her perfect tit before it was hidden away but she looked fit to spit. Instead, he worked on cleaning himself off so he could give chase when she tried to escape.
She wouldn’t get far. If she did, it wouldn’t be for long. Because their agreement may have been satisfied. But he wasn’t. And Dion was no longer certain he ever would be.
Chapter Fifteen
The stranger near the end of the corridor had his pants around his hips. His thighs pumped in rhythmic motions, punctuated by feminine gasps. Naked limbs curled around naked limbs as the aroma of sex floated in the air. There could be no mistaking what he was doing to the blonde against the wall. But when it should have been lurid, the stranger murmured in his lover’s ear and her eager replies implied a strong bond that sweetened the scene.
What would that feel like?
Sam’s face went hot, red, when she realized she’d been staring. Or perhaps her blush was because the voice she’d imagined murmuring was Dion’s. Sam tried to sneak around the rutting pair before she was forced to acknowledge the desire once again blooming within.
Or the disappointment tightening her insides because the weretiger Alpha only wanted her for her tits and “paradise pussy”.
“Do you need help?” Dion’s quiet voice in her ear made her jump six inches. She hadn’t heard him moving, had thought he’d still be seated on the bench by the window, with the sun kissing his rugged features. A quick glance back showed he was on her heels, fully dressed and far more presentable than she was.
The sheen of sweat beneath her dress shirt and the cream between her thighs weren’t too noticeable. Neither were comfortable but at least they weren’t visible. However, her hair was damp where it clung to her neck. The party staff might not realize she’d been fucking in the corridor but they’d at least know she’d done something strenuous.
“No,” she told Dion.<
br />
The sooner he left, the sooner she’d be able to get on with trying to get over him. She set her jaw angrily—at herself and at him.
He’d had sex in front of his pack. No doubt with a pack member. Sam couldn’t compete with a member of Dion’s faction.
Dion had probably dated this nameless weretiger. He hadn’t dated Sam. He’d not so much as hinted he wanted anything but sex. In public.
Public sex should have been a casual affair. And it had been for him. But Sam couldn’t detach herself. Now she’d pay the price.
She hurried into the nearest ladies room without a word for Dion because she couldn’t bear to look at him now. If she was lucky, he’d be gone when she emerged.
Staring into the mirror at her flushed cheeks and swollen lips brought the hard realization—she didn’t want Dion to be gone. She wanted him waiting, panting for her return.
Sam twisted the knob for the hot water in the nearby sink, and then hit the lever for a length of harsh brown paper that the place considered towels. She doused it beneath the stream so she could carefully begin cleaning the mess they’d created. Finger combing her hair would have to do because she’d left her purse in the banquet room.
Minutes later, Sam emerged to find the corridor empty. Her heart sank between her ribs. Desperately, she tried to rally her mood before she’d have to face people.
With Dion missing, perhaps no one would work out why she’d gone from crisply presentable to limply messy. It was a small consolation…
It was no consolation at all. But Sam had far too much to do to worry about her flagging mood. And there’d be plenty of time to lament her poor decisions when she was alone at home.
* * * * *
Their weretiger houseguest was kind enough to wait until after Sam had taken a shower and dressed to seek her out in the kitchen. Still, she found it hard to look at him and not remember how his Alpha had once again sneaked off without facing what he’d done to her. At least she didn’t smell like sex any longer.
“Dion wants me back at the restaurant,” Kevin told her at a low volume, as though he hoped to keep it a secret from the young woman in the room down the hall. “He thinks your sister is probably out of danger now.”
