by Tina Donahue
“Okay, I will.” Obediently, she looked at her partially naked breasts.
He forgot to breathe at the picture she created. Strength wrapped in submission and temptation. It empowered him, and it humbled him. More than any woman he’d known, she touched his soul. He suspected his feelings weren’t fleeting; they’d been growing for some time. Whether they’d last through the petty annoyances and major arguments in any close relationship was unknown until the acquisition and his promotion played out, and he joined Painted Ladies. Somehow he had no worries about her enduring effect on him.
Eased back into her, he rolled her nipples between his fingers then tugged them gently. With the mirror in front, him behind, and the lights shining brightly, she had nowhere to hide.
Her blush darkened, staining her cheeks and throat.
He craved more and ran his hands down her rib cage to her dress. It didn’t take much to ease the garment past her arms and hips. Silk swished around her legs and floated to her feet.
Her stomach quivered from her ragged breathing. Her microscopic thong made from lace and black satin tied on each side, the tiny bows resting on her hips. His heart slammed into his chest, straining his voice. “You made this too easy.”
She drew in a deep breath. “I made what too easy?”
Exposing her. Once he tugged the bows, the thong would untie and fall away. It wasn’t what he wanted. He needed to draw this out, have her relish every second, him stripping and owning her.
“Adam?” Her voice had grown smokier. “What did I make too easy?”
He cleared his throat in order to speak. “Stripping you.” He flicked the left bow.
She watched. “Why would you want it to be hard?”
“I don’t want to rush.”
Longing blurred her gaze. “Neither do I. We should savor each moment.”
“I intend to.”
Her color rose. She looked so vulnerable, it returned his restraint. He knew what he would do next.
Sensuous sounds from a sax played on the radio, inviting indulgence.
Expectation shivered through Danni, making her hot and shaky in the best possible way. She knew she should have looked at Adam’s hands on her, as he demanded, yet his face captured her full attention, not allowing her to resist. Intensity sharpened his features. His gaze prowled over her nipples, mound, and inner thighs. He wore the look a male animal has when fixed on having pleasure. His shaft nudged the furrow between her cheeks, implying the power from his sex.
If she’d had the strength to whimper, she would have. Her pussy prepared for his invasion, its moisture further dampening her thong. Musk and coarse need scented her.
If he noticed, it didn’t sway him nor did he rush. He traced her left bow, playing with it and her.
She imagined herself nude and exhibited, defenseless against his scrutiny. It titillated and concerned. Her breasts were too small, her stomach protruded slightly despite the zillion crunches she’d suffered through. Until this moment, and even after Matt’s and Bryan’s betrayals, she’d come to accept her flaws, considering them unimportant.
The mirror and numerous lights washed away her indifference, magnifying every doubt she ever had. Her knees wobbled.
Adam pushed closer, supporting her weight. He pressed his mouth to her neck and suckled.
She drooped against him. Gorging on chocolate at every freaking meal and not gaining an ounce wasn’t as nice as this.
Earlier, he’d claimed he was different.
He was far more than she expected—a seductive tyrant with a punishing mouth. He trailed wet kisses from her neck to her shoulder.
Her pulse sprinted.
His coming beard scraped her.
Wherever he touched her nerve endings fired and warmth burst, heating her skin. Passion and need made her forget her shortcomings. He didn’t seem to notice them as he licked her shoulder, leaving his mark and scent.
He edged to her right. “Put your hands behind your head.”
To lift her breasts. She forgot to keep her focus on the mirror and looked over.
“Unless you want me to bind your hands behind your back with one of my ties.” He stroked her breasts and nipples.
Felt good. Awesome in fact.
He kissed her shoulder. “Your choice.”
Her mind worked overtime, visualizing the many uses they could find for his ties. Binding her to the bed, legs spread wide, inviting him to mount her. In the bath, he could tie her wrists to the showerhead, allowing him full rein to run his soapy hands over her, discovering hidden areas.
They could even use the curtain rod. Once they’d parted the drapes to expose the outside world, he could frame her within them, nude, helpless, arms held captive above her head. The suite would be dark, the balmy September night further shielding her from view, unless those below looked closely.
Would they?
Something to worry about and to provide an edge to an already unrestrained situation as he pleasured her in ways she’d only fantasized. Anticipation barreled through her, making her tremble. “I’d like you to use your ties later.”
“I will.”
His promise, or threat, lingered in her mind, exciting her more. She laced her fingers behind her head. Cool air kissed her nipples, emphasizing their nudity. Her ears buzzed.
He touched her thigh. “Spread your legs.”
She pressed her nails into her hands.
He waited.
Slavishly, she spread her legs as much as she dared in her strappy, silver heels and nearly as far as her dress allowed. Knees locked, she maintained the indecent position, scarcely able to look at her reflection.
He had no problem, his inspection lazy and possessive as he slipped his index finger beneath the lacy waistband of her thong.
Everything stopped. Her increasingly rapid breathing quieted, so did the sultry jazz, and the drone from the air-conditioning.
He stroked her delicate curls.
Her pussy tensed.
Once he’d eased his hand beneath the thong, he stroked her furrow, reached her anus, and touched it boldly as he hadn’t before.
She gasped, heat pouring through her.
He teased the tight ring, stealing her newest breath, and tugged at the left bow, untying it.
Satin ribbons slid over her thigh. The thong edged down, revealing her blonde fleece, fragrant and wet from arousal.
As silent as it had seemed a moment ago, it was now too loud. Her heart thundered and the sax wailed.
He circled her anus, his hand resting heavily on her ass, making certain she couldn’t budge. After untying the remaining bow, he eased the lingerie from between her legs and pressed it to his face, taking in her scent.
Wow.
His eyes grew distracted then glassy and his lids slid down. He gripped the thong hard enough to blanch his knuckles. His erection pressed against his fly, his cock so huge it must have hurt. She needed to see his balls, figuring they must be plump and tight, aching to release their load in her mouth, cunt, and anus.
Though not now as he’d warned.
He tossed her thong on the chair, smiled, and caressed the springy curls between her legs. “A real blonde. What a nice surprise.”
She swayed at his intimate touch, her chin lifted. “You like surprises?”
“I enjoy giving them more.”
He unsnapped her bra and pushed the cups back to bare her breasts. The mirror flaunted her nudity. Her defenseless position invited him to do whatever he wanted at his leisure.
She bit back a moan.
He played with her nipples. “Is this anything like your fantasy?”
She’d never imagined a moment like this or the countless emotions it awakened. “It’s more daunting.”
His features softened. “Because it’s real?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you trust me?”
His question stopped her. So did the look in his eyes. Pure candor, no BS. The same as when he’d said he wasn’t
involved. He inspired trust and a lot more, though it hardly mattered.
After a few days together, they always parted. He never had a chance to prove himself over the long run, or hurt and disappoint her. Tomorrow would be the same, each going their separate ways. Her heart stumbled, and she warned herself not to complicate tonight. Given her lousy track record when it came to men, she wanted reckless pleasure this evening, not to start another entangled relationship. “Yes, I trust you.”
“Good.” He snuggled one hand between her buttocks, the other covering her mound, and grinned rakishly. “There’s no turning back now.”
She was so wet he had no trouble sliding three fingers inside her opening, generating pressure she’d only dreamed about.
Her head fell back, pushing against her hands, which lifted her breasts farther.
He stroked her swollen clit and teased her anus.
She stiffened from the intimate and glorious assault. Everything within her hungered.
Slowly and expertly, he worked her, not content to give her immediate relief. He grazed her anus as he also made wider and wider circles around her clit, touching it briefly, lightly, deliberately tempting, not fulfilling.
Time no longer registered. Only her sex existed, eager and wanting.
He inclined his head to the mirror. “Watch.”
Shit. “No.” She could hardly stand, think, or breathe. Adding more to the mix was cruel.
He stopped stroking.
Damn him. Fighting an unbearable urge to swear or finish the job herself, she lowered her head, which felt enormously heavy, and looked at her reflection.
Her eyes were slits, lips parted and waiting, summoning his tongue or cock. Never had she felt more sensual or alive. She managed a small smile, unable to offer more. She glanced at his reflection, imploring him to continue.
He latched on to her erect nipple, bathing it in his wet heat.
The ache between her legs exploded, sending warmth in every direction.
He suckled hard.
She gulped air but still felt breathless, unable to fill her lungs.
He rubbed her clit and probed her anus, snatching what little breath she had.
This time, she needed to keep him from stopping. He had to drive her over the edge, and she knew only one way to accomplish it. Yielded completely, she arched her back so he had easier access to her breasts. Next, she pushed her right ankle then her left against her dress, forcing her legs more widely apart, making herself as opened and vulnerable as she could.
Chilled air licked her damp cleft. The mirror reflected her whorish pose, exciting her further.
He teased her nub.
She welcomed the heaviness between her legs and pleasure swelling in her thighs. Repeatedly, she had to wait and want so he wouldn’t stop.
The longer she failed to come, the more determined he became. He stroked, probed, and grazed her sensitive flesh relentlessly, unwilling to give her peace until she climaxed. She dug her nails into her hands. Jaw tightened, she squeezed her lids, fighting him at each step.
He burrowed his fingers deeper inside her, increasing the pressure, and roughly thumbed her clit.
She shattered, her climax tearing through her, and released her full weight into him. Her gasp competed with the music until he captured her mouth and thrust his tongue inside.
His kiss rewarded and disciplined, keeping her from crying out as he teased her already aroused clit.
She tried to shake her head no. It was too soon, her nub ultra-sensitive.
Not allowing resistance, he deepened his kiss, compelling her to take his tongue more fully inside.
Slick moisture ran from her pussy to her inner thighs. Her sheath clenched and relaxed in a staggering climax. Lightheaded and sluggish, she couldn’t take any more.
He slid his fingers until they nearly left her opening then tunneled them back inside, filling and stretching as he glided his thumb over her clit.
She came again, these contractions deeper and richer than the first.
He finished their kiss and lifted his mouth from hers.
Deliciously drained, she let her arms drop to her sides.
He eased his fingers from her opening and between her cheeks, then wrapped his arm around her waist, welcoming her weight.
She nestled closer, her cheek resting against his pecs, his solid strength comforting her.
He ran his free hand over her left breast and down her belly.
Her toes splayed.
He touched his lips to her ear. “Was it good?”
He couldn’t be serious. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know. That’s why you’re going to tell me.”
She liked his caveman act. “Let’s say way better than my fantasy and probably any you’ve had.”
His proud laugh filled the room. He kissed her temple. “Glad to hear it. Ready for more?”
Warmth pooled between her legs. She raised her face, barely able to focus. “What did you have in mind?”
“You’ll see. Can you get the dress off your feet?”
If she had to burn it away, she would. “Yep.”
Once freed, she expected they’d go to bed.
He led her to the desk where she left their champagne.
When he didn’t take any, she figured booze wasn’t what he wanted. He regarded her nudity, making her wait until he met her eyes. The way he looked down his nose said he owned her.
“I don’t understand.” She gestured to the desk. “You want to make love on that rather than the bed?” The mirror reflected each.
He leaned in until their lips almost touched. His breath hushed against her mouth. “I’m not going to fuck you on the desk. You’re going to bend over it, spread your legs, lift your ass, and then I’m going to fuck you. Go on.” He stepped back.
Her pulse raced at his blunt words and manner. She regarded his full length. “Shouldn’t you get undressed first?”
“Nope.” He put the champagne bottle and their drinks on the nightstand. Returned to her, he opened the desk drawer and grabbed a cellophane square from inside. She counted twenty, each emblazoned with the hotel logo. “Your suite came with these?”
“Along with the champagne and mirror. Hold this.” He handed her the condom.
An extra-large model. Her legs went watery.
He unzipped his pants, worked his hand inside and released his thick cock, the rigid column dusky and veined.
The world spun and her delight soared. She longed to hold, smell, and taste his dick then pull it deeply into her mouth, pressing her face into the dark hair at its root.
He put his hand out, palm up. “Give me the condom.”
“No.” She held it away from his reach. “I’ll put it on you. Please.”
His mouth turned down, but he nodded.
She ripped the packet and smiled at the silky lubrication and latex. Gently, she cradled his cock. Its heat and sheer might tripled her already raging pulse. She had no idea how guys got through each day without constantly playing with themselves. After a steadying breath, she unrolled the condom over his smooth crown and carefully pushed it down the shaft.
Too carefully, perhaps.
He gripped her wrist and pulled her hand away. “Bend over.” Unashamed passion intensified his voice. “Now.”
He stepped back to watch.
What little modesty remained dissolved beneath intolerable desire. She tugged her bra off and tossed it aside. Positioned over the desk, she spread her legs wide, arched her back, and lifted her ass. All while she glanced into the mirror.
He made a strangled sound, the dangerous kind one hears from caged beasts. Eyes hooded and focused, he regarded her, his previous haste gone. He stepped unhurriedly from the right to the left, taking her in.
Never had she felt as naked, realizing his intent in staying dressed. He wanted her exposed and helpless. He dominated, she submitted.
At his approach, she locked her knees.
He lifted h
is rod and grazed her inner thigh, his action ruthless and promising.
She yearned to have him inside her, plundering, taking, pleasuring.
He gripped her ass, holding her.
The radio piece turned savage. Drums reverberated, sounding like heartbeats. The musician played the piano wildly.
She panted.
He entered without warning or more foreplay, driving his cock deep into her pussy, working her until his entire length fit and they touched.
She softened at the shameless picture they created and the strain from containing his size.
He touched her clit.
She bucked in surprise, her sex still tender and aroused too easily.
If he noticed, it changed nothing. He eased back, almost releasing himself, before sliding into her once more. His last gentle act.
He rode her hard and rough as if he couldn’t help himself, or knew how much she liked what he did. Control only remained in his featherlight touch as he taunted her nub.
Her attention swung from his coarse thrusts to his teasing strokes, each stripping away her control. Hair clung to her damp neck and her breasts swayed. She gulped air and gasped it out as too many breathtaking feelings flared, threatening to overwhelm.
He doubled down, pumping harder, stroking faster and rougher.
Lights flashed behind her lids. She felt weightless but weighted too. Totally unhinged.
Danni’s climax slammed into her, more forceful than anything she’d known. She soared, spun, floated, then fell back down.
He kept pumping, his strokes relentless.
She wanted to beg for a minute’s rest. Her nerves were raw, her pussy too trapped and defenseless. Unable to make a sound, she gladly rode the wave.
He prolonged the exquisite torture, stroking, pumping, fucking her as she wanted and required, bringing her to climax again, with him this time. Her sheath pulsed crazily, clenching his cock, not willing to let it go.
He growled and grunted.
Still panting, he draped himself over her and leaned on his forearm so she wouldn’t have to bear his weight. His convulsive breaths pressed his chest against her back.
The mirror showed his deep color and weary features.
Tenderness washed over her. “Yes.”
