I moaned at the heat of his palms on my flesh, pressed my chest into his and ground my hips against him.
"What are you doing?" Shane whispered, trying to pull away. "You're teasing me."
I peeled my shirt off and unlatched my bra. "Teasing? Me? Never." I tossed the bra aside with a flourish.
Shane's eyes burned, and his hands slipped up my spine, tickled around my ribs and skated across my nipples. He was rock-hard beneath me, pressing against his zipper.
"Tease." Shane pinched my nipples between his fingers. "Making me want you when I can't have you."
"Can't have me?" I ran my tongue across my upper lip and scooted back off his lap. "You can have me, just not there. I'm sure you can figure something out, can't you?"
I pushed him onto his back and unbuttoned his pants, brushing his shirt up away from his torso. Shane drew the shirt off and set it aside, watching me. I unzipped him and tugged his jeans off, leaving him lying in only his underwear. His cock was pressing against the double opening of his boxer-briefs. I straddled him, leaning over him and planting kisses along his torso, each nipple, his sides, down the crevasses of his stomach to the V of muscle. I removed his boxers, touching his legs and hips with my lips as I did so. His back arched when I wrapped my fingers around him. My hair was loose and hung down to tickle his belly as I bent to touch the tip of my tongue to the groove running beneath his engorged head.
My breasts slipped and slid across his skin with every motion. I ran my tongue across his tip, licking the pearl of liquid oozing out of him; he moaned and rolled his hips. I grasped him at the root and spread my saliva across him, mixing it with his own leaking fluids, and then took him in my mouth, pressing my tongue against my lower teeth.
"What...what about you?" Shane gasped.
I looked up at him. "What about me?"
"You're doing this to me, but I can't—can't do the same to you..." he said. He was having trouble thinking, formulating sentences.
"Good thing we're not keeping score, then, huh?" I said, rubbing him with both hands. "Then you'd owe me, wouldn't you?"
He could only nod, then, as his hips began to buck and his back to arch. He was nearly there, I was about to take him into my mouth again when a thought struck me. He'd accused me of teasing him, so I decided to earn the accusation, a little.
I let go of him and gave him one final lick across his tip, and then blew cold air onto him. I moved up the length of his body, rubbing myself against him as I went, still wearing my pants. I kissed his shoulders when I reached them, then his chin, and then his mouth.
"Leo...god, you're making me crazy. I was about to—" he rocked his hips into mine, seeking release, "god, I was so close, please..."
I faked an innocent tone of voice. "Oh, you were? I shouldn't have stopped, then, huh? You want to me keep going, Shane?"
His eyes flew open and he glared at me. "Tease."
I smiled at him, giving a look that I hoped was wanton and lascivious. "Oh, I'm no tease. I'll take you there. Just...not yet."
I moved back down his body so his cock rested between my breasts, which gave me an idea. I took my tits in my hands and pressed them together around his hard, throbbing shaft and rocked myself down him so his tip squeezed out from between them. He groaned and said my name, spitting it in the same tone as he would a curse word. The tip speared upward and neared my face, so I tilted my chin down and took him into my mouth, sucked hard, and then withdrew once more.
"Do that again, please..." Shane's voice was ragged and his whole body was quivering beneath me.
I rocked my body up and down his, pushing him closer and closer to the edge, taking the leaking head of his cock into my mouth every time he pushed up out of the crevice made by my cleavage.
"Oh, god, I'm so close, please don't stop..." he gasped.
But I did stop, and he nearly lost it, growling with need. I slipped down and rested my cheek on his hip bone, licking his length and cupping his balls in my hands. I licked him and kissed him, worked my mouth along his entire cock, but never taking him inside, never letting him thrust.
He was jerking his hips wildly now, a silent plea to let him release.
"Tell me what you want, Shane."
"You...I want you."
I laughed, took him in my fist and pumped, an achingly slow descent of my hand along his slippery length. "You have me. I'm right here," I said. "Tell me what you really want. Say it. I want to hear you say it."
Shane gasped as he neared release, and I let go once more, just as he began to buck his hips into me.
"Goddamn it, Leo. You know what I want."
"Yes, I do. But I want to hear you say it." I was getting a thrill from this game, from drawing his pleasure out into almost-pain, from establishing some kind of power over him...the word flitted into my head and stuck there: dominance.
I lowered my head to him, tickled him with my hair, rubbed the tip of his cock against my breasts, one at a time, stimulating my nipples as I did so. I was getting wet myself doing this to him.
"You want me to beg?" Shane growled the last word.
"Uh huh." I dragged my tongue up his cock, took him into my mouth as deep as I could, and said it again, "mmm-hmmm."
The vibration of my voice against his sensitive member drove him wild, and he nearly came right then. He rocked his hips even harder then, and I spat him out and took him in my fists, pumping vigorously, getting him ready, nearly there. I felt him engorge even more as he neared orgasm, and I let him go just as he reached the edge, gasping.
"Fuck me, Leo," Shane groaned. "Want me to beg? I'll beg. Please, Leo. Let me come. Please."
"Was that so hard?" I said, moving my hands on him in a hand-over-hand motion.
"Yes. I don't beg. Not ever."
"Now you do."
"Only for you," Shane said. "Only you could...get away with that."
He was breathless now, bucking his hips into my hands. I felt him quiver, pulse, and then I locked my lips around him as he began to climax.
"Yes, yes, I'm there, I'm coming. Don't stop, please don't stop."
I didn't stop, this time. I felt his body clench and the veins in his cock throbbed against my mouth as he came, hard, spurting salty heat. He didn't roar or bellow this time, like he had in his house. He gasped on an inbreath, and then clenched his teeth and growled, a low rumble. I pumped harder, sucked and bobbed to match his hips' rhythm. He kept coming, shooting again and again, and I didn't let him down from the peak, taking my mouth off him but continuing the motion of my hands on him until his rocking subsided to shudders and he began to soften in my hands.
When he was still and gasping and limp in my hands, I crawled up to lay against him and his arm wrapped around me. His body shook with aftershocks, trembling against me.
"God, that was...fucking intense," Shane said.
"You came so hard."
He looked down at me, a welter of emotions in his eyes. "No one has ever done that to me before, made me wait like that."
"Made you wait?" I nipped his chest with my teeth. "I made you beg."
Shane laughed. "Yeah, you did. You're pretty proud of that, aren't you?"
I shrugged. "Yeah, a little."
"Well, don't get used to it." He pushed me to my back and lowered his mouth to my breast, taking my nipple in his teeth. "And you'd better believe I'm gonna get you back."
Oh, wow, did he get me back. He toyed with my nipples, getting them hard and aching, putting a heat in my belly. He slipped his leg between mine, and I clamped my legs around him, grinding against his rock-hard thigh. He took both full breasts in his hands, kissed me hard enough to take my breath away, tweaking my nipples and rubbing his leg into me.
Just his mouth on mine, his hands on me, his leg between mine was enough to make me rise, to swell the pressure in my lower muscles, but however we grinded together, however he touched my tits and kissed them and nipped them, I couldn't cross the edge, not without direct stimulation.
A
nd then, with an evil grin, Shane moved away from me and laid back in the bed, retrieving his tumbler of gin from the side table where he'd set it when I first began to touch him.
"No!" I crawled toward him.
"I told you I'd get you back."
I draped myself on top of him, wet and aching and tingling. "I thought you meant later...like I did to you!" I rubbed myself on him, straddling him. "Please, not like this! We can't make love for days yet!"
Shane just chuckled. "It sure is gonna be an interesting trip, then, isn't it?"
* * *
We arrived in London's Heathrow airport, and I was a mess. I couldn't stop touching Shane, holding on to him, caressing him. I felt needy. Shane wasn't helping. He would touch me, toy with my breasts, kiss me until I was heaving, get me hot and bothered, and then stop, and nothing I could do would get him to keep going. He'd just laugh and tell me I'd earned it.
He showed me London from the back of a rented limo, taking me to his favorite watering holes and dive bars, to dinners with friends and business associates. Those dinners were by far the scariest thing I'd ever done, trying to be elegant and sophisticated for Shane's European business contacts with their exotic accents and manicured fingers and inquisitive gazes.
Shane took me to a clothier and had me measured and fitted, half a dozen custom dresses made for me, each one of which cost more than what would have been a month's salary. Shane never blinked at the cost, never asked for prices. I could tell he'd grown up in this world, where cost wasn't just not an object, but wasn't ever even considered in decision-making. Every price tag I saw had more zeros than anything I'd ever bought, and I kept expecting him to at least raise his eyebrow, but he never did. We spent three days in London, and I think it was for my benefit, more than anything. I could tell Shane was distracted, his mind already on the mission.
Before we left London, he took me to a doctor for a full physical, immunizations, a Depo birth control shot, Malaria and TB vaccines, and a long lecture on health precautions in third world countries.
We boarded the jet on the morning of our fourth day in England. I sat next to Shane in the deep leather bucket seat and squeezed his hand during take-off. It was still scary, but not as much as the first time.
In hopes of distracting him from his brooding mindset, I asked a question that had been floating around my brain for days. "Shane? When we met, you were riding a Harley in the rain. Where were you going?"
He quirked an eyebrow at the non sequitur question. "I restore classic motorcycles as a hobby. That Harley was a 1967 Shovelhead I'd rebuilt from the engine out. I'd just put the finishing touches on her, so I figured I'd take her for a quick spin." Shane shook his head. "Literally, I'd gone three blocks when it started pouring. I was so mad. I'm going to have to redo the leather of the seat, probably."
"Poor baby has to redo the leather," I teased, unbuckling as the flight leveled out.
"I wish you could have seen yourself," Shane said, his eyes twinkling with laughter even as they darkened with desire. "Your little blue dress was soaked to the skin. You might as well have been naked. You were barefoot and angry and bleeding. You ran right into me, and when you looked up at me you seemed like you'd never seen a man before."
My period had ended, and I was on the verge of clubbing Shane over the head with a bottle of liquor and dragging him to the bedroom. I think he knew it, and he was settling in to tease me some more. He hadn't unbuckled, remaining seated and still even as I sank down onto his lap and wiggled my bottom into his crotch.
He was ready for me, physically speaking, but his body language was all insouciance and studied indifference. I didn't buy it for a second.
"I hadn't ever seen a man before I saw you," I murmured in his ear, nibbling his earlobe.
"So then you might say I was your first man?" Shane's arms wrapped around my waist.
"Something like that. My first real man, how about that?"
I untucked his button-down shirt and focused on freeing each button, kissing his chest as I revealed more and more of it. His breathing turned into long gasps and his heart began to thump harder in his chest, so I knew he wasn't unaffected, even though he held himself absolutely still, his hands resting on my spine, his head tipped back.
I felt his erection growing larger and harder against his zipper, and I writhed my bottom into it. His hips started to shift against mine in a strange way, and I realized he was folded inside his pants in an uncomfortable position. I decided to use this against him.
I pushed his shirt down off his shoulders so it was draped at his elbows, and then left it there. He'd have to let go of me to take it off himself, or be hampered by the shirt's restriction on his arms. I ran my palms on his chest, took one of his small nipples between my teeth and nipped hard enough to draw a grunt of protest from him.
All the while, I was grinding into him, arousing both of us; arousal only caused one of us pain, however, and Shane kept moving his crotch against mine in futile attempts to free himself.
I pulled back and gave him a look of innocence. "Something wrong, Mr. Sorrenson?"
Shane growled at my use of his last name, but refused to acknowledge the problem. "Nope. No problem, Ms. Larkin."
"You sure? Nothing needs...adjustment?"
"Nope. Everything's perfect."
I lifted up and ran a curled index finger just inside his waistband, enough to cause his belly to suck in out of reflex, then tugging enough to ease the pressure for a moment, but not enough to let his erection spring into a more natural position. I could feel it tipped sideways his pants, straining against the fabric, growing harder every second, larger with every brush of my backside against his groin.
I slipped off the chair, capturing his hands in mine and draping them on my shoulders as I touched my lips to his stomach and down his belly, kissing and tonguing his skin. I knelt between his knees and nudged his erection with my chin, inching it towards freedom.
"Sure?" I ran a finger along it. "You're not...uncomfortable, are you?"
"Nope." He narrowed his eyes and held himself still, refusing to move a muscle.
I dragged a fingernail across his cloth-bound cock, feeling it twitch under my touch, but still he refused to capitulate.
Time to play dirty.
I stood up in front of him and turned away, showing him my back. I was wearing a dress, the hem brushing my thighs above my knees with thigh-high stockings and strappy, low-heeled sandals. I bent over at the waist and unstrapped a sandal, letting the hem of the dress hike up to show him my ass, which was clad in only a thong. He hadn't seen me dress that morning, as he'd stepped out to take a call, so he didn't know what I was wearing underneath my dress. Or wasn't wearing, as the case may have been.
"God, Leo. What're you doing to me?" he growled.
"Doing? I'm not doing anything. I'm just taking off my shoes."
"You're...done, then?"
"Mmm-hmmm." I slipped off one sandal and tossed it at him, then bent once more to undo the other one.
He still hadn't moved, and I could see his manhood throbbing against his pants.
"You have got to be the stubbornest man alive," I said, tossing the other sandal on his lap.
"I don't think 'stubbornest' is a word."
"Shut up. It is if I say it is."
"No, it isn't. I'm the most stubborn man alive, I think you mean." He shifted his hips again, and I watched as his cock shifted slightly, the pressure alleviated a bit. "And I don't know what you're talking about."
I laughed. "I don't know why you don't just give in. That can't be comfortable."
Shane raised an eyebrow, finally unbuckling his seatbelt. "I'm comfy as can be. I could take a nap."
Bastard. At this point, it was a test of wills and I was determined not to lose. I was aching for him to touch me, to take me, but I refused to show it.
"Take a nap, hmm?" I looked at him over my shoulder, smirking at his forced relaxation. "That's not a bad idea. But I couldn't possibly
take a nap in all these clothes."
I heard a low rumble from Shane's chest, part approval, part irritation, as I lifted my hands to unzip my dress. I kept my head turned to the side so I could watch him as I inched the zipper down my back, brushed the sleeves off my arms and let the fabric fall in a pool around my feet.
I felt a thrill of victory when he finally let a groan escape from his lips; he pulled at his tented crotch and let his erection slide to vertical, but then gripped the arms of his chair with white-knuckled fingers once more.
I bent at the waist again, grabbing my ankles to present my ass full-on to Shane, a mere foot away. I was musky and wet with desire and excitement by this time, and I knew he had to smell it. I was bent over purely for his benefit, this time.
I wasn't a dancer, not by any stretch of the imagination, but I gave it my best, especially without music. I straightened slowly, twisted around to face him and stood still, letting him devour me with his eyes. His hard-on got harder, if possible, and his grip on the chair's arms tightened until I heard the wood creak under the power of his crushing fingers.
I ran my thumbs around the strings of my thong, pushing them down to give him a peek at my pussy, then let go and traced my palms up my stomach to cup my breasts. Undulating my hips at him, I tugged the cup of my bra down to show him a nipple, first one, then the other.
Shane's chest was heaving now, his gaze hooded and his eyes burning. He wanted me, and his control was slipping. His hips rolled, just once, and he pressed his head back into the chair, lip curled into a primal snarl.
I stroked myself through the fabric of my thong, the black triangle of lacy cotton growing damp. Shane rumbled in his chest again and curled his hands into fists.
"What's wrong, Shane?" I sashayed toward him to slip between his knees. "You seem...tense."
Biker Billionaire Boxed Set Page 6
