Untouchable (Undeniable Series Book 1)

by S. L. Naeole

  “We’re having it via surrogate. I’m much too busy to actually be pregnant right now, and with the corporate events season kicking off I’ll never find couture gowns to fit a swollen belly. Besides, if the camera puts on ten pounds, I’d look like an exploded sausage. Maybe the next one I’ll have naturally.”

  Her flippant attitude about the entire thing left a bad taste in my mouth, and as we walked away from her Mal squeezed my hand and whispered into my ear, “And now you know why after two dates I knew to get as far the hell away from her as possible.”

  Giggling into my hand, I allowed him to take me around the large ballroom that had been reserved for the auction, the informal setting juxtaposed with the formal attire of the people in attendance making for a nice contrast that put everyone at ease despite the high dollar amounts bid on things like late nineteenth century statues and original first editions of unknown books.

  Mal bid on a few things, and even had me raise his paddle once for a pair of jade earrings that were reportedly gifts to one of the original New York socialites after her second wedding, but he’d lost all bids and didn’t seem too disappointed about it. Eventually, we were back in the limo where, giggling, we had Lyle pull into a drive-thru burger joint and ordered hamburgers, fries, and milkshakes.

  “No one eats fries like you do,” he said as he fed one to me.

  Snatching it out of his fingers with my teeth, I chewed and then asked him what he meant by that. His smile was sweet when he replied in that low, gravelly voice of his, “like the woman I love. Like the woman who makes my dick hard just by her scent alone. Like the woman who sets my skin on fire and makes me wish I had a dozen hands so I could touch her everywhere.”

  When the limo stopped, it wasn’t outside of my apartment. Confused, I grabbed my milkshake in one hand and Mal’s in the other as I stepped outside and frowned at the familiar building in front of us. “Why are we at Del’s place?”

  His smile lowered a fraction as my question hit him. “Del? Your boss lives here?”

  “Yes,” I answered. “Third floor.”

  Understanding bloomed on his face before his smile picked up again. “I live here, too. Top floor.”

  “Of course,” I grunted before following Mal into the lobby, the limo driving away behind us.

  Using his own code in the elevator, Mal and I rode up to his apartment in silence, memories of the last time we were in an elevator sending heat to flood my face. When we reached his floor, he dragged me out and quickly turned to one of the two units on the floor. After punching in his code, he opened the door and pulled me inside. Taking the milkshake out of my hand, he placed it on a surface in the dark, continuing to lead me around furniture and down a hallway until we reached what I knew was a bedroom.

  “Mal,” I huffed nervously as I felt his hands on my body, his mouth on my skin.

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’re going to take this as slow as you want. But right now, I need to taste you, kiss you, hold you.”

  I realized then that I needed the same thing. Moving my hand behind me, I found the zipper at my back and tugged, feeling the zipper glide through teeth to release me from my copper confines. I heard the soft rustle of my dress falling at my feet, followed by the swift intake of breath as Mal realized what I’d done. His hands moved down my arms, his thumbs outstretched so that they grazed the sides of my breasts as they traveled.

  “You’re so lovely,” Mal breathed against my neck.

  “Kiss me,” I said, my voice a plea. Tilting my face up, I waited for Mal’s mouth to touch mine, for his lips, his tongue. Instead, a gasp of shock left me as I felt wet heat on my breast. Mal’s mouth surrounded my areola and nipple, creating a hot vacuum of electric sensation in my body. I jerked, pushing my breast even further into his mouth, and then shook at the sound of his deep, guttural moan.

  His hands moved to press me to him, trapping me against his body before one hand began to sweep up and down my back, moving lower and lower until a hiss left him as my nipple popped out from the sweet suction of his lips. “My naughty girl. You’re not wearing any panties again.”

  I laughed, fully and freely as my hands found his head and tugged his head to my mouth. “You make me want to be naughty,” I murmured against his lips before crushing his mouth to mine. Our tongues warred in our mouths, him trying to conquer mine, me trying to conquer his. My heart thundered against his chest as I realized that it didn’t matter who won because neither of us lost.

  Especially when one of his hands was stroking gently, teasingly against one cheek of my rear, while the other was drawing tight circles around a puckered nipple. And then when that hand on my ass started to dip lower, and lower still, and touched me where I was hot and wet, all thoughts went out of my head.

  “Mal,” I panted, my hips automatically pushing into his hand, wanting his touch. Needing his touch.

  “Fuck, Victoria.” His voice was thick, heavy with need. We moved toward the bed, his arms keeping me from falling onto the soft mattress that smelled like him. Inhaling, I realized that I was surrounded by the scent of him. Citrus. Spice. Mal. The combination of scents worked their way through me, feeding my desire for him as his hand played over my belly and then floated down my pubic bone to settle between my thighs.

  “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he said hoarsely.

  Nodding, I pushed myself up on my elbows to watch, the darkness doing nothing to hide the things his hand was doing as one finger slid delicately up and down the seam of my wet folds. His touch singed me. And when he slipped that finger between the folds, barely breaching me, that lone finger stole my ability to breathe.

  “Mal,” I groaned, wanting. Wanting so fucking much.

  “Shh,” he hushed. “Let me make you happy, love. Let me give you what only I can.”

  I wanted to tell him he was being a bit presumptuous, but he wasn’t because that was what I would’ve said if he didn’t dip that finger even deeper, even as his thumb found that bundle of nerves right at the peak of my opening.

  “Your clit is swollen,” he said, the word sounding so dirty and thrilling at the same time as he pressed against it, swirling his thumb in hypnotic circles. “Fuck, it’s so sexy. You’re so sexy, Victoria.”

  My hips lifted into his hand, my body loving the feel of him inside me.

  Holy shit. He’s inside me!

  His finger moved slickly into my inner channel as I moved, and we both hissed at the sensation of it. One finger and I felt full. Mal breathed about how tight I felt around his single digit, and then began to slide that finger in and out of me, each time twisting slightly while still rubbing my clit with his thumb.

  And through it all I watched, my mouth parted, my breathing shallow and quick. Mal’s mouth descended onto one of my breasts, licking and suckling on my nipples and sending shockwaves running down my belly and straight to my tightening center. Everything was twisting, tightening so fast, so unbelievably fast.

  “Mal,” I panted. “Mal, it’s coming.”

  He lifted his mouth from my breast, the quiet “pop” of his mouth breaking the vacuum causing me to jerk and forcing his finger even deeper into me. “What’s coming, sweetheart.”

  My legs were twitching, my toes curling as my ass lifted up from the bed and I felt his knuckles pressing against the puffy outer lips of my vulva. “M-m-me,” I hissed before it hit me like a battering ram. Every nerve in my lower body seized while my hands clawed desperately at the comforter beneath me, trying to hold on to something, afraid that if I let go I’ll float away.

  But I couldn’t float away because Mal’s finger was inside me, sliding in and out like a piston. And then I felt something even wider enter me, my eyes growing round in shock and pleasure as I realized he’d added a second finger into me.

  “Wha—” I couldn’t speak anymore. Mal, sensing this, shifted his body on the bed and, using his free arm, lifted me onto him, my back to his chest. He spread his legs wide, my ass cradled against his hardness.
With one hand still inside me, he used his other to spread my thighs over his, and with my legs wide to the air and his seeking hand, I was captive to his whims.

  With each pump of his fingers, his hips drove upward, grinding his hard penis into the cleft of my ass. He moved his free hand up to my hair, twining his fingers into it before dragging my head back and lifting my face up to his for a kiss. This kiss was…it was powerful. Every jerking motion, every thrust of his body, every swivel of my hips pushed our mouths harder and harder into each other. Our lips ground against teeth, our tongues danced. I could imagine everything his tongue was doing in my mouth mirrored everything his fingers did inside my drenched walls.

  Mal’s body was a wall of muscle and concentration beneath my back, but I could still feel his heart. I could still feel his lungs expanding with each breath he took. And they all timed up with mine as he drove me closer and closer to the brink of an orgasm that I knew would be the most powerful one yet. Closer and closer, my body crawled. He was both gentle and rough, his fingers a piston inside me while his thumb swept almost lazily at my sensitive clit. So many sensations, so many sounds, so many textures of Mal beneath me, on me, in me. The realization that even as intimate as we were, he wasn’t taking more than I could give, he wasn’t doing anything I didn’t want—he wasn’t showing me the one thing he knew would frighten me most of all—finally set me over the edge.

  And I screamed.

  I screamed his name into his mouth as my body stiffened and I felt my inner walls contract over and over on the deep, hard knobbiness of his fingers. And then I felt wetness spread across my back as he came, too, the two of us moaning and crying into each other’s mouths our passion, our desire, our love.

  So much for coming inside me the next time, I thought to myself with a silent smile.

  Slowly he slipped his fingers out of me, and I eased to the side of him, cuddling into his chest and trying to control my breathing. I heard him sucking on his fingers and I giggled.

  “Don’t judge me, sweetheart. I told you, you taste like my favorite treat,” he admonished before kissing the top of my head.

  We lay there, silently, until our hearts had quieted a bit. I painted invisible symbols on his shirt, teasing him about the fact that he hadn’t taken off a single piece of clothing. He, in turn, teased me that I’d only worn one piece of clothing so it wasn’t fair to compare.

  He grew serious, suddenly, and shifted his body from beneath me, turning onto his side so that we faced each other. “Did I hurt you? What I did—did it scare you? Frighten you? Be honest with me, Victoria. I want to know if you didn’t like it. I don’t want to do anything that you don’t want me to do.”

  There was such intensity in his eyes that a part of me told me to be cautious. But that part of me, I realized, was also the part that still clung to the nightmares of a seventeen-year-old girl. I was almost twenty-five, and in love with a man who accepted everything that was wrong with me and loved me, not in spite of them, not despite them, but because of them.

  “Baby,” I said, the first time I’d ever used the endearment—with anyone. “I loved every fucking minute of that.”

  In the dark his eyes glittered so brightly I could almost see by them. “Baby,” he whispered, repeating me. When his mouth found mine again, it was to worship my lips, my tongue. Sweet and hot, slow and gentle, every single slide and nip a testament to how much he loved me. He was making love to my mouth, and despite not touching me anywhere else but my face, another small shimmer of pleasure radiated out from between my legs, leaving me mewling and gasping into his mouth.

  “How did I get so lucky?” he breathed before pressing a kiss to the space between my brows before moving down to my lips.

  Finally, after what could have been days tasting his mouth, we broke apart. He sat up and pulled me with him, telling me to keep my eyes closed as he led me by the hand toward another room. A light blasted outward and I hissed, thankful that I’d listened and kept my eyes closed. Padding after him, my feet felt the cool hard surface of tiles telling me that we were probably in the bathroom.

  Peeking through slitted lids, I watched as Mal turned the handles to the shower, testing the temperature before quickly undoing his cufflinks and buttons. His shirt fell to the floor followed by his slacks. They fell with a wet slap that made me blush.

  “Fuck, that blush,” he groaned before taking my face in his hands and sliding his tongue into my mouth. My awaiting mouth. My always ready mouth.

  There was no doubt about it anymore. I was addicted to kissing Mal. His lips, his tongue, his taste. They were my three favorite things. At least, they were next to the sight of Mal’s beautiful face and holy fuck-me body.

  Holy fuck-me body? Who the hell am I? A couple orgasms and I’m suddenly fluent in porn lingo?

  Before I realized it, I was in the shower. I was in the shower with Mal. I was in the shower and naked with Mal.

  Mal was naked.

  With me.

  Naked.

  Naked!

  Chuckling, Mal’s lips moved from my mouth to my neck, my shoulders, and my back. I was turning at every gentle nudge of his hand, spinning beneath the hot spray of water that did nothing to cover the steamy heat of his mouth on my collarbone, the small of my back, the dip of my navel. I was too nervous to open my eyes and see where he was with each turn, what he would kiss next, but I didn’t stop him when he pressed his mouth against the juncture of my thighs.

  “I’m keeping my word, sweetheart,” he said over the sound of the spray. “I won’t taste you here until you’re ready.”

  “I’m ready now,” I insisted, surprised by the desperation in my voice.

  He laughed hotly against my thigh, nipping at the sensitive inner flesh. “No, you’re not. Not yet. But I know it’s soon.”

  I whined. I actually whined when Mal’s mouth started to move up my body. But then I felt something graze that very same thigh he’d nipped and all the air in my lungs were sucked out of me, because I knew what it was. I knew what it was, and the feel of it free from the shackles of his pants told me that I had underestimated its size by a lot.

  I peeked.

  A whole fucking lot. Sweet baby Jesus.

  “Did you just take a peek at my cock, love?”

  I yelped at being caught and then immediately groaned at the flush of embarrassment that covered my body. My hands flew to my face and I tried to turn away from him. His hands, however, held me in place and eased my arms down slowly. “Sweetheart, don’t be embarrassed for looking. This body is yours to look at.”

  My blush deepened, but I allowed him to pull my hands away from my face. “I don’t do this,” I explained, even as he took my hand and brought it to his groin, placing my palm against the velvety iron of him. He hissed at the contact of skin against skin, while I simply lost my ability to breathe. All I could do was lower my gaze and watch in amazement as my fingers willingly curled around his length.

  “See? You do do this,” Mal said softly into my ear. “And you do it so well, Victoria.”

  Everything within me that understood fear, that burned with that terror of eight years ago, told me that I was in dangerous waters. My heart darted and leaped in my chest with nervousness as I struggled to accept what was happening versus what had happened. The past was the past, and I had to leave it there if I wanted to move…

  My hand slid forward, dragging a ragged moan from Mal’s lips. Slowly, my hand slid back, my thumb and forefinger butting up against his hips and the tight flesh between his cock and balls. Feeling braver, I repeated the act, moving a pace faster. His sighs and grunts were encouraging, and when he slammed his hands against the tile on either side of me and nuzzled against my neck so that his breaths came out in thick huffs with each push and pull, my eyes widened in shock.

  “Am I doing this right?” I panted, feeling his excitement trickle into me, turning into desire.

  He jerked into my hand, grunting as I tightened my grip. “Oh baby, no. You
’re doing it better than right. You’re doing it perfectly.”

  Moving my hand faster, squeezing tighter, I let his breaths lead the way as each pump, each twist took us both closer and closer to that point of losing control. I could feel it, feel the tension in his body, feel it in mine. He wasn’t touching me, he wasn’t even looking at me, but I could feel him through me, feel him in me. He was in my blood, in the air in my lungs, in every cell in my body.

  I reacted to his reactions, felt what he felt. His blood pulsed in my hand, his heart beat in time with mine. I never really understood the notion of two people being one, but in the shower, underneath steaming hot water and pressed against his scorching hot body, I knew that we were one.

  “Ugh. I’m close, baby. I’m so close,” he groaned as his thrusts into my hand picked up speed. One of his hands dropped from the tile and slipped between my thighs, finding me, hot and damp from something other than the shower. “Fuck, Victoria. Fuck, you’re so wet.”

  He inserted one finger into me then two, curling them inside me and scissoring them as he plunged them in and out in time to my hand. Together we built up each other’s furious need for each other, and as I felt him twitch between my fingers, my own tender walls clamped down on his fingers and he swore into my neck before taking my mouth and plunging his tongue into me, licking and sucking my tongue with the same rapid urgency that he fucked me with his hand.

  Fire and lightning erupted between my thighs, echoes of heat shooting through my legs and making them weak and boneless. I cried out Mal’s name, and then with a cry of his own, Mal came in my hand and on my belly. The minute the hot jets of semen touched my skin, the fantasy I had built, the castle I had stormed crumbled and I was instantly transported back to that sofa.

  Invisible chains tightened on my wrists, ankles, and neck. Ghost hands were touching me. Unseen shafts of varying lengths were in my hands. And everything was wet, everything was warm, everything was dirty.