by Naomi West
“Do you love Clay or not?” Pierce asked, pinning her to the couch.
“Let me up,” Felice snapped, her temper flaring just as quickly as her lust. “Now.”
A snort of frustration. “Just answer the question.”
“I don’t know! Now let me up!” Felice squirmed, trying to break free of his impossible hold.
Before she could say anything else, Pierce had pressed his mouth to hers, leaving no room for words. His mouth was searing hot and lit every inch of her body on fire. Hyper aware of every place their bodies touched, Felice moaned like a porn star into his mouth, her body craving his like an addict.
Eyes boiling with passion, Pierce pulled back to stare down at her, holding her wrists in place. His breath was hurried like he’d run a race. Felice felt the same, her heart banging hard against her ribcage. “When will you ever just forget what is best for your show, your family, or your public and worry about what’s best for you, Felice?”
And she melted when he said her name. Pierce was the most beautiful thing in the world, and right then, nothing else mattered.
Chapter Twelve
Pierce
Fuck.
Pierce was pinning the most beautiful creature in the world to the couch, and his body had some very clear ideas where this should go next. Those beautiful, green, bedroom eyes glittered up at him like a promise. Pierce no longer seemed in control of his own body as he bent forward again, his mouth finding hers as though drawn there by gravity.
This kiss was far gentler, questioning. The warm, beautiful body underneath his arched up to meet him, her breasts brushing against his chest. It almost sent him over the edge; he nearly growled as he buried his face against her neck, nibbling, kissing, and teasing the hot skin he found underneath her perfect, blonde hair.
She squirmed underneath him, little pornographic noises slipping from her throat over and over again, egging him on.
Before he even realized he was drowning, he was in too deep to swim to the surface. Never in his life had he ever wanted anything as much as he wanted Felice. The desire for her body, for all of her, seemed to go deeper than his need for food, water, or air. At least at the moment. “How had she caught me so easily, so fast?”
Felice managed to wrestle her wrists free, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him down on top of her body. Her legs she wrapped closer, pulling him like she could no longer live without him closer. Warm hands slid under the fabric of his t-shirt, caressing every dip and curve of his stomach. Pierce growled again, this time into her mouth, and the noise seemed to drive her harder.
They were kissing harder now, hands feverishly exploring each other’s bodies. Pierce ran his fingers reverently over every inch of her neck and shoulders, his touch trickling down her arms to her torso. The cinnamon scent of her filled him with a desire so keen it was painful, slicing deep into his self-control.
This was a mistake, and they both knew it, but nothing seemed to be able to stop them.
She cried out in pleasure as his fingers brushed over the curve of her breast, the electricity between them bringing sensations like neither had ever felt. His lips slid down her neck to her collarbones, tracing the long line of her shoulder around to the curve of her arm. Feeling her hands explore his body in turn was driving him crazy, and his erection strained almost painfully toward her.
Pierce had never wanted anything in the world like he wanted Felice.
“Please, Pierce,” Felice begged, her voice ragged with something deeper than lust. “Touch me.”
Pierce decided he liked it a lot when she begged. Without hesitation, his hands slid under her shirt of their own volition, his strong hands running along the soft, hot skin of her belly. Caressing every inch of skin, Pierce pulled the little sweater she wore up and over her breasts, then off completely. She lay before him, her mouth swollen from kisses, and her eyes dark with desire. Pierce’s eyes drank her in.
Suddenly, he dove forward, pressing his mouth against her body, finding the sharp curve of her collarbone again, then dipping lower. He found the lacy, silky edges of her bra, teasing the curves of her with lips and tongue as she moaned underneath him. She ground her hips against his, each movement driving Pierce forward.
They managed to pull each other out of most of their clothing, leaving almost nothing between them but a few, thin scraps of fabric. Felice closed her beautiful green eyes, her perfect lips parting as she threw her head back, her body melding to his. She moaned his name, content to writhe against his skin. Pierce tumbled her to the white carpet, groaning as he unclasped her bra, letting those perfect breasts free. They were beautiful, the little dusty pink nipples as hard as glass.
Pierce ran the tip of his tongue over the hardened skin. Felice gasped, her fingernails digging into the tattooed flesh of his shoulders, her eyes still closed, her head still thrown back. Writhing on the carpet below him, Felice continued to make sexy little noises in the back of her throat as he continued to kiss her breast, nibbling carefully on the delicate skin just to watch her thrash under him.
She wiggled out from under him, slippery as a cat, grinning wickedly. Pierce rolled over, watching as the newly freed Felice ran her eyes over every inch of his body, her gaze tracing the outlines of every one of his tattoos. The lust in her eyes filled him with heat, his cock standing at attention. Her eyes slid down his body to it, pink tongue darting across her perfect lips before she crawled back to him.
Pierce nearly came right then as the most beautiful woman in the world pulled his shorts down to expose his cock, and swallowed it whole. Colors burst across his vision as she alternately sucked and swallowed him, her hot, wet tongue swirling over the head of him. He grabbed hard onto the couch behind him as that clever tongue massaged the length of his shaft.
“Fuck,” he gasped. The world had narrowed down to the feel of Felice’s mouth on his dick, and he’d never ever felt anything like it in his life.
She brought him to the very edge before letting up, grinning at him before she crawled closer to lay a sloppy kiss on his parted lips. Felice’s tongue slipped between his lips, that clever tongue that had nearly undone him.
Pierce slid his hands down over her body, finding her hips and massaging them hard with his hands. Felice moaned into his mouth, but he wanted to watch her writhe. He wanted her to cry out his name over and over again in pleasure, and he was going to do whatever he had to see that fantasy come to life.
Fingers exploring, Pierce found a spot she liked to be touched pretty quickly. Her pussy was dripping wet already, slick with the juices he was dying to taste. He would find every place she wanted to be kissed, to be touched, and make her cum again and again.
He wanted Felice to be completely his if only for one, long night.
# # #
Pierce
Felice screamed Pierce’s name again, heedless of neighbors or anything else. She wanted this moment to never end. As Pierce slid his thumb inside of her, his tongue found the hot, boiling center of her, caressing all of the right places to make her writhe with pleasure. No one had ever touched her so expertly in her whole life. Sex with Clay had never been like this; Felice could feel Pierce’s desire to please her over and over again, and she found herself begging for every touch and caress that would get her there.
His mouth worked over her, licking, sucking, and tasting every inch of her dripping pussy, ferreting out her favorite places so he could exploit them. Slipping his thumb inside her again, he massaged and teased as his mouth explored her throbbing womanhood.
Biting her lip, Felice grabbed a hold of Pierce’s head. Her nails scratched gently against his scalp to pull him closer to her, to press his hot, wet mouth harder against her clit again and again. Unable to keep still, Felice rolled her hips against his tongue, aching to be closer, harder, faster. “Oh, Pierce, right there. Yes, yes, yes!” She was crying out, her hips undulating against his questing mouth hard and fast. She could feel herself right at the edge of an orgasm she
was pretty sure she would never recover from. Her whole body shook with its coming, a tidal wave that started in the base of her spine and spread out like a gas fire from the center of her being out to the edges of her being.
She screamed something, his name or some profanity probably, as that wave crested over her, crashing hard into her body. Her climax shook the whole damned world, and she screamed again, the aftershocks of the pleasure slamming into her repeatedly. Time disappeared in a torrential downpour of physical sensation, curling her toes and filling her emerald eyes with tears.
It took a solid minute for her to come down enough to speak again. “Fuck,” she whispered, her whole body covered with a thin sheen of sweat and the thick scent of sex. Every place Pierce had touched burned, like he’d put his fingerprints in lava all over her skin.
“Such language from a lady,” Pierce said. He was sitting on carpet on his knees, Felice straddling his lap and leaning back against the sofa.
“You’ve been a terrible influence,” she gasped in reply as Pierce’s questing cock found her dripping wet entrance. He’d found a condom somewhere in the house, and had somehow slid it on while she wasn’t paying attention. “Good thing too; I’m so far gone, I’m not sure I would have remembered.”
But all of her thoughts dissolved again as soon as the head of him entered her too-tight entrance, still vibrating with the massive earthquake that had just rocked it. Pierce’s huge member cut Felice in two, stretching her out in a mix of pleasure and pain that felt like heaven.
“All the way in!” she demanded, her voice rough from all of her screaming. “Fuck me now, Pierce!” Clawing at his back, Felice tried to force the whole of him inside of her, but Pierce wouldn’t be rushed.
Much to her delight and despair, he took a long time sliding his dick inside of her body as she fought to thrust hard against him. But once he was inside, Felice threw back her head in delight. He was perfect, the length of him caressing all of the places she wanted to feel him without being too big. It was like he was built for her, the width of him filling her up until it was just the perfect amount of pained pleasure.
Deliberately taking each of her tiny wrists in his massive, masculine hands, Pierce pinned her to the couch. With eyes that were so feral they were barely human staring her down, he pulled out, then slammed into her body like a freight train. The rhythm he set made her whole body scream in pleasure, and she fucked him back, hard. Hips gyrating to the tune of his music, Felice mewled in time with his thrusts, demanding more and more, harder and deeper into her body.
Roughly, Pierce picked her up and tossed her onto the couch on her stomach, a heavy hand in the middle of her back, holding her down as he thrust into her dripping pussy from behind. The new angle almost shattered her again, the pleasure from the feel of him inside of her dragging her to the edge of climax. It was building so high and fast that she knew this orgasm would drown her.
He was so powerful, so strong, his cock like a jackhammer inside of her, caressing all of the right places as he plowed her again and again.
When she came the second time, she saw stars, the whole world disappearing behind a gossamer curtain of pleasure. She felt him fall over the edge a moment later, a shout of her name, then a shivering stillness. It took a long time for them to come down off of their high, Felice’s whole body quivering with remembered, shared pleasure.
“Was it good for you?” she whispered, her breath coming in gasps that made her breasts heave against the scratchy fabric of the couch. It was too much; the nerves in every inch of her body were overrun. This little brush was enough to make her cry out, gasping with the rough feel against her skin.
“God, yes,” he answered, his voice a mere gasp in his throat.
Feeling pretty good about that response, Felice pushed herself to her wobbling feet. Her knees looked like sandpaper; how long had they been pressed against the carpet?
Pierce looked up at her, shivering a little as the sweat cooled on his beautiful, muscled body. God, he was perfect.
“So, that thing you did with your mouth?” Felice asked, her smile turning wicked.
Pierce chuckled. “Yes?”
“I would like another demonstration, if you have a mind.” Her heart thundered in her chest; she wasn’t quite sure what she’d do if he said no. She couldn’t live another moment without feeling his mouth pressed against her again, even as her body throbbed hard with remembered passion.
The grin he gave her was equally wicked, sending delighted shivers along every part of her body. “I think my mouth would like that very much.” He got to his feet, picking Felice up and throwing her over his shoulder. “Let’s find a bed, so I can show you some more things I can do that you’ll like.”
They didn’t make it all the way up the stairs the first time, but after a few hours, they finally managed to find Felice’s bedroom. Neither of them got much sleep that night, much to their mutual delight.
Chapter Thirteen
Pierce
Waking up was difficult. Pierce wanted to hold onto that wonderful, sexy dream where he’d had Felice on her living room floor for a little longer. Once he opened his eyes, the dream would start to fade around the edges and reality would take back over.
For now, he wanted to remember everything about that dream and not think of anything else.
But after a long moment of trying to keep the dream in his grasp, he had an odd thought. “The light is wrong.” And it was true; the light from his bedroom in Felice’s home usually came from the other side, assaulting his left side with the too-bright desert sun.
Conclusion: Pierce wasn’t in his room.
Chocolate eyes, swollen with sleep and red with lack of it, opened reluctantly. A mix of dread and delight filled his belly as he looked around, realizing that he was sleeping in Felice’s room. “I’m also naked.”
Fuck. Last night wasn’t a dream.
The overwhelming desire to stay with Felice hadn’t abated either, and that wasn’t a good thing. Pulling back the piles of sheets, blankets, and pillows, Pierce got out of the bed and glanced around for his clothing. He didn’t really want to walk through the house naked, but it looked like Felice hadn’t left him much choice. He took a deep breath and walked out into the hallway.
Lucky for him, no one was there. Felice wasn’t even around, which filled him with all sorts of mixed emotions he refused to sort through.
So he showered, returned to “his” room, and dressed before heading down the stairs. He wanted to see Felice again, see what it is that she thought of their exploits the night before.
But as he started down the stairs, he heard voices. One was definitely Felice’s and the other was distorted by the speaker phone of Felice’s cell, Pierce couldn’t even properly identify the gender of the person speaking. He shuffled the rest of the way down the stairs, his eyes automatically searching for Felice.
As usual, he found her in her kitchen, brewing coffee. Sometimes she didn’t even drink whatever she made; Felice simply really seemed to love the scent of coffee. “I should buy her a coffee-scented candle so she stops wasting perfectly good brew.”
Felice’s glittering, emerald eyes met his, and her mouth shifted into a shy smile as Pierce came into the kitchen. Without a sound, he grabbed a mug from the counter and poured himself some coffee, inhaling the sweet fumes before taking a big, burning sip of it.
“Yes, Mother, I told you. We’re going to Gala as a couple. It will work; I’m sure of it.”
“I don’t think you being seen in public, proclaiming that some nobody is your new boyfriend will do anything for your standing in society, Kitten,” said the scratchy, distorted voice from the other side of the phone.
Felice held her sleek little phone too hard between her fingers, keeping it flat in front of her perfect mouth. There was a kind of tension in her that Pierce only noticed when her mother was around. It radiated out from every inch of her body, the tension making her look like a bow string ready to snap.
“I mean, he’s very handsome, Felice, but he’s not anybody,” her mother was still talking, and it was starting to make Pierce angry. And not just because she was insulting him.
“I’m not sure anyone here really cares about your opinion, Mrs. Domiano,” Pierce snapped, his anger lashing out. Felice looked up at him like he’d kicked a puppy, and her mother became silent for a long time. Pierce could literally feel the anger seeping out through the phone.
As though he had never spoken, Mrs. Domiano continued her conversation with her daughter. “He should come to the Gala as your very sexy bodyguard. You two can dance and have a good time; Clay will be back with you in no time.”
