His hold around my waist tightened and my breasts pressed against the hard muscle. Something hard and thick pressed against my stomach and my nipples hardened and ached in response. Oh God, he was completely naked too, except for the sliver chain and cross he wore around his neck. My greedy fingers made their way down his torso – memorizing every delicious curve and hard line of his body for later – cold lonely nights later.
I swallowed hard. “Is this a dream?”
“The hottest dream I’ve had since junior high.” His hands cupped my breasts and a sliver of warmth prickled my spine and tugged my core with raw desire. His gaze warmed my exposed parts and my lips quivered. “God, you’re fucking beautiful.”
I wanted to see all of him – every contour and freckle of his face without anything between us. “So are you, but I wish I could see your whole face. Why are you wearing the mask?”
A deep, tormented sadness glinted in the depth of his eyes and his finger traced the silhouette of my face. “It’s . . . I was hurt there, it’s ugly.”
“Nothing is ugly about you. And this is my dream . . . I should be able to bend you to my will.”
He laughed and the rich velvety sound washed over me in waves of pleasure. I would and could listen to his laugh forever. “I’d rather not talk.”
“What do you want to do then?”
“Kiss and taste every fucking inch of you.” My body shivered at his words and I feared waking up from this dream before I had my fill of this stranger. Oddly, he didn’t feel like a stranger. Something about him was so familiar, but all coherent thoughts disappeared when his thumb grazed my already hardened nipple.
“Can I suck on you, right here?”
The growing need between my legs was agonizing. “Yes.”
Oh, God, yes. His scent of warm spices and leather washed over me. His silky tongue licked my hard bud and I gasped at the scrapping of his teeth. I tossed my head back and knotted my fingers in his black curls, pulling him closer. His mouth on my body was like nothing I’d ever experienced. My legs lead, my mouth dry, heat rolled through me in currents of heat. Lust, dark and dirty, brewed inside me. He groaned when I clasped his hard cock in my hand.
“More,” I said.
“More what?” His lips traced my collarbone.
“More. You. More everything.” My voice trembled. I moved my hand over his length and he moaned. Every cell in my body burned for this man. For his touch. His mouth. His body. I’d never been vocal during sex. I’d never felt this magnetic pull for anyone, ever. This had to be a dream and if this was my subconscious getting her grove on – I wasn’t about to disappoint her or me.
He quivered when I worked his shaft and stole my breath when his soft lips finally covered mine. He tasted of coconut, mint and something that was uniquely him. He explored my mouth at first, teasing and tasting. I parted my lips, inviting him deeper. He inhaled and claimed me with demanding strokes, his body trembling against me. Bold and shameless, I rubbed my breasts against his hard frame. The need to have skin on skin contact overwhelmed me. My body delighted in his closeness and a sense of coming home tugged at the center of my heart.
His fingers wove in my hair and tugged ever so slightly. I was thigh deep in water, yet heat pooled between my legs. He nibbled on my lower lip, resting his forehead against mine.
“Don’t stop.” Fear of this dream changing or waking up unfulfilled terrified me.
“Oh, baby, we are just getting started.”
Excitement rolled through me while he eased us both into the water to our waist.
“Lie back in the water and spread your legs.”
The cool water on my back did little to ease the scorching demand between my legs. My knees trembled as my legs parted, giving him a full view of my slick flesh.
Water droplets splashed from my hair onto my breasts and I reached up to tame the long wet curls. A low, rumbling groan came from him and made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.
“You are what wet dreams are made of…”
“Well, I am pretty wet.” I laughed despite my thirst for him.
He traced a finger over my clit and brought it to his lips. “Damn, you taste better than chocolate cake.”
“You like chocolate cake?” I stuttered the words.
He stared up with his ravenous green eyes. “Until this moment, it was my favorite flavor, now it’s second to the taste of you.”
A jolt of heat – or some sort of energy – tore through my frame. His callused hands stroked my calves and my legs swayed. He stepped between my parted floating legs and a mischievous smirk plastered over his full lips. His face pressed between my thighs, the warmth of his breath teased my core and my head sank in the pool. I sucked in air, fighting to stay above water. He grabbed my hips and I floated back coughing at the taste of salt. His low-rumbled laugh was an aphrodisiac.
“Should I stop?”
“No.” I puffed.
“Then don’t stop floating . . . no matter what.” His wicked tongue lashed against my opening. When my moan echoed around the deserted pool, his hands tightened round my ass, squeezing and caressing the flesh.
“What’s your name?” I gasped.
“Does it matter?”
“I want to know what name to call when I come.”
He chuckled into my sex and my legs quaked. “My name.” He licked the soft skin between my thighs. The rough prickle of a five o’clock shadow teased my sensitive skin and my breath hitched. “Is.” Another toe curling lick, followed by a lingering suck on my clit. “Rami.”
“Rami.” I chanted.
“I like my name on your lips.”
The demanding lashes of his tongue claimed me and twisted me inside out. His coarse hands firmly held my legs in place. I entwined my fingers into his silken curls and arched my back – cold water covered my face and I held my breath not wanting the ecstasy of his mouth to stop as I went under.
He tugged my legs over his shoulders and pulled me up. I gasped for air. The sun beamed down on my face, but I could barely see Rami’s because my hair clung to my eyes.
“You’re going to drown.” He muttered between lashes of his tongue. His powerful body lifted me out of the water and onto his shoulders. Somehow we floated to the waterfall wall and the hot stone pressed against my back. I shamelessly rocked against his mouth and his groans of gratification sent shivers down my spine. The prickle of his beard and the stroke of his tongue increased the growing throb in my core and the orgasm that seemed too far away, yet so close, crashed down on me with a vengeance.
“Rami!”
Something shifted in the air. Gone was the ocean fresh air, replaced by vanilla scented candles. Reeling from my orgasm, sadness tugged at my broken heart. I forced my eyes open and instead of Rami’s gorgeous face, I was greeted with my sterile bathroom.
3
So that was an erotic dream. Holy shit, my subconscious was one insatiable slut. Sweat prickled my skin and my face burned hot. And lord, my chest stung from the thrashing of my heart. Panting, I closed my eyes and pictured Rami. Holy freak, he was delectable. Fortunately, men like him were only real in my dreams because my heart was much too weak for so much pleasure.
When my vitals returned to normal and I was no longer in danger of cardiac arrest, I managed to dry my hair and tied it in a knot at the top of my head before putting on cotton white panties and a Made in Detroit T-shirt. I crawled between the yielding fabrics of my lush bed. Stretching like a cat, I rolled on to my side with the dream still front and center in my mind. That dream was the first happy dream that I’d had in over a year and for the moment, the usual soreness in my heart was only a dull pain. It had been so vivid and he’d been so intense. My eyelids grew heavy and exhaustion clutched my body.
A strong arm and the hint of spice draped round me. My pulsed raced and my girl parts squeezed in delight. He was back. Thank you whorish subconscious.
“Rami?”
“You put clothes on?�
�� His familiar rasp prickled my spine and a tender hand caressed my stomach beneath my shirt.
“Well, I thought I’d be sleeping alone.”
“It’s a good thing we’re not.”
Turning in his arms, I noted the white sheers that adorned the oversized bed covered in plush white bedding. But this was no bedroom. Instead the starry sky and roaring ocean peered beyond the sheers which swayed in the salty scented breeze. The full moon gleamed in the center of the sky and illuminated the beach.
His eyes were still closed and my skin seared beneath his wondering fingers. I traced the beautiful contours of his strong jaw and the after five shadow of his beard. My finger moved to the edge of the mask and Rami jerked.
“Touch me anywhere, but there.”
“Look at me, Rami.”
He lazily opened his dazzling green eyes and greeted me with a lopsided grin that shot me right in the heart. “Hey, Dimples.”
“Hey,” I breathed. “Why can’t I see your face?”
“I got injured . . . in a fire.”
“You don’t need to hide from me, you’re in my head.”
“I want my head inside you.”
I laughed. “Cheesy much? How did you get injured?”
“I can’t remember . . .”
All coherent thought fled my mind as hard muscle pressed against my hipbone and warm hands circled the swell of my breasts beneath my T-shirt. He wasn’t quite hovering over me – he lay on his side and I on my back curled against his muscular frame. My breath hitched as his finger circled my hardened nipple.
His stare fell to my lips and my mouth went dry. “This has been the best dream ever.” I whispered.
“Yeah, I think I dreamed I was eating chocolate cake . . .”
Slow and steady, his firm lips teased me with lingering pecks. “What’s your name, Dimples?”
“Maddie.”
“Maddie… Why does it feel like I’ve known you forever?” His stare burned into mine.
When his lips met mine again, he deepened the kiss and I melted into him. Intertwining my fingers into his hair, I pulled his solid frame against me. We tangled between the sheets as he kissed, licked, and savored my mouth. I arched into his hard frame. I traced the outline of his back, shoulders, and perfect ass. He caressed me beneath the T-shirt and over my cotton panties for what seemed like hours and my body ached for so much more.
His fingers teased the entrance of my panties. “Can I get you naked again, Dimples?”
“God, yes.” I lifted my arms over my head and he blessed me with one of his wicked grins.
“Made in Detroit, huh?”
“Yep.”
“Me too.”
“All good things are made in Detroit,” I said.
His low rumbling laugh sent tremors down my spine. His face grew thoughtful and with one smooth swoop my black shirt disappeared in the darkness. “I could go for some Better Maid Chips and a Faygo Pop. . .”
“Red Pop?”
“No, I love me some Moon Mist.”
“I haven’t had that in ages.”
“Let your hair down.” Those brilliant green eyes mesmerized me and I became transfixed beneath his stare. My mouth dry, I swallowed hard.
I let my hair tumble over my shoulders, still transfixed with the look of admiration in his eyes.
“Fucking gorgeous.” His large hands cupped my breasts and he lowered his head to suckle.
Pain and pleasure shot from the girls and pulsed in waves of desire to my sex. “Rami,” I moaned.
My hands voyaged the length of his muscular back and ass and I mentally high-fived my naughty subconscious for not even dressing him after the first encounter. Because with a man like this, why would clothes be required?
Taking matters in my own hands, literally, I grasped his hard cock and stroked the ridged peak of him.
“Maddie,” he groaned.
Gratification rolled through me. It’d quickly become my mission to see a sexually needy Rami. I greedily moved up and down his shaft. He rasped a throaty growl and my body liquefied at the sound. Desire burned behind his green eyes and his strong hands gripped my hips.
“Fuck me, Rami.”
“Best. Sex. Dream. Ever.”
I laughed and he chuckled between my legs while he slid my cotton panties down my hips. I bit back a cry when he entered me, pleasure and throbbing desire raged from my sex. I used his shoulders as an anchor and tasted his sweet salty skin, biting down on the tender flesh of his shoulder. The raspy call of his pleasure hummed in my ears. A bolt of electricity shot through me as I adjusted to his girth. I squirmed and rocked until I became full of him. My sex clenched around his cock and red-hot waves coursed through my veins. Every pulse of his erection caressed my clit and carried me closer to climax.
“Fuck,” he groaned.
A sheen of sweat covered my body and my unruly dirty-blonde curls wrapped us. My inner muscles tightened around his erection. He pulled out of me and I missed the weight of him on top of me. He roughly clasped my ankles and my ass floated off the mattress.
He slid back inside of me, paralyzing me with the yearning in his gaze. I could stay this way – frozen in time and swimming in the depths of his green irises. With every stroke his eyes spoke to my heart, claimed and pleaded with my body. Each pulse of his rigid cock was greater, deeper, and faster than the next. My breasts shook wildly and I held on to them for dear life. “Touch yourself, Maddie.”
A low hum escaped my lips and I caressed the slick pink flesh of my clit. He throbbed inside of me. Stealing my breath with every trust. My legs dropped over his shoulders and his hard body pressed into my round curves.
“Let. Me. Taste You.” Each word was followed by a deeper plunge into my sex. Quivering, I lifted my finger to his waiting lips. His naughty tongue lashed my finger and my body jarred with an earth-shattering orgasm. “Look at me.”
Our stares connected – his green eyes filled with admiration. Another wave of the orgasm blasted through me.
“Fuck, Maddie.” My heart swelled watching him unravel. He was magnificence -- powerful, completely unhinged and I was responsible for it.
His comforting weight pressed against my body. I wrapped my legs round him and welcomed him against me. His head rested on my stomach and his coarse hands caressed my thighs.
“Dimples, you’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted from Detroit.”
“What part of Detroit are you from?” I asked.
“West Bloomfield.”
“And you said you were made in Detroit?”
“I was made in Detroit – in a tiny house on Seven Mile and Woodward. Actually, I was the first one of my siblings born in the US.”
“Really? Where’s your family from?”
“Iraq, in a small village called Telkaif.” His thumb moved in small circles over my abdomen and I felt every stroke against my core.
“Iraq?” I bit my lower lip, eager to hear him say something in another language. “Do you speak Arabic?”
“Yup, but my family is Chaldean. It’s also our language.”
Suppressing a moan, I managed to speak. “Say something in Chaldean.”
He said something I didn’t understand, but the way he rolled his R’s and the delectable accent was so flipping sexy. He flashed me a mischievous grin.
“That’s beautiful,” I whispered. “What does it mean?”
“I adore your smile.” He trailed kissed around my bellybutton and I swooned like a lovesick puppy.
“You mentioned siblings? How many siblings do you have?” Something about this intimate moment between us filled a missing part of my heart.
“Two sisters and four brothers.”
“That must be amazing. I’m an only child.”
“It’s good sometimes and then sometimes you want to kill them for always being in your business.
“What part of Detroit are you from?”
“I’m actually from Royal Oak. Now I’m in Caraway.”
“Caraway?”
I lifted my left hand, like the Michigan mitten, and pointed in the area between the thumb and index finger. “I’m right here . . . I just claim Detroit because it’s cooler.”
“Imposter,” he laughed. “We used to get cottages in Oscoda in the summer growing up, that’s nearby, right?”
“Yep – two towns over. I used to spend summers there . . . almost every year.”
“What’s made a city girl move out to the country? I hope my dream girl isn’t married.”
“God, no. I inherited my aunt’s house . . .” The words caught in my throat and though I expected the sadness of my life to pour out of me in waves of misery, it was only a dull ache. “After she passed last year.”
“I’m sorry beautiful . . .” He kissed my stomach.
“Let’s change the subject.”
His head lifted and his eyes stared directly into my soul. Corny, I know, but honestly that’s what it felt like. His stare alone made my insides flutter and rejoice. “What’s your deepest, naughtiest fantasy?”
Heat licked at my core and my heart pounded in my ears. “I’ve always wanted to be tied up.” My laughter sounded husky and there was a quiver in the pitch of my voice.
“What would I be doing to you if I tie you up?”
“Making me come.”
“Hmm. I like watching you come.” He lowered his head and his mouth lingered on my breasts, his wicked tongue thrashing my nipples as they hardened. “I love your breasts.”
“I love your mouth.” I arched my back and pushed my breasts against his lips. His low growl of hunger curled my toes and his fingers found the wetness between my legs. I rocked against his hand.
“What’s your naughtiest fantasy?” I whispered.
“I have many . . .”
“Tell me one.”
His finger slid the slickness from my core and pressed inside my anus. Lust white-hot burned through my entire body and shocked the hell out of me. He’d touched my butt and I’d like it – that had always been a no touch zone – and now my body trembled for more. Much more.
Naughty Nightly Page 2
