Spanked by the Bad Boy

by London Saint James

  She straightened her spine. “Yes, well. It was good to see you,” she said, knowing it was anything but good to see him. “Give your wife my best wishes.”

  She put on her beatific smile.

  Simon removed his palm from Declan’s shoulder and chortled. “I’ll do that,” he said, right before he sauntered away.

  Without preamble, Declan turned to look at her. “Are you going to tell me about Easy Rider?”

  “I wasn’t planning on discussing him.”

  “I’m sure you weren’t. But I’m planning to.”

  Their sampler platter arrived, and Tiffany was overjoyed by their newest interruption. “Let’s not spoil our dinner,” she said. “We can chat about him later.” Much later. If ever. “Besides, I want to know more about you.”

  Declan smiled, but by the way his eyebrow quirked up, she suspected the Simon interrogation wouldn’t be something she’d get out of. Not completely anyway.

  Declan grabbed one of the plates their waiter had left and handed it to her. “What do you want to know?”

  “Well, for starters, where in Denver do you live?”

  “How about, after dinner, I show you?

  “I’d very much enjoy seeing the place you call home.”

  ***

  Declan’s home wasn’t anything like what Tiffany expected. Nary a discarded pizza box in sight. Everything was nice. Real nice. The modern two-story brick home wasn’t even close to being a bachelor pad. In fact, from all the artwork and tchotchkes, she’d say Declan had hired an interior decorator. Then the thought hit her, as horrible as it might be, perhaps he didn’t really live here. After all, when she was in college, some guy had brought her to a friend’s house and passed the place off as his in order to impress her. Perhaps this was all a front, too, and the house belonged to a rich uncle or a business partner of his. She frowned. She didn’t think he had a business partner. But he might have a rich uncle who would let him use his residence as a decked-out, kinky sex-pad to impress the ladies.

  God. She didn’t think Declan could be that much of a player. He didn’t need to be. And why try to impress her anyway? She was pretty much a sure thing, and he knew it. No. She didn’t think that could be right either. He’d been treating her like she meant something to him, not a sure thing, and there was something kind of indescribable between them. Besides, he’d been nothing but straightforward with her, or at least she really thought so. She figured her whole mind-whirling-out-into-the-stratosphere-of-twisted-suspicions was her problem, no matter how many reasons she had for her distrustful nature.

  Reining in her thoughts, she stared out the wall of glass doors in his living room onto a large covered in-ground swimming pool, experiencing the heat of his body behind her before she heard his voice.

  “I put your leftovers in the fridge, so they’ll keep if you want a midnight snack.”

  “Will I need one?” she asked.

  His breath gusted across the back of her hair when he laughed. “I guess we’ll need to wait and see.” He paused. “Our discussion about Simon isn’t over, you know.” His palm rested on her shoulder. She’d been sure about going to his home, but now she was nervous about the choice, which was ridiculous. It wasn’t as if she were a virgin on prom night.

  “Do we need to ruin this?”

  “No,” he said. “We don’t.”

  “Does that mean I have a reprieve for now?”

  “Yes. For now.” He was quiet for a moment. “I open all these doors in the summer, and let the breeze in.”

  “Mm. You have a beautiful home.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Do you entertain a lot?” she asked.

  “Some. Why?”

  “The way this house is configured around the pool, the rooms opening out to the concrete-and-rock patio surrounding it…. I mean, it seems you would.”

  “I’ve been known to throw a steak or two on the grill for a few of my friends.”

  He brushed aside her hair and kissed her jaw.

  “Are you going to take me on a tour?”

  “Do you want one?”

  No. She wanted him.

  Their reflection showed in the glass, his body towering behind her, his hand on her hip, his head tucked into the bend where her shoulder met her neck…. The faded image of them was tantalizing. And that quickly, her nerves subsided.

  “Maybe later. Kiss me,” she said.

  “I already am.”

  His lips met the sweet spot behind her ear.

  She turned around, looked up at him, and rested her fingers on his chest. “Kiss me, hard.”

  When he took her lips, she thought she might crumple to the floor, but his arms stopped her from giving in to the weakness smashing into the backs of her knees. He pulled her frame into his body, holding her against him, and speared her with his tongue. Their individual tastes mingled, and his tongue made her promises of what he intended to do. Unable to stop, she wrapped her arms around him.

  Declan used his fingers to explore her back. He slipped them up her spine and splayed them between her shoulder blades. The hard heat of his contained erection pressed into her stomach. The thought tugged at her conscience that she should tell him she’d been with him before at a Halloween party a couple of years ago at a fancy Greenwood Village home. She crushed the guilt beneath her feet a second before they left the ground.

  Tiffany was cradled in his arms, the back of her knees bent over one strong forearm, shoulder pressed against his chest. He never stopped the kiss, giving her what she needed as he swallowed her breathy moans.

  His strength called forth the wanton in her as it had in his field office. As it had at the party. She couldn’t admit to being the woman in the Mardi Gras mask. She wanted to be memorable to him, but she had to be memorable for their time together now, not then. It seemed crazy to continue to hide the fact they’d been together in a quick fuck-me-and-leave-me kind of way, but she couldn’t disclose their past. She wouldn’t tell him she’d used him to forget about Simon, to forget about her past. He didn’t need to know everything about her, and he already knew more than any other man ever had.

  People kept secrets from each other, and she would keep hers. She had to.

  “Tiffany,” he said against her lips. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

  She never wanted him to stop touching her, kissing her, being the man she needed him to be.

  “No,” she said, softly, her body tingling with desire, so many desires. “I don’t want you to stop.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Declan and Tiffany’s clothing and shoes littered his hallway. He sat, in only his jeans, on the foot of his bed. Tiffany stood in front of him in a bra and panties. A naughty goddess in skimpy burgundy silk. His gaze rested on the push-up bra, which gave her abundant cleavage. He wanted to place his nose into that cleft so he could take in her floral scent while palming each lush gift to the fullest.

  When she flicked the clasp in the front, releasing creamy-white rounded breasts with hard rosebud tips ripe with need, his dick jerked inside his jeans. He was going to claim her fully. Taste every inch of her body, and make her his.

  Tiffany wet her fingers with the moisture from her mouth and then played with her left nipple, teasing the peak, biting her bottom lip in a sensual tease.

  “I want you to put your mouth on me,” she said. She tugged at her gumdrop nipple. “Right here.”

  Declan’s body buzzed with a need so palpable, it rolled through him in a rumble of lustful thunder. With a guttural, “Fucking hell,” he got up, tore his fly open to release the pressure off his straining dick, and took the two steps to get to her.

  He bent his head, nudged her hand away, and took hold of the nipple between his lips while his hands palmed both breasts, pushing them up, creating the cleavage he loved to see. She moaned and the sound spurred him on, teeth softly tugging at the taut nub before soothing the spot with a pass of his tongue.

  “God,” she muttered as he turned his att
entions to her right breast.

  He sucked, licked, and laved at her before he asked, “Are you wet for me, sugar?”

  “Mm.”

  When he slid a finger across the front of her silk panties and rubbed, he reveled in the squeak she made.

  “Like that?”

  “Oh, yes,” she said in a breath.

  The tip of his digit slid in a smooth glide across the soft material. She worked her hips in rhythm with his touch. He brushed the fingers of his other hand over her breast and pinched the nipple.

  “Yesss,” she hissed.

  When her panties dampened, he stopped and straightened to his full height, hearing her mew of displeasure. He skimmed his thumb along the line of her jaw and met her gaze.

  “I want you to put my cock into this sweet mouth,” he said, thumb swiping along the line of her slightly parted lips, feeling the moisture calling to him.

  She gave him a wicked smile, nodded, and went to her knees, supplicant before him. He moved the hair daring to slide over her pretty face. He had to see her. Watch her part those lips and take his body into hers.

  Seemingly unabashed, Tiffany slid his jeans down his thighs. He stepped out of them and moved forward a step—cock-to-nose with her. She glanced up from beneath her lashes, blue eyes filled with heat. His stout, standing dick flexed and bobbed. Tiffany held onto his manhood, her fingers a welcome sensation, and angled the tip toward her sexy lips. A flash of her pink tongue as it flicked out to taste the drop of pre-cum from him made him groan low in his throat.

  Declan thought he was prepared when she finally placed him into the warmth of her, but he wasn’t. He surged forward. She took him without protest before he gained control and pulled back, slipping his cock almost free. She, apparently, wasn’t going to let him go. She immediately pumped him with her mouth in slow up and down movements, conquering him more with each pass until she had almost all of him.

  He rubbed her cheek, feeling himself inside her. She worked his cock before swirling her tongue around the flared head then made a wet pop noise when she pulled off the end. She tongued his slit, mouthing the wide head. When she did the whole thing over again, a shudder racked him. The woman was fantastic.

  “Touch yourself while you suck me,” he said.

  Her left hand dipped beneath the waistband of her tiny panties, and she did what he had demanded. The scene— her lips stretching as his cock filled her mouth completely, and her hand, partially hidden by her strained panties, rubbing between those lower lips—about undid him. He sucked in a breath and regained his composure.

  “Does that feel good, baby?”

  “Uh huh.” The vibration of her answer added another sensation to the incredible blowjob.

  She rubbed herself faster, no doubt intending to make herself come, but he decided he would have the pleasure of doing it, not her.

  “You will not come,” he said. “Understand?”

  She pulled her mouth from him. “Yes.” Her lips were wet, his cock glistening as she looked up at him.

  He grabbed the base of his dick and stroked himself once, twice…. “More,” he said. “Try to take me all the way this time.”

  She batted her lashes. He knew he wasn’t a small man, but she was game to try, and damned if the thought didn’t pluck at his control once more.

  As he watched her touch herself, she worked her mouth down on him and sent a jolt over his body. When she swallowed, he brushed his fingertips over her throat. She pulled off then plunged down, taking him in so far he worried she’d gag. He backed away, and she looked up.

  “That was good, baby,” he said as she licked her lips. “Stand up.” He helped her up from her knees. “Take off the panties.”

  She traced the tattoo on his bicep with a fingertip before she walked around him. He swatted her ass, enjoying the little “eep” which escaped her.

  Without any playing around, she worked the burgundy material off her hips. Her gorgeous heart-shaped ass and a peek of her pussy appeared as she bent, her good hand bracing herself on his bed, making him change up the game when her panties hit her feet.

  “Wait,” he said.

  She turned to look at him. “What?”

  “Get on the bed.” Tiffany complied, her knees sliding across his comforter. “Go to the headboard, stay facing it, grab on, spread your knees apart, and present your ass to me.”

  Glancing over her shoulder, her grin enticed him. “All right.”

  He observed her hurry to do what he had asked.

  She’s eager.

  She spread her knees apart.

  “That’s it,” he said.

  Her good hand white-knuckled his headboard. She pressed her ass out. He needed to keep his wits about him, but, hell, he wanted to fuck her like an animal.

  “Damn. You are a picture.” The mattress dipped when he added his weight, kneeling behind her. He swiped her hair from her back, placing the dark strands over her right shoulder, taking all of her in before he kissed between her shoulder blades. She jumped. Moaned. He skimmed his teeth over her left shoulder. Nibbled. Worked his mouth back to the slender column of her neck, beneath her ear, and sucked on her earlobe, swirling the flesh around his tongue.

  “Declan,” she uttered, giving him what he wanted to hear—his name on her lips.

  When he kissed her again between her shoulder blades, she squirmed. “Keep your ass pushed out.” She gave him what he asked for. He lightly palmed her right globe then cupped her pussy, reveling in her wetness. His cock ached for her, but the old boy was going to have to wait. He had plans for her delectable body. “You have such a spankable bottom.” He raised his hand and brought it down against her flesh. Her ass jiggled in aftershock. A slight blush appeared.

  “Yes,” she muttered.

  “Oh, yeah.”

  He smacked her ass again. She sucked in a breath. Once again, he spanked her. She gripped his headboard and moaned. At first, his swats were languorous, and he followed each one with the smooth caress of his palm over the rosy spot. But soon those gentle slaps increased into more rapid, more stinging blows.

  “Harder,” she said. “Please.”

  “You like it when I swat this ass, don’t you, sugar?”

  “Uh huh.”

  With the knowledge she did indeed revel in what he was doing, he worked her until her cheeks were hot and rosy. Two more swats and the heat in his hand along with the sight of her fiery red skin made his cock throb.

  “Stay there,” he said. He sank onto his stomach, propped up by his elbows, and tasted the cream of her sex. “Delicious.”

  “Oh,” she uttered, shaking.

  “You will not come. Not until I tell you to, Tiffany.”

  “I don’t know if I can stop myself.” He plunged his tongue into her opening. He was going to eat her succulent sex until she screamed and begged for release. “Declan!”

  He flipped over and lay on his back. “Scoot down.” He took possession of her hips and yanked her over his face. She released the headboard. He placed her pretty pink parts on his tongue. He breathed her in, and the scent of aroused woman filled his nostrils. “Ride my face.” She swayed back and forth. He tongued her, licking her from slit to clit before he sucked and tugged with his teeth on her clit ring, then braced her warm ass, holding her in place.

  “Declan, I need to—”

  “No,” he said.

  He dipped his chin into the well of her as he lapped at her pert tip, rapidly flicking both her clit and silver adornment in succession. Her ass squeezed inside his palms. Her long hair tickled the backs of his hands.

  “Do you want to come?” he asked

  “Yes. God. Please, yes.”

  He sucked her clit. Lightly bit. “Tell me how much you want it.”

  “I need to come so bad.”

  “More,” he said. “I want to hear you.”

  “Fuck me with your mouth.”

  He rewarded her with a swirling twirl on her tight point and then yanked her hips
forward to plunge into her opening.

  “Oh, like that,” she said. He raked his tongue back up to her clit, moving her with his hands, and sucked. “Make me come, Declan. I want to come on your face.”

  “Then do it. Come,” he said.

  “Ahh…yes!”

  Her body quaked, her pussy shivered, and when he tasted her pleasure, he knew he had to experience her come again.

  “Stop,” she said in a breathless pant. “No more.”

  “Not yet.” He continued to work her, tugging her clit between his teeth, nowhere near done.

  “I can’t take it. It’s too much.” Her voice shook.

  “You can, and you will.”

  Tiffany was uber-sensitive to every lash of Declan’s tongue. She’d pierced her clit—a surprise for Simon. Of course, later she was sorry she ever had it done, but now she was overjoyed with her intimate body jewelry. Declan thoroughly knew how to use the dang thing. He’d made her climax twice already, and she was almost there, ready to push over into the oblivion of a third orgasm while he held her sopping wet sex to his face.

  “I could eat this pussy all night,” he said in a hungry voice from beneath her.

  Her legs quivered. Her chest heaved. Her head shot back. She wondered if her eyes were rolling back in her head, then he tugged at her ring with his teeth. The sensation zapped her, and her body whiplashed forward.

  “Oh, God! I’m coming!”

  Her voice was almost unidentifiable, hoarse from all the shouting in sheer pleasure. Shouting she’d never done after a man gave her an orgasm because she’d never had more than one with any man, but, with Declan, she was in uncharted sexual territory.

  Declan lifted her ass from his face, repositioned her until she was sprawled across his massive muscular chest, her legs between his, then rolled her with a mastery which made her head spin. In the next instant, he was notched between her spread legs. He reached, swiped his glistening mouth clean with his palm, and dipped to taste her nipple. He dined on her taut right peak, then left breast, unhurriedly tracing her areola with the tip of his tongue before engulfing her with his mouth, sucking.