There's Wild, Then There's You

by M. Leighton

  When the band puts down their instruments to take a break, regular music is piped in overhead. The change does nothing to diminish the enthusiasm of the crowd, though.

  I recognize the unique and soulful voice of Joss Stone. Effortlessly, her sultry voice and the sexy notes seep into my limbs and set my body into motion.

  I lean back into Jet, letting my head fall onto his shoulder. I feel his hands come to my hips, his fingertips brushing my stomach. They tug me in closer to him. Every movement his body makes against me creates a sweet friction that I feel all the way into my core.

  I arch my back and raise my arm to wind it around his neck. I tilt my head to the side when his lips tease the tender skin just beneath my ear, giving him better access. Against my butt, I feel his hardness. Gripping me with his hands, he holds me tight as he grinds against me, sending a shower of chills down my back and an ache into the V of my legs.

  Instinctively, I move my hips back and forth against him. Above the music, I hear his groan at my ear as his fingers bite into my flesh.

  “Don’t do that,” he murmurs.

  “Don’t do what?” I ask coyly, breathlessly.

  “Don’t tease me with that delicious ass and that short skirt. You may care that we’re in public, but I do not.”

  “Don’t do this you mean?” I ask, unable to keep the naughty smile off my face as I arch farther and rub him with my backside.

  “Violet,” Jet warns gruffly, his teeth visibly gritted. “You’re playing with fire. Are you sure you wanna do that?” As he speaks, he lets one of his hands trail down my hip to the front of my thigh where he sweeps it in toward the inside of my leg and drags it up toward my center. I gasp, feeling an almost painful sense of frustration when he stops just short of where I need his touch most.

  “Are you sure you want to talk me out of it?” I ask, closing my eyes against all the people around us. No one is paying us any attention anyway. No one cares how Jet is touching me.

  I could almost pretend we are alone . . . with just the music . . .

  “The only thing I want to talk you out of right now are these,” he says, running his palm up to the bend of my leg, his fingertips just grazing the edge of my panties.

  “You wouldn’t,” I taunt, giving myself up to the night, to the music, and to Jet.

  “Wouldn’t what?”

  “Wouldn’t do something like that in here.”

  “Is that a dare?”

  I smile, knowing I’m safe to tease him. There’s no way he would . . .

  “No, it’s a fact.”

  Jet slides his hand around my thigh to the outside of it, raising it to my hip and dragging the hem of my dress with it. I feel his fingers slipping under the thin band of my panties and clenching into a fist. With one quick jerk, I feel the snap of elastic. I gasp again, in desire as much as surprise.

  “Still think I won’t?” he breathes against my neck.

  I gave in to whatever this is between me and Jet hours ago. Now, there’s no going back. This time, I don’t want to.

  “No.”

  Still swaying to the intense beat of the music, my arm still wrapped around his neck, my body still pressed to his, Jet reaches up under the opposite edge of my skirt and quickly tears the other side of my panties. I feel them drop slightly away from my body.

  My pulse is thumping in my ears, louder than any music in this whole town, as Jet pushes my hips away from his just enough that he can reach up the back of my skirt and tug my panties from between my legs. Slowly, he pulls on the material, the slight friction of the silk over my sensitive flesh making my insides clench in the most delicious way.

  When there is nothing under my skirt but the warm New Orleans air, I hear Jet whisper in my ear. “Now you can walk around all night knowing that your damp panties are in my pocket.”

  “They weren’t damp,” I deny, ignoring the warmth that suffuses my face.

  “You’re so wet for me, baby, I can almost smell that delectable body of yours. Mmm, so sweet.”

  “You’re lying,” I breathe, trapped in the honey of his words.

  “Am I?”

  Bending me sharply forward, his body folding over mine from behind, Jet runs his hand up the inside of my thigh and eases his thumb into me. I can’t stop the moan that bubbles up in my chest and spills from my lips.

  My heart is pounding. My blood is on fire. When Jet straightens, I can feel my body squeezing, begging for more. The ache is almost more than I can withstand. I say his name. It’s the only other sound that will make it through my parted lips. “Jet.”

  When he whirls me to face him, wrapping one arm around my waist and holding me tight against him, I nearly crumble at the heated look on his face.

  With his eyes on mine, Jet brings his thumb to my mouth and drags it along my lower lip before sliding it inside to rake it over my tongue.

  “Still think you’re not wet for me?”

  I swirl my tongue over his skin, loving the way he sucks in a breath, the way his pupils get even bigger.

  “I don’t know. You tell me.”

  Jet pulls his thumb from between my lips. I watch as he brings it to his mouth and slowly licks the moisture from it.

  Inching his face toward mine, Jet asks softly, “Do you know what that tastes like?”

  “What?” I manage.

  “More.”

  His hands move down to the base of my spine, pressing me into him, pressing my softness into his powerful hardness.

  “Tell me yes, Violet,” Jet says, his lips so close to mine I can feel his warm breath on them.

  “Yes to what?” I ask, feeling dazed in the face of such overwhelming attraction and desire.

  “Yes to everything.” Jet flicks his tongue over the corner of my mouth. “Please,” he adds, licking at my bottom lip before pulling it between his teeth to suck on it.

  I feel a tight, throbbing sensation in the lowest part of my stomach, a throb I know won’t go away until I can feel Jet touching every part of me.

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  Jet’s lips take mine in a kiss that leaves my head spinning. The world is a blur of light and color and sound and heat by the time he leads me back out into the street.

  I lose count of how many times he stops, right in the middle of the sidewalk, right in the middle of the teeming street, to kiss me. My whole being is on fire for him. Every touch of his hands, every brush of his lips, every look that he sends me makes me melt on the inside.

  In the elevator at the hotel, Jet is pushing me into the corner the instant the doors close. Kissing and touching, biting and sucking, he throws gasoline on an already raging inferno. When he reaches under the short hem of my dress and pushes one long finger into me, I do the only thing I can. I hang on, tight. To his shoulders, to my sanity, to the feeling that bliss is just around the corner, I hang on.

  “This is all for me,” he moans, thrusting another finger into me, deeper than the first. He pulls them out and rubs the slick tips over my clitoris, pinching it lightly. I cry out, unable to help myself. “I don’t think I can wait to taste you, Violet,” he says, dropping to his knees in front of me and pushing my legs apart.

  I look down, both astounded and more aroused than I’ve ever been. Jet is watching me, his eyes never leaving mine as he leans forward and buries his tongue inside me.

  I throw my head back and grip the rail with all my might, determined not to melt into a heap. Jet swirls his tongue over me before he stands again, just in time to nudge my dress down and turn to face the doors. Seconds later, they slide open.

  I walk on rubbery legs to our room. Once inside, where the world is quiet and the air is cool, Jet sweeps me into his arms and carries me to my bed. Gently, he sets me on my feet at one corner of the mattress.

  “Do you know how much I want you, Violet?” he asks, his lips teasing my chin and my throat while his hands roam my back. “Do you know what kinds of things I’ve dreamed of doing to you?”

  His words
are an aphrodisiac unto themselves. I close my eyes, concentrating on his hands and his mouth.

  “Tell me.”

  “I’ve dreamed of what your face would look like the first time I take one of your nipples into my mouth.” As he speaks, his fingers nimbly work the clasp at my shoulder, loosening it and letting the bodice fall away from my chest. I feel the pucker of my nipples against the cool air when he leans back. “God, they’re even more perfect than I imagined,” he says, cupping my breasts in his palms. “Now I’ll know just what it feels like to slide my tongue between them.” As he speaks, I feel his lips move against me and then the wet heat of his tongue as he traces my cleavage. “And if your face looks like I imagined.” My knees nearly buckle at the first touch of his tongue to me. He laves my nipple before pulling it into his mouth to suck on it. I thread my fingers into his hair, holding him to me. “Even better than I imagined,” he declares, moving his attention to my other side, to toy with the other one. “Mmm, you like that don’t you, baby?”

  “Yes,” I answer.

  “Just wait,” he murmurs against me, his hands pushing my dress down over my hips. When I’m standing before him in nothing but my heels, Jet urges me to sit on the corner of the mattress. He nudges my knees apart, my legs dropping over either side of the firm surface. “I’m gonna make you come, Violet. So hard that your body goes limp. So hard that I can feel it when I stick my tongue inside you.”

  Again, Jet kneels between my legs, placing his palms against the inside of either thigh and pushing them farther apart. As I watch, he presses kisses from my knee to my groin, growing ever closer to the throb that he alone put in me. When he leans slightly forward to run his tongue down my crease, I jerk, unable to control the contraction of my muscles. I gasp, and Jet pulls me toward him, sliding his tongue inside me, licking me from the inside. I throw my head back, resting my weight on my hands behind me, lest I fall back on the bed.

  Jet moves his hands under my butt and grips me tight, picking me up and holding me up to his mouth, open and ready. With his lips and his tongue, he savors every inch of me, inside and out. When the tension in me builds so high it takes my breath, Jet seems to sense it, quickening his movements, flicking his tongue over me until something inside me bursts and I come apart in shards of sparkling glass and light.

  As if he knows exactly what I need, Jet moves me against his face as wave after wave washes over me. I feel him in all the right places, licking and sucking, nibbling and biting. I don’t know when my arms gave up, but when my body settles back down to earth, I’m lying flat on my back and Jet is kissing the insides of my thighs.

  “I could eat you for breakfast every day and never get tired of it,” he says, dragging his tongue up the crease of my leg where it joins my hip. Tentatively, he eases the tip of one finger into me. “I could feast on your body, every juicy part of it, until you begged me to stop.” I feel my muscles sucking at him, already ready for him to fill me up, to bring me to the edge again and push me over. “Mmm, that’s what I like to feel. I want you sucking my cock from the inside. I want you squeezing it so tight, you can feel me throb when I come inside you.”

  Already, my body is getting tight again, tense. Ready. I feel the gush of warmth when he moves his finger in deeper, eliciting a moan from me. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To feel me coming inside you?”

  “Yes,” I breathe, my eyes still closed, oblivious to everything except Jet’s hands and voice.

  “To feel the hot gush of it, way up in you?”

  “Yes,” I say again, getting more excited by the moment.

  “Are you on the pill?”

  “No,” I answer reflexively, feeling a bit confused as my muddled brain tries to make sense of anything other than what I’m feeling.

  “It’s okay,” he says, his touch leaving me briefly as he searches for something. I can hear the shift of cloth, so I lift my head and open my eyes.

  Jet is pulling a condom from his pocket. I watch as he stands to unbutton his slacks and push them down his legs. His boxer briefs follow, leaving him naked to my eyes. The tails of his shirt fall to the tops of his thighs, but it doesn’t hide anything. As big around as my wrist, I can see his hard length rising up from between the two halves of his shirt, standing strong and long, making me ache for him all the more.

  I can’t take my eyes off him as he unwraps the condom and rolls it from tip to base. I know this is going to hurt. He’s huge! But it will be a good hurt, one my body is more than ready for.

  When Jet’s movements still, my eyes flicker up to his. He winks at me. “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you unless you ask me to.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  Jet drops to his knees again, sitting back on his haunches. “Come here,” he says, opening his arms. I sit up and start to slide off the bed. “Stand up first,” he instructs, so I do, unwittingly putting the apex of my thighs right at the level of his mouth. “Just like that,” he says. “Now spread your legs.” Heart beating faster again, I do as he asks. I resist the urge to throw back my head again when I feel his fingers teasing me farther apart. “Do you know what I love to hear?” he asks.

  “What?”

  “That little noise you made when I sucked you into my mouth.” He’s looking up at me, his fingers teasing me, making me want to grind my hips against them for more pressure. “My cock throbbed to be inside you at that exact moment.” I feel myself falling under his spell again, unable to think past what he’s saying, what he’s doing. “Bend your knees,” he whispers. I don’t question him. I just do as he asks, bending my knees. I feel his hands slide up the outsides of my thighs, guiding me over his legs until I’m straddling him. I can feel his length pressing against me.

  “Now I can touch you as much as I want,” he says, teasing my clit with the pad of his thumb. “And I get to watch your beautiful lips tremble when you come. Because you will,” he whispers, his mouth finding one aching nipple to suck as his fingers bring me to the brink.

  I’m barely aware of it when Jet winds one arm around my waist and lifts me. I only know that when he eases me back down, I feel the most delicious fullness at my entrance. I gasp, my body once again begging him for more. When I hear the air hiss through his gritted teeth, it only makes me throb all the more.

  A little farther, he moves me down over him, his thumb still playing between my folds, his tongue still teasing my nipple.

  “God, you are so wet,” Jet groans. “And so hot.” He eases me down even farther. “And so . . . oh God! So tight.” He pants, his hand moving around from my front to my backside. He reaches between my legs and spreads me from behind. The action tilts me forward on him, bringing my most sensitive part in contact with his body as he rocks me on top of him.

  The more he moves me, the more friction he causes, the more I want to move on him. And the less control I feel like I have over my hips. I’m gyrating against him, the tension ratcheting ever higher, when I hear Jet growl. Lifting me, I feel him bite my nipple as he drops me down onto him.

  The world stops spinning. The air stops flowing. I’m invaded by him. Completely. And he’s wrapped in me. Completely. I cry out in the most exquisite pleasure I’ve ever experienced.

  Jet goes perfectly still. “Did I hurt you?” he asks, his voice strained.

  “No. Oh God, no!” I moan.

  “Good,” he says, withdrawing and thrusting again, going a little deeper.

  I arch my back, taking in more of him, wondering how much is left. Jet’s hands find my hips and guide me up on him, almost completely off, and then pull me back down, impaling me on him again.

  My head spins with the intense pleasure of it as Jet urges me into a rhythm, long, deep strokes up and down. His hands are touching everywhere. His lips are kissing everywhere. His tongue is teasing everywhere. I move on him faster and faster, harder and harder, inflamed by the sound of his voice as he whispers dirty things to me, dark and naughty things, thrilling me with each one.

 
Needing to do something with my hands, needing to feel every inch of him against me, I reach for Jet’s shirt, my fingers fumbling with the tiny buttons. Jet murmurs against my breast, “Tear it.”

  Some small part of me questions the wisdom of it, but not enough to stop. With a freedom I don’t often feel, I fist my fingers in the smooth cotton of his shirt and jerk, laughing as the buttons pop off.

  “Oh, God,” Jet groans, his fingers biting into the meat of my hips, making me swallow my laugh on a moan.

  “Did you like that?” I ask, feeling him grow even harder inside me.

  “Yes.”

  I see the low light glimmer in the gold hoop at his nipple, drawing my attention and my hand. I reach for it, tugging gently. I hear his hiss, I feel his pulse as he grinds my hips onto his.

  Leaning down, I flick his nipple ring with my tongue as I tease the other one with my fingers, pulling and nibbling, reveling in the way Jet reacts. It makes me feel sexy and powerful and wanted.

  He increases his tempo and I straighten, moving harder and harder on top of him. I feel his fingers back between us, playing with me, torturing me, until I feel like I’m losing my mind.

  All at once, Jet sucks my nipple hard into his mouth, holds me tight and flexes his hips, driving his body deeper into me than I thought possible. I move on him, crying his name.

  “God, yes,” he moans, “ride me. Take every inch of it. Come all over me.”

  Sliding up on him, I fall back down hard, another orgasm tearing through me like a runaway freight train.

  Jet holds me down on him, grinding his hips up into mine, increasing the friction and driving me wild. I feel him stiffen a fraction of a second before I feel the first throb. Jet wraps me tighter and jams his body into mine once, twice, and then for a third time, holding me against him as he gives in to his own release.