Filthy Scrooge

by Taryn Quinn

  The shell I’d been trapped in cracked and we moved as one. A ghostly version of his face showed in the window, intense and focused on me.

  His fingers coasted up and down my middle. From my hip, along my ribs, cupping my breast, then back down to start again. The song blended into one loop of gentle snaps and tones.

  “Keep your hands there,” he whispered.

  My fingers flexed on the glass, my fingers spreading as he cupped my breast. He tugged my hardened nipple, going from right to left and back again as his other hand slid down the stretchy waistband of my skirt and into my panties.

  No teasing this time. He slipped down, between my thighs. He groaned at the wetness there. I was completely bare and my arousal just didn’t have anywhere to go. I was soaked. My breath rushed out as he slid one finger, then two inside me. Just along the edges at first before dipping deeper, then moving upward to pinch my clit between his fingers.

  He matched the song, his movements almost trancelike as he seduced me.

  I pressed my ass against his cock. It was so hard. There was no denying he was proportional in every way. Thick and long with a curve that made my mouth water.

  A groan fell from my lips.

  I was getting close.

  The more he plucked, pinched, and stroked, the more I tensed.

  “Are you close? I’m getting mixed signals.”

  “I…”

  He circled my clit. “You’re so damn wet. I just want to slide inside you right now.”

  “Yes. Yes, get it over with, please.”

  “Get it over with?” He withdrew his fingers. “This isn’t about getting it over with.” He turned me away from the window. “If you feel like that, I absolve you of any supposed deal we made.”

  “No. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just nervous.”

  I did not want to blurt out that I was a twenty-seven-year-old virgin. The looks I received when I shared that information were enough to kill the mood.

  As if there was something wrong with me.

  Trying to rectify the situation just made it even worse, so I’d stopped bothering. It was easier to work, and forget about dating. I even tried not telling a few men over the years, but I’d tense up so much they’d guess. I wasn’t a very good liar and most men jumped out of bed as if they were being scalded.

  Why couldn’t I find a guy that was excited about being first?

  I’d take a douchebag looking for a notch on his belt at this point, just to get it over with so I could stop freaking out about it. But Linc wasn’t a jerk. And he knew something was up.

  So I did the only thing I could think of. I dropped to my knees in front of him.

  His eyes went stormy and the blue was so dark it seemed black. “Kay,” he whispered.

  This was one thing I knew how to do. Since my life only included foreplay, there were things I had gotten good at. Especially if I wanted a boyfriend for a while.

  Most guys wouldn’t question getting a blow job. In fact, most men were so happy to get one, they didn’t push for more.

  I unzipped his jeans and reached in for his cock. My fingers trembled a little at his size. Did I mention proportional? Gifted perhaps? Yeah, gifted was one word for it. My long fingers looked so fragile around his girth. Short burgundy nails seemed elegant next to his ruddy length.

  So hard.

  A vein throbbed under his shaft and I followed it with the flat of my tongue before I could think about where to start. I looked up at him as I licked my way up to his head and twirled my tongue along the flared head.

  His fingers curled into fists at his sides. I wanted them in my hair.

  He’d said he had ideas about my braids. Would he steer my head to do exactly what he wanted? Would he pull hard? Would he wrap them around his palm?

  God, I wanted to know. I sucked the tip of him into my mouth and his hands went up to lace behind his head. I hummed around him, taking him deeper with every gliding thrust. I stared up at him and my body buzzed in awareness.

  I could usually disassociate myself from what I was doing. Giving pleasure without looking for retribution was as easy as breathing. This was not. Nothing about this felt like the usual act of oral. I stroked my hand down the rest of his length as I took him as deep as possible. With my other hand, I squeezed my breasts halfheartedly. My skin felt as if fire ants were feasting on me.

  “Go under your sweater,” he said raggedly. “Better yet, take it off.” His arms flexed as he held the back of his head tighter. “Please.”

  I sat back on my feet for a moment before peeling my sweater over my head. I knew men were visual, but it felt a little like I was on display. But I did it because it was easier than going back to our original conversation. I didn’t want to give him any other reason to question me—or to think I was a freak.

  “Jesus,” he said reverently.

  The fuchsia pink of my demi-bra pushed my breasts up until they were nearly falling out of the cups. I usually wore matching panties and bra, but my white bra had given up the fight about five minutes before I was ready to go out the door.

  Somehow I didn’t think Linc gave a shit.

  I rose on my knees, my height at an advantage here. The head of his shaft bumped against the curve of my breast. I slid him across the pillowed mounds before lifting him to lick the underside of his cock. Then I took him deep, holding onto his hip as I bobbed over his length, taking him as deep as I could.

  When I peeked up at him, he was staring up at the ceiling. The cords on either side of his neck were tight and his body was tense. I relaxed my jaw and throat until he filled every inch. He roared out a choked plea to God, then his fingers were tunneling into my hair.

  I hummed around him and sucked.

  “Kay,” he said brokenly.

  I pulled him free, my hand stroking with the wetness from my mouth. “Let me,” I said softly. I didn’t give him much choice. I took him deep again and pumped him as I sucked. His cock swelled in my mouth and the first taste of him hit the back of my tongue. His entire body shook as a strangled groan climbed out of him.

  He sounded like a wounded animal and when I drank the last of him down, his head was bowed and his shoulders heaved like he’d run miles. I sat back on my feet, my body buzzy in a way I’d never felt before. Pride burst through my chest as I wiped my mouth.

  There was no relief on his face.

  I frowned. “Linc?”

  “Was there a reason we were racing?” His voice was like gravel.

  I licked my lips. “N-no. I’m sorry.”

  He zipped his jeans and turned away from me.

  My elation for pleasing him turned to a prick of tears. I sucked at this sex thing. So much. It was laughable really, even if I didn’t feel like laughing right then.

  He turned around and dragged me up off the floor. “I don’t want sorry. I wanted to make sure this was amazing for you. And then you… God, Kay. I don’t even have words.” He cupped my jaw, his fingers curling to massage my nape.

  I closed my eyes and simply enjoyed for a moment. There was nothing quite like getting my hair played with.

  “See. This is what I’m talking about. You’re starved for touch. I can see it as you practically purr for me.”

  I stiffened.

  “Then you do that.”

  “Starved is a strong word.”

  “Yeah, well, everything between us feels strong in ways I can’t figure out. From last night on the dance floor to you in my office—there’s been no letting up.”

  “I’m sorry?” I didn’t know what to say to that. It was too scary to agree. Every part of him seemed too big, too intense, and too dangerous to my peace of mind. I wanted this to be a simple one-weekend-stand. I couldn’t even do that right.

  “Stop fucking apologizing.” He lifted me off my feet and curled my legs around his waist with a groan.

  “Holy shit.” Not only was I too tall for most men to pick me up, but he was hard already. That wasn’t normal, was it? My li
mited scope with the opposite sex usually ended with my date, or boyfriend, or whomever ready to sleep and leave me alone.

  It was so much easier than the guy trying to get me off and getting more frustrated the more I tensed.

  He knelt on the bed, pushing me to the top where pillows left me inclined before his arms slid free from me. He rolled my skirt down my hips and whispered out a curse as my soaked panties were revealed.

  “Why are you so smooth here?”

  I swallowed as he pushed my legs open and stroked his fingers over my mound.

  I shrugged, embarrassment flaming my cheeks. “I just don’t have a lot down there so it looks weird. Better to just get rid of it all.”

  He brushed his fingers over the lace covering my pussy. “It’s making me a little crazy.” He pulled the lace over and swiped his tongue along my slit. “I figure it’s only right to return the favor.”

  12

  Scrooge

  My brain had taken a few minutes to reset. An orgasm running over you like a freight train would do that to a guy. I’d had all sorts of plans in mind when I’d brought her into this room.

  She’d dissolved them all with barely a word.

  The moment she’d lowered herself to her knees, I was done. I’d tried to hold out. I wasn’t some punk who let a woman suck me off without returning the favor. Tonight had gone sideways in a number of ways. And not just because she’d taken control of the situation in my own room.

  It was the fact that she’d done it for ulterior reasons that burned.

  I didn’t know her. Not enough to figure everything out, but I knew something was up. And I knew I’d lost her somewhere between showing her the view of my little corner of the world and the spike of pleasure I’d felt run through her at my touch.

  And now, here she was, under me with her huge doe eyes in that limitless blue of a summer sky and I wanted to make everything good for her. Not just the release her body was screaming for. The way she was writhing under me told me more than her words and deflective actions ever could. No, I wanted more than that.

  And fuck if that didn’t scare the hell out of me.

  I settled between her legs, her trembling thighs making me want to rip every ounce of pleasure out of her until there was nothing but my name on her tongue.

  At least that part I understood. I reached my hand up and caught her fingers, lacing them with mine. I pushed her panties to the side and breathed her in. Her knuckles were white from her grip as I lowered my mouth to her soaked pussy.

  I did everything by feel.

  I watched her face as I curled my tongue around her clit. Her mouth went slack when I focused a strong flick followed by closing my lips around the engorged tip. Something told me not to break eye contact even when my neck ached and my shoulders felt too tight from the position.

  I didn’t.

  I wouldn’t break until she did.

  I gripped her panties to hold them out of the way and used the only tool I had at my disposal, my thumb. I slowly slid it inside of her as I sucked and licked. She arched up, tried to dislodge my mouth, but I held firm.

  Linked to her in every way I could, I gave her everything.

  There were no games now. That was this afternoon. Now I knew what she truly needed, even if I didn’t know the way. This stunning woman didn’t know how to let go.

  I used every instinct I had and followed her through the maze of the edges of pleasure until finally, she bucked her hips against my face and I released her hand go to hold on.

  “That’s it. Let go.” My mouth was wet from her and her taste was infused into the air and my tongue until I knew I was in serious trouble. Worrying about that now would just make me insane, so I ignored it.

  I was good at that.

  I slipped my hands under her ass and thrust my tongue into her perfect pussy. I felt her throb around my flesh, her body spasming as hard as her inner muscles. Fuck, they would feel so amazing on my cock.

  The one strangled beneath me on this bed.

  She broke once, then again as she didn’t seem to have any choice. I rose above her, my cock in line with her.

  “Now, for God’s sake.”

  I sure as shit wasn’t going to say no. I reached over to the bedside table and the box of condoms there. I’d always imagined I could finally bring someone here—even if it was a one-night-stand from the village. I just never ended up leaving.

  Instead, I’d just drowned in my sorrows here.

  Tonight, I was drowning in something far better.

  I pulled my jeans down enough to free my aching cock and sheathed myself as fast as possible with my shaking hands.

  Those impossible eyes were slumberous with the aftereffects of her orgasms, but there was a brightness there too. I didn’t know exactly what it meant.

  I moved closer, lined us up, and teased her lips. Christ, they were still pulsing as I slowly sunk into her.

  So hot.

  So slick and perfect.

  So tight. I frowned as her eyes went glassy with pain and she tensed.

  “Kay?”

  “Keep going.”

  “Keep going?” I frowned.

  Her legs came up and around my hips as she pulled me inside her and she shouted.

  “Oh God.” My shoulders locked. That wasn’t a scream of pleasure.

  “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop. I couldn’t bear it.”

  I collapsed onto her, bracing myself on my forearms. “How long has it been?”

  She closed her eyes.

  “Miss Kane,” I said on a near growl.

  “Not here, don’t say Miss Kane now.” Her voice broke.

  “Kay.” I forced my voice to soften even as my raging erection sent signals to my lizard brain that had nothing with sweet and slow.

  “Forever,” she said in a voice so low I almost didn’t catch it.

  “Forever as in a long time and I’m exaggerating, or…”

  “Never.”

  I touched my forehead to hers. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  She turned her face away.

  “No way. You don’t get to turn away from me when I’m deep inside you.”

  A tear rolled down her cheek and my chest constricted. “No. I’m not mad. I just would have made it better for you.”

  “You would have stopped.”

  I leaned back enough to nudge her chin back to face me. “I don’t know about that, but you didn’t give me a chance to find out.”

  She tried to curl into herself, but that wasn’t going to happen. Now that I knew what I was dealing with, I could adjust and take my time with her. Even if it might kill me in the process.

  I leaned down to press my lips to hers. Aggression and the urge to take was so close to the surface. That no one had ever been inside her other than me was enough to drag a caveman part of me to the surface. One that I wasn’t even aware of owning.

  I rocked inside of her slowly. “Easy,” I said against her mouth. “Just like dancing. Move with me.”

  She rolled her hips and I had to close my eyes against the waves of pleasure. Her body gripped my cock as if it had been made for me. And it had been for all intents and purposes. Mine was the only one to fill her and stretch her until she gasped around the fullness.

  Her hands rose to my shoulders, and her short nails dug into my skin. I looked down at her. The little furrow between her brows made me wonder if it was discomfort or if she needed me to move.

  I drew out of her and her eyes flew open. “Linc?”

  I kissed her hard. The kind of kiss she’d reacted to the first time. Direct, uncompromising. I needed her to be with me, and not focusing on the dick trying to invade her body.

  And fuck, I was going to invade.

  Her shoulders relaxed as the kiss went deeper, then I slid back inside of her. She moaned into my mouth. This time, it wasn’t pain-filled. I swallowed the little shudders of breath and glided in and out of her. My body demanded deeper and harder, but I wouldn’t g
ive in.

  Not this time.

  Even if it killed me.

  The curve of her thighs fit my hips like no other. Her long legs clutched me like a lifeline. Sweat rolled between us as I held myself back.

  Her hand slid up the back of my neck and into my hair, her grip punishing as she seemed to search for something more. Christ, I was so afraid to hurt her. I wasn’t a small guy—body-wise or cock. But she wasn’t fragile like some women I’d been with.

  I pushed that thought away.

  Ghosts didn’t belong here—not with her especially.

  She raised her knees and suddenly I was deeper inside of her. She arched up against me and I tried desperately to keep the slow and easy pace, but she lifted her hips and made a sound.

  The little gasp that every man in the history of sex longed to hear.

  The one that said right there, don’t you fucking move.

  Her nails raked down my back and her other hand dug into my ass.

  “Fuck,” she shouted.

  Unleashed, I drove into her until the softly lit room dimmed around the edges and my own breathing became labored. I threw my head back and lost whatever hold I had on this night.

  My spine burned and I came so hard I had to grit my teeth around the utter wringing, pain-filled pleasure of it.

  Please, God, let her have come at least once.

  I didn’t know if it was her or me trembling. Breathing was definitely an obstacle as I rolled off of her, took care of the condom with a tissue, and dragged her on top of me.

  She curled into my chest and buried her face in my neck.

  I felt wetness, but wasn’t sure if it was tears or sweat. When she flattened her palm on my chest and looked down at me, I cupped her face. “Please tell me I didn’t hurt you.”

  She smiled and made a little sobbing noise. “You can hurt me like that daily.”

  I hooked my arm around her neck and hauled her over me. “That better be a good cry. I know girls are weird.”

  A watery laugh was my reward as she slid her fingers into my hair. “Yes, girls are weird. Thank you,” she said with a little sigh.

  “Thank you? That’s a new one.”

  She rose up enough to look down at me. “My V-card is in cinders.”