Indigo Nights: A Sexy, Contemporary Romance

by Louise Bay

  The door must have been ajar as he pushed it open and urged me inside.

  His suite was huge—a seating area on one side with two large white sofas opposite each other and a dining area on the other side. The lighting was low and moody, and music played softly in the background.

  “Let’s eat.” He took my hand and headed toward the table. There were a number of silver-domed platters spotted across the table for six. He pulled out a chair and sat, pulling me into his lap. “I ordered for us.”

  He lifted the lid on the plate nearest to him and revealed a huge slice of chocolate cake covered in fresh whipped cream.

  “Cake?” I watched him as he took a forkful.

  “You like it, right?”

  Like it? I could eat dessert morning, noon and night. “I do.”

  “I thought we’d start as we mean to carry on. After all, tonight’s all about pleasure.” He held the fork up to my mouth. “Open wide for me.” The pulsing between my thighs was back as I opened my lips.

  The cake was delicious and obviously homemade.

  “How is it?”

  I opened my eyes. I had a tendency to want to block out all my other senses when tasting something great. For a second, I’d forgotten I was sitting on Dylan’s lap. “It’s good, really good.”

  He cupped my neck, pulling me toward him, and licked across my lips. “Hmmm, you do taste good. There was a little something on the corner of your mouth there. I thought I’d help you out.”

  I grinned and took the fork out of his hand, then reached for the cake. “You should have a bite for yourself. It really is good.”

  I held the fork up to his lips. His beautiful indigo eyes bored into me as he hungrily took the mouthful I offered him. He groaned, the sound an echo of the dam bursting inside of me.

  I wanted him.

  My desire sliced through any embarrassment I had at being so close to a man totally sober.

  I dropped the fork and threaded my hands through his hair, watching him watching me. I dipped my head, sliding my tongue along his lips, in the same way he’d done to me. He growled again and pushed his tongue against mine—the chocolate, cream and him mixing together in perfect combination.

  Dylan

  My cock was used to beautiful women, but the one perched on my lap with swollen lips from what felt like hours of kissing was more beautiful than most. My cock agreed as I was uncomfortably hard. Her heavy breasts weren’t helping—neither were the small movements she made against my thigh. Fuck, if I didn’t get myself under control, I was going to come like a teenager as soon as I saw her naked. I growled and reached into her cleavage, pushing my fingers between her breasts, relishing the soft flesh. I wanted my dick to take the place of my hand, but it was too soon. She wasn’t ready. I plunged my hand into her bra and fingered her already hard nipple. She tipped her head back and grabbed my knee.

  “Dylan … I …”

  She was nervous and it was adorable. The women I was used to had bigger balls than most men. “You don’t have to worry about not enjoying sober sex.” It was my favorite kind. I rarely drank, and never if I was planning to fuck. Drinking dulled my senses, and I didn’t want to miss out on anything when my dick was busy. “You’re going to come so hard, you’ll forget what drunk feels like.”

  I yanked down her bra, exposing her breast. She gripped my head. I hesitated. If I got the slightest bit of reticence from her, we’d go no further. I’d have to excuse myself to the bathroom to relieve my aching cock, but I’d stop touching her.

  But she wasn’t trying to stop me. Her fingernails scraped my scalp as I took her nipple in my mouth and sucked. She tasted sweet and began to grind against my thigh as I alternated between flicking and biting, sucking and stroking her.

  Her hands left my head, and for a moment I wondered if I’d gone too far. Her bra loosened—she’d been unfastening it, wanting more. Perfect. I dove back to her tit, reaching for the other. The loosened bra was still in the way, so I reached for her waist, pulling up her top. She held up her hands and I disrobed her from the waist up. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the glorious sight of her uncovered tits. They were full and tight and made for me. I cupped one in each hand, enjoying the weight of them, the way they were almost too big for my grip. A groan ripped through me. I moved her off my lap and stood. I wanted to get a better look at her.

  “You are so fucking sexy.” I kissed her briefly on her forehead as she watched me. Her arms went to her breasts, hiding them. “No. Don’t cover these. They’re mine.”

  She giggled. “I think, biologically speaking—”

  “They’re mine for tonight.” I pulled her arms away and grazed my thumbs against her nipples. “Let’s leave the cake for later. I want to taste you for a while.” I trailed my fingers down her back and led her into the bedroom.

  She lingered at the door. “I just …” She shook her head.

  I removed my shoes and socks and sat on the bed. “Talk to me. What are you thinking?”

  “Well, all that stuff I said earlier. It was true.”

  “Good. I wouldn’t want you to have been lying to me.” What she’d said had been intimate and somehow made her real. I’d hate for her to have been dishonest. I was sick of playing those same old tired games of cat and mouse with women.

  She crossed her hands over her chest and looked at her feet. A memory of a feeling fluttered in my gut.

  “Hey, we can stop and eat cake if you’d prefer.” Perhaps fucking her wasn’t the best idea I’d ever had. She seemed vulnerable, as if she’d been broken and the glue was still setting on her repairs.

  “I’m just nervous. I know it’s not like we’re ever going to see each other again, I just—”

  “Darlin’, I told you I was going to make you see stars. The pressure is all on me. You just need to tell me what you’re enjoying and what’s not working for you. I promise, nerves are the last thing you’re going to be feeling. But if you’d prefer to just talk, then that’s fine. You can tell me what you were scribbling away in that notebook of yours.”

  She gave me a small smile, cocked her hip, released her hands from her chest and shimmied out of her skirt. Jesus, she was every inch the fifties movie star. The rounded ass, small waist and, of course, that beautiful red mouth. “You’re a fucking goddess. Get over here.” Hips swaying, she came toward me. I couldn’t help but focus on the scrap of lace between her legs. I needed to feel her there.

  I pulled her between my knees and sank my tongue in her cleavage, licking up and down the juncture. She cupped her tits, pushing them together, and I almost came.

  I reached for her underwear, tracing my fingers across the top. They were flimsy and I was impatient. I gave them a sharp tug, and as expected, they came free as if they were willing me on. Ripping off a girl’s panties never got old. Discarding them on the floor, I hesitated for just a second before touching her. I was a little nervous. It wasn’t a feeling I had very often, and never when it came to fucking, but she was so goddamn sexy and vulnerable and she’d been so open with me. I didn’t want to fuck this up. I wanted to make her first sober sexual experience special—somehow memorable.

  She circled her hips, pulling me out of my own head, and my nerves disappeared. I ran my hand up her inner thigh; my fingers coated in her lust for me as soon as I reached her pussy.

  Perfect.

  Wet and sweet and, I was sure, tight as a glove. I withdrew my hand and painted each of her nipples in her own moisture. She gasped and gathered up her tits again, pushing them toward me, urging me to take them in my mouth. “Tell me what you want,” I whispered. I wanted to hear her need for me.

  “I want you to suck it off,” she said, her voice breathy and ragged.

  “Oh, yes, I think we’re going to be very well suited.” I liked a girl who got so caught up in what we were doing that there was no room for inhibitions, no room for outside crap to seep in and interrupt our pleasure. I didn’t know why she was nervous. She was perfect.


  I bent forward and took her nipple in my mouth.

  “Oh God, I’m loving that mouth of yours,” she said as her head fell back.

  My hand went to my dick as she spoke. I wasn’t sure how long I was going to last if she was a talker.

  I grazed my teeth over the puckered flesh and she bucked against me. She was so fucking responsive.

  I pulled her onto the bed and slid to my knees. There was something about being fully clothed while getting a naked woman off. Maybe it was a power thing—yeah, it was definitely a power thing.

  I pressed my palms against her inner thighs, parting her legs for me. She squirmed, but I didn’t think it was embarrassment. It was desire.

  I blew against her pussy. “Tell me what you want.”

  She reached over her head as her back arched off the mattress. “I want your talented mouth on my pussy.”

  Oh yeah, she was ready. I groaned and went straight to her clit. Her hips flicked up and I had to hold her still. She tasted delicious. I didn’t often go down on women, but I wanted Beth to relax, to understand she was going to enjoy tonight, that she needn’t be shy or nervous. She just had to give her body to me.

  I dipped my tongue at the edges of her entrance. She wouldn’t have my fingers in her. I wanted her desperate to be filled up and rewarded for her begging with my cock, hard and fast. I didn’t want her spoiled with my fingers.

  I licked up and circled her clit as her hips continued to jerk and bounce. Later I’d have her sit on my face. I wanted to be totally surrounded by her smell, her taste. “You like that, darlin’?”

  Her groans grew louder and her breath shorter. I wasn’t ready for her to climax, not so quickly. When she came for the first time it was going to overwhelm her, and I was going to have my dick in her.

  “God, I love your mouth.” She sounded surprised.

  I wasn’t.

  I pressed against her clit, rubbing the hard nub, and then released her, standing quickly.

  “Hey, I was close. What happened?” She tucked one hand behind her head as she watched me with hazy eyes.

  My gaze followed her other hand as it slid over her breasts, tweaking a nipple and then gliding down her stomach where her fingers found her clit. Fuck, she was spectacular. Creamy white skin and black-as-coal hair.

  I stripped off my shirt. I had to be inside her. I found it difficult to understand why she’d thought she was going to be nervous. She seemed anything but.

  “Take your hand away.” My voice came out a jealous bark. I wanted every inch of her pleasure. It was my job to make her come, and I felt weirdly possessive about her orgasm. It was as if I had a burning need to give her orgasms. Her opening up to me about her alcoholism had created a need in me to get it right for her, to make it good.

  “Make me.” Her back arched as if she were turned on by the thought of what I might do.

  Fumbling, my fingers unable to work quickly enough, I took a condom out of my wallet then stripped off my pants.

  “Oh, Beth, your fingers are never going to be enough for you once I’ve fucked you.”

  Her gaze was on my dick, hard and flat against my stomach. She sat up, her eyes wide. “Jesus. Don’t hurt me with that thing, will you?”

  “It’s all about pleasure, darlin’.” I grinned at her as I slid a condom over my painfully hard dick.

  Turning over, she crawled up onto all fours, her head twisted so she was still staring at my cock. Christ, she might very well turn out to be the fuck of my life. “That’s it, Beth. You know how I want you.”

  I was going to be able to go again and again with her.

  Her tits looked incredible from this angle as they swayed slightly with her impatience. Her ass was raised and waiting for me, and her hair tumbled across her back. I wanted this image committed to memory. I’d likely never see her again after tonight, but the sight of her, ready and waiting like this, was something I never wanted to forget.

  I trailed the tip of my dick from her entrance down and around her clit and back up, coating myself in her juices. For a second I longed to feel her without the barrier of a condom. I shook it off. I never fucked without protection.

  She pushed back, wanting me.

  “Steady there, greedy girl.” I grinned as I grabbed her hair.

  I teased her a little longer, rubbing my tip over her entrance.

  “Please, Jesus Christ. I want to feel—”

  I didn’t let her finish the sentence. I rammed into her up to the hilt.

  Beth

  Jesus. Fucking. Christ. After teasing me for what seemed like days, the man I’d met only a few hours ago was buried so deep inside me I was close to being split in half.

  Getting kissed by Dylan had somehow neutralized my nerves about being naked, sober, with a stranger. I wanted him. Wanted to be with him. Wanted a moment of madness. For the last three years, I’d been scared to enjoy life too much in case it descended into me chasing pleasure at the expense of my sobriety. I’d held onto everything so tightly, in such a controlled way for so long, that it felt good to let go, to breathe, and give in to something that made me feel good.

  After bringing me to the brink two or three times, he’d refused to let me come. I’d always thought I’d never be able to let go enough without alcohol to get me to the point I’d have an orgasm, but Dylan knew exactly what he was doing. It was as if he’d made my body his life’s work, and there was no way I was going to have a problem climaxing. Just staring at his monster cock was probably enough to send me over the edge at this point.

  Finally, he was inside me, unmoving. It was only a fraction away from painful. If I’d had time to think after seeing him naked, I might have backed out. I hadn’t been sure he’d fit.

  Apparently he did. Just.

  “You are so tight.” His breath was heavy against my neck.

  I tried to speak but just whimpered.

  “You okay, Beth?” He sounded concerned. From my hazy memories of sex, my lovers had rarely been concerned with how I was feeling, with whether or not I came. Dylan’s focus was on me and us, and not just him.

  I nodded. “It’s just so … big.”

  He grunted and pushed against my hips. He couldn’t go any deeper. “I’ve never been so hard.”

  His hands stroked along my back as he straightened himself behind me. I shivered as he grabbed at my hair.

  “You ready?”

  Before I got a chance to answer him, he pulled back slowly, then crashed into me. My hand reached for my clit. I needed to get over the edge.

  “No,” he barked. “That’s for me. Your clit, your pussy, your tits. They’re all for me.” He swiped my hand away, but replaced my fingers with his. I twisted my hips against his hand. He thrust once then twice, and in the distance I felt the beginnings of my orgasm begin to gather force. Again.

  My head fell forward as I concentrated on the pleasure seeping into my limbs.

  Holy. Crap. I couldn’t stand any more, but I didn’t want it to be over. “I’m so close—”

  “So soon?” He picked up his pace, pushing harder and deeper as I spiraled into my first sober orgasm and the most intense feeling I’d ever had. I was floating and shivering, as if my body wasn’t mine anymore. It was his.

  Just before I collapsed, he pulled my limp body toward him so I was upright and kneeling on the bed as he pounded into me, as if he hadn’t noticed I’d just had the orgasm to end all orgasms. One arm clasped around my waist, the other clamped at my shoulder, held me in place.

  I gasped. The change in angle was like feeling him again for the first time. I reached back to bring his head to my neck, pushing my fingers through his velvety hair.

  “You thought I couldn’t make you come?” His voice was gritty. “I’m going to make you count your orgasms, because otherwise you’re gonna lose track.”

  He wasn’t going to have to wait much longer for the second. I watched as he pulled and twisted at my nipple, his fingers sending sparks down my legs and out of my t
oes.

  “You’re going to come again, do you hear me? My dick is going to explode this time when I feel those tight walls start to quiver.”

  I’d never had a guy talk to me like Dylan was talking to me. It was one of those things that only happened in porn, but it seemed like the most natural thing in Dylan and it made me pant.

  I bent my knees slightly, meeting his thrust.

  “Oh, yes. You know what you want, don’t you? You want my dick as deep as it will go.”

  And there it was again, my orgasm barreling up my spine. My body juddered, supported in Dylan’s arms, as my climax washed through me.

  “Oh, yes, I feel you. So tight, Beth. So. Tight.” He jerked sharply as his orgasm followed my own as he’d promised. As he’d said, he didn’t lie.

  He didn’t let go as we collapsed, spent, onto the bed.

  His chest heaved behind me and my stomach flickered with the remnants of my climax.

  We lay in silence as our breathing returned to normal.

  “You’re astonishing,” he said as I stroked his forearms. I was pretty sure I wasn’t the only girl that had received that particular compliment.

  He kissed my shoulder. It was such a sweet postcoital gesture, as if we were a long-standing couple. I sighed. I’d forgotten what this was like—what had he called it? Human connection—that was it. Or perhaps I’d never experienced it before.

  It felt good to be held. It felt freeing to be fucked.

  “You okay?” he asked, tightening his arms around me.

  “Yeah. I’m good.”

  He kissed my shoulder again and then moved away, heading to the bathroom. I should go back to my own room. Perhaps I’d take one of those plates of cake with me. I sat up, wincing slightly at the way the muscles in my thighs pulled. I was going to be sore tomorrow. I slung my legs over the side of the bed, trying to find energy from somewhere.

  “Hey.” Dylan appeared from the bathroom. “A little unsteady?”

  I grinned. “Ground-shaking sex will do that to a girl.”

  “Ground shaking, huh?”

  My cheeks heated. He must know he fucked like a champion.