by Donna Alam
‘You think I don’t know what I taste like already?’
His eyes darken delightfully as he lowers his head, whispering, ‘You dirty fucking girl,’ before he follows with his tongue, licking my lips clean.
We stumble through the room and down a hallway, my fingers clawing at the hem of his t-shirt before he whips it over his head.
Lord, the man is beautiful.
He pushes me through an open door into a bedroom decorated in the same tones as the rest of the house. The drapes are partly drawn, this side of the house darker than the other rooms. We’re only inches apart as he slides his hands under my butt, picking me up.
He groans as I wrap my thighs around his waist, my wetness meeting his stomach. Next, he exhales a harsh fuck as I flex against him, still drunk from my last climax.
Will lowers me to the bed, getting on one knee between my open legs. Like magnets, my fingers are drawn to the dents in his shoulders and the dips in his forearms. I don’t know what these muscles are called, but I almost wish I’d paid more attention in biology class.
‘Keep your hands still or I’ll tie them.’ True, I am touching him everywhere—anywhere. But it’s hard to resist him and almost impossible not to touch him. And this whole commanding, I’m in charge thing? Hotter than anything I could ever imagine. And, sorry Will, but I’m kind of not in the mood to be told no.
‘Idle hands are the devil’s playground.’ My voice sounds husky and wanton, his abs rippling under my palm as I feed my hand down his body and under his waistband.
‘Right now, you’re my fucking playground.’ He grunts as he pulls my hand out by my wrist, shoving it forcibly above my head. ‘Have you ever been tied, plum? Tied to a bed and forced to orgasm continually? Until you don’t know where you end or where you begin?’
I shake my head, because that sounds . . .
‘Don’t look too excited. It’s not fun the first time.’
‘Are you threatening me?’
‘Let’s call it a warning. Get your hands on the pillow, above your head.’ The images his words paint are sort of astounding. And a little too much. So I draw my hands up the bed, leaving them passive there. ‘Wrap them around the wood,’ he instructs.
I do as I’m bid, wrapping my fingers around the columns. His following words, as he slides down my body, are just a breath over my skin.
‘You look as good as you taste. So warm and inviting.’ This time, he’s not looking at my face, his gaze glued to the open place between my splayed legs. As though to reinforce the point, he slicks the very point of his tongue between my legs.
I squirm beneath him; my clit is still sensitive from my orgasm, and my pussy swollen from his fingers. I twist the lower half of my body away from his mouth, instinctively trying to pull my legs together.
He tsks, a reproachful click of tongue and teeth, though his expression looks anything other than pissed.
‘I thought we agreed I was in charge,’ he says all growly, setting my nerve endings alight.
I open my mouth to respond, a whimper hitting the air as he bites the soft skin of my right thigh. The smarting sensation throbs in time with the building pulse between my legs.
‘Stay still.’
A couple of licks and a few deft flicks, and I’m cresting the wave again, my insides tightening, my hands gripped tight against the wood. And he kisses me, God, how he kisses me. Each press of his lips a little more desperate, a little deeper, until his tongue is entering me like a lover’s kiss. I cry out, needing more, digging my heels into the bed as leverage, thrusting myself into his face.
And then Will just . . . loses it. Loses himself in me. Grunting, he pushes my thighs wide and flat against the bed, spreads me open with his big hands as he begins fucking me with his tongue. We’re loud, so loud, as he works me, the lewd sound of wet flesh, of sucking and grunting, joining the sounds of my pleasure as I cry out.
Spread out on the conference table was good, the threat of being caught giving the experience a forbidden edge. But this, this is something different. Something consuming. My nipples are hard and aching; I want to touch them but don’t want him to stop.
His complete ownership of my body, and the intense motions of flicking tongue and kissing lips. The brush of stubble, and his teeth threatening my clit. His whispered words of how I taste like summer fruit.
Of how he can’t wait to be inside me.
To fuck me. To fill me.
To own me so completely . . .
I don’t hear anything else—don’t see anything else—as I cease to exist.
‘Just look at you. Fuck, just look at you.’
When I come to, Will’s face is hovering over me. He stands at the side of the bed, unbuttoning his fly as he simultaneously slides the drawer of the nightstand open.
I wonder what he has in there. Toys. The man has toys. And rope, I’ll bet. And lube, not that I currently need any, lying here soaking wet.
‘Hey.’ His soft word brings my attention back to him, guided by the finger he lays against my cheek. ‘You okay there?’ I nod, not sure I still have a voice to answer him, never mind find the words to make sense.
Fuck drunk. I’ve hear the idiom, of course. This is what I must be—fuck drunk. And like a self-respecting drunk, I’ll keep my mouth closed so as not to give my condition away.
He drops a couple of condoms next to the lamp, throwing another on the bed next to my hip, but I don’t really pay attention to the implication of the numbers thing as he slides his jeans from his hips, kicking them across the floor.
Shoulders. Abs. thighs. Will has all of these, but we’d already been introduced. But this beast he holds in his hand, we’ve only had a very brief introduction so far.
In the car.
Jesus Christ, Sadie.
I don’t remember ever being responsible for making anyone make that sound. Or ever remembering wanting something so bad.
Instead of climbing on the bed, back between my legs, he surprises me by straddling my chest.
‘You can let go now,’ he says with a smirk, and I realise my hands are still wrapped tight above my head. I stretch my fingers as I lower them, looking at the white indentations in my flesh. ‘A little like rope marks,’ he says, taking them in his own hands and kissing each in turn. Despite the tenderness of his action, the implication of his words makes my heart beat trip. ‘Kiss it,’ he whispers. One hand next to my head, he grips his length with the other, bringing it level with my mouth.
His cock jumps eagerly between us. I open for him, watching his face as he places the broad head of his cock on my bottom lip.
‘These lips were made for kissing,’ he murmurs. The drag of his silken skin is responsible for my scattering thoughts. And responsible for the closing of my lips. I swirl my tongue over the swollen head, make out with it a little as he pulls out a touch.
The sound of his carnal groan—I want to bottle it. I want to take it with me to remind me always of this man’s need. Of how I made him feel. Instead, I lick the tip, then open wider to allow him to slide right in.
‘You look amazing.’ Will’s gaze is story with arousal as it flicks up from where he watches me swallow him down. ‘But this is just a taster. I’m going to come in your mouth. Fuck, yeah. Later.’
An instant later, he backs away, tearing the condom wrapper with his teeth. Watching him sheath himself makes me wish I was still holding the bed frame because my need to touch him consumes me.
‘You like to watch,’ he says, his eyes flaring comically as he holds the condom at the root as though checking for fit.
‘Is that what this is? Just a demonstration.’ My pout makes him chuckle. ‘I was hoping for something a little more real.’
‘It doesn’t get any more real than this, Sadie.’ His expression falters, but seconds later, he’s lining himself up. ‘They don’t teach you in school about what I’m about to do.’
I don’t have time to answer as, one hand on the bed and the other on his cock, he
slips his head through my wetness, causing us both to exhale a shuddering breath.
Then, with one long thrust, he slides himself to the hilt.
‘Fuck!’
The force of his motion pushes the word from my throat, my knees instinctively lifting to his thighs as though to contain the force.
He’s far from gentle, his thrusts a heady mixture of pleasure and pain. If his body is built for impact, mine is built to take the blows, and as his hips snap and flex, he growls dirty promises in my ear.
‘I’m going to make you mine,’ he promises. ‘You’ll be feeling me inside you for the rest of the week.’
His powerful torso undulates above as his thrusts become shallower.
‘Open your legs. Let me break you apart.’
I do just that, spreading them as wide as they’ll go. Each drive of his hips, each flex of his thighs, has my insides pulsing so strongly, it’s like my body is trying to pull him inside.
‘Fuck me,’ he rasps, planking over me to kiss my head. ‘I can feel your pussy clenching around me. Don’t you come yet,’ he adds, picking up the pace. ‘Wait until I say.’
I want to argue—to tell him it’s not up to either of us, that it’s up to my body—but as I open my mouth, I begin to chant.
‘Yes, yes. Yes!’
My throat is too hoarse from my cries, the root of him rubbing my already swollen clit. It’s torture and it’s agony. And it’s the best.
As Will’s body surges above me, he murmurs honeyed things. How tight I am. How sweet I feel. How he can feel every inch of me. How he’s going to make me come so many times tonight I’ll forget what day it is.
I’m begging, I realise, as he drives into me again and again; my fingernails dig into his shoulders as I pray for release. I don’t have words or the brain capacity, but as he dips his head and tells me to come for him, my body answers instinctively.
I feel like invisible threads have tethered me. Tied me down and spread me out across the bed as a burst of white-hot electricity implodes deep inside.
With one last undulation, he seats himself deep. Sitting up onto his knees, he pulls the latex from his length.
‘Open up, Miss Sadie,’ he murmurs with a wicked glint.
Am I surprised. Yes and no.
Am I willing? What do you think?
I lick my lips as he places the fat head of his cock against my tongue. One hand on the wall behind me, he jacks himself until I push away his hand and close my lips around him.
‘You wicked—’
His climax steals his compliments as he pulses down my throat and I swallow every viscous ounce of him.
Will collapses on the pillow next to me, one arm slung in my direction, though not over me, his breathing rapid and hoarse.
But sometimes a girl has got to have the final say, so I turn and crawl under his arm, snuggling closer. He pulls me to his chest, and as I tip my head, he brings his lips to mine. So I kiss him. My plan all along. I kiss him long and hard. I kiss him with his own cum. And he takes it, my lips on his and my tongue in his mouth.
I might giggle as I snuggle into his chest. He lets out a blissful sigh.
‘You know what you are?’ he asks, tipping up my chin. ‘You’re such a dirty girl. And you’re just my type.’
Chapter Eighteen
SADIE
I wake in the early hours with an insane need to pee. The room is mostly dark except for the kind of urban glow found in cities, which casts shadows dancing across walls.
Asleep on his back, Will has both hands pushed under his pillow on either side of his head as he breathes deeply and evenly. On my way back from the bathroom, I take a moment to look at him. He’s moved a little. Still on his back, one arm is now flung out across the bed, the other bent, his palm pressed to his chest.
He looks like he’s about to burst into song
I stand at the side of the bed, just looking at him. Just appreciating the heck out of him. The long line of his body, the pop of his biceps in his sleeping pose. The sheet drawn haphazardly across his waist and the smattering of fine hair peeking from there, sort of drawing my attention to where it’s pulled a little tighter against one of his thighs. And I can’t help but notice the outline of his cock.
Oh, his cock. Yep, my mind totally sighed that, my insides clenching in response.
Feeling a little perverted and a little thrilled, I sit gently on the edge of the bed and pull my phone from my purse, which lies on the floor next to the nightstand. Will must have placed it there while I slept.
I may or may not have a can of whoop ass for you next time we’re in the same room. Liars
This I send to Kallie, greeted by an immediate response.
*Le sigh* I knew it wouldn’t take long for you to work it out. Come on, that kind of fine isn’t available for an hourly rate.
I turn my smiling face from staring down at my phone, my gaze drifting back to the fine sleeping soundly behind me. She’s not wrong about just how fine the man looks, even if the word is one I wouldn’t necessarily use to describe his motivations.
I turn back, the twilight setting on my phone casting an eerie glow on my face in the dresser mirror.
I’m kind of worried about your motivations, I text.
They came from a good place! comes her response. Then, If there was no emotional attachment for you, I wasn’t sure whether you’d find riding that stud a little easier or a little more hard.
I’m hoping it was easy and the hard was all on him, comes her next text, followed by a winky face
In an act of daring, I type out a quick response.
I’m saying this once, and I’m not providing further details. If the man currently lying behind me did provide his favours for an hourly fee, I’d be in debt to you for the rest of my life.
Many hours.
Multiple times.
The little bubbles bounce across my screen, a lot like my nerves. I quickly type an addendum, then power down my phone.
I’d probably have to sell my car to pay you back. Or maybe my soul.
It would be totally worth it, fyi.
I drop my darkened phone into my open purse and turn, lightly tracing my fingertips over the dips and valleys of his abs. A path I’d earlier trailed with my tongue.
Falling into bed with Will is very easy. Keeping my emotions in check is harder.
Bringing my knees up onto the bed, I snuggle up against his warm body, placing my head on his chest. It isn’t long before I’m lulled back to sleep by the sound of his steady, even breaths.
Chapter Nineteen
SADIE
Monday morning, I come to with something hard pressed against my ass, and a wet nose pressed to my cheek.
‘Who let the dog in?’ I complain, pushing Sir Lancelot’s large head away.
‘The day-care people returned him yesterday evening. You were catnapping. Do you know they have a key?’
I nod, pulling the sheet up to my chin.
‘I think the poor girl didn’t expect to see quite as much as she did.’
I push up onto my elbow and wriggle round to face him. ‘Did you wander through the building naked?’
‘Mo would be overjoyed to hear that, but no. I asked her to bring him up here when she called—your phone, by the way. Do you know you sleep like the dead?’ I do know; it’s my secret superpower. ‘I answered the door wrapped in a towel. I wasn’t expecting her to already be in the building.’
‘That’s not too bad,’ I mumble. At least, in my daily life, I wouldn’t mind being met at the door by a towel wearing hunk once in a while.
‘A towel and a hard-on.’
‘Because . . . ?’
‘I woke up to the phone, and you were naked. I think that was right before we fucked for the second time.’
Setting that aside for the moment, I turn to face him and ask, ‘What do you mean Mo would be overjoyed to find you’d been wandering around in the nude?’
‘I haven’t obviously. But yes, he’d
pop a boner, for sure.’
I frown, trying to gather his meaning. ‘He might never let me dog sit again.’ Though, the chances of me coming back to London anytime soon are slim.
‘Nah,’ Will responds, ruffling a hand through his hair as he stifles a yawn. ‘He’s been trying to get my kit off since we were boys.’
‘Are you saying Mo is gay?’
‘What do you think? How many men do you know have pink oriental silk on their bedroom walls?’
‘Ma-rried.’ No need to explain my sarcastic intonation. ‘Mo has gone to get married!’ Kallie said so.
‘The day Mo gets married, both bride and groom will be wearing Armani suits. Unless he wears a kaftan. He’s a bit theatrical like that.’
I make to turn back, though think better of it as every single muscle in my torso tightens. And some a little farther down. Ouch.
‘Listen, Mr Irresistible,’ I begin testily. ‘There will be people you encounter whose clothes don’t fall off just because you shoot them your cocky smile.’
‘Like you, you mean?’ he says . . . breaking out that same smile. ‘It absolutely didn’t work for you, did it?’ It just baffles me how can he smile and frown at the same time.
‘I gave in because you irritated me to death,’ I answer haughtily, flouncing and flailing in the knotted sheet to give him my back. And ow!
‘Ah, irritated to death,’ he repeats, his tone . . . irritating. ‘That’s what I was feeling pulsing around my cock last night. During the night. And a few hours ago. And when I rolled you over as dawn broke, you said you were irritated for me. I must’ve misheard.’
‘Oh . . . go away,’ I huff, pulling the sheet over my head. ‘Don’t you have vaginas you need to attend to?’
‘I’m pretty knackered after attending to yours last night. All night. Woman, you wore me out.’
Under the sheet, I smile to myself. If I’d have thought about the potential for morning-after awkwardness last night, I might not have been brave enough to be here at all. But other than sore body parts, morning breath, and the pointer sticking me in the vicinity of my ass, this isn’t too bad. While under the sheet, it also dawns on me that, if I’d known it could be like this, I might’ve tried out this temporary relationship business before. Though probably not.
