She laughed, backing away. “Careful? Why are you warning me? Do you think I don’t know what will happen if I keep doing that? Just because I’m a good girl who doesn’t swear doesn’t mean I’m totally innocent, Roman.” She bit her lip, stroking me with her fists again. “I happen to know exactly what will happen and I’m taking you there on purpose.”
I had no answer for that, so I just watched her continue to slick her fists down my length in a slow, hand-over-hand motion.
She didn’t stop her stroking, this time. “How do you feel about me, Roman?”
“Ah, the hard one.”
She laughed. “Are you talking about this,” she squeezed my cock, “or the question?”
“Both.”
“Doesn’t have to be a hard question, Roman. Just answer it honestly. I’m not after the right answer, just an honest one, as fully articulated as you can manage.”
“How do I feel about you?” I closed my eyes to try and think, but her slow, sliding hands made it difficult. “I really like you. I don’t mean that as a cop-out—I honestly just don’t like most people. The big reason I’ve never had a relationship is because I’ve never come across a woman I genuinely liked enough to want to spend that much time with her. Meaning, I’m genuinely interested in who you are as a person.” I paused again to think, focusing on my next words instead of the feel of her hands gliding up and down, up and down, so slowly it was maddening. “I respect the fact that you held your ground with me, that you stood up to me being a dick. I appreciate that you weren’t just playing hard to get as a game, but that you refuse to compromise what you want. I respect the fact that you know what you want with me, and that you’re not shy about it—and I’m talking about the emotional component of this thing. You were honest about what you want, physically, and what you need emotionally, and you’re not afraid of getting hurt.”
“I’m terrified of getting hurt, as a matter of fact” she corrected. “What happened with my ex hurt. And I already feel more and more deeply for you than I ever did him, and this thing with you and me is barely even a thing.” Her eyes met mine, and she paused the moment of her hands. “You have the capacity to really wreck me, Roman. You should probably understand that.”
“So, no pressure,” I laughed.
“Right, no pressure,” she said, laughing with me. “Glad we’re on the same page. So. What else?”
“What, you want more?”
She smirked, one eyebrow popped, an amused but also somehow erotic expression. “Always.”
“Well, in that case, I’ve got plenty more.”
She leaned down, tits brushing my belly again, fitting her lips around the head of my cock, mouthing it like she would the tip of an ice cream cone. “Is that right? How much more have you got for me?”
“More than you could handle, babe,” I growled.
“You think so? You think I couldn’t handle all you can give me?” she asked, stroking me, plumping and pumping. “I think I can take everything you have to give and still want more.”
“Is that a challenge?” I asked, breathing raggedly, now.
“You bet it is. Give me all you’ve got, Roman. No holding back, no protecting me from yourself.”
“You sure you know what you’re taking on, Kitty?”
Her eyes blazed—the sweet, innocent little Kitty had a core of steel to go with her heart of gold. “Try me.”
“Fine, as long as you’re sure you know what you’re getting yourself into.” I sucked in a breath, going for broke. “How, I don’t know—I barely know you, we just met, this our first real date outside of your apartment…but I’m absolutely falling for you, Kitty Quinn. I don’t even know if Kitty is your real name or a nickname. I don’t know your middle name, or your parents’ names, or if you’re an only child.” I held her gaze, let her see that I couldn’t possibly get more vulnerable than this. “But I’m falling for you. I want to be with you all the time. I want to know everything about you. I feel like a fuckin’ sappy-ass pussy saying all this, but somehow it’s all fuckin’ true.”
“I don’t think there could possibly be anything more macho or sexy or a turn-on than a big, gorgeous, muscular man like you being strong enough to articulate your feelings.”
“Well, regardless of how either of us feel about it, there it is—my feelings for you, put out there, come what may.” I growled wordlessly as she sped up the pumping strokes of her fists around my cock. “And now you better quit teasing me and get on your hands and knees so I can finish what you’ve been starting for the last twenty minutes.”
“I had a different idea, actually,” she said, her smile sweet and sultry at the same time. “How about you just lay there, keep still, and trust me?”
“I don’t hold still well, and I’ve been laying here giving you time to do what you want without moving for a long fucking time. I’m about done with waiting, Kitty.”
“Just trust me a little longer?” She bit her lip, smiling, draping her breasts against my chest in a sinuous dance of her upper body. “Just let me have my way for a few more minutes? Please?”
I grunted in frustration. “You’re killin’ me, Kitty.”
“You’re not the only one who finishes what you start, Roman.”
Oh shit. This girl is killing me.
13
Kitty
* * *
I love the taste of Roman’s cock in my mouth and the feel of him leaking against my tongue. So soft, yet so hard. Velvety. Salty, smoky on my tongue. Warm against my lips. This was the most incredible sensation I’ve ever felt.
He groaned as I cupped his heavy yet delicate balls in my hands, massaging them while I gently sucked the end of his cock. The look in his eyes was unforgettable.
I’m going to make him come, and he won’t be able to stop. This female power is unlike anything I have ever experienced in my life; my heart is pounding, but my nerves are settling and now I feel two things above all else: excitement, and wanting to please Roman in a way he’s never felt before.
With his hands behind his head, teeth clenched and jaw grinding, I can tell he was already affected, and was struggling to hold back. I was gambling on being able to break through that control and get him to let loose. Primal Roman is scary, but also makes me so horny I can barely breathe.
I took him into my mouth, tasting his flesh, my jaw stretching to accommodate him—he sucked in a breath and held it, curling forward, abs tensing, to watch me slide my lips further down his erection. I came back up, fluttering my tongue against the side of his cock, licking the top. I did it again, going down, slowly, trying to take more of him. As I felt him at the back of my throat, I couldn’t stop a gagging sound.
“Don’t, Kitty. Not that far.”
I keep my eyes on his, draping my hair to one side to give him a full view of my mouth as I take him even deeper, gagging once more.
“Kitty, I said don’t,” he growled. I did it again, just to provoke him, and he snarled in frustration, pulling away and pushing me off him. “You’re not listening, goddammit.”
I shook my head, not letting him get too far away, or out of my grip. “No, I’m not. What if I like it?”
“Bullshit.”
I laughed, not willing to argue that point, because he was right. “Maybe I just like pissing you off.”
“Well, not listening to me is a quick way to do that.” He was sitting up, further toward the middle of the bed.
I crawled onto the bed, kneeling over him, pressing my palms against his chest. “Lay down, Roman.”
“Don’t do that again. I don’t like it. You gagging yourself isn’t sexy to me.”
“It’s not? I thought all guys liked that?”
He shook his head. “Just ’cause it’s in stupid porn flicks doesn’t mean all guys like it. I get off on you feeling good. You doing something to make yourself uncomfortable or whatever because you think I’ll like it is stupid.”
He was still sitting upright on the bed, ignoring my efforts to push him ont
o his back. I tried a different tactic. I crawled onto his lap, straddling him, my hand reaching between us to caress his length, pressing my breasts against his chest, kissing him all over—chest, neck, chin, forehead, cheeks, lips, shoulders.
“Lay down, Roman. Please?”
“No more of the gagging bullshit.”
“I promise.”
He slowly lowered himself onto his back, arms behind his head again. I grasped his forearms, bringing his hands forward, guiding them to my hair. I smiled at him, licking my lips, and then bit my lip, just for him.
He snarled. “Dammit, woman. You know what happens when you do that.”
I nodded, my lip between my teeth. It felt totally natural to me to cup my breasts, framing them for him, dancing, swaying, undulating as I lowered myself over him again. He groaned, a long, drawn-out moan as I wrapped my lips around him, kneeling between his thighs. I curled my fingers around him, tilting him away from his body. He brushed my hair away from my eyes, out of my face, and then caught the mass of it in his fists and piled it on my head, holding it in place with both hands.
I glanced up at him through lowered lashes, and his expression was fraught, frightening in its intensity. His muscles were swollen and heavy, tense. His breathing was fast and deep, and he was sucking in great lungfuls of oxygen, as if barely able to breathe. His fingers dug into my scalp, and with each successive stroke of my lips and tongue over his cock, he gradually began encouraging me more and more, faster and faster, with the gentle guidance of his hands.
Now his breathing was ragged, and it was easy to see that he was beginning to lose control.
“Fuck, Kitty.”
I fisted one hand around the root of him, pumping him, using my other to cup his balls, massaging them. “I really like it when you talk about your feelings, Roman.”
He laughed. “This feels like blatant manipulation, Kitty.”
“It is. I’m okay with that, if it gets you to talk to me.”
“You really gonna do this?” he growled.
“You have a problem with that?”
“Fuck no.” He palmed my cheek. “But I need to be inside you again, Kitty. I need to feel your pussy clenching around my cock. I need to get you screaming again. But if you want to do this right now, then I’ll let you.”
“You’ll let me?” I laughed. “How generous.”
“Yeah, I’ll let you.”
“I’d like to see you stop me.” I bent over him. “You know you can’t handle it when I do this.”
I took him into my mouth, tonguing him all the way, stroking, pumping him faster and faster.
“Dammit—goddammit.” He buried his fingers in my hair, tangling, pulling me down onto him. “Think I can’t stop you if I want to?”
I just made a face at him as I continued to bury him in my mouth.
“I’ll stop you.”
I was using both hands now, one fist above the other, with just the head of his cock in my mouth, sucking in short, fast, shallow strokes. He was groaning, eyes closed, head thrown back, every muscle rock hard, hips flexing upward, every inch of his gorgeous, perfect body attuned to me, responding to my ministrations.
No, he couldn’t stop. He was mine—I was in control. If I stopped now, he’d beg me to keep going. If the situations were reversed, he’d make me beg just to prove the point, but that was his thing, not mine. I just wanted to see how good I could make him feel. I wanted him to lack all ability to breathe, to think, to move. I wanted to give him all the pleasure I could. No games, just pleasure.
He moaned, a surprisingly soft, quiet sound. Not at all macho or gruff. Just a raw, unfiltered response.
Such a turn-on. The sound made me shiver, made my core flutter, my center—my pussy—go hot and damp with desire.
I moved faster, using more of my mouth and deeper slides of my fists.
His next sound was…broken. A raw, ragged gasp as he thrust his hips upward, completely helpless now.
He was on the edge, undeniably. His fists bunched in my hair, tightening their grip so it was almost painful, guiding my bobbing movements in a way that told me he wasn’t even aware of what he was doing. I used my tongue, flicking and licking with each stroke, twisting my hands on the way up and plunging them down, faster and faster.
His eyes flew open and met mine. “Kitty—fuck—fuck, fuck. You don’t want this, stop now. I’m ridin’ the edge, sweetheart.” He flexed his hips, pumping into my mouth. “Ohhh fuck. Gonna come, now, Kitty. Right now.”
I tasted essence, a leaking tease of what was about to happen. I didn’t stop. God, no. I kept going. I wanted this, wanted him beyond all ability to hold back.
“Fuckin’ hell, Kitty. Fuck!”
He really liked that word, I noticed. Especially as he got closer to letting go.
“Fuckin’—fuck! Kitty—I’m coming—” He tugged my hair twice, but didn’t let go, not forcing me on him, but encouraging. Helping me. “Ohhh—ohhhh fuck, Kitty! Kitty, Jesus, Kitty.”
I tasted him, then, in a blast of hot salty warmth filling my mouth, flooding my taste buds, and I had to swallow hard and fast, gulping loudly, but I kept going, kept taking him, kept taking his pleasure for myself. His groans were primal and helpless, and his fingers in my hair were strong but gentle. More and more, he came and he came, filling my mouth again and again, the taste overwhelming but not unpleasant—it was the texture more than anything that I didn’t love. But nothing could stop me from bringing him to the furthest boundary of his ecstasy, my fists pumping in a blur, mouth plunging downward in loud wet slurps. I didn’t stop even when he did, but he pulled me away, lifting me bodily off of him and tucking me into his chest, wrapping his arm around me.
He was trembling all over and his heart was pounding in his chest.
“Good and holy motherfucking goddamn, Kitty,” he gasped, after a long helpless moment of panting. “You—that was—holy fuck.”
I kissed his chest, resting my chin on his pec and gazing at him. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
He laughed. “Enjoyed? Hell, woman—I enjoy burgers and beers and seeing the sunrise from twenty thousand feet in the back of a noisy-ass cargo plane. I enjoy watching action flicks and eating popcorn. That, what you just did? There ain’t words for it.”
Giddiness flooded me, along with pride and satisfaction and sensual enjoyment in my ability to give him that. After a few moments of comfortable silence, our eyes locked, and silently we exchanged ideas and thoughts and emotions neither of us had the words for. Something amazing had just happened for both of us, and we were content to drift among our own thoughts, thinking about what it all meant.
After several minutes, my chin still on his chest, I told him the things he said he didn’t know about me. “My full name is Katerina Maureen Quinn; my parents called me Kat until I was six, and then one day my dad called me Kitty as a term of endearment, and it just stuck, and I’ve been Kitty ever since. My best friend and roommate Izzy calls me Kit-Kat sometimes. My parents are John Albert and Maureen Tisdale Quinn—my mom goes by Mo.”
“Tisdale?”
“It’s a family name, and she hates it. She’d actually be pissed at me for telling you. She made a game out of making my dad try to guess her middle name for the first six months they dated. They’ve been married thirty-nine years. My dad is a philosophy professor at UAA, and my mom is a kindergarten teacher at the same elementary school she and I both went to. I’m an only child, but I have three cousins—Alex and Ginger on my mom’s side, and they live in Fairbanks, and Riley on my dad’s, and she lives in LA.”
He nodded, absorbing the information. His hand was resting on my back and smoothing in slow, caressing circles. He smiled at me. “Tell me something you think would scare me.”
I stared at him; surprised he’d ask that. “Wow. Going for the deep stuff, huh?”
“You pulled me into this, Kitten, so now I’m in it. No backing down now.”
I frowned. “You think I pulled you into it?”
He shrugged. “Not in a bad way. And it honestly wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t encouraged me. I’d’a been too pussy.”
“Fair enough,” I laughed. “So, something I think would scare you.” I thought for a moment. “Okay. I want to get married, and I want to have kids. Not soon, necessarily, but I do. And I want it in that order—get married, and then have kids.” I ran my hand over his chest, enjoying the feel of his huge, hard muscles under my palm. “I don’t want a big, elaborate wedding. Mom, Dad, Aunt Leah and Uncle Drew, Aunt Mackenzie and Uncle Kevin, my cousins, and the Badd clan.”
“You’ve thought about it? Your wedding?”
I laughed. “Well, yeah. Just about every girl does, I think. When I was a little girl, of course, I wanted a big dramatic fairy-tale wedding with swans and paper snowflakes and glitter. But now, I just want it to be…meaningful. Sweet, sincere, and simple.”
“Swans are mean,” Roman grunted. His eyes twinkled, though. “Simple sounds good.”
I watched him for signs of panic. “So…does that scare you?”
“You expecting me to propose, like, next month?”
I laughed. “God, no.”
“Then, no. I knew you wanted a ring and kids—you said that was part of why you and your dumbass ex split up.”
“He wasn’t a dumbass.”
“He was if he had you for eight years and couldn’t decide if he wanted to marry you.”
“It’s okay, Roman. You don’t have to butter me up anymore.” I said it with a grin that told him I was kidding.
“I’m not buttering you up, goddammit. Just telling you the truth as I see it.”
I reached up and palmed his cheek. “Roman, calm down, jeez. I was kidding.”
He cracked a grin and I realized he’d been having me on. “Got you.”
I smacked his chest, cackling. “You do have a sense of humor! I was starting to think you didn’t.”
“I’ve got one, it just tends to make use of curse words and insults.”
“I’ve noticed,” I said, dryly.
He reached low, grabbed my backside, and pulled me up onto him, cupping a double handful of my butt as he lay me on his body. “Now. How about you scoot up here and sit on my face so I can see how loud I can make you scream.”
Badd Kitty Page 21
