by Faye Avalon
He placed his hands on her arms and stood, bringing her up with him. Pulling her close, he kissed her again. His erection prodded her heat and she instinctively widened her stance to accommodate his size.
Without thinking, Gina wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, wanting to feel every part of him make contact with her body. His tongue pushed forward then retreated, over and over, and her urgent keening sounds echoed off the walls of the room. What the man was doing with his tongue mimicked what he would do with other parts of his anatomy as soon as he was inside her. The thought drove every last doubt from her mind. She wouldn’t think about anything anymore, only the two of them. Here. Now. Together.
After long agonizingly erotic moments, during which her heart thumped against her ribs, he drew back. He reached around her and released the few tiny buttons securing her dress. Moments later, the fabric pooled around her ankles.
He eased her back a few inches, eyes gleaming with desire as he took in the matching bra and panties. When his gaze lingered on her crotch, she wondered if, despite the soft lighting, he could see how damp she was. She didn’t have to wait long for her answer.
“You’re wet.” He ran his finger slowly over her abdomen, making her muscles clench against the lightness of his touch. “Is that for me?”
“I don’t see anyone else here.” She glanced down at his pants and the telltale bulge of his erection. “Looks to me like you have your own brand of action going on. Is that for me?”
He grinned and she had no sooner returned it when he coaxed her to her knees again, dropping down to join her. Pressing her gently back, he made her assume her earlier position arched over the ball.
Pressing open mouthed kisses to her flesh, he moved along her jaw, down her throat. He kissed along her cleavage before brushing his lips lightly along the curve of each breast. Her nipples ached for his touch, for his mouth, but the damn man didn’t go anywhere near them. She thrust her breasts up into his hand.
“What’s your hurry?”
“You’ve got me semi naked and arched back over a damn stability ball,” she said sharply, annoyed because he seemed in perfect control while she was close to begging. “Since I know what your end goal is, I’m just wondering why the bloody hell you don’t get on with it.”
She reached for his trousers, but he clamped a hand over hers. “This time my pants are staying on until I say so.” As he spoke, he pressed her back against the rubber. Leaning down, he kissed her breasts through the lace and once again she thrust up to meet his hot mouth.
He reached a hand into her bra, his fingers cupping warm, willing flesh, while his thumb flicked over her hard bud. Finally, he released her bra. She wanted to moan with relief but his mouth claimed hers with such ferocity she didn’t have the chance. His greedy hands were all over her naked breasts, his thumbs working the hard nipples. He had the most amazing hands—big, rough and oh so talented.
His hot kisses journeyed along her jaw, over her throat. Moist, scorching kisses that made her shiver. Slowly, he moved to her neck, across her shoulders, until she wanted to scream at him to claim his prize, damn it.
At last, his mouth covered her nipple, his tongue flicking out to lathe the hard nub. Now she did moan, writhing beneath him and contracting her legs muscles to keep herself steady on the ball.
Moving down her body, he dipped his tongue into her navel before circling it with the tip. When he arrived at the top edge of her thong, she sucked in a breath. She was desperate to feel his mouth where the heat raged, but instead, he dropped excruciatingly feather-light kisses along the top of the material. When he hooked his thumbs in the sides, she smiled and caught her bottom lip between her teeth.
He drew down the thong a whisker at a time, kissing each centimeter of skin revealed to him. It was all unbearably slow, and being so turned on, she found it hard to catch her breath. ”Are you trying to drive me insane?”
He glanced up, his eyes dark blue slits of fiery heat. “Perhaps I’ve decided I do want some payback after all.” He drew the thong down another inch. “I’ve had a dozen years to plan what I’d do to you if I ever got the chance.”
Had he been lying when he’d said he didn’t hold what she’d done against her? Or was he only toying with her. Giving voice to what the occasion demanded. Taking pleasure in drawing it out, making her suffer.
She squirmed beneath him, then gasped as he pushed his tongue against the silky panel of material, the very spot he would enter if the material no longer barred his way.
Slowly, he pulled off the thong, easing it down over her legs until he reached her bent knees. She went to stand, but he pushed her back down. Since her legs were clamped together by the narrow width of the thong, there was no way he would be able to enter her.
Not that he seemed in that much of a hurry right then. He ran the tip of his finger slowly up the inside of her thigh, so lightly she could barely feel him. She shivered with wild pleasure.
He slipped the thong from one leg, but left it dangling around the ankle of the other. Then he stepped between her legs, the movement opening her thighs to him. As they wobbled on the ball, she dug her fingers into his shoulders. In response, he anchored both his hands on her thighs and pressed down. His eyes gleamed. “Hold on. Tight.”
As instructed, she tightened her grip on his shoulders a moment before his hands wrapped around her thighs and spread them wide.
The first touch of his tongue to her heat was like liquid fire and she squirmed so much the ball wobbled precariously. She clenched her stomach muscles, trying to stabilize the ball, but Mitch didn’t even attempt to stop what he was doing. He pressed his tongue deeper, his hands moving up her legs. Using his thumbs, he opened her pussy lips and slid his tongue lightly along her slit.
Again, she nearly toppled over, but still he didn’t stop.
He was eating her now. His mouth hot and determined. He sucked her hard, flicking his tongue against her clit until she cried out.
“Mitch…”
His response was to press harder. She came, so hard her head spun. She wasn’t aware she’d lost her balance again until his arm shot out to stop her from rolling off the side of the ball.
She was panting hard, her skin hot, her face burning and for a moment, she wondered if she might have done herself damage.
Mitch’s mouth glistened with her juices, a slight sheen covering his face which seemed to highlight those amazingly sexy eyes. His chest rose and fell with some effort, stretching the fabric of his shirt in the process.
She swallowed and gave a lazy smile. “Wow.”
He moved up her body and planted his hands either side of her ribcage. Leaning down, he kissed her, and she tasted herself on his lips.
When she tried reaching for his zipper, he moved his hips away.
“Aren’t we going to fuck now?”
He shook his head. “When I get inside you, we’ll need something more solid beneath us. You’ll want something to grip.”
At the thought of how it would be, she shivered. She imagined him pumping into her, pushing her hard and fast. She wasn’t sure she could wait to experience what he had to offer. “I thought you might have gotten a little adventurous in your old age,” she taunted. “I’m betting you’ve never fucked on a stability ball before. You really don’t like to live dangerously, do you?”
He grinned, but it was a feral one with not much in the way of humor about it. “Wait until you’ve got that solid grip, then your questions will be answered.”
Mitch shifted and pulled the thong back up her legs.
“You really haven’t changed,” she said as she hoisted her ass to let him dress her. “You’re still basically a nice guy.”
“And you never liked nice guys.”
“No, I didn’t.” She took her bra from him. “They’re usually no fun.”
And usually have
the ability to break a woman’s heart. She was safer with the bad boys—casual relationships with men she could never love and who would never love her. Except she could never define her relationship with Costas—the ultimate bad boy—as safe. Look where it had gotten her.
“This wasn’t fun?”
She looked at Mitch as she slipped on the lace. What he’d just done to her wasn’t in the plan. She wasn’t supposed to have fun, or feel anything as intensely as what she’d felt when he’d had his mouth on her so intimately. She glanced at her bag lying on the bench. “It would have been better if you’d fucked me.”
“Like I said, next time.”
“Who says there’ll be one?” She struggled to fasten her bra. “Maybe you’ve lost your one time only chance to be inside me.”
He pulled her to standing, then whipped her around and fastened her bra for her. When she tried to turn back to him, he held fast so she had no choice but to let him do what he wanted.
“What are you running away from, Gina?”
His voice was low, his question a mere whisper against her ear. The sensation of his breath against her ear was tantalizing, but the nature of his question hit too close to home.
“I’m not running away from anything.” His hands slid around her bare waist and cupped her breasts. She resisted the urge to close her eyes and lean back against him. “I just don’t like being played by a control freak.”
“Who does?” He flicked his thumb across her aching nipples, through the thin lacy silk. “You use sex as a smokescreen.”
“I do not.” She tried to jerk around, but still he held her fast against the hard planes of his muscled chest. “I just like sex.”
Yeah, Mitch thought, and he was pretty damn happy about that. But there was something else. He saw it in the uncertain look in her eyes, the tension in her body now that he challenged her. “Who doesn’t like sex?”
“Then why don’t you finish what you started?”
Because he wanted to keep her on her toes. Maybe he was more of a control freak than even he realized. “I’ve got standards, and when I fuck you, it will be in more pleasing surroundings than a sweaty gym.”
“This isn’t a gym,” she said, her body stiffening further against him. “And it certainly isn’t sweaty.”
“No offense meant. It’s just I’ve got something better in mind for when we’re both naked.”
He felt her squirm and knew it wasn’t entirely because he was still playing with her breasts. “Oh I see. It’s okay for you to strip me naked and shove your tongue inside me, but for you to get naked, you need more opulent surroundings.”
Shit. He was shoveling a deep hole and the last thing he needed was for her to start running for the hills. “Do you know how many times I fantasized about fucking you back in college?”
He felt her relax a little. “No.”
“Me neither. I lost count.”
Her shoulders went down. He kissed her neck and elicited a little moan from her that made his cock swell anew. “Seems to me like your brain and your prick need to have a conversation sometime. From what I can feel pressing into my back, I don’t think it would matter too much what location you preferred.”
He bit gently into her neck and she pushed her breasts into his hands. Mitch wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to hold out—not with the feel of her against him, the scent of her filling his nostrils, the touch of her hands gliding over his, urging him on.
With determined stealth, he slipped one hand down across her stomach, aware of the slight tightening of her stomach muscles, and the pressure of her palm as she tried to guide him. Inches from his goal, he held off, letting his fingers hover just above the scrap of damp silk covering her hot pussy. The desperate rotation of her hips made it difficult to maintain the status quo, and he pushed down beneath the silk. He took care not to cover her mound, but simply toyed along her slit. She moaned, gasped and then cursed as she tried in vain to push his hand deeper.
“Determined little witch, aren’t you?”
“Is there something wrong with you?” she grated as she gyrated against him. “Do you only like getting women off or something?”
He laughed and bit her earlobe. “Why don’t we go to my place? Then you’ll be able to see for yourself if there’s anything wrong with me.”
“Yes,” she ground out. “Yes.”
“Right answer.” He dipped a finger into her pussy. “For that you deserve a treat.”
“Mmm.”
She bucked her hips, pushing against his barely penetrating touch. He held out for about ten seconds, then, at her soft cries, added another finger, pushed in hard and deep, and began to work her.
She came, her feminine muscles pulsing against his fingers. Damn it, but his cock throbbed. Thank God he didn’t live far from her studio. He offered up a silent prayer that the traffic would be light en route to his apartment.
When she collapsed against him, he held her up by pulling her tight to his throbbing body. “How did you like your treat?” he asked, his own chest heaving.
Her breathing was patchy and her head lolled back against his shoulder. “You certainly know how to use your hands, I’ll give you that.”
“I know how to use other parts of my anatomy too. Which you’ll soon discover.”
She swiveled in his arms and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You talk too much. Me? I like more action.”
“So I’ve noticed.”
She leaned up and gave him a long, slow and sultry kiss that made his cock throb to high heaven. He broke the kiss and reached for her dress on the floor. He handed it to her, and she slid it over her head, before turning so he could help her with the buttons.
His fingers felt clumsy, but he couldn’t resist kissing her upper back and neck as he worked. At the sight of the tiny goose pimples on her arms, he thought how easy she was to arouse. Was it him she responded to? Or would she be the same with any other man? Since he didn’t like that idea, he pushed it from his mind and finished buttoning her dress.
Chapter Five
Reached by private elevator and located on the upper floors of a modern development overlooking Chelsea Harbor, Mitch’s apartment would most definitely fall under the label ‘swanky’.
He led her into a huge hallway furnished with mahogany wood furniture and antiques. Her father loved antiques, but she pushed away the memories associated with the good times as the bad times were more in keeping with the reality of her teenage years.
Mitch’s sitting room had a breathtaking view of the Harbor, which was currently a plethora of twinkling lights. Her own flat couldn’t boast such opulence or a spectacular view, being the top floor of an old Victoria terraced house which overlooked a disused brewery.
But she had more important things to worry about than their difference in living arrangements, primarily how she was going to work this thing with Mitch. Costas had given her two days to get incriminating evidence, beyond which if she hadn’t delivered, he was determined to carry out his threat. She’d been with Costas long enough to know he wouldn’t hesitate to go through with it.
Her thoughts were cut off when Mitch stepped behind her.
“With a view like that,” she said turning away from the window to look at him, “there must be plenty of money in investment banking.”
“It pays the bills. What would you like to drink?” When she glanced over to the hallway, Mitch laughed. “All in good time. I like to offer my guests a drink before I jump them.”
“You don’t have to play nice with me. Seeing that jumping is the reason I’m here.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Wine or coffee?”
“Wine. Thanks.”
She turned back to the view as Mitch went over to a bar in the corner and got their drinks.
Slipping her hand into her bag, she touched her phone. It was charged up
and on standby in camera mode, so if everything went well, she might be able to put this whole thing to bed tonight. Then she could give the photo to Costas and have him off her back for good.
Once more, she wondered if he really would keep his side of the bargain and give her the pen drive that held the video. She’d never had any real reason to doubt it, but then she’d only really had a sexual relationship with him, so didn’t exactly have much of a yardstick on his moral proclivities. Except that he was willing to blackmail her, of course, which didn’t exactly place him high up on the morality scale.
She squeezed her eyes shut as the enormity of her predicament surged through her again. When Costas first threatened her, she had considered all her options, and going to the police was one of them. But she’d soon dismissed that avenue of help having realized how easily it could backfire. While she might be spared the video hitting the airwaves, details of it would no doubt make the media, and the scandal of its existence would undoubtedly impact her mother in a negative way. Gina couldn’t chance that. Plus, there was no guarantee the police would be able to help anyway.
In theory, getting a photo of Mitch should be easy enough. Men were pretty basic creatures when it came to getting naked. But Mitch wasn’t like Costas, or any of the other men she’d known in her life. He certainly didn’t appear to put his own needs ahead of hers. With Costas, she would have been flat on the floor by now and he’d have been pumping away at her, not caring if she climaxed at all. Mitch had made her come twice and hadn’t once got off himself.
She heaved in a sigh. How could she do this to him? How could she compromise him this way? Once the photo of him was released, who knew what it could unleash? For all she knew, he’d be ruined, his reputation in tatters. He certainly wouldn’t be held up as a pillar of the community.
But then neither would her mother. A similar fate would await her if a video of her only daughter naked and writhing made its way onto the internet.
She was so deep in thought as she stared out into the darkness that, when Mitch touched her shoulder, she almost jumped out of her skin. With a nervous laugh, she turned and accepted the wine he offered. “Thanks. It’s a great view.”
