by Alice Ward
“Please,” she whispered and lifted her hips, grinding her denim-clad pussy into my denim-clad cock. I gave her what she needed, pressure, grinding down, introducing our sexes through our clothes.
“Please what?”
Her fingers answered the question as they unbuttoned my shirt, not ripping as I had done to hers. Then she pushed it from my shoulders, and I rose up to my knees and tossed it off the bed before kicking off my shoes. She rose too, her eyes widening as her fingers traced the extensive tattoo that started over my heart and sprawled over my shoulder and down my arm. She looked mesmerized as she traced the black ink examined the dragon, the fire, the tree of life buried in the chaos. Caged animals lost in the tangle of black. The angel hidden in the confusion.
Women had reacted before, of course. I was a fairly clean-cut guy, so finding the real me underneath often came as a surprise. But no one had ever gone beyond a “nice tats” response. No one had ever seen me in them. She was seeing me, and it didn’t frighten her, disgust her.
“You’re a very complex man,” she whispered as she pressed her lips to my chest, her fingers walking down my abs to the button of my jeans. The zipper hissed down while I shoved the ruined shirt from her shoulders.
“Yes.”
Her understanding of me. Her knowing of me was both terrifying and freeing at once. People didn’t try to know me. Women wanted what I had. Men kept their distance unless they thought I could do something for them.
“You seem so… lonely.”
Lonely.
I’d never considered myself as such. I had a busy life. I worked from dawn until dusk. I was respectful of my colleagues, didn’t hit on the nurses, didn’t pull ego trips on my patients. I was…
Lonely.
“I’m not lonely right now.”
Something in her blue eyes flared and a small smile curled up the right side of her mouth. The look was pure seduction, and I fell into its snare.
My balls were burning more severely now, my cock pulsing in my pants. Need drove me, making me rough as I ripped the bra straps down her arms, then pushed her back down on the bed, following her down to kiss the fuck out of her for a while.
I loved kissing her. It was something that meant very little to me in the past. It was a part of the act of sex, nothing more. But I couldn’t get enough of her mouth. Her tongue. The teeth that nipped at me. And god, the sounds she made. The way her hands ran through my hair.
“I love your freckles.”
She seemed surprised. “Thank you. I hated them when I was younger, but I kind of like them now.”
Her eyes glistened in the soft light of the room as I kissed across her cheek and down her jaw. There was a smattering of freckles on her shoulders too, her chest, and I sat up, straddling her to trail a finger from one to the next, playing connect the dots over her soft skin. As eager as I was to be in her a few minutes ago, I wanted to slow down now, take my time unwrapping what was becoming my favorite package.
“What else to you hate?” I asked, enjoying just talking to her, hearing her voice.
She licked her lips. “Letting people down. What do you hate?”
I already knew my answer. “The idea of being tied down.”
She seemed to understand. “So, you’re a free spirit? That makes me a little jealous.”
As I unbuttoned her jeans and hooked my fingers in the waistband, I noticed her tattoo for the first time. High on her right side, just below the ribcage was a tree of life. It was an odd placement but beautifully done, the dark ink a strong contrast to her pale skin.
“I think you are more free-spirited than you realize.”
Tracing it with my finger, I felt the scar before I realized what it was. In the bark of the tree, a long, jagged scar easily six inches in length was hidden in the trunk. For some reason, the scar angered me as I thought of how such a wound must have felt.
When I lowered my head to trace the scar with my tongue, she sat up, forcing me away from it, the pain in her eyes reflecting the hurt of long ago. “Don’t. Please.”
I’d found this strong woman’s kryptonite, but I wouldn’t use it against her. I would leave it alone. Make her forget.
Sinking my hands in those wild curls, I pulled her head toward me and took her mouth again, forcing her back onto the sheets. I wanted to take her thoughts away from pain and lead her back down the road to only pleasure.
“You have some powerful magic inside you,” I whispered against her lips. “Mighty powerful.”
She grinned, relaxing under me again. She lifted her hips, grinding her sex into mine. “Hocus-pocus. Show me your magic wand.”
I laughed, a throw my head back kind of laugh and collapsed down onto her. She was adorable in every possible way. “You aren’t Delilah. You’re Samantha. Bewitching.”
She wiggled her nose, or tried to at least, and I kissed the tip of it, unable to believe I hadn’t fucked her twice already. This was new. Laughing during sex. Taking my time. I liked it, feeling comfortable enough with anyone to not have an agenda, let the feelings take us wherever they went.
Wanting to explore some more, I moved down her body, licking her skin, sucking on her nipples. Trailing my tongue down the soft curve of her stomach, I enjoyed the soft vanilla fragrance that reminded me of cookies baking in the kitchen.
I was careful to avoid the scar as I pulled the jeans down her hips, revealing cotton boy shorts in the softest of blue. Inch by inch, her pale flesh was revealed until all that was left was that sweet bit of material between her legs. Her fingers clutched at the bedsheets as I trailed my fingers up her legs after tossing her jeans to the floor.
“Sorry, nothing sexy there,” she said, indicating the plain underwear, then squealed when I flipped her over and trailed my tongue up the strong line of her hamstring. She couldn’t have been more wrong. They were sexy as hell, clinging to an ass that was as good as the jeans had advertised.
“They’re perfect,” I said as I kissed her ass cheeks before working my tongue up each vertebra, tracing the ladder of each bone one at a time. When I reached her neck, she shivered as I found a sensitive place there, scraping it with my teeth. “You’re perfect. So very beautiful.” I kissed her earlobe, trailing my hands up her arms until our fingers linked. “I’m going to remove your panties now, spread you open. I want to see every part of you.” She shivered again, hips pulsing beneath me. “Then I want to taste you, fuck you with my tongue, my fingers. I want to watch your face as you come.”
She was breathing hard. So was I as I moved off her and flipped her onto her back. Her nipples were like pebbles, her chest heaving as I slipped my fingers under the waistband of the panties. Pulling down, I smiled. My little witch liked it bare. Well, almost. Just a thin strip of auburn curls marred the surface of her perfect skin.
Such a nice surprise.
“Glad I waxed,” she said with a little embarrassed laugh, her cheeks flaming as I pushed her legs farther apart.
I trailed a finger up her slit, felt the wetness there. “I love how smooth and soft you are.” Then I smirked, trailing a thumb over the nearly slick mound. “I’m glad you left a little. I’ve been really curious to know if that red hair is natural.”
The blush trailed down across her chest and she attempted to close her thighs, but I wouldn’t let her, only spread her wider. “As you can see, it is, thank you very much. I just like the clean feel of… ohhh.”
She bucked and I held her hips down as my tongue found her clit, circling the tight bud before I settled more comfortably between her legs and moved lower. She cried out and twisted on the bed, but I held on, keeping her still. The need was back, but not to fuck this time. The need was to devour.
It had been a while since I’d gone down on a woman, especially the kinds I picked up in bars. This woman was different. I didn’t just want to taste her. I needed it. Craved it. And I knew she wasn’t like the others.
Dragging a finger up through her honey-slick folds, I watched the butterf
ly of her sex open before me. With my thumbs, I spread her swollen flesh, watched it open one layer at a time. She was glistening, her desire for me evident. Ready for me. But not yet.
I inhaled, breathing in her scent as I tasted her unique flavor. Salty. Sweet. The soft mewling that came from her throat made her even sweeter as I plunged my tongue inside her to feast.
“Oh god, please.”
She lifted her hips and her fingers sank into my hair, twisting into the strands as she ground into my face. I looked up at her, over the mound of her sex. She licked her lips, her pupils blown as I blew cool air on her swollen labia. Her eyes closed, but I waited until they opened again to continue. I wanted her to watch me give her what she needed.
In one quick movement, I ran my tongue up her slit before capturing her clit between my teeth. Her eyes rolled back, and she cried out, her fingers pulling my hair even harder as I sucked the tight bundle of nerves into my mouth, pulsing it with my tongue. Letting go, I retraced my path, plunging my tongue deep inside her sweetness. She twisted, trying to break away from the overwhelming sensation. Her hips bucked violently, but I held her down, invading her again, pumping my tongue in and out of her hot flesh, licking inside her deeply.
She wailed when I added a finger, bucked when I added a second. I chased her up the bed as she tried to twist away from the intense pleasure I was intent on giving her.
She came, screaming through the release as her tight body clamped down on my fingers, her thighs closing around my head. I didn’t let up, didn’t let her rest. She was so tight. So hot. It made me crazy, and I added another finger, scissoring them to make her ready for me. She was so small, I worried I might hurt her if I wasn’t careful.
I worked her, twisting my fingers, pulsing them in and out of her with increasing speed. Her breath was ragged, the air ripping out of her lungs as I forced her closer and closer to the edge again.
When she flew, it was beautiful, her eyes locked onto mine, her mouth opened in a scream that didn’t escape her throat. I slowed my movement, licking her softly as her body trembled, waited for her to stop gasping before running my tongue up her stomach, over a nipple, and up to her mouth.
“Taste how sweet you are.”
She was greedy, sucking on my tongue, licking my lips, her movements frenzied. Then she was pushing at my chest, her blue eyes blazing with desire. “I want you,” she panted, pulling at my jeans, her fingers fumbling to push them down over my raging erection.
Rolling from the bed, I made quick work of the jeans and reached into my open duffle bag for a box of condoms, pulling one out before tossing an entire strip onto the sheets. My little witch scooted to the side of the bed, her fingers in the waist of my boxer briefs. She pulled them down, her greedy tongue already licking away the drop of pre-cum at the tip.
There was no tease, no finesse, only pure desire as she sucked on the head. I hissed as her lips took me in, her tongue dipping into the tip, her teeth scraping the shaft as she tried to take me into her throat. I watched her mouth stretch wide, trying to take more of me until her eyes began to water. I wrapped her hair around my hand and began pulsing in and out in short strokes before pulling out, letting her breathe.
“More,” she gasped and licked her lips. Fuck, she was sexy as hell as I fed her, watched her swallow even more that time. Her fingers circled the few inches she couldn’t take, and I gritted my teeth, refusing to come as she began pumping me with her fist.
“Stop. I need you to stop.”
She didn’t listen, just sucked and stroked, driving me wild. I was at the edge, but I didn’t want to be there this way. I wanted to be inside her, feeling those tight walls clamp down around me. I wanted my face only inches from hers when I watched her come.
Using her hair as leverage, I forced her to her feet, then pulled her head back until I took her mouth.
“I’m going to fuck you now,” I growled against her lips and shoved her backwards, watching her eyes open wide in surprise as she bounced on the bed. She quickly recovered, a sexy grin spreading on her face. Oh yeah. She was ready for me.
Making quick work of the condom, I rolled it on before crawling back between her legs, forcing them wider apart with my knees.
“Tell me you still want this,” I said, my face inches from hers.
She didn’t hesitate. “I want this.”
And with one solid stroke, I plunged.
God, it was so good, better than even her mouth. It was the wet, the warmth, the tightness — the trifecta of pleasure.
And I was lost.
CHAPTER FIVE
Scarlett
I was lost.
Lost in him. Lost to the passion. Lost to the experience of losing control of my body so completely. I was making sounds I didn’t know I could make, feeling things I didn’t know I could feel, and when he plunged inside me, our bodies connecting for the first time, I surrendered to it all. To everything. To him.
“So good,” he growled against my mouth, his eyes boring into mine as he hilted to the end of me.
I arched against the burn of being stretched by his thick cock but didn’t close my eyes as my body absorbed him fully. When he was balls deep, he took my wrists in his hands, holding them over my head, pinning my arms to the bed. My legs shook as pain and pleasure coursed through me, in the best possible way. I was at his mercy. Bound by him. To him. He rolled his hips, withdrawing just enough that I felt the loss of him before he speared into me again in a soul-shattering thrust.
“I don’t know if I can be gentle with you right now, so if I hurt you or you need me to stop, tell me. Promise that you will.”
He looked so serious, and I ached to have my hands released so I could sooth the line on his forehead away. “I promise.”
There was a hard edge to my hunger, so I didn’t know if that was a promise I could keep. I wanted whatever he could give me, wanted to feel it tomorrow and the day after. A deep, insatiable need washed over my body, battering me like waves against the rocky outline of the shore. I loved it. I loved the way my breasts rocked on my chest as each violent thrust vibrated through me. I loved the ache in my hips as his spread me wide. Loved the ache in my thighs as they clamped around him. Loved everything but being bound and unable to feel his skin under my fingers.
“Let me go. Let me touch you.”
The words were pants against his mouth, and he let go of my wrists, grabbing my hair instead. He pulled, and I arched into the pain. Arched into the connection of our bodies, even as I pulled his mouth down for another kiss.
I keened, my body tightening as he pushed me toward another cliff. “That’s right, baby. Feel me inside you, feel how hard you make me, and let it go. I want to make you come again. I want to watch your face, feel you squeeze my cock with your sweet, tight pussy.”
I’d never had a lover who talked this way before, whose eyes bored into me so intently. It was sexy, his voice in rhyme to the sounds of our bodies slapping together.
“Come, you little witch.” He drove into me harder, deeper, faster. “And don’t you fucking close your eyes because I want to see.”
I was being wound around his words, my body tightening around his seduction, then I was there, jumping, falling, flying through space. My vision dimmed, but I didn’t close my eyes, didn’t stop letting him see what he did to me.
He growled, and his lips clamped onto mine. As if the kiss gave him a new source of energy, he pounded, drove into me even harder.
Without warning, he pulled out, and before I could even vocalize the loss, he flipped me over and pulled my hips up. His mouth was on me again, tongue spearing down the line of my ass, then lower, soothing the sting from his rough penetration.
I gripped the sheets and pushed back into his face. Wanting more. Needing more. He gave it with no hesitation. Then his cock was back, slamming into me so hard I scooted forward a couple inches on the bed. I braced and pushed back against him, wanting more. He gripped my hips, slapping against me so hard it soun
ded like thunderclaps echoing through the room, one hand moving to my neck to hold me down.
He thrust into me mercilessly, until I was nearly crying with the intensity of it all as he forced me from one climax into another. It was insane. Wild. Primitive. My only wish was that I could see his face.
It was a surprise when his thumb slipped into my ass, ratcheting my pain and pleasure threshold up a notch or three. I was so very full, so battered from the intensity of his lovemaking. No, his fucking. Yes. This was fucking. He let go of my neck, his hand wrapping around my hip until his fingers found my clitoris. I wailed, a sound I didn’t recognize as pain and pleasure warred for dominance, both of them winning.
His breathing changed, and it was like I could feel him grow close to his own release. His cock thickened more, spreading me, burning me.
Every sense was alive. Sight. Touch. Taste. Sound. Smell. The scent of our sex filling the room, the hiss of our breaths. His curse when he finally allowed himself to come. My cry that followed.
I collapsed onto the bed, then mourned the loss of him when he pulled out of me and rolled onto his back, his breath coming in great gasping pants. “I thought you were going to kill me,” he said, looking at me, a beautiful grin on his face.
I tried to say something in return, but little more than a breathless sound escaped my throat as I rolled onto my side to face him. His fingers linked with mine as we simply gazed at each other, our bodies cooling, growing still.
“That was amazing,” I said, and no truer words had ever been said in the history of the universe. “I didn’t know sex could be like that.”
He grinned. “Yeah. What we just did was special.”
Happiness filled my heart. “Really?” The word had a funny little squeak at the end, but I was so delighted that I wasn’t the only one who thought so.
