by Mel Teshco
She’d discovered a love for sex later in life than most girls. But unlike many of her “friends,” she’d gotten off on the empowerment that came with fucking a man senseless. The most influential of men had become completely undone by the thrill of paid sexual release while she…she had been brought to life, a goddess who’d found her calling.
She looked up, holding Blaine’s stare as she suckled one of his nipples. A muscle in his jaw throbbed, undoubtedly in sync to the throbbing of his cock.
Only one way to find out.
Working her way downward, she pressed kisses over his delicious, silken warm skin, the hard lines of his torso and abs. Regular boxing, jujitsu and aikido bouts apparently kept him honed and strong. And she could certainly attest to his bedroom prowess and stamina.
Unlike her other clients, Blaine had been open about his life. With each encounter, she’d learned a bit more about him. Little things that drew a bigger picture about him, the man.
He was partial to cats, though he had no time in his life right now to own one. Brussels sprouts and liver were never on his menu, while old-fashioned pot roast and roasted vegetables were regular fare. And sex. He loved sex. Lots of it. But she had a strong feeling he’d be faithful once he was attached. Whoever was fortunate enough to keep his bed warm was one lucky woman indeed.
She ignored the unwelcome flash of envy by pushing further thought aside and concentrating on her client.
She stopped at his clenched belly to dip her tongue into his navel and swirl around its rim. His breath rushed out. But it wasn’t until she kneeled, untied the knotted towel at his hips before taking his steel-hard cock into her mouth, that his eyes slid closed and his head rocked back.
“Sweet Jesus,” he groaned, “I don’t pay you nearly enough.”
They both knew he could get it for free anytime he wanted, but who was she to argue the point? Even if she hadn’t left poverty behind her many years ago, her aphrodisiac would still be the man behind the money. Blaine was clearly focused and driven to have climbed the ladder of success at such a young age, and she found that a turn-on all of its own.
The head of his cock hit the back of her throat before she slowly retreated, suckling hard as, inch by long inch, his shaft withdrew. She swirled her tongue around the head of his cock, lapping up the sticky, salty essence of his pre-cum, before his hips drove forward. With his cock pushed into the back of her mouth, he reversed the thrust, taking up a rhythm that was as decadent and primal as the taste of his essence.
She grazed delicate teeth along his hard, veined shaft. His deep groans intensified until she wondered how he hadn’t yet exploded into her mouth.
He abruptly withdrew. Then, depositing their glasses with a sharp clank onto a nearby occasional table, he took her hand and helped her to her feet. All the while, his eyes burned with a dangerous intensity that somehow suited the music wafting from the speakers. Violins sparkled into a crescendo, like a wave rushing across a shore.
“Much as I’m all too tempted to spill into your mouth, I want more from you…much more,” he said.
“Intercourse?” she asked, aware that he appreciated her dry sense of humor. Then again, he seemed to appreciate her in any guise.
He’s never seen me slouching around in sweats and a favorite old t-shirt.
His smile almost disarmed her, had her again momentarily yearn to be something more than his…what? Love toy? Expensive lay?
What would it be like to be someone permanent in his life? Someone he came home to every night?
She bit into her bottom lip to bring her mind back to the present. Stupid girl. What was wrong with her? Where were these thoughts coming from? She’d never questioned her life before, never wished for anything more.
At least, not since she’d been a naïve young girl imagining the kind of future many women her age lived for real. But there was no point wondering about the hundred different what-might-have-been scenarios. She’d long ago embraced her chosen career.
She cleared her face as Blaine’s brilliant eyes assessed her, seemingly reading her every thought…her every doubt. Then he smiled a little. “Intercourse…yes, if that’s what you want to call it.” With her hand still in his, he brought her farther into the room. “I’ve got just the place.”
Something beyond excitement shuddered through her body. “Oh?”
He stilled behind a sofa, bringing her to his front so that she could see their reflection in the huge wall mirror. Her strawberry-blonde hair should have clashed with her flame-red dress. It didn’t. Better yet, the colors were a dramatic foil to his dark coloring, the fire to his night.
His eyes glinted with wicked intent. “I want you to watch while I make you come.”
His head dropped low. She gasped when he raked splayed hands through her hair and tugged her back.
Oh god.
Her scalp burned a little at the pressure. But his mouth burned hotter still across her throat, sending a lightning bolt of need through her nerve endings, and a flood of moisture straight to her pussy.
It was beyond erotic to watch him take control, his expertise obvious and his restraint somehow sexy. His large hands moved down the bodice of her dress and cupped her breasts. Without the restriction of a bra, his thumbs all too easily caressed her already hard nipples into sharp little points.
His dark head moved slowly, luxuriously up her nape. When he took her earlobe into his mouth and suckled, she arched into him on a groan, a round of shivers rippling through her body.
She could only be glad his big body was behind her, supporting her weakened knees. Right now, she could barely function beyond the most basic level of awareness. Perhaps that was why she didn’t at first notice that he’d moved his hands from her breasts to take hold of her front zipper?
Soft, cool air caressed her bared skin. The hot, hard throb of his cock pressed against the small of her back. She dropped her arms and Blaine stepped back for a beat, her dress sliding free from her shoulders and landing on the floor in a whisper of sound. Leaving her in a barely there, lacy, crimson thong.
“Dance for me,” he rasped in her ear.
Taking her cue from the violins, she slithered down, against his hardness, then back up again. Her eyes glinted back at her in the mirror as she coiled her arms above her head, her hips sashaying to the magical notes pulsing through the room. She reached back and clasped his nape, bringing him nearer still.
On a heavily exhaled breath, he reciprocated, trailing kisses once again down her throat and suckling at her flesh while she gyrated against him. Her lips parted and her eyelids fluttered half shut as a furnace of heat built inside her.
Some kind of expletive, that sounded much like a benediction, filled her ears. Then his legs kicked apart so that he was spread-eagle behind her, and eye-level to her in the mirror. His cock slid between her ass cheeks and glanced over her aching clit. She gasped. With only her flimsy lace thong as a barrier, nerve endings flared into life, pooling warmth between her thighs.
He pushed a hand down the front of her thong, using a finger to probe between the slick folds of her flesh. “You’re so wet for me.”
That was a gross understatement. But then he’d always gotten off on the fact that she was wet for him on demand. What normal girl wouldn’t be though?
Before she could voice some kind of acknowledgment, he tore the fragile material from her and discarded it to the floor. He tilted her chin up and commanded huskily, “Watch.”
Her pussy clenched at the fierce possessiveness that shone in his stare reflecting back at her. His focus on her…all of her.
“See how perfect we look together?” he asked.
She nodded. She couldn’t argue with that. At least, not until his hands cupped her breasts and he added, “We belong together, baby. Always.”
Find out what happens next in Lady in Red…
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About the Author
Mel Teshco’s gypsy-like upbringing saw her living in many places along Australia’s east coast. Each new home stimulated an already over-active imagination, where she spent as much time dreaming about fantasy worlds as the real world – the fantasy sometimes being much better.
Now living on a beautiful rural property with views of the mountains keeping her two horses, three cats and one hyperactive Belgian shepherd happy, she is happily married with three gorgeous girls and two cheeky grandchildren.
She is a multi-published author with a love of the written word along with a short attention span that sees her juggling a variety of genres and heat levels in her stories. From contemporary to paranormal, inspirational to erotic, she hopes there’s a little of something for every reader out there to enjoy.
Visit her website at MelTeshco.com
Join her mailing list here
Follow her on Facebook and Twitter @MelTeshco
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