by JM Stewart
“That’s the whole idea.” He caressed a finger up her slit, grazing her clit along the way. At her quiet gasp, he turned his head, his soft slips skimming her earlobe, voice warm in her ear. “Payback, remember?”
Mandy moaned softly. He was getting his payback in spades, and she wasn’t above begging at this point. “You win. I get it. I’ll never tease you again.”
“I’ve wanted you for a long time, Mandy.” Voice sobering, he pressed a finger into her folds and stroked her, making come-hither motions. Pleasure burst along sensitive nerve endings. “I’m enjoying just being able to touch you.”
Mandy gasped, her hips bowing into the sweet connection. She’d been right. The calluses on his fingers created the most delicious mix of sensations. Rough yet smooth, combined with the luscious heat of his skin. “God, yes.”
“Watch.” His husky voice, filled with need, rippled through her, settling in her core, and she obediently opened her eyes, peering at the mirror. In the reflection, Marcus’s gaze caught hers, full of a hunger that made her throb, as he plunged one long finger deep inside of her.
The rough warmth of his skin sent pleasure erupting through her. He slid that digit slowly in and out of her, and her mind filled with fantasies. What would it look like if that were his cock? If he fucked her in this chair, in front of the mirror?
His thumb grazed the tip of her swollen clit and the thought flitted away as heat and delight burst along her skin. Every inch of her burned. His erratic breath huffed in her ear as he pumped into her. He had her wound up like a shaken bottle of soda. The pressure built behind her pelvis, the familiar tingle starting at the base of her spine. At any second, the top would pop off and she’d blow, and every inch of her body tensed, waiting for the moment, for the luscious rush of orgasm.
Mandy groaned and closed her eyes, dropped her head back onto his shoulder and gave herself over to his expert fingers. There was definitely something to be said about an older, more experienced man. He hadn’t fumbled around trying to find her every erogenous zone, like he had no idea where they even were. Like most of the men she’d been with. No, his sure fingers had zeroed in on them, one by one, stroking her for optimum pleasure.
Until she was bucking in time with his thrusts. She gripped his thigh hard in a vain attempt to root herself, to somehow tell him what she didn’t have the frame of mind to say.
One warm palm curled around her right breast. He kneaded the tender flesh, alternating between flicking and pinching and stroking the nipple. All the while his finger pumped faster and faster. Every stroke inside of her glided along a sensitive bit of tissue that sent her reeling toward release. His roughened palm grazed her now throbbing clit again and again.
Every nerve ending came alive, as if he’d lit a match to every exposed, sensitive bit of her.
Another glide along her clitoris and the dam inside of her burst. Her orgasm exploded through her, a shower of hot sparks and a rush of liquids. A wave that washed over her and sucked her under, leaving her shaking and gasping and riding his hand.
He caressed her through every last blinding pulse, until she finally collapsed, breathless and panting, against his chest. Every limb felt like it weighed five hundred pounds. She couldn’t catch her breath for the life of her. All the while Marcus continued to strum her body, his touch little more than a tender caress now. The sides of her breasts. Down her belly. The insides of her thighs.
When she finally began to descend from the high and awareness trickled in again, an insane, half-cocked giggle escaped her. “Holy hot damn. I am so keeping you.”
His quiet chuckle was warm in her ear as he pulled his fingers from her. “I take it you approve?”
“Oh, I most definitely consider that payment in full.” She turned her head, trying, as best she could in their current position, to see his eyes, and reached back, curling her fingers around the nape of his neck.
He cupped her cheek in his palm and settled his mouth over hers. She plunged her fingers into the short, incredibly silky hair at the back of his head and drank him in. His tongue stroked hers. His teeth nipped, lips warm and surprisingly supple. It had to be the most erotic kiss she’d experienced, slow and deep and so tender she melted into him all over again.
When he finally came up for air, his chest heaved as hard as hers. He nipped at her bottom lip one last time, murmuring against her mouth, “I’m not done with you yet.”
Chapter Seven
As Mandy slid from his lap, Marcus leaned forward, intending to get up. He wanted to lay her down on that bed over there, spread her supple thighs, and bury his mouth in her luscious heat. He wanted to taste her, to make her come again and again. Before his desires overcame him and pushed him into caveman mode.
And before the doubts nagging at the back of his mind threatened to unravel him. How wrong it was to want her this much. How right it felt to be this close to her.
He firmly shoved aside the guilt parading through his mind and managed to get to his feet before Mandy rounded on him. She braced a hand against his chest, lifted onto her toes, and nipped at his bottom lip.
“Uh-uh.” Her warm hands slid beneath his shirt, pushing it up his chest. “It’s your turn. Take this off.”
He considered arguing, for the joy of seeing that spunk light in her eyes, but he reached back over his shoulder and did as he was told. He liked this bossy side. It was damn sexy.
He dropped the shirt to the floor. “What next, angel?”
Mandy’s gaze raked over him, heat and appreciation in her eyes. Her hands followed, smoothing up his belly and over his chest, before stilling on his pecs. Somberness filled her eyes as she smoothed her thumb over the quarter-sized patch of scarred skin on the corner of his shoulder. A healed-over bullet wound. “When did you get this?”
The tender stroke of her fingers sent a shiver through him. “About four years ago. We were clearing a building when insurgents ambushed us. Fucking sniper got me.”
Her brows knit together, worry edging her gaze. “Lucky it only went into the muscle. It could have done a lot more damage.”
He made a sound of acknowledgment at the back of his throat. So the doctors had told him.
She smoothed her fingers over the scar again, then leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the wound. Just that small contact, her incredibly soft lips brushing his skin, had a shower of goose bumps popping up along his arms.
Marcus groaned. “There’s one on my thigh if you’d like to kiss that one, too.”
She gripped the button on his jeans, popping it free. “That can be arranged.”
She didn’t bother to wait for his approval or denial, either, but slid down the zipper. Then she sank to her knees, taking his pants and shorts with her, effectively freeing him. Eye level with his cock now, she peered up at him. When she actually pressed a kiss to the scar on the center of his right thigh, every muscle in his body tensed to the point of aching.
“Fuck.” He dropped his head back as sensation bombarded him: her lips grazing his skin, inches from his throbbing erection, her warm hands on his thighs. He gritted his teeth. “Keep it up, angel, and the fireworks are going to come a lot sooner than you hope.”
He expected her to laugh, to toss some cocky comeback at him. The play between them was arousing as hell. She’d made him laugh, taken him out of his head and away from the guilt and regret he hadn’t a fucking clue what to do with.
Instead of a tease, however, her soft fingers caressed the scar. “How’d you get this one?”
He opened his eyes. She stared at him, somberness written in her gaze. He traced a thumb along her left eyebrow, his chest growing heavy with the weight of the memories pressing down on him. He’d lost his best friend that day. “I was seventeen and at the wrong place at the wrong time. Got caught in gang war crossfire.”
She studied him, eyes reaching and searching, for so long his chest tightened. He half expected her to want the story. Instead, she rose to her feet and pressed her body into his
. Her warm, soft skin hit his. Her puckered nipples pushed into his chest, and his control slipped another notch. “What do you want, Marcus?”
What he wanted was for her to stop looking at him like that, like she could see all those dark places inside. He wanted to forget the past. Instead, it lived and breathed inside of him, like a dark entity seeping through his system.
And then there was her. Her subtle vanilla scent curled around his senses. The warmth of her skin and the luscious curves pulled at him, and he let it push aside everything else. She was dangerous in so many ways, and he had no desire to hurt her, but for this month, he wanted to lose himself in her sweetness.
So he slid his hands down the front of her thighs, let his fingers graze her slit and pushed in enough to skim her clit. When her breathing hitched, he leaned his mouth beside her ear.
“What I want is to bury my mouth between these thighs. To make you come so hard you clutch my head and moan my name.” He flicked his tongue against her earlobe, delighting in the shiver that moved through her. “And believe me, angel, you will.”
Her quiet, breathy laugh made his chest swell in triumph.
“You are so full of yourself. You’ll just have to wait.” She braced a hand against his chest and shoved.
He hit the edge of the chair, teetered, and dropped. “Apparently, you’re in charge tonight.”
“That’s right.” Eyes glittering with a potent mixture of mischief and desire, she slid onto his knees and leaned forward, rubbed her breasts against his skin, and whispered into the space between them, “This mirror gave me an idea.”
“Oh yeah?” He grabbed her hips and tugged her closer, until her wet heat settled against his aching erection. “What’s that?”
She gasped, and a shiver moved through her, but Mandy slid her hands up his chest and rocked her hips, grinding against him. “I thought we’d fuck in this chair.”
That word from her wholesome little mouth had his cock twitching. Her suggestion, however, filled his mind, and he jerked his gaze to their reflections. “In front of the mirror.”
She flicked her tongue against his bottom lip. “Uh-huh.”
The realization sank over him. He returned his gaze to hers and grinned. “Someone else has a kink.”
Her voice lowered to a provocative murmur as she traced his bottom lip with the tip of her index finger. “I like to watch, too.”
He groaned and slid his hands to her hips, then thrust against her slippery heat. She’d discovered his weakness. He had an almost fetish for watching. That she had the same one had him so hard his blood surged in his ears. “Okay.”
Her breathing hitched, but those eyes flashed at him, hot and amused. “You like that idea.”
“Just a little.” He leaned forward, brushing his mouth over hers. “Condom, babe. Back pocket of my jeans.”
The little hellcat had the nerve to grin at him again and cocked a brow. “Do you always carry a condom?”
“Yes. It’s always better to be prepared.” He brushed his mouth over hers and skimmed his palms up her belly, cupping each breast. He made sure to flick her nipples, enough to make her breathing hitch. “I’ll bet you carry them in your purse, that you were carrying some that first date at the masquerade.”
“Okay, so you got me on that one.” A soft blush stained her cheeks. She slid from his lap. The little minx bent straight over as she reached into his jeans pocket. After pulling out the condom, she resettled herself on his knees.
He took the condom from her and tore it open, rolling it in place, then smacked her ass. “Now stop talking and ride me, baby.”
Mandy clamped a hand over her mouth, giggling behind her fingers. “That’s a terrible line.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m about two seconds from tossing your shapely ass onto that bed over there. I’m slowly losing patience with this.”
She stilled in his lap. Her gaze dropped as she smoothed a hand over him, her thumb idly caressing the scar on the corner of his shoulder.
“I’m sorry. You make me laugh.” She shrugged, and something vulnerable moved across her features. “That’s sexy to me. Most guys are all about the endgame.”
He hooked two fingers beneath her chin, tilting her gaze back to him, and brushed his mouth over hers. “Climb on, angel.”
She nodded and lifted herself up. Her toes barely touched the floor, though, giving her little leverage.
“Houston, we’ve got a problem.” He grinned and scooted down in the chair. It was almost comical how much work it took, but the reward came when she slid onto him.
Mandy moaned quietly, dropped her forehead onto his shoulder and rolled her hips, then moaned again. “I always wondered what you’d feel like. It’s so much better than the fantasy.”
Only sheer force of will made him resist the near-overwhelming desire to grip her hips and satiate the need she’d sent burning through his blood. Holy mother of Christ. She was hot and wet and tight, and she was right. In this position, he could see everything in the mirror behind her. His cock disappearing into her. The luscious curve of her ass. Even her trembling thighs.
He turned his mouth to her ear. “Go, angel. Right now, I’m beyond thought, and I don’t want to hurt you, so I’m officially putting you in control of this.”
She lifted her head from his shoulder, nodded, and brushed her mouth over his. Hands braced on his shoulders, she rolled her hips in slow circles. His cock moved in increments inside of her, not providing nearly enough friction, but Mandy moaned quietly, so Marcus contented himself with watching her. He slid his hands up her stomach, massaging her small, pert breasts and pinching her nipples. All the while she continued to roll her hips, grinding against him.
She attempted to rise again, but even on her tiptoes, her thrusts were shallow at best. He drew a steadying breath and forced himself to focus on her reflection in the mirror, on stroking her body. Tonight was about her. Her needs. Her pleasure. Not his.
When her movements took on an awkward jerking, Mandy growled, low and frustrated.
Unable to stand the lack of friction anymore, he gripped her hips to stop her movement. “Angel?”
Panting by this point, she went still and opened her eyes. “Hmm?”
“Is this doing anything for you?”
She bit her bottom lip, gnashing it between her teeth, then sighed and giggled. “Not nearly enough.”
She pushed her toes against the floor. Or at least she tried. All she managed was the same awkward bouncing.
“Sitting on your lap like this, I can barely get enough leverage, and the thrusts are…” She let out an insane little giggle and went limp in his lap, shoulders slumping. “God, this was such a bad idea. All I’m getting is frustrated.”
He chuckled and leaned forward, brushing his mouth over hers. “You get points for originality, but we’re getting up, because if this continues, I’ll die of frustration.”
Mandy giggled again, but clamped a hand over her mouth. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. But we are getting up. Hold on.” She nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck. Holding her securely by the ass, he pushed out of the chair, carried her the two steps to the bed, and set her on top. Her ass hit the edge, not nearly where he wanted to be. Some part of his brain told him he ought to lay her fully on top, to love her long and slow, but he was beyond rational thought. He braced one hand on the bed beside her hip, used his other to hook her left knee, and sank deep, then pulled out and pushed in again.
Mandy moaned, her eyes rolling closed in bliss. Her hands slid down his back to cup his ass. “Oohhh, this is so much better.”
He heartily agreed, but his reply came out as more of a garbled grunt as pleasure shuddered through him. Holy fucking Christ. She wrapped around him like a warm, wet glove, creating the most incredible friction. He gave himself permission to relish the sensation and found a slow, deep rhythm.
Mandy uttered a litany of quiet moans and arched against him, her hips rising to meet hi
s. Her breathing increased, her chest heaving. Her warm, ragged breaths teased his skin. Her nails dug into his ass where she clutched at him. Every thrust propelled them faster, drove them harder.
Until all that registered were her soft mewling cries and the creak of the bed beneath them. He tried desperately to hold on to himself, but Mandy was Mandy. In the throes of passion, she was so goddamn beautiful. He couldn’t stop watching the bliss travel across her features. Every gasp and sigh made his balls tighten and ache.
No. When he went, he was for damn sure taking her with him. He reached between them, found her swollen clit and flicked it with his thumb. “Come on, angel. I’m not going to come till you do.”
She moaned again, hips bowing into the pressure of his finger. Rubbing circles around her clit, he pulled out until only the tip of him remained and then shoved hard into her. Mandy sucked in a sharp breath, her body going rigid beneath him. Her thighs trembled.
So he pulled out again and thrust again, sending the bed shaking and her headboard knocking the wall. She groaned, long and low. Her heat clamped around him, and she cried out, her belly trembling. She tossed her head back, body bowing off the bed, hips growing a jerky rhythm as her inner walls squeezed his cock.
Marcus swore under his breath. The sensation was too much. Like a bolt of lightning straight out of the sky, his orgasm rushed over him. Her soft cries filled his ears. Her body shook beneath him. Her perfume, that sweet vanilla, mixed with the scent of sex and her, filled his lungs. He trembled helplessly, the pleasure seemingly never-ending.
When the spasms finally released him, he collapsed forward, dropping his forehead onto her shoulder. “Holy shit.”
He dragged in desperate breaths. Every muscle and bone in his body felt weighted by lead. He couldn’t have moved if he tried. Legs still locked around his hips and panting every bit as hard as he was, Mandy simply clutched him tight. How long they stayed that way, he couldn’t be sure, but eventually he found the energy to lift his head.
