Naughty Nibbles Anthology

by Sierra Cartwright, SL Majors, Christy Lockhart

  * * * *

  "How's the new product?"

  Sophie didn't look up from her computer screen.

  "Sophie!"

  "Hmmm? What?"

  "Earth to Sophie. Are you listening?"

  She glanced up to see her sister Gracie, hands propped on her hips, staring intently. Sophie blinked. She really was somewhere else. With someone else. “What?"

  Gracie sighed. “You've been in your own world all morning."

  Guilty, with no defence. She couldn't even blame lack of sleep. As satiated as she was, she'd slept like the innocent, which, of course, she was.

  "So...?” she prompted. “I know you tried it. You left the packing material all over the place."

  And Gracie, being Gracie, would have straightened up long before anyone else showed up. “It's...” She searched for a word. “Nice."

  "Nice? It's supposed to deliver a stratospheric orgasm and you say it's nice?"

  "Very nice, so far,” Sophie amended. “I still need to try a couple more settings."

  In the back room, the electric kettle whistled. “I'll get that,” Sophie said. Anything to make a quick get-away.

  She returned five minutes later with two perfectly brewed cups of tea. Gracie either still had her hands on her hips or she'd put them there for a second time. No one, no one, had more focus than Gracie, so it was entirely possible she'd simply stood there the entire time Sophie was in the back room.

  "What was so nice about the toy?"

  "Well, as the sales rep said, it has numerous settings. I tried ‘pulse’ last night."

  "And it wasn't stratospheric?” It had been three months since Gracie and her last boyfriend broke up. Like Sophie, Gracie was probably hoping for something out of this world.

  "It was.” But she wondered, was it the toy or the man wielding control of the remote? She planned to say nothing about last night's visit from the constable. Not that they would condemn her for enjoying his company. On the contrary, they'd demand to hear every single, salacious detail.

  Usually she didn't mind sharing ... Kissing and telling was half the fun, and that what the sisters had always done. But for some reason, at least for now, she wanted electric-blue eyed Ryan Kelley all to her greedy little self. “I was online just now sending an e-mail to our rep asking for a sample for you to try.” She raised a delicate china cup to her lips. “See what a good sister I am?"

  Just then, the door opened.

  Sophie scalded her mouth.

  Ryan? What was he doing here?

  Well, besides looking yummy? He wasn't in uniform, and he looked just as delicious as he had last night. A deep blue sweater stretched across his chest, and it didn't hide a damn thing. His biceps still managed to look large and well defined.

  Old blue jeans, worn dozens of times and washed until they were nearly white, showed the powerful size of his thighs.

  But it was his hands that riveted her attention. She remembered the feel of his touch as he parted her labia and gently squeezed her clit until it was a swollen nub. More than coax an orgasm from her, he'd demanded one.

  She resisted the impulse to fan herself. She was aware of the local law officer in a whole new way.

  "Good morning, Gracie."

  "Morning, Ryan,” she said. “What brings you into our shoppe?"

  He fixed his gaze on Sophie.

  She willed him to say nothing, to pretend he hadn't been in the store the night before.

  "I'm checking up on your sister. Making sure there were no troubles after last night's adventure."

  Damn him.

  "Last night's adventures?” Gracie asked.

  Oh, oh. Gracie was back to having her hands propped on her hips. “I forgot to lock up,” Sophie said, waving a hand dismissively. “Fortunately Officer Kelley noticed while he was on his rounds. So, all's well."

  "Did you decide if you're going to carry The Clit Rocket in inventory?"

  Too bad he wasn't in uniform. She'd use his own baton to knock him upside his thick head.

  "I'd like to order one. I think you'll sell dozens of them if you continue to give personal demonstrations."

  "Personal demonstrations?” Gracie asked.

  The smile she'd been trying to keep in place fractured. Forget the baton. He was about to learn what deadly force was. “I'll let you know when they arrive. Have a good day, Officer."

  "I was hoping you'd show me the other settings. ‘Pulse’ worked well. Wonder what vibrate might do?"

  She placed her cup and saucer on the top of a glass case before it slipped from her nerveless fingers. “In your dreams."

  "Actually, that's what I did dream about."

  He took a step towards her, and she smelled the spice of his soap. Her insides gave an odd little skip. Her pussy flooded with juices. What in the name of all that was holy was he doing to her? Besides trying to steal her control, the precious control that she wanted to hold on to.

  "Are you working late again tonight?"

  "Sorry.” She gave a smug, Cheshire-cat grin. “I won't be here. Katie has the late shift."

  "Good. I have the day off. I'll be at your place at seven. Have The Clit Rocket available."

  Her mouth dropped open.

  "Be naked.” Helpfully, he placed his finger under her chin and lifted it.

  Trapped.

  Gracie's eyes were wide with curiosity, but she waited until the door gave a little jangle behind him before she said anything. “Dish.” Her hands were still on her hips, but her shoulders were raised in question. “You were here late last night giving personal demonstrations of sex toys to local law enforcement?"

  And he was a fast learner. “Biscuit?” she said, offering her sister a plate of Cadbury's finest.

  Chapter Three

  Half past six.

  Sophie was pacing the entire length of her flat, including the bedroom. Back and forth, from the bedroom to her home office, to the living room and through the kitchen and dining room. And then she'd retrace her steps.

  She stopped repeatedly to pull back the curtains to take a quick look outside, just to see if anything had changed in the past fifteen seconds.

  She told herself Ryan hadn't been serious. But he hadn't given any indication he'd been joking.

  Just in case he was planning to show up, she'd taken her bath. She'd washed her hair and squeezed a generous amount of bath gel from the shoppe onto a body pouf. She smelled fresh and clean, and she like felt a complete fool. He probably had no intention of coming to her flat. And even if he did, she couldn't say that she'd actually let him in.

  That didn't stop her, though, from refreshing her mascara in anticipation and taking a swipe across her cheeks with the soft bristles of her blusher brush. And it didn't stop her from lighting a candle, or from turning on some music. Classical tonight. That decision alone had taken three quarters of an hour.

  Finishing the day had been a challenge, especially with the questioning looks from her sisters.

  She'd nipped out of the store a bit early, with a vague excuse of needing to go the post office.

  The truth was, Sophie was ready to jump out of her own skin.

  Ryan Kelley unnerved her. It was more than his badge, it was his aura. The man crackled with restrained energy. She'd never shied away from sex. She'd even had a couple of NSA relationships. While most women couldn't handle an emotionless, no strings attached affair, she was able to compartmentalise and had little problem with it. A couple of times, she'd even been the one to search it out. She'd boldly posted an ad on a local internet bulletin board when she'd travelled to the United States. Sex with a Yankee had been a kick.

  Sophie didn't obsess over men. But she'd thought of very little except the orgasm Ryan helped her achieve last night and how much she wanted to do it again. There was something different about him that appealed to her on a primal level.

  He was self-assured. He didn't ask what she wanted or get his own rocks off. Instead, he'd tuned in to what she wanted and ga
ve her more than she'd been expecting. With his sexy, barely leashed power, she was a goner. In him, Sophie feared she'd very much met her match.

  No sense in making it too easy for him, though. She hadn't complied with his request that she be naked. After her bath, she'd pulled on a crimson coloured silk dressing gown. Subtle. The gown ended a few inches above her knee and was cinched tight enough to show off her curves. She skipped putting on knickers or a bra.

  She'd been a bit daring by putting on a pair of fuck-me stilettos. He might not show up, but if he did, she could certainly hope he'd perform.

  By one minute until the hour, she was convinced she was going to wear a hole in the carpeting.

  At precisely seven, there was a knock on the door.

  She smoothed the silk down her thighs, but before she could respond, he'd let himself in.

  "Still not locking doors?"

  "Still coming in uninvited?” Self consciously, she was holding the lapels of the robe together. And when she realised that she was betraying how nervous she was, she forced herself to let go.

  And she tried not to drool. Earlier, in a dark blue sweater, he'd still looked somewhat official. Now, in a dove grey form-fitting T-shirt and jeans that hadn't been worn enough to relax around the hip and thigh, he was simply yummy.

  His dark hair was a little longer than official regulations, she was sure, and a lock of it fell seductively onto his forehead. She could see the definition of his biceps and the cords in his forearms. His eyes, though, totally riveted her attention. He was focused on her, and it was as if the force of his personality commanded her entire attention.

  Was it hot in here, or was it just him? “May I offer you a drink?"

  "What's tonight's music?"

  "Sir Arthur Sullivan."

  "I'm at a bit of a disadvantage."

  "There's more on the radio than just sports, you know,” she said. “But since I'm all in favour of culture, I'll educate you. He was a British composer. Knighted by Queen Victoria."

  "It's fun. A bit lighthearted. A change from last night's techno."

  "It works.” Including the big crashing finish with cymbals. She was no one's fool. She'd chosen the music intentionally.

  He closed the door and slid home the bolt. The way she felt, that might as well have been a clash of cymbals itself.

  Ryan followed her into the kitchen.

  "Is wine alright?” she asked.

  He took the bottle from her and uncorked it.

  Did being in control just come naturally to him?

  She poured two glasses of the merlot and drank deeply from hers. She'd never before noticed just how tiny her galley kitchen was. Come to think of it, she hadn't had a man in it before.

  He left his untouched on the counter. “You like to fuck to Sir Arthur Sullivan?"

  Her heart speeded, then thundered to a stop. She twirled the wine stem between her fingers, suddenly nervous. “As much as anything else, I suppose."

  "Have you tried the other settings yet?"

  She didn't pretend ignorance. She knew he was talking about the Rocket. “No. I was satiated last night. I came home and went right to sleep."

  "And tonight?"

  Sophie looked at him over the rim of the glass. “I have a high libido."

  "Mind if I watch?"

  "Are you a voyeur, Ryan?"

  "Absolutely. It's among my numerous failings. I think the female form is beautiful. I like to enjoy it.” His eyes narrowed intently. “I like to watch you strip, I like to watch you masturbate. Seeing you fuck yourself turns me on.” He paused. “Do you mind?"

  "Not at all.” In fact, her pulse gave an excited little skip. “I like having you watch me. It turns me on."

  He took the crystal from her. With his other hand, he tugged on the belt that closed the dressing gown.

  She leaned towards him.

  He moved in her direction to accept her offered kiss.

  "The dressing gown...” she said softly, not kissing him at all. “Is all I have on."

  "Good. The faster you're naked, the better. I have a short attention span."

  No, he didn't.

  He dropped the belt on the tile floor. The silk slid apart. With a smile, she shrugged, slipping the gown off her shoulders. It whispered down her arms. She held onto the material for a moment, a tease. Then she let it float to the floor.

  "You have lovely breasts,” he said.

  Sophie reached for her wine. “Perky.” She took a delicate sip. “But not too pretentious."

  "Are we talking about the wine or your breasts?"

  "The wine,” she said. “Of course."

  She was being a bit of a tease, and she was loving it. The local law was definitely an appreciative audience.

  He cupped her breasts and gently arced the pads of his thumbs across her nipples until they pebbled.

  She didn't kiss him, she nipped at his chin. Then she pivoted and ducked out of his reach as she headed for the living room.

  Ryan followed her. “Where's the remote?"

  She raised her brows, but grabbed the control from the top of the telly and offered it to him.

  "Which sleeve are you going to use?"

  "The Blast off Ridges.” She turned up the volume on Sir Arthur's piece and then slid the silicone sleeve over the red hot bullet.

  "Put one of your feet on the coffee table."

  Hmmm. She wasn't accustomed to a man taking charge so completely, but she certainly wasn't objecting.

  Sophie did as he instructed, feeling somewhat exposed and very, very sexy with her high heeled shoe propped on the table top.

  What he did next surprised her, little miss unshockable sex shoppe owner. He grabbed a pillow from the settee and tossed it on the floor. Then he sat on the cushion, directly in front of her. His face was even with her exposed pussy.

  "I need to grab the lube,” she said.

  "You won't be needing it.” He leaned in and moistened her clit with his mouth.

  She curled her hands into little fists at her sides.

  His tongue worked magic between her legs until her own body's responses took over, and heated desire spilled through her, making her wet.

  He was right. She would not be needing the lube.

  "Touch your breasts."

  She did. They felt full and heavy, and he went back to licking her. Her knees trembled as she tried to support her own weight. “If you keep this up, constable, I won't need the vibrator. And you won't have much of a show."

  "Not to worry. I'm not going to let you climax."

  "Let me?” He already had her panting. And arguing was taking way too much effort. “You're not going to let me?"

  "Are you a control freak?"

  That's what he'd asked, wasn't it? That's what the mumbling against her crotch sounded like to her. “I'm not a control freak."

  "Then let go."

  "I don't hold back in sex."

  "Sophie...?"

  "What?"

  He removed his mouth from her. “Shut. Up."

  "All right, Ryan. Anything, anything at all to get your mouth back on me."

  She felt an orgasm getting close. She instinctively rolled her hips forward, seeking to grind her pelvis against his mouth.

  He sucked her clit into his mouth.

  There...

  Yes. Right there!

  Her hips lifted and she all but humped his hand.

  She was nearly there ... Nearly. She...

  He stopped.

  "Damn it."

  "Swearing isn't very ladylike."

  "You want ladylike? Go find someone else."

  His laugh was full and rich and intoxicating.

  "I told you I wasn't going to let you come."

  Now who was the tease? Damn him, anyway. “You're an ass."

  "You'll be singing my name from the rooftops in half an hour.” He looked at his watch, a stainless steel, practical contraption that fit his personality. “Maybe even less."

  "Don't
flatter yourself."

  "Get the bullet. I'll control the intensity. You hold the ridges wherever it feels the best."

  She lined up the tip of the toy and gently stroked it along her slit. She moved it back and forth in long, sweeping motions.

  "You're still wet enough?” Rather than waiting for an answer, he checked for himself. He found her more than moist. She nearly moaned when she watched him lick her pussy juices from his fingertip. “I'm glad you don't shave."

  "Actually, I do, sometimes. Other times, I let my pubic hair grow out."

  He nodded. “I want you to use the toy with one hand."

  "Okay."

  "And with the other, spread the lips of your cunt wide."

  The word, raw and untamed, hung between them. Nothing polite. Nothing sensual.

  She knew he'd used it deliberately to set the tone.

  "Shall we?"

  Sophie parted her labia, exposing her clit. His placed his splayed hand on the small of her back and drew her a little closer to his face.

  "Stand on your toes."

  "I already have shoes on,” she protested.

  "So you do."

  Several long seconds passed with the swells and crescendo of the overture heightening the tension. When he didn't say anything, Sophie rose onto her toes. “Uhmm,” she said, “I'd like to see you naked, as well."

  "In a bit. I'm enjoying the show.” He moved in ever closer—indecently close. His face was all but in her crotch.

  "Jesus!"

  He turned on the vibrator unexpectedly. A jolt of unadulterated pleasure jolted her from her thoughts.

  "What the ... Ryan?"

  "You'd stalled long enough.” He didn't turn off the device. “Keep your cunt exposed."

  This was strange. Despite what she'd said earlier, she did like being in charge. A man who wrested that from her was tantalising, indeed.

  "Rub it along the insides of your pussy lips."

  She did as he instructed, stroking herself with the Blast off Ridges. Playing with this attachment provided a very different experience than last night's escapade. There weren't any intermittent pulses, but rather a constant, steady, intensity.

  "Lovely,” he said.

  The sound of his voice, low and deep, was intoxicating. His approval was heady.

  "How do the ridges feel?"

  "They're a bit...” She couldn't believe she was actually thinking this. “...much."