Naughty Nibbles Anthology

by Sierra Cartwright, SL Majors, Christy Lockhart

  Her body was at an unusual angle, legs spread, her pussy wide open and fully exposed, her back flat on the mattress. He hadn't restrained her hands, but he might as well have. There wasn't much she could do from this position.

  This man was nothing, if not imaginative.

  She expected things to be like they were before. There was only one setting on the Rocket that they hadn't tried yet. He'd lick her and get her ready for the toy. Maybe even play with her breasts some more.

  But he didn't do any of those things.

  He grabbed her handbag. After unzipping it, he dumped the contents on his dresser. She couldn't quite see what he was doing, even though she moved her head to the side to try and look at his reflection in the mirror.

  He opened a drawer—or at least that's what it sounded like.

  Then another sound, maybe like the top being opened on a tube of lube. “Ryan?"

  She heard the whir of the Rocket coming to life.

  Instead of warming her up, he placed the devilish toy right on her cunt. “Argh!” Digging in her heels, her back arched. She sought out the pleasure and ultimately squirmed away from it.

  He placed a hand on her pelvis, directly above her pubic bone to hold her captive. The sensations were hard core. “What are you doing?"

  Instead of responding, he turned up the intensity.

  She tried to sit up and couldn't ... tried to turn on her side, and couldn't. She thrashed and struggled. He removed his hand from her pelvis. And then she felt another sensation. Oh. She couldn't. He couldn't. Her entire pelvic area was ignited with sparks of intensity.

  He inserted a finger into her ass. She convulsed, trying to push him out. Even with the lube, it was uncomfortable, making her feel full.

  "Bear down,” he said patiently.

  She was overwhelmed.

  He leaned in and sucked on her nipples.

  Sensations came from everywhere at the same time.

  She couldn't take it. She wanted more. More.

  "Show me,” he said.

  Sophie moved her hands between her legs and took control of the Rocket. She spread her labia with a thumb and forefingers, then pulled back the tiny bit of flesh to expose the bud of her clitoris. She put the toy there. Without conscious thought, she began to move her hips

  "That's it. Hump the toy.” He dialled up the control to its most intense setting.

  Sophie felt as if she might come apart. She squeezed her thighs together as much as humanly possible, trying to reach her climax.

  He fucked her ass even more intently. She began to moan and whimper. She'd never experienced anything like this. It was cymbals and crashing crescendos and an explosion of fireworks in her mind.

  "Open your legs,” he told her. “I want to see you come.” When she did, he slipped another finger in her ass.

  She shattered.

  He captured her scream in a deep, searing kiss. Slowly, he backed off the speed of the vibrator.

  He held her, stroked her, caressed her until the shudders passed. Finally, she opened her eyes, and he was there, looking down at her. She smiled. He smiled back.

  "I like your surprises."

  She grinned. “And I like the way you help me take my scientific experiments to the next level. Pushing the envelope and all that."

  "A class I was in recently said that it's now called exploring the paradigm."

  "That works.” She'd explore just about anything with him.

  "Sophie?"

  "Hmm?” Vaguely, she was aware he hadn't yet untied her.

  "What's the next week's show?"

  Cheekily, she licked her upper lip. “We might want to talk about oral fixations."

  "Oh?"

  "Blow jobs and the like."

  "Ah."

  "You interested in participating in more experiments?"

  "Wouldn't want to stand in the way of progress."

  "You're in?” She knew it was a question about more than science, about more than masturbation or blow jobs. It was about them.

  "Love, just try and get rid of me now."

  "I have one thing to say about that...?"

  He raised his dark brows. Oh, this man was sexy. Sexy, sexy, sexy. “You're wearing too many clothes.” She reached for his shirt and pulled it out of his waistband.

  "So I am."

  "Can't hurt to get a jump on next week's show."

  He unfastened his trousers. “Anything for science."

  * * * *

  * * * *

  About the Author

  Bestselling author Christy Lockhart is the author of eleven books from Silhouette Desire, Silhouette Intimate Moments, Elloras Cave and Loose Id and now, happily, Total-e-bound. She also had a historical romance produced in audio format.

  Originally from Manchester, the world is her playground, and she now calls the splendor of Rocky Mountain Colorado home. She is a past president of Colorado Romance Writers and a past Board Member of Romance Writers of America. She's the recipient of Colorado Romance Writers Writer of the Year Award, RWA's prestigious Emma Merritt Service Award, along with the Coeur Du Bois Love of Romance Award.

  As a certified life coach, she helps inspire others to live their dreams, as well.

  Christy loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at www.totalebound.com.

  Also by Christy Lockhart

  Naughty Nibbles: Everyday, in a Letter

  * * * *

  * * * *

  IMAGINE

  SL Majors

  Dedication

  For Claire and everyone at Total-E-Bound ... Thanks for the opportunity.

  I love working with you!

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Guinness: ARTHUR GUINNESS SON & COMPANY LIMITED

  Black Magic chocolates: Societe des Produits Nestle S.A. CORPORATION

  Chapter One

  About stinking time Adam showed up.

  She'd been fantasising about him for months. And now it was time to turn those fantasies into reality.

  Chloe needed to be with a real man, someone who would give her what she wanted more than anything: A screaming orgasm. She was done with gents who offered polite, little tingles of release. She was definitely over faking it to save some bloke's poor little, fragile ego. It was time for a writhing, exciting, suck-the-breath from her lungs orgasm.

  And maybe, just maybe, Adam would be the one to do it for her.

  She was already damp between her legs.

  Damp? No, mark that one through. She was wet. Dripping, sopping wet.

  Finally. Finally, a man to make all her dreams come true. And it was about damn time, as well. It would be nice to have someone she wouldn't have to coach. Being a thoroughly modern woman, she'd even told a few men specifically what to do and when to do it. Now! And with one fellow, oh, please, not so soon.

  And where had it gotten her?

  Sexually frustrated, that's where. She's had no choice but to turn to a vibrator for company on long cold nights. On. Off. Clever, that.

  But this man. Wow. More sizzle than a bonfire and firecrackers. Maybe a little treacle toffee thrown in as a bonus.

  "Get on that bed, Chloe. Now."

  She shivered at the command in his sexy, wonderful voice. Command? From Adam? Not only was it unexpected, it was a total bite of delicious.

  Now that she heard that tone, she was TTO—Totally Turned On. His voice oozed richness, dripped with seduction and had a ripple of brogue through it. Score!

  The overhead light was dimmed, making it a bit difficult to see his features. But no matter, she knew them intimately.

  Since she'd seen his sketches months ago, she'd been feeding her nighttime fantasies with thoughts of him, him in her bed, inside her.

  Although what it was about him that made her a quivering mass of hormones, she couldn't
exactly say.

  His cheekbones weren't sharply chiselled. No, they were more sweeping, inviting her to trace her fingertips across them. Usually, she was attracted to men with more angular features, but this time, this man ... Well, it just went to show that you never knew what was going to appeal to your inner woman.

  "I said, get on the bed."

  Wondering where this was going, but more than game to find out, she sat on the side of the bed and wiggled her hips until the backs of her knees touched the mattress.

  "I want to see your hair. Take it down."

  Usually she pinned it up, trying to keep it out of her face. Well, if she told the truth, she clipped it back to keep from sending herself ‘round the bend. She'd twist strands around her index finger while she worked, hour after hour. It was a nasty habit and it distracted everyone around her.

  Reaching behind her, she removed the clip and shook her head, allowing her hair to cascade around her shoulders.

  Seeing the way he looked at her, his eyes narrowing, she was glad she hadn't gone into that fancy new salon and had the lot of it lopped off ... not that she hadn't been tempted.

  "Lovely.” He closed the distance between them, then he fisted his hand in her hair. He tugged a little, forcing her head back.

  He nipped at her lower lip. Oh. Oh.

  Then he drew that bottom lip between his teeth.

  Ohhhh.

  Warmth drizzled through her, and she was still fully dressed. Lord help her when she lay before him, naked. Would it be spontaneous combustion?

  "Open your mouth, Chloe."

  "Yes.” She liked to kiss. Really, really liked to kiss. His tongue met hers.

  Breathe.

  She needed air in her lungs. Then she forgot about something as insignificant as survival when he filled her mouth. Parry and spar. Assault and retreat.

  He knew exactly what she wanted. What a dream come true.

  She dug her fingers into his hair. Tit for tat. She generally went for the obvious—tall, dark and handsome. Call her shallow. Until now. That he was such a departure from what she usually fancied made her consuming obsession a bit of a surprise.

  He was as fair as they came. A golden specimen of a man. His hair, though, was thick. Maybe she could hold on for the ride. Not only was it thick, but it was outrageously long, unfashionable, but what the heck, it fit his artistic good-looks.

  Soon, way too soon, he ended the kiss.

  "Take off your shirt,” he said. He went to the nightstand and turned on a lamp.

  She pulled her blouse from the waistband of her skirt and unfastened each button, one at a time. His eyes blazed with impatience, which, of course, only slowed her down. He should feel some of this driving hunger, too.

  She shrugged her right shoulder, then let the silk slide down her arm.

  "Chloe—” The word was all but a growl.

  With a laugh, she shucked the blouse completely, allowing it to fall to the carpeted floor.

  "Now the bra.” He folded his arms across his chest. He was still fully dressed, she noticed.

  Reaching behind her, she unfastened the tiny hooks. Seductively, she rolled her upper body forward, providing some modesty as she removed the bra.

  "Good. Now stand up."

  So much for modesty. She dropped the bra, not caring that she was being untidy. Tomorrow was Sunday; she could clean then.

  She stood. Adam never took his gaze from her. Most men she'd been with were over-eager and would have already started groping her. Either that or they were so focused on their own woodies that they wouldn't have noticed her breasts were bare.

  He reached for her necklace. The pendant hanging from the golden chain was in the shape of a tear drop.

  "Nice,” he said, tracing the outline.

  "A gift to me from me. A reminder never to shed a tear over something that can't shed one for me."

  "A philosopher."

  "No. I'm rather shallow, actually."

  "Any woman who thinks that, isn't."

  "Who's the philosopher now?"

  He cupped her breasts in his palms. Closing his hands, he squeezed, gently, then with more and more firmness. Ohhh, it seemed he knew a few things to do with those long, lean, artistic fingers. Yum wrapped in a gift and tied with a bow.

  Slowly he closed his hands, massaging her tender flesh. She moaned.

  "Open your eyes,” he said. “I want to see you watching me."

  That request was different. A new lover, new experiences. With the room's dim lighting and the intensity he radiated, there was a feral gleam in his golden eyes. It captivated. He drew her breasts together and slowly, oh-so slowly moved his hands until he had captured each of her nipples between a thumb and forefinger.

  This close, she inhaled the scent of him. Man and artistic power, interlaced with a bite of the evening's spring rainstorm. Fresh, heady, totally intoxicating.

  He squeezed her nipples tightly, harder than she was accustomed too, and she sucked in several shallow breaths.

  "Eyes open,” he reminded her.

  Who knew that would be so damn difficult? She wanted to bask in the sensations, and he was denying her that.

  He tugged on her nipples, pulling them out and then up. “Argh ... It..."

  "Hurts?"

  "Yes."

  "Too much?"

  "No.” She shook her head. “Don't ... Don't stop."

  He didn't. In fact, he increased the pressure. Her underwear was totally saturated.

  He twisted her nipples.

  Her eyes closed. She moaned.

  "Did you come?"

  Chloe's entire body had clenched and spasmed. It would do no good to lie. He'd know.

  "Look at me.” He added more intensity to his grip.

  "Adam!"

  "Did you come?” he repeated.

  "Yes! I did."

  "Naughty girl,” he murmured, leaning in closer, whispering the words against her ear and sending shivers of delight through her. “Did you have permission to orgasm?"

  Permission? Who was this man? And who did he think he was? Chloe Anderson, owner of Mad Ads and director of the town's most important project in fifty years, didn't ask permission from any man before she climaxed. “I didn't ask,” she said.

  "We'll be seeing about that, lass."

  Her nipples throbbed with pain, but she didn't want him to stop. Then he nipped her earlobe and released his grip on her nipples at the same time.

  The sensations overwhelmed. She staggered back a step, nearly collapsing on the bed.

  She pressed her hand against her heart, as if that would steady its gallop.

  She tried to find something sassy to say, something outrageous even, anything to tip the balance of power so that she had the upper hand. To tell the truth, though, she'd never been more turned on. TTO, that was for sure.

  "Take off your skirt."

  She unbuttoned the top button, then pulled down the zipper. Hooking her thumbs in the waistband, she started to wiggle the material down.

  He encircled her wrist with his hand. “Turn away from me."

  Oh. Preferred to see her bottom first, did he?

  Feeling slightly more vulnerable faced away from him, she slowly lowered the skirt.

  "Is that a garter belt?” he asked. Was that approval in his voice? Now, she wished she could see him.

  "Yes.” She was very glad she'd dressed so carefully tonight. Not that she ever would in the future. Hooking the stockings to the belt was nothing short of a pain in the rear. She'd ruined one stocking by slicing a manicured nail straight through the silk.

  "Keep going,” he urged.

  The skirt swished to the floor and she stepped out of it.

  When she would have turned, he grabbed her around the waist. “Bend over."

  Yipes. This man was all about wrestling away her control. Not that she was a control freak. Not at all. She just liked things her own way.

  "I can smell your heat."

  Her knees threatened
to buckle.

  "Stretch your arms out."

  "I'll have nothing to hold on to."

  "And?"

  Maybe she should be more careful what she fantasised about in future. Maybe a safe young fellow who was solicitous and asked what she wanted him to—

  Damn it to hell!

  She cried out, totally taken off guard by his smart smack to her right buttock. Her skin stung and burned. “What the hell—"

  "That was for coming without permission."

  "You can't—"

  "I did."

  She tried to stand, but he captured her shoulders and forced her face down into the duvet. He was so strong, stronger than she'd given him credit for when she'd first seen him. A man who was that lean and artistic should not be so powerful. It just wasn't right. If she could have, she would have stomped her foot like a spoiled princess.

  But this was what she wanted. A man who would take her to the edge, and then, when she least expected it, push her right over it.

  "Spread your legs, lass.” He stroked her pussy through her panties.

  She knew he was feeling the dampness at the crotch. Even though her panties were only a filmy bit of fabric, she ached to feel him, flesh to flesh.

  "You didn't come again, did you?"

  "No,” she whispered. The feeling was there, though, close, and getting closer at the naughtiness of his touch and the vulnerability that shivered in her belly.

  "I'm sorry, love. I didn't hear you."

  "No. I didn't.” He was clever, this one was. By having her face down, she couldn't read his expression. It made the experience a whole lot more dangerous. Oh, yes, and thrilling, as well.

  He worked his fingers beneath her panties. His touch was exquisite, light, gentle. Then he thumbed her clit.

  "Ahhh...” If she could have, she would have shoved her hand in her mouth to stop the sound of her moans.

  "It wouldn't take much, though, would it, for you to squeeze my hand as your body convulsed? Not with as wet as you are. As hot as you are.” He parted her folds. “Your smell fills the room."

  Her cheeks burned with humiliation.

  "So the idea, you shameless wanton, is for you to hold off on an orgasm until I say you can come. Am I clear?"