She wasn't sure she could take any more.
She was shattered.
He bent his knees a little more so he could penetrate even deeper. His thrusts were just this side of painful. She felt filled and complete.
"Chloe."
She laughed. He was on the edge, and she liked it. It might be good to receive, but giving was a kick, too.
She squeezed her internal muscles.
"Woman!” His hot ejaculate spurted into her. “You're sensational."
Slowly he withdrew.
Once he released her wrists, she shook her head to clear it. He kept his hands around her waist while she regained her balance. Her entire body hummed with vibrant awareness.
"Not so concerned with work?” he asked, teased.
"Work?” She laughed. “What work?"
He turned her to face him.
"You didn't even undress,” she protested. Undress? He barely took time to lower his trousers.
"Who had time? I wanted to be inside you.” Then he claimed her mouth and kissed her so deeply her legs became rubbery again.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, surrendering.
He reached between their bodies. Parting her folds, he stroked her. She tried to protest, but the words were buried by the swirling of his tongue.
She was too sore to come again, wasn't she? If nothing else, she was too satiated to possibly have another climax.
But he didn't know that. Or if he did, he didn't care.
He rubbed her, finger-fucked her.
Her moan was lost.
Unbelievably, she jerked against his hands and came.
"Maybe world-record time,” he said.
"Are you gloating?” she asked, around a sound that was more purr than anything.
"Me?"
"You,” she said. Chloe dropped to her knees and took him in her mouth. She cleaned their commingled cum from his cock, and then, looking up at him, ran her tongue across her upper lip.
He began to harden.
"Turn about,” she told him, “is fair play."
Chapter Five
Having Adam around was dangerous to her brain cells. He exhausted her to the point she forgot everything. She hadn't even remembered to bring the wine glasses back inside last night.
She went outside. It had rained, and the air hung thick with humidity. She scooped up a glass and tipped out the rainwater.
Water dripped from the leaves of the tree. She would never look at her downy birch the same way again. A tree as an accoutrement to sex. Who knew?
One thing she did know, if she dawdled much longer, she'd be late for her job. As it was, if she hurried, she'd be able to stop by the town square and take a look at the statue's progress.
The canvas over him was thick and heavy with rain water. But she didn't let that stop her.
What was in a name?
He did bear a stunning resemblance to her Adam. Muscled in the right places, and definitely well-endowed. This Adam was anatomically perfect, much like the man in her backyard last night.
"I rang you last night."
Chloe jumped. “Sarah.” Feeling like a kid caught stealing a piece of chocolate before breakfast, she dropped the canvas back into place. She wiped her damp hand on her skirt.
"I was going to invite you round for a cup of tea.” When Chloe said nothing, Sarah fished. “You must have been busy."
"Did I tell you Adam has to be moved?"
Sarah exhaled an exasperated breath. “Chloe."
"They want him out of sight."
"Well, so do I."
Chloe squared her shoulders. “Maybe I'll see you at the dedication?"
"Chloe, wait. I'm sorry.” Sarah laid a hand on Chloe's arm. “It's just since this statue has come into your life, there's no space left for anyone else."
Who could have guessed all the problems the two Adams were going to cause in her life? But she wasn't about to give up either one.
With a mumbled excuse, she hurried off to work.
She spent hours working on invitations to the council members and press. For spite, she considered using Adam's picture on the invite. But she was in enough trouble as it was.
The next few days passed in a blur of activity and planning. Statues were arranged, security was hired to keep curious onlookers from sneaking peeks, flowers were planted, and artists from all over the world descended on Camden-on-the-Water in advance of Saturday's dedication.
Frustratingly, her Adam was absent.
He'd always seemed to know when she hungered for him, but since he'd fucked her hard, against the tree, he'd kept his distance.
If this kept up, she'd need more AA batteries for her vibrator.
Friday night after the artists’ reception, she was exhausted. Her cheeks ached from smiling. She went home, stripped off her clothes and climbed beneath the covers, only to toss and turn.
The only thing more elusive than Adam was sleep.
Wind rattled the window panes in their casings. The good news was, sun was forecast for tomorrow's dedication festivities.
But knowing that everything was planned and handled didn't help.
She wanted Adam.
Wanted him in her, on her, arousing her.
An orgasm would help her sleep. Definitely help her sleep.
Chloe rolled to her side. She propped a pillow between her knees. With a sigh, she parted her folds to expose her clit.
She recalled his touch, how electrifying it was.
She closed her eyes and reached for a fantasy as she teased herself. The next time she saw Adam she would be naked, waiting for him. She'd lay on her back, her legs wide. His golden eyes would darken a shade as he knelt between her legs to tongue her pussy. She'd lift her hips and feel him there. He'd slide his fingers into her, making sure she was moist before penetrating her with mind-numbing...
Nothing.
The fantasy dissipated like fog in the summer's heat.
Chloe had a very active imagination, but this time she couldn't hold onto the fantasy for more than a minute, not when she wanted him.
Damn it.
Frustrated, she dragged the pillow from between her knees and tossed it at the wall.
She needed Adam, needed to satiate the urges.
Not stopping too long to think, she slipped from the bed. Reaching into her wardrobe, she grabbed a raincoat—courtesy of a shopping trip to London—and slid into a pair of high-heeled shoes.
Camden-on-the-Water's streets were deserted. The rain had become nothing more than a light drizzle. At this point, it wouldn't have really mattered if it were a deluge.
With single-minded determination, she headed for the park.
She knew what time security guards would make their rounds. After all, she'd hired every one of them; handy, that.
As wet and heavy as it was, the canvas covering the statue was difficult to work with. But Chloe didn't let that deter her. Nothing stood between her and her goals. Or between her and a box of Black Magic chocolates. And especially not between her and ‘ready for liftoff’ sex.
In less than sixty seconds, he was exposed, in all his glory, big balls, erect penis and all.
Life was good. “Hello, Adam.” She smiled, and the tension gnawing at her receded, bit by glorious bit. “I missed you."
Shucking her coat, she dumped it in a careless heap on the ground and climbed up onto the pedestal. “I've been missing you,” she said. “I've been thinking about you, imagining us together."
"Imagining a screaming orgasm?” he asked.
"And you're just the man to give it to me.” She straddled his knee and leaned in, toward his sculptured, golden body.
"Put your arms around my neck."
"Uhmm,” she said. Okay, so it was more like a purr. “This is nice.” And it was. The days of loneliness had gotten to her. And now she just wanted to feel everything—his hardness to her softness, the coolness of his body against the heat of her sex.
"Rub your clit on me,�
� he said. “Against my leg. Rub it hard, just short of hurting."
"Do you know how naughty this is?"
"We've done it outside before."
"Not in public. Not when a constable might be making his rounds."
"Maybe I'd make you show yourself to him."
She gasped. “You wouldn't!"
"Oh, Chloe. You've only to let go and experience all life has to offer. I can feel you getting wet."
"And hot. I ... I..."
"Don't come,” he whispered.
"But—"
"Not yet."
"I want my cock in you."
She blinked at him. Her throat suddenly dried. “That thing will never fit."
"On the contrary, my lady. It's already been in you."
"Adam—"
His arms wrapped around her, cradling, comforting, encouraging. He bent his knees.
She licked her upper lip. “I don't think this is possible."
"Chloe."
"All right.” Then after another breath, she said, “Right, then.” She wanted this. She hadn't left a warm bed just to rub her needy little pussy against his knee, then turn around and go home, had she? “Let's give it a go."
"That's my girl."
His approval was all she needed.
She held on tighter, and he cupped her buttocks to support her. Slowly, oh-so-slowly, she lowered herself onto his cock. She cried out as he filled her completely.
He was strong and powerful, all man. Her hands tangled in his hair as she rode him.
"Chloe, what you do to me,” he said.
"What you do to me,” she corrected. She snuggled tighter against him, loving the feeling of being in his arms. Then he pumped vigorously, and despite herself, she sank her teeth into him and came, screaming, writhing, holding nothing back, giving all she had to offer as he fucked her.
When she was replete, gasping for air, she felt his thigh muscles tense beneath her. His back became a ripple of muscle and sinew. “I want you to come,” she said, reaching to cup his testicles. “Come inside me, Adam."
He did, shuddering.
She stroked golden hair back from his face and traced one of his eyebrows with her thumb. “You satisfy me."
He kissed her. “You know where to find me."
"Guess this means I have to go."
"Only if you're worried about the constable seeing you naked, humping me."
She laughed. He helped her to climb off him, and she couldn't resist licking a drop of their juices from the tip of his cock.
"Perhaps you shouldn't go quite yet."
Hearing the sound of voices, she accepted his help back onto the ground.
She'd barely buttoned her coat when two security guards came into view, one of them bouncing a baton against his own, open palm.
"George,” she said. “James.” She pressed her hand against her chest. Absently, she noticed that her necklace was missing. She frowned, trying to think. She'd had it on when she left the house, hadn't she?
"What's going on here?"
She stepped into the light. “You gave me a terrible fright.” The best defence was a good offence, right?
"Chloe?” George asked.
James shined a flashlight in her general direction, as if the park's lighting wasn't enough. Part of the reason she selected them was their enthusiasm. “I couldn't sleep,” she confessed. “Nerves, I suppose. Excitement.” Was her voice as hoarse, as rushed as it sounded to her? Maybe they'd put it down to her being scared. “So I wandered down here just to make certain everything was all right. I found that Adam was uncovered. Kids, or someone who couldn't wait to get a peek, I'll wager. I wonder if you could help me put the canvas back in place?"
"Anything for you, Chloe,” George said.
James shoved his flashlight into its holster and put away the baton.
The two gents picked up the canvas and she took a moment to look up at the man who filled her nights and consumed her fantasies. From down here, he looked even more impressive than he had while she was riding him. Lady Godiva had nothing on her, did she?
* * * *
"And now ... The moment we've all been waiting for..."
Preferring to be part of the audience and see Adam in all his erotic glory, Chloe had turned the statue's actual unveiling over to the mayor.
Surprisingly, she'd actually slept after she'd gone home last night. She'd woken up early, though, questioning her own sanity. Sarah had been right to worry about her. What kind of woman obsessed about a statue? What kind of woman spent more time with a fantasy man than with a flesh and blood one?
The midnight rendezvous, fucking him, had been the ultimate in imagination.
"What're you thinking?” Sarah asked, leaning toward Chloe.
"I'm glad it's nearly over."
"You should be proud of yourself. And maybe you can have a normal life now."
Whatever that was.
The mayor nodded, and the band struck up. The sun came out from behind a cloud. “May I present ... Adam!” The mayor tugged the covering free.
And he was magnificent. Every hard, chiselled bit of him. Muah. She could kiss him.
And she tried to ignore the part of her that reminded her she already had, and in some very naughty places.
The gathered crowd clapped. Photographers, several up from London for the day, snapped pictures.
In the sunlight, something glinted. Well, his entire body did, but something out of the ordinary glistened.
She and Sarah waited until the gathered people disbursed, then Chloe moved in for a closer look at his hand.
"What is that?” Sarah asked.
Chloe climbed up onto the pedestal. There, tucked his fist, was her necklace, the crystal pendant protected by his thumb. There was no way the jewellery could have gotten there. His hand was completely closed.
"Isn't that yours?” Sarah asked.
"Uhmm. Yeah."
"Why is a statue holding your necklace?"
Chloe's pussy flooded with juices. She'd been telling herself that he, and their lovemaking, her orgasms, had been nothing but a figment of imagination.
Weren't they?
"Chloe?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
* * * *
* * * *
About the Author
SL Majors enjoys living on the edge. She pens stories to tantalise and arouse, maybe shock and, hopefully, to make you think.
From her earliest years exploring England and Wales (and finding out early what nettles are!), she's learnt that things aren't always as they seem. She hopes to capture that in her stories.
She encourages you to delight in life and the unexpected, embracing each experience. It's her greatest hope that at the end of her stories, you'll say, “What if?"
Email: [email protected]
SL Majors loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at www.totalebound.com.
Also by SL Majors
Naughty Nibbles: Balls to the Walls
* * * *
* * * *
FED UP
Sierra Cartwright
Dedication
For everyone who's gotten to the point that they've just had enough.
Wouldn't it be nice if we could let loose, even just a bit ... ?
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Armani suit: GIORGIO ARMANI S.P.A. CORPORATION
Crown Royal: Diageo North America, Inc. CORPORATION
Chapter One
Elizabeth Driscoll was fed up. She'd had enough. She was mad as hell and wasn't going to take it anymore ... And whatever other ways she could come up with to describe her fury. All she knew was ... she was pissed.
She so had not come all the way to England from the States a year ago to marry the man of her dreams and then sit home alone all day, bore
d out of her ever-living mind, lonely, and sexually unfulfilled.
No freaking way.
So, he was a hotshot barrister.
So, he had an enormous case load.
So, he was important.
So freaking what?
He'd chased her across an ocean and half a continent to woo her. Now he wanted her to be the little woman, keep his home nice and tidy, have his shirts ironed, his pants pressed, a nice, hot dinner waiting, along with a Crown Royal, neat, poured at the end of a long, hard day. Mr. Importance wanted his back rubbed a couple of evenings a week. Oh, and while he was working on a case in his study late at night, it was perfectly acceptable to refill that empty whisky glass.
If that's what he wanted, he had married the wrong woman.
And wasn't that too bad for him, because she was wearing his ring. He was stuck with her. For better or worse. If he kept it up, it'd be worse for him, much, much worse.
Enough was enough.
She was tired of being ignored.
Her cellular phone rang. Her heart leapt into her throat as she checked the caller identification. Jon. Even after all this time, no matter how angry she was at him, she was still totally, stupidly mad for him.
"Hey, baby,” he said. Even with the fuzziness of wireless service, his voice had the richness of a fine wine on a cold night.
Her shoulders dropped, her pussy moistened in anticipation. She loved his voice, especially when he whispered naughty things about what he was going to do for her.
And he'd do them, as well...
At one time, soon after they'd exchanged vows, he'd hurry home. She'd never forget the days he'd drop his briefcase and sweep her into his arms.
They wouldn't make it out of the foyer before he kissed her deeply. With his mouth, with his hands, he'd take long minutes to let her know how glad he was she was in his home, in his life.
For the first few months of their marriage, she'd lost weight because they'd rarely made it into the kitchen for food. Instead, he'd carry her straight up to their bedroom, never minding the steep narrowness of the stairs.
"I hate to tell you this..."
She waited. She wasn't going to make it easy on him.
Naughty Nibbles Anthology Page 11
