by Dani Collins
“It makes my clit hurt,” she admitted, enjoying that word almost as much. She dared to part her knees a little and run her hand up her own inner thigh.
“No,” he said, drawing back from her saliva-coated nipple. “I want the other one. Give it to me.”
Wrestling with the constraint in the neckline of his shirt, she exposed her other breast. “But I need—”
He stilled her hand from climbing beneath the shirt. “In a minute.” He attacked her other breast, fluttering and nipping, spiking hot current after hot current into her belly, where tingles exploded and radiated, until her pussy ached with fullness. Sweet, hot readiness. “Now spread your legs and let me see,” he said, guiding her hands to the floor behind her.
She leaned back, letting him press her knees into skidding outward.
Using a light touch, he dragged the shirt upward, so the hem barely grazed the damp hair of her mound. Like a flower oozing nectar, her lips bloomed apart, shiny and ripe.
Dominic nodded. “Now you’re ready, aren’t you?”
“I want you to fuck me,” she said, staring at the rod that would fill and fulfill. She was so wet she probably wouldn’t even feel her own fingers at this point. She needed that thick weapon to do the job properly.
“That’s tomorrow,” he said, rolling onto his back. “Today, you come here. Come—” he lowered his tone to a suggestive level “—here.” He touched his goatee. “Give me a big, wet kiss, Arianne.”
Oh, God. She couldn’t help herself. Her own physical hunger had her crawling across the yellow sheet, glancing once at his smug smile, then bending to catch one of his flat little nipples in her teeth.
He bit off a curse then clamped hard hands around her swaying breasts. “Two can play that one, darling.” He forced her to lift and move so her breasts hovered above him, and played with her nipples again, forcing untold pressure into her loins. She was going to come just from this, except she couldn’t. She was close, so close, and yet nowhere near the edge.
And all the while she stared over her shoulder at the rigid thrust of his cock. The scent of him rose up, urging her to taste. She had liked the feel of him in her mouth and with that, at least, she’d gained some confidence. “Please let me go,” she begged. “I want to suck your cock.”
His body shuddered and he let go of one breast to catch back his own orgasm. “I was kidding about racing to get each other off, Arianne,” he muttered against her breast. “Fuck. Give me a chance to enjoy this, would you? Because I’ll tell you what, love. As long as you’re licking and sucking down there, I’ll be licking and sucking up here. You come as many times as you want and I won’t stop until you’re finished. How does that sound?”
She didn’t answer, just turned and slid into position, hiking one knee to his far side and straddling his head. She lowered to swallow the head of the cock that had thrust with such gentle ferocity against the back of her throat yesterday. It felt different upside down and she wasn’t sure where to put her elbows or—
“Mmmmph!”
He pushed her legs open, dropping her crotch right on him. The flat of his tongue swept up the center of her, abrasive against the sensitive clit that hadn’t seen hard use until a few days ago. With his gloved fingers digging into the backs of her thighs to spread her wide, he lapped and circled and she came with sudden, blinding surprise, moaning with regret. It was fast and somehow not hard enough and too soon.
She humped against his lips, his stubbled goatee scraping her inner lips while she searched for the deeper satisfaction she needed, rocking her slippery mouth on his knob as she discovered only a deeper hunger beneath that light orgasm. It was so frustrating she almost cried.
Against the small of her back, she felt his hands flutter, realizing he’d removed his gloves when their feathery weight landed against her spine. The sure heat of his bare hands followed the crease of her ass to the lips against his face. Opening her fully, he pushed two fingers into her dripping tunnel, filling her. Finally.
She clamped down on him with pussy muscles and throat muscles, eyes rolling into the back of her head with ecstasy. He sucked at her clit and she sucked on his cock, penetrated at both ends, full, needy, writhing in pleasure. Rubbing herself on his hard body, she moved his cock in her mouth and fist, met the thrust of his fingers, slid her clit along the pad of his tongue and humped her slippery pussy all over his juice-lubricated face.
Pressure built. She rocked harder, ruthlessly pulled at his cock, hollowing her cheeks with the suction, approaching her peak. He thickened in her mouth. She burned against his lips.
Suddenly he grabbed a fistful of her hair, painfully pulling her away as he rolled, his head still buried high between her thighs, his lips closed in a tight purse on her clit.
“No! Let me—”
Hot come hit her neck and her own release exploded.
Chapter Seven
She awoke to a room lit only by firelight. She was on the floor, swaddled in a nest of soft yellow sheet and puffy duvet. The room was silent, empty of Dominic and his case.
Stretching from her balled position, she caught her breath at the ache and pull in her muscles, the bruised-yet-sated throb between her thighs.
The lingering scent of their lengthy sex-fest rose around her, causing a tingle of desire despite her state of supreme physical satisfaction. She would have stayed here and reveled in it if not for an urgent need to use the bathroom.
She hadn’t been in the bathroom before and found a luxuriously appointed en suite in muted sage and brushed brass. The hotel supplied toiletries and pampering items: bubble bath and a toothbrush, soothing aloe lotion and a soft chenille robe.
“Have a bath,” Dominic’s note read, his scrawl angled differently to Jason’s. “Visit the masseuse and charge it to the room. I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon. Call Jason. He’ll worry if you don’t go home.”
Smiling, she glanced at the clock on the bedside table. Five-twenty in the morning, so hardly a good time to call, and really, he knew where she was. How worried could he be?
“Your homework is to think about how you want it to happen,” he had said as they’d lolled before the fire, his kisses across the plump rise of her mound incredibly distracting.
“Naked,” she had managed to reply. She’d wanted this game finished. She was ready to be Jason’s lover, to show him she wasn’t afraid of her own sexuality or his wild tastes.
He had lifted his head to regard her with his deep brown eyes. “You want me to be naked?”
“Yes. Completely, utterly naked.”
“Will you wear what I give you?”
“Of course,” she had promised, even though part of her wanted them both naked, skin to skin, soul to soul.
“Will you come to me like this? Hot and ready?” His attention to her loins had been going on for a while, making her dizzy. “So wet I could drive into you once and make you cry it feels so good?”
“Yes, and I want you to fuck me against the wall—”
Her swollen sheath had taken the plunge of a deep finger and her climax had been so deliciously exquisite, the glory of it had lodged in her chest, clogging her throat and stopping her breath. She had cried, her sobbing release pure, emotional liberation.
She hugged the delicious memory to herself and shivered with anticipation for later. Smiling, she drew herself a bath.
* * *
Jason was worried. He snapped awake at the sound of every passing car, waiting for the cut of headlights that might suggest Arianne was entering her driveway. He didn’t really expect or want her to come home—he’d exhausted her. They’d exhausted each other. But he needed to know she was all right.
He’d been kidding when he’d teased that he wanted to make it so good she’d cry. The way she had exploded with climax, cried her heart out then passed out had unnerved him. He hadn’t known what to do except snuggle her with blankets and let her sleep.
Coming up on an elbow, he stared at the clock. Five-forty. Time to qui
t pretending he’d get any sleep.
Damn, that woman was turning him inside out.
And what the hell was with asking him to fuck her against the wall? Completely naked? Unmasked was what she’d meant. Was she taunting him? Did she know he was Dominic? Maybe she simply had so little experience to draw on fantasywise that his heated suggestion from a few days ago had left an impression.
She kept him guessing until nine-thirty, when he was pounding back his second cup of coffee, watching her house for movement, aware of a nagging duty to get some work done. Like her, he’d been neglecting his business while he drowned in the sensual pleasures they were sharing. He picked up the phone when he saw her number.
“Hey.”
“Hi.” She sounded sleepy and smug. “You’re not really worried, are you?”
“You haven’t come home yet. Is Dom with you?”
A brief pause. “No.” She said it as if he ought to know better.
He ran his thumb along the stubble he had yet to remove. He would be freshly shaved when he saw her later, wearing only the goatee he applied with glue, but… “Arianne, are you okay with everything that’s happening? Be honest.”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Because she had cried.
“Because it’s a lot of change in a few days. Even though you said it wasn’t my job to protect you, I still need to know you’re protecting yourself.”
“Like with condoms? Dom and I worked out that we don’t need them.” He heard a gurgle of humor in her voice.
“Would you get serious?”
“I can’t help it. This is fun for me, being the one to laugh at you for a change. Since when are you a worrywart?”
He scowled and let her hear some of his impatience at how obtuse that question was. “We’re friends, Arianne. Friends care about each other.”
The resulting silence made him feel about thirteen years old, flooded with hundred-proof testosterone, clumsily trying to make advances on one of the nubile sprites who surrounded him.
“Thank you for saying that,” she said with warm shyness. “I’ve often thought you were just making sure your neighbor didn’t put her head in the oven and cause a lot of unnecessary publicity at your end of the block.”
“Tsk, why would you think something like that?”
“Because… I don’t know. You didn’t really want to have dinner that first time I asked, after Craig and Celine left. Did you? You weren’t particularly thrilled when we were dining as foursomes.”
He’d been too sexually infatuated, wanting her even more after the breakups. Despite how sophisticated she had looked in her tailored suits, he’d learned quickly that she was an ingenue. What he’d been taking as subtle invitation had been sexual chemistry she didn’t know how to act on.
He, with his vast experience, had acted by demolishing what was important to her. She’d been earnest and heartbroken and looking to commiserate. He’d been glad their partners were gone, but feeling like a shit about all of it.
“Truth?” he asked, willing to admit this much. “I was afraid I’d make a pass and knew you weren’t ready.”
She sighed. “Yeah, I was a mess, wasn’t I? Looking back, I’d say an affair would have been the best thing for both of us. Get back on the horse, right?”
“My situation was different. Celine and I weren’t married. We didn’t have the sort of commitment you and Craig did. I know why you felt so betrayed.” He rubbed his stiff face, trying to erase the ache of guilt still making him cringe.
“Do you want the truth?” Her voice lowered conspiratorially. “I married him because I thought I should. I don’t think either of us was very happy.”
“Are you happy now?” His grip on the phone tightened.
“I am. I’m really glad that Dominic has come into my life.”
Her warm, deep sincerity made him draw in a long, careful breath, holding it while he examined her statement from all sides.
“How did he come into yours?” she asked.
He released his pent-up breath in a choke. “What?”
“When did you…cross paths with him?”
“God, I don’t know,” he said dismissively, then mentally kicked himself. This was it, an opportunity to explain a little so she might understand if the truth ever came out. Twisting on the rack of not knowing if this was really the right thing to do, he said, “There was a high-school play about pirates. One of the leads pulled out at the last minute, and I was recruited because I could memorize so fast.”
“They didn’t have an understudy?”
“It was high school, Arianne. They barely had a cast.”
“How did they know you could memorize quickly?”
“Science nerds like me aren’t made. We’re born this dorky and wear it like a sign.”
“You’re not dorky! You’re so smart it’s scary, and I like it. It makes me feel like I can ask you anything and you’ll always give me the right answer.”
He leaned his hips on the counter and picked up his cooling coffee. The tepidness of the liquid didn’t matter. He was warm through and through. God, was she seriously making him flush with pleasure like a freaking adolescent?
“So you and Dominic came together there?” she asked.
“I…” His voice dried up and he had to take another gulp of coffee. “Something like that,” he replied, thinking back to how the pirate costume had allowed him to be what he wasn’t. He’d found an assertive streak he hadn’t known he owned.
Chicks had gone wild for it so he’d pushed it, learning to fence through college and even playing with light BDSM until he’d found his personal limits. Over time he’d pulled most of Dominic’s best traits into his mainstream persona, but he still liked to don the costume. Other people ran marathons to test their physical endurance. He tested his sexual control, and just like a good pair of shoes gave runners distance, a mask and tight laces upped his self-discipline.
“Are you angry with me for continuing to see him?” she asked softly.
“No,” he stated with flat finality. “But I’m afraid he’ll hurt you. I don’t want him to push you farther than you want things to go.”
“We’re going all the way later,” she said with a hum of anticipation. Bragging almost. Oh, she’d found her inner slut, all right, and the bitch had a wicked streak.
He grinned and, despite his concerns, his dick twitched. Setting down his coffee, he adjusted his growing erection. “You’re sure that’s what you want?”
“Absolutely. I can’t wait. Jason,” she added in a sultry whisper.
The hairs rose all over his body. He would be Jason, but she wouldn’t know it.
* * *
Arianne arrived from the spa scrubbed, kneaded, fragrant and revived. A light lunch and a glass of California chardonnay had left her replete and vaguely languid. When she entered the room, she found Dominic had closed the thick curtains and lit candles. He was making up the bed with white satin sheets. She said the only thing that came to mind. “You’re not naked.”
“I will be,” he said in his amused English accent. “Are you naked under that?”
She curled her fingers into the luxurious lapels of the robe. “It’s more than you’ve had me wear out of here before.”
“I’m not complaining, only asking. I’ve been thinking of you.” He crossed to kiss her with the warm, lingering care of an affectionate lover.
“That was very nice,” she said as they slowly pulled apart.
“Wasn’t it,” he agreed. “You smell delicious.”
“With about two hundred dollars’ worth of lotions and oils rubbed into almost every square inch of my skin, I should think so. You’re spoiling me.”
“I’m enjoying watching you learn to enjoy yourself. No, keep the robe, I think,” he said as her gaze went to the blue silk swatch draped over the top of the screen. “It’s better than what I had in mind. But fetch the item in the drawer, please.”
It only took her a second t
o figure out what the red satin was, with its white ruffled edges and long black ties off the wider, lightly padded middle.
“You bastard,” she said as she emerged, laughing because he’d got the better of her and she would have to be a sport. But really, what a jerk.
“You said you’d wear what I asked.” He tugged the blindfold from her loose fingers, placing it over her eyes. The thickest parts of the padding settled into the hollows of her sockets, gently sealing her lids, ensuring no light—or other images—crept behind. “Are you ready?” he asked, backing her up.
“No, yes, I don’t know!” She started giggling, nervous. “You’re not.” She clutched at the slippery silk of the shirt he still wore. Something hit her in the backs of the knees and she threw her arms out as she fell backward on the bed, landing on cool sheets. “This is it? That’s all the foreplay I’m getting? Suddenly I wake up and I’m back in my old marriage.”
He chuckled. “You’re such a smart-ass. It’s not something a man expects out of a woman who looks so innocent.” He swung her legs up onto the bed, adjusting the robe so it covered her completely. “So virginal in her white robe on her white sheets. But look what goes on in her mind. Such scarlet thoughts,” he teased, testing the fit of the blindfold. “And these wanton red fingertips will tiptoe into all those flushed little places, won’t they, darling?” He held both her hands and set soft kisses on her knuckles.
Her nipples, slightly abraded from yesterday’s thorough attentions, began to tingle. Her body flushed with heat, and tension invaded her limbs.
“This isn’t a wall and you’re not naked,” she said, but he must have heard the weakness in her voice and knew he could convince her to do this differently.
“We’re getting there.” He released her, setting her hands on the belt of her robe. “I’ve been thinking about how I’d like this to go, Arianne. Will you start by arousing yourself for me? Let me watch while I undress?”
“But I want to see you,” she said as she let one hand drift upward and slip into the fold of the robe, seeking out one warm breast.
“I’m taking off my shirt. You know what my chest looks like.”
