by Dani Collins
“I do,” she said with satisfaction, picturing Jason’s chest—which had been clearly on display yesterday. She flicked her nipple as she recollected the way the dark hair followed the contours of his muscles, thickening in the shallow valley between his male breasts, brushed downward on his flat, ribbed belly.
“Have you told me everything about how you want this to happen?” he asked.
“I want you to use an American accent,” she said. Jason. She wanted Jason.
“No problem, little lady,” he said in an exaggerated Southern drawl.
“Californian American,” she said.
“Buena, señorita,” he murmured.
“No,” she scolded. “But save that. It has potential. Now talk properly.”
“Why, Arianne?” he asked in Jason’s voice.
“Because it’s my fantasy and this is what I want. Rub your nipples,” she told him.
“I am,” he said and she heard the brush of his palms across his chest.
She pinched and pulled at her own nipple and let her other hand creep beneath the slit of her robe to lightly touch between her legs, just tracing the seam of her cleft behind the weight of the robe, letting the moisture gather in her closed folds.
“Kick off your boots,” she said, and heard them hit the floor. “Are your feet bare?”
Silence, then, “They are now.”
“Open your pants but don’t take them off,” she said. He’d been wearing the buff-colored breeches that peeled open. “Expose yourself.”
“My cock?”
“Your thick, turgid, pussy-pleasing cock,” she said, making him chuckle. “Are you hard?”
“I am now.”
She laughed, then asked, “Are you stroking yourself?” She could hear the whisper of touch.
“Yes. Open your robe. I want to see what you’re doing.”
She removed her hands to unknot the belt, unwrapping herself like a present, crooking one knee so her lips pulled open a little. She heard him draw a long breath.
“Take off your mask,” she ordered, picturing the reach of his hands, the moment it would take to release the knot, the peeling away of the kerchief so he turned from Dominic to Jason. “You should have shaved,” she told him.
“You want me that naked?”
“Mmm, maybe.”
“Another time,” he promised. “Now touch yourself again. Are you ready? I want you to pretend you’re alone. I’m not here. No one is. But just when you approach your peak, there’s going to be a knock at the door. Get up and walk along the wall to answer it. Can you do that without looking?”
She bit her lip. That was darned close to the way things had happened when Jason had suggested nailing her to the wall. Her low-level arousal sparked into a leaping flame. “Yes,” she answered.
“Good.”
She heard him shuck his pants, the dull thud as they hit the floor, then his footsteps as he walked across the room. The door opened and closed.
“Dom…?” She reached for the blindfold, remembered her promise at the last second and waited with her fingers on the frilled edge, straining to hear whether he was still in the room. If he was, he ought to be protesting her near cheat. If he wasn’t, he was standing buck naked in the hotel hallway. “You’re still here. I know you are.”
Nothing.
“Hmmph.” She ran her hands down her body, arching her breasts into her palms, pushing her two hands between her legs and grinding up. Waking her nerve endings. Trying to draw him into revealing himself with a gasp or groan.
She imagined him lightly toying with himself, silently skimming his hand along the length of his beautiful cock, making it jump and leap as he grazed the tip. He would pinch the head the way she’d seen him do, and reach long fingertips behind his balls to stimulate the back of his tight scrotum.
Her pussy grew wetter as she mentally watched him, his muscles flexing in the candlelight, her finger sliding easily, her movements lush and unhurried. With provocative glee she lifted her wet finger and tongued it as if she was licking his cock, tasting herself and daring him to stay silent. Pushing her breasts together, she thumbed her nipples then dove her hands into the sultry moss between her thighs, spreading herself and yearning to work one long fingernail into her passage but wanting to wait for him.
Combing her fingers into the kindled heat, she prepared herself for penetration, doing what he’d done yesterday, avoiding the intense feelings for the build of a deeper pleasure. God, when he’d coaxed her to such a state yester—
A knock at the door startled her into gasping. She’d become so engrossed she’d begun to believe she was alone. Not sure what to believe, she folded the robe over herself and held it in place as she sat up.
“Who is it?” she called.
No answer.
She groped along the wall toward the door.
Her waving hand met only air, found the shape of the frame and traced it to the handle. “Dom?” She turned the knob, starting to open it.
It pushed against her, forcing her back a step, then slammed closed. Male hands found the edges of her robe and tugged it open, nudging her arms out of the way.
“And what have you been doing, gorgeous?” Jason asked.
Her back came up against the wall. “W-waiting.” The word came out as pure truth.
“Me, too,” he muttered, and covered her mouth in a kiss he deepened with a thrust of his tongue. His naked heat flattened her to the wall and his knee pushed between hers. “Let me in, Arianne,” he said. The thick head she’d memorized with her tongue slid into the notch of her sopping cleft. “Want that?” he asked between hot, hard kisses. “How much?”
He pressed enough that her lips stretched around the tip, then backed off, rubbing and rubbing the head, jabbing lightly.
“More?” he asked.
“Yes. All the way. I want you in me.”
With a tiny popping sensation, he pushed the head past the resistance of her entrance, stretching her with the thick girth of him. The pinch was exquisite and sharp. His fingers bit into her buttocks, holding her as her knees buckled. She cried out, frustrated that he wasn’t driving in hard, deep and easy.
“In, you bastard,” she sobbed. “All the way.”
He rocked, muttering, “Fuck, you’re tight.”
The catch and pull made her clench her teeth. She curled her arms around his neck and pulled herself up, letting her weight do the work. She sighed as thick heat pierced her to the core.
With a tortured sound, he shifted his grip, opening her one leg to hook his arm behind her knee, then taking her full weight as he grappled up the other. She felt herself pressed open, her sex taut and stretched around the hard shape of him. Her lower back met the wall as he filled her to the absolute depth either could manage.
She fisted her hands in his hair and moaned.
“Like that?” He withdrew and thrust, merciless, the aggressive head of his cock plunging and retreating, gliding into the place his fingertips and tongue had explored and left burning with knowledge for days, claiming the territory with deep possession.
“Yes.” She rode the pike of his prick, lifting with her arms so she could sink back and feel the slam of his pubic bone hit her clit. His swaying balls slapped her anus. She used the solid wall behind her to push into him, accepting every hard, battering stroke, longing to reach between them and flick her clit enough to make herself come, yet knowing the hard, mind-blowing one was building. “Please. Like that. Harder. Harder.”
His shoulders grew slippery as she scraped and clawed at him. She gripped his wet hair and flexed her legs on his iron-hard arms, working her pussy on the muscle that swelled and grew and filled her all the more. The friction burned her insides, and exertion brought fiery sensitivity to her skin. With animal grunts and the clap of flesh, he rammed deeper, arched higher, gave her every last fraction of an inch, flirting with the most devilish zone of all. Each touch of his heated tip pulled her closer to the precipice, each muttered “tak
e my cock” drew her higher.
Capturing her mouth, he smothered her cries and pinned her to the wall, thrusting and thrusting, turning them into short tight hard pushes that rocked his abrasive pubes against her distended clit and fluttered across that place.
Pulling away so she could breathe, she arched her neck and screamed, “Oh. My. Fucking. God.” And bore down to release the streaming flood.
He racked and shuddered, plundering ruthlessly as his own growl grew to a shout and exploded as a bellow of release. His cock, buried deep in her cunt, gave great pulsing throbs against her contracting walls and bathed her in hot semen.
His hips continued the convulsive thrusts, determined to stay deep, drawing out her pleasure, and his own, while he staggered and released one of her legs. He buckled to his knees, both of them braced against the wall as they slid, falling sideways, clinging and tangled.
They landed in a heap, sweating and panting, grasping at each other, finding lips and sealing the union in long, hot kisses, his dick still twitching in her pulsating pussy.
Chapter Eight
“That was interesting,” Arianne heard Dominic say after a long while. He still held her in loose arms but eased back, withdrawing from where sex fluids adhered their hips. “Uh-uh,” he added, catching her hands, keeping her in the dark. “That stays on.”
Arianne pouted. “No.”
“Am I getting dressed? Are we finished for the day?”
She shifted, trying to gauge what kind of feeling she had left in the puddle of flesh she called a pussy. “No,” she said, deciding a nerve or two was still in working order.
“Good.” He stood and dragged her to her feet, then swung her into a cradle hold against his chest and staggered to the bed.
“Why don’t you want me to see you?” she asked, catching her breath as he collapsed beside her and neatly slid his thigh into the streaming notch between hers.
“Tell me, my dear,” he murmured, licking at one nipple then pressing low on her back, urging her to rock her hips and slide her pussy against his hard, hairy thigh. “Are you ready to take this wanton side of your nature into the real world?”
“I don’t know,” she complained, her concentration divided as the slippery friction of his rough thigh began to spark a resurgence of sexual heat. “This feels really good,” she murmured.
“I thought you’d like it. Here, try it this way.” He rolled onto his back, his knee crooked up so that she could lift onto all fours, bracing her hands beside his rib cage and contentedly hump herself into the land between exquisite stimulation and preclimax. “Do you think you could you let yourself go this way, Arianne, if you were with a man you knew?”
Jason, he meant.
She knotted her fists in the slippery sheet beneath him, trying to imagine removing the blindfold and facing Jason, staring into a face that knew her every secret, flaw, failing and insecurity. The reality, the true reality of what she was doing, what she had planned to do, washed over her and she stopped moving.
As she panted, the mingled scent of their pooled juice surrounded her.
“I didn’t think so,” he murmured, clasping her hips and urging her to continue. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever filled a woman’s pussy with come like this. I didn’t realize the delights it affords. Does this feel as good to you as it does to me?”
“No, listen. I mean, yes, it feels really good.” She took control of the movement, swaying and arching to paint long, wet strokes on his flexed muscle. “And I do want to be like this with a man I know. When I go on my cruise—”
His fingers bit into her hips, stilling her, but her arousal was climbing to the point where the sensations continued to ebb and flow inside her because he held her motionless.
“Who is this man you’re taking, Arianne? I’ve been meaning to ask.” He was back to using his accent and it became very crisp.
Arianne stupidly wished she could see his face, even though he was right. She wasn’t ready. She wished she could call him by name and end this, tell him what was in her heart, but the mystique of blindfolds and disguises were all that had allowed her to abandon inhibition thus far.
“Why do you want to know?” She tried to move but he held her too tightly in his iron grip, keeping her motionless on the leg he pressed hard between her thighs, causing pulses of anticipation.
“Just tell me,” he ordered.
“He’s a man who will give me this—” She let her weight settle on him, the pressure causing tingles to race upward into her shoulders and the back of her neck, tickling beneath her skin the way her own hair slithered and caressed the surface as she shook it down her spine. “He’ll laugh with me over dinner and race me in the pool and make up stories about strangers in the bar. He’ll reveal himself completely.”
“Unlike me.”
With a groan, she melted down on him, sprawling and stroking the resistant strength in him. “The man I had in mind…” Trepidation made her stumble. She had intended to ask Jason when the time was right, but contemplating that conversation made her turn her face into Dominic’s chest now, hiding from herself and reality.
The salt of his light sweat coated her lips and she licked it off, then licked him, whirling a path through his chest hair to his nipple—something she couldn’t have done without the safety of hiding behind her blindfold. Damn him for being right, but she wasn’t ready to remove the barriers.
The cruise, however, was her deadline, so she lifted her head and said, “I’ve changed my mind about the other man. Come with me, Dominic. Meet me on the cruise and we’ll both be completely naked.”
There. Now she would have the man she wanted, everything she wanted, for those two blissful weeks.
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not? Listen—” She came up on her forearms against his chest, facing him even though she couldn’t see him.
“No, you listen, Arianne.” He pushed her hips back into motion, scraping her sensitized lips down his thigh in a move of unexpected power. “I am a conduit to you finding yourself sexually.” He drew her back, yanking her into the whirlpool of deep arousal with the sudden, urgent stimulation. “That’s all.”
“No,” she protested while he honed her on the knife’s edge of a swift ascent toward orgasm. Digging her fingernails into his chest, she said, “I want mo—oh, oh. Ohhhhh!”
As she toppled onto him, pulsing and quivery, she felt his hand in her hair, his breath against her forehead.
“That’s all there is,” he murmured.
* * *
He left her and she heard water running in the bathroom. A few minutes later, he came back to press a hot cloth against the friction-burned lips of her pussy.
“Are we done?” she asked, hearing the hint of forlorn panic in her voice.
“Not fucking likely,” he said with a dry chuckle. “No, my dear, we have a lot of work ahead of us if we’re going to explore every one of your naughty little fantasies in only two more days.” Gently parting her, he stroked each crease, tenderly swiping with the cloth. When he was done, he left her legs open and petted her wet curls in soft, idle strokes. “Now tell me what they are.”
“What, my fantasies? I don’t have any.”
“None,” he said with patent disbelief. His hand moved to rest on her inner thigh. “I don’t believe you. You must have had at least a few wicked scenarios play out in your mind the last few days. Tell me,” he ordered.
She shook her head. “I just want this. You. Can’t we just, you know.” She lifted her hips. “Do it?”
“Do what?” he asked, his fingers still unmoving on her inner thigh.
“Fuck,” she said clearly. “Can’t you just put that hard, hot cock inside my aching pussy?”
He chuckled. “I do love watching that pretty mouth of yours talk dirty, my dear. All right, I have an idea. Come here.”
The bed at her side dipped as he sat on the edge. As she sat up, he guided her around to straddle his lap.
�
�Is this what your throbbing little cunt wants?” he asked, rubbing the knob of his cock along her cleft to open her, greasing himself and poking at her entrance.
“Yes,” she said on a sigh as he let her settle her weight down, taking him into the narrow pocket, filling her with the thick stud of his cock. “Oh, that feels good,” she murmured as he guided her legs around him so she sat tight in his lap.
Thoroughly lubricated by their mutual juice, there was little friction, just the thick, hard presence of him holding open the walls of her vagina, quietly nudging a little deeper as they adjusted their position for maximum comfort.
Curling her arms around his neck, she let her head loll against his shoulder and concentrated on the way her nipples brushed his chest with each breath.
“This is very nice,” she told him, rubbing her lips up his neck and jaw until she found his mouth.
They shared a few soft kisses, but he didn’t let them become too deep. “It is nice,” he agreed lightly.
“But how are we going to…?” She tried rocking and found the position awkward with her legs wrapped around him. She needed her knees under her, but he held her where she was, able to manipulate only the pressure of him inside her, and even that was subtle.
“We’re not going to fuck right now. We’re going to play a game.”
“What game?” A nervous shiver chased over her.
“A game you played as a child. Truth or dare,” he said. “See, when I hold you like this, you can’t move anything but your pussy muscles. I can feel you hot and tight and trying to bite my cock off because the way I’m talking excites you. Doesn’t it?”
“No,” she lied and clenched around him.
He made a tsk-tsk sound and brushed her hair back from her shoulders. “You can’t lie to me when we’re like this, Arianne. Now I’m going to ask you some questions and learn what turns you on.”
“You do.” She pushed her nose into his neck where his scent gathered. “Fucking you turns me on.”
Inside her, his cock twitched. She smiled.
“Provoking me turns you on,” he said, lightly pinching her bottom. “What if I spanked you for such misbehavior?” He pinched a little harder.
