Hard Drive

by Erin McCarthy

  His mouth quirked up at the corner. “Hard and taut are redundant, and I don’t think your nipple has a mind of its own, but we get the point.”

  He closed the distance between them and before Kindra could even think, his mouth was on her. He was sucking and pulling through her shirt, without warning or preparation.

  “Oh my God!” she said, then closed her mouth in mortification at her words.

  Mortification quickly gave way to pleasure.

  His hands were on her waist and he pushed the tank top up, the hair on his arm tickling her skin. Another second and he had tugged her bra down, and her breasts were spilling out.

  Hard wet tongue flickered across her. Kindra gripped his shoulders and whimpered. He wasn’t being gentle, but was raking across her with his tongue, before pulling her breast back into his mouth.

  Oh, yes.

  Teeth nipped her and she felt an odd mix of pleasure and pain that was new and downright interesting. When he stood up, she rocked back towards him. She didn’t want him to stop, not now when she was hot and aching and desperate for completion.

  Mack’s eyes were dark, the normally ice blue a lustful royal shade. He wiped the moisture from his mouth and said, “He said to suck hard.”

  Likely excuse. She was starting to suspect Mack was getting off on this just as much as she was.

  Which was a lot.

  “Hard and fast,” she repeated, tossing her hair back out of her eyes.

  Mack was damn near to exploding. He wanted Kindra and he wanted her yesterday, but he was having a fucking good time turning her on like this, nice and slow.

  It was obvious no man had ever bothered to take the time to get Kindra good and ready, and Mack was enjoying watching her. She looked shocked, but damn if she didn’t look like she was basking in it.

  Those green eyes were round and stunned, glazed with passion. She kept making little sounds of encouragement and pleasure, then looked embarrassed to realize she had. And she was completely letting him take the lead.

  He was doing, and she was taking.

  Until today, Mack had thought he’d had a lot of great sex in his life, even if his reputation had been exaggerated. He did date a lot, but there hadn’t been that many women he had actually hooked up with. But he had considered those times to be damn great sex.

  He had been wrong. That had been good sex. But nothing had made him this edgy, this eager, this nervous to please, this out of control.

  Sex in the past had ultimately always been about him. Sure, he’d prided himself on pleasing his partner, but he had been in it for him.

  This was a new thing, this pleasure from pleasuring someone else. He wanted to get Kindra off all night and just watch.

  He turned back to the computer screen. She seemed to like this method of acting out her online fantasies.

  “‘Take your bra off for me.’” He smiled at Kindra. “Oh, I like this one.”

  She stood still in front of him, her rich auburn hair sliding across her shoulders. Her hands rubbed across her skirt again.

  “It doesn’t say anything about taking your top off, so leave that on.”

  Hands on the bottom of her tank top, she said, “You can’t watch.”

  Laughing, he closed his eyes. “Fine.” He was going to see it all anyway. He’d already had his mouth on her nipple, but hey, if she wanted to be shy, he didn’t mind.

  Eyes shut, he leaned back against the computer desk and crossed his feet.

  “Have you ever had great sex, Kindra? The kind where it’s so hot you lose your mind and you’re basically willing to do anything and everything?”

  Kindra, busy wrestling with her bra straps, said without thinking, “No.”

  She mentally groaned. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. She didn’t want Mack to think there was something wrong with her, or that she was difficult to please.

  He said, “That’s not your fault, you know. That’s his fault, whoever he was.”

  Tugging her bra down her arm and freeing it from the tank top, Kindra watched Mack leaning there, eyes still closed. Could he see somehow? He looked like he was smirking.

  “Maybe it was my fault. Maybe I’m hard to please.” She didn’t know why she said that, her private fear, but once out there, she couldn’t take it back.

  Mack’s mouth curved up. “I don’t think so. You seem to be enjoying yourself so far. Are you? Enjoying yourself?”

  “Yes.” It was so much easier to be honest when he wasn’t staring at her. And she was enjoying herself. More than she had thought possible.

  “Good.”

  His eyes popped open. “Have you ever had an orgasm during sex?”

  With a man in the room? She froze, her bra dangling in her hands, the urge to laugh overcoming her. Let’s see, she could count the times on one hand… no, make that one finger.

  Once. And she was convinced it was a pure accident, since it had yet to be repeated.

  “What do you mean?” she hedged, twisting her bra between her hands. “Of course I have.”

  He laughed. He straightened up. Shoot. He was coming towards her. She took a step back.

  “It’s a simple question. Have you ever had an orgasm?”

  “Yes.” That was the truth.

  “During sex? Were you on top, the bottom, from behind maybe? Up the ass?”

  Her face started to burn. Up the ass? He could not be serious. “None of the above.”

  He stopped right in front of her, and his fingers wrapped around the bra and yanked it away from her. He dropped it on the floor.

  “With his finger then? His tongue?”

  There was no way she could answer that. Not with him standing so close her breasts were rubbing across the softness of his shirt. Not when his erection pressed lightly against her mound, then pulled back.

  Forward, back, forward, a soft light rhythm that echoed the primal urges she felt.

  She couldn’t admit out loud that she seemed incapable of an orgasm. He might give up and go home. So she whispered, “I don’t think that’s in the emails, is it?”

  His eyes darkened. “Oh, good point. So let’s see what’s next, shall we?”

  When he turned, she breathed a sigh of relief. She couldn’t think when he was that close to her. Her body was heavy and feverish and she was starting to feel the pangs of desperation.

  Mack looked like he could play like this all night. For twelve hours.

  She didn’t think she could take much more. Mack was going so damn slow, and he was teasing her with more foreplay than she’d had in a year-long relationship with her ex-boyfriend.

  It was now a fact in her mind that she had been robbed. To have made it to the age of twenty-six and never had felt this kind of pleasure before was a crying shame. Mack had barely even touched her. She had a mind to call up the three different men she had slept with and tell them they’d been doing it wrong.

  Very wrong.

  Maybe Mack could give them some tips. He certainly knew what he was doing.

  And if the number of smiling women he had dated in the past were any indication, she wasn’t the only one who thought so.

  Jealousy surged up, catching her off guard. She didn’t like the thought of Mack looking at another woman the way he did her. But he wasn’t hers.

  He was only hers for twelve hours. She had to remember that.

  So she should do her best to enjoy him for the time she had, then worry about the aftermath later.

  Mack’s profile was towards her, and she watched his lips move as he read silently. Admiring his strong nose and straight jaw, she was distracted by the urge to bury her hands in that short black hair and tug.

  “You know what?” he said, glancing over at her. “We’ve been doing this wrong, I think.”

  It was working for her. “Why?”

  “Because this isn’t how you would be doing this normally, is it? I mean, when you’re here by yourself, reading these emails.”

  She stared at him, not su
re what he meant. “I don’t know…”

  A finger came out and landed on her mouth. “Shh. I’ll show you what I mean.”

  The scent of his skin, a salty sweet smell with remnants of spices, rose to her nostrils.

  Guided by instinct, she slipped her tongue out between her lips and licked his finger.

  It was a toss-up who was more surprised.

  “Shit,” he exclaimed, his eyes half closed.

  Her sentiments exactly.

  He slid his finger in between her lips.

  Kindra wrapped herself around it and sucked, gently. Mack hovered over her. She could feel his control quivering, wavering, as he struggled to hold himself still.

  She sucked harder, pulling his finger down deep, gliding her tongue up and down. It occurred to her exactly what she was mimicking and the thought had her aching for him inside her. Either in her mouth or her pussy. She wasn’t picky.

  When he yanked his finger back, she cried out in disappointment.

  “Naughty, naughty,” he taunted. “I can see I’m going to have to keep a closer eye on you.”

  She wished he would. An eye, and a hand, and a tongue…

  Her aggressive move had startled her. She wasn’t used to taking the lead with men.

  But she also knew it wasn’t in her nature to be so obedient. It was something she had trained herself to do, until she had lost sight of herself in her demure persona.

  Mack made her feel bold.

  “Sorry,” she lied with a grin.

  “No, you’re not.”

  Shaking her head, she admitted, “No.”

  He brushed her mouth with a hot kiss. “Good. You’re free to do whatever you want here. Sex with me is never having to say you’re sorry.”

  It sounded funny and she let out a soft laugh.

  With a grin, he said, “Are you laughing at me?”

  “Not at you. With you,” she corrected, remembering the reprimands she used to receive from her mother.

  He snorted. “I wasn’t laughing.” He squeezed her hand. “But don’t worry, you won’t be laughing in a minute. Not when you’re having the greatest sex you’ve ever had.”

  She was ready. Bring it on. “I promise not to laugh.” She let her eyes drop down to his erection.

  He got the implied joke. “Hey, now. Watch it.”

  She found herself pressed up hard against him, his mouth on her neck, his impressive man parts bumping her in the perfect spot.

  He was chuckling. “You’re going to regret that, Kindra Hill. No more Mr. Nice Guy.”

  She didn’t want nice. She wanted hard. She wanted down and dirty.

  “Sorry.” Then she said in a soft meek voice, that was anything but, “I’ll be good.”

  Mack made a strangled sound as he moved back a step, shaking his head. “I can’t wait to see how good you’re going to be.”

  Neither could she.

  Damn, damn, damn. Did she know what she had just done to him? He had almost lost it right then and there without her even laying a finger on him.

  Hell, he knew there was more to her than the uptight woman she was at work. Hadn’t he seen that flash in her eyes? It was there now, as her eyes defied her words.

  Kindra was dynamite, just waiting to explode.

  Her mouth said she would be good, but her eyes said she wanted to be bad, very bad.

  Perfect.

  He pulled her forward. “I was talking about the emails, remember? I want you to show me how you read them.”

  Confusion crossed her face.

  “Do you sit in the chair? Do you stand up?” It had given him a sleepless night last night imagining her reading those emails, getting all hot and bothered, with no one to satisfy her. “On your phone in bed?”

  Fuck. Now he was hot and bothered. Again. Maybe he had never stopped being turned on since the minute he’d walked into her office the day before.

  “I sit in the chair.”

  “Have a seat then.” He gestured to the chair, pulled out in front of the computer.

  “What do you wear? Pajamas? Sexy clothes? Or are you naked?” That was an image that wouldn’t leave now that he’d pictured it. Kindra, naked, legs crossed, head thrown back, hand on the mouse.

  She gasped. “Not naked. Just regular clothes.”

  “Show me,” he urged.

  She sat down in the chair. It swiveled a little. She looked at him in question.

  “And then you just read?”

  Kindra nodded wordlessly.

  “So read to me. Out loud.” He had chosen the message he wanted. It was up on the screen.

  There was a pause, then she turned towards the screen. Mack saw her jaw work as she swallowed hard. Then she spoke in a tremulous voice.

  “‘Kindra, I want my hands all over you.’” Her cheeks stained a pretty pink color.

  He dropped his hands to her shoulders and spread his fingers out.

  She jerked forward.

  “Shh. Keep reading.”

  Her body was rigid, straight in the chair, but after a deep breath, she read, “‘I want to run my fingers down over your nipples and fill my hands with your hot tits.’”

  She whispered the last word, succumbing to shyness at the last second.

  “What? I didn’t catch the last thing you said.”

  Right. He had heard her, she was sure of it. He was playing with her again. And she liked it. A lot.

  She said, marginally louder, “Tits.”

  Kindra knew her face was burning. She couldn’t believe she was doing this, but at the same time she was excited, pulsing with need and feeling brassy and bold. Mack’s hands were trailing down her chest, brushing past her nipples to cup her, squeezing gently. He pulled her tank top up past her breasts.

  Her eyes drifted close.

  “What else?”

  She refocused on the screen. “‘Then I’ll rub your nipples, pinch them until you beg for me to suck them…’” she trailed off with a gasp.

  Mack was already rubbing and pinching, his hands moving slowly and lazily as if he had nothing better to do but stand there over her and tease her, working her like a radio dial. She panted. She groaned.

  Her head fell back. He moved and moved until she couldn’t stand it. Twisting in the chair, arching to make him take more, she cried out.

  His hands didn’t move away or take more, they just kept brushing and squeezing until she was gripping the seat of the chair in agony.

  “Mack, please!”

  “Please what?”

  “Suck them. Please.” Shyness came a distant second to greedy passion.

  “Since you asked so nicely.” His head came over her shoulder, and he pushed her shirt out of the way.

  He pulled her into his mouth, and she groaned. Yes, that’s what she wanted, and she threw her arm back to allow him better access. Desire shot through her, and she pushed her sandals against the carpet.

  The wheels moved the chair a little and sent him off balance.

  “Now don’t go anywhere,” he said as he stood back up.

  Kindra reached her arms up, intent on pulling him back, but he moved out of her reach.

  “What’s next?”

  “What?” She realized he meant the email of course, but needed to hear him say it. Wanted him to guide her.

  “You know what I mean. Read, Kindra.”

  So she did, her inhibitions melting like marshmallows over a campfire. If reading got him to touch her, that’s what she would do, because she really, really wanted him to keep touching her. “‘If you’re wearing a skirt, my hand will move down past your stomach, cupping you.’”

  Her breath hitched. Mack’s hand covered her.

  “So hot. You’re burning right through the fabric.”

  She could burn through steel right now. “‘Then if you’re wearing panties you’ll stand up and I’ll take them off.’”

  Resigned, eager, she got to her feet without him telling her to. She panted as Mack got down on his knees. Hand
s went up her skirt, slid under her panties around to her ass, and massaged her naked skin. Mack dropped hot hard kisses on the front of her skirt.

  Then he pulled her panties down, fast, and a shiver passed through her.

  “Step out, then sit back down.” His voice was ragged, gruff.

  She stood there a moment, catching her breath, aware that her top was still bunched up above her breasts. Mack was still fully dressed, but she didn’t feel uncomfortable.

  This was more arousing than she could have ever imagined. She felt dizzy, heady with the sensations rushing through her body.

  She sat back down, pressing her knees together and leaning back against the chair. Mack went behind her again, and she could smell the sharp sheen of sweat on him.

  “Read.”

  She found her place in the message.

  “‘I’ll pull your skirt up, yank your legs apart, then stick my finger inside of you.’” Ohmigod. Mack was dragging her skirt up, spreading her, then in he went, sliding inside her without any hesitation.

  She jerked on the chair. “Mack,” she murmured on a heavy groan.

  “What now?”

  She couldn’t speak, she couldn’t read anymore. Her knees fell further apart. She wiggled, trying to entice him to action. His finger was just resting inside her.

  “I can’t do it anymore,” she gasped.

  He still wasn’t moving. His voice in her ear was low and coaxing. “You do it when you’re here alone, don’t you? I bet you do the reading and the touching. Don’t you?”

  “Mack,” she begged, tilting her head back.

  His finger moved so slowly she thought she would scream with frustration. She tried to move herself down further on him, but he held her still.

  “Answer the question, Kindra. Do you touch yourself?”

  She saw what he was doing now. He wasn’t going to move until she told him. Desperate, she told him the truth. Anything to have him slide into her.

  “Yes,” she moaned. “I touch myself.”

  Mack told himself to stay in control. Don’t just lift her thigh and start pumping in to her, no matter how tempting. He was bent over Kindra, his head tantalizingly close to her tits and she was spread for him. His finger was inside her where she was tight and warm.