by Koko Brown
He swiped his tongue across her lips. The abrasive texture made Yvonne’s entire body tingle. Needing more contact, she curled her fingers in his hair.
What did this guy use? His inky black curls slipped through her fingers like silk.
As his kiss became more insistent, his mouth coaxed hers open to his plundering tongue. Once inside he touched off pressure points connected to her nipples, heart rate and even her sex.
He stroked the roof of her mouth and her nipples puckered. He drew semi-circles against her bottom lip and her pussy throbbed.
Man, oh man, this guy was a pro! She’d kissed plenty of frogs in her life, but none of them made her want to strip them naked, climb all over them and have her way with him.
Ready to give up her amateur status, Yvonne reached between them and grasped the drawstring to his pants. Her body trembling, she tugged on the neat knot and the string unraveled slowly.
In a matter of minutes, he could be inside her. She couldn’t wait. She had several weeks of sexual frustration built up from fighting off Paolo Saito’s advances.
Hopefully another man would temper her desire for him. But as the fastening around his waist became slack, he startled her by pulling back as if regretting what they were doing
Yvonne reached out to him, but he moved away.
“Wait! Where are you going?”
Her words didn’t forestall him; instead he crossed the room and yanked a book from a bookshelf above his head. Yvonne placed her hands on her hips and tapped her foot.
He was so not going to read a book right now!
Shocked, Yvonne’s arms dropped to her sides as the shelf swung outward, spilling light across the wood floors. Her wolf hesitated on the threshold, but then slipped through the narrow gap in the wall and disappeared. Shortly afterward, the shelf closed behind him.
Instead of feeling dejected she found she only wanted him more. So much so a silly idea formed in her head. Horny and confused, Yvonne started to pace.
“What you’re thinking about doing is totally insane. You don’t know this guy from a hill of beans. Not once in your adult life have you ever indulged in sex with a stranger.”
Of course all the guys she’d dated weren’t half as fine as her wolf. And she so wanted to get down and dirty, she could practically taste his skin on her tongue.
That damn, Paolo Saito! His constant advances had opened a Pandora’s Box filled with lustful thoughts and perverted desires. And now her every waking moment seemed to be filled with thoughts about Paolo Saito and sex or sex with Paolo Saito. This very morning she’d masturbated in the shower. She was so long overdue!
Shelving her reservations, Yvonne marched across the room and in short order pulled several books from the shelf. The wall didn’t budge. Seeing her opportunity slipping away with her resolve, Yvonne frantically pulled all the books off the shelf, creating a tiny heap at her feet.
Undeterred, she reached up on her tip-toes and started working on the shelf above her head. One by the one books plummeted to the floor, except for a burgundy leather bound book that tilted outward in an odd angle. Shifting her weight to her heels, Yvonne pulled on the book.
Bingo! The book creaked, reverberated slightly and then she heard a click followed by artificial light spilling into the room.
Yvonne poked her head around the bookcase and discovered a stone staircase illuminated by floodlights. Without a backward glance at the room behind her she climbed the stairs as fast as her stiletto heels would allow.
She climbed stair after stair with no end in sight nor hide or hair of her wolf. Exhausted, Yvonne leaned against the wall. The next time Robbie asked her to go to the gym she needed to sleep in the trunk. She could barely breathe!
Putting on her game face, Yvonne pushed away from the wall and continued to climb. Just when she was tempted to turn back around, she came to a door standing ajar.
Drawn by the pop and crackle of a fire, Yvonne peered inside. A leather couch sat in front of a fireplace and an ornate mirror hung on the far wall near the bedroom door.
Silently praying she hadn’t intruded on a couple getting freaky, she craned her head around the door frame to better see the other half of the room.
As all of her focus centered on the room’s sole occupant, the painful throb in her instep dissipated and her heart quickened. Her wolf, mask still in place, sat at the foot of a four post antique bed.
Filled with want, Yvonne opened and closed her hands. Images of her gripping his rock hard ass while he fucked her, danced in her head. And with each passing second the images grew more explicit and so frighteningly real, moisture soaked the crotch of her hot pants.
There was no way she could go to bed alone. She’d just end up playing with herself until sunrise. Yvonne squared her shoulders and pushed the door inward.
Her eyes still on the bed, she watched him. Despite the shadows cast by the partially askew counterpane, she noticed the way his eyes tracked her every movement.
Coming to stand in the center of the room, Yvonne cleared her throat. “I know this may sound forward and absolutely crazy, but I don’t want to go to bed alone, not tonight.”
There she had gotten it all out in the open. There would be no mixed signals, no miscommunication between them.
The only indication he gave that he heard her was a slight cock of his head. Other than that, her speech had been met by silence. Well, not total silence. The clock ticked loudly on the mantel behind her.
Losing her bravado, Yvonne crossed one foot over the other ready to turn tail, but then she remembered he’d responded to her in Italian downstairs. Well there was one language all humans could understand―body language. Yvonne slowly turned around and faced the fireplace.
Like a shock to her system, the heat licked over her, heightening her senses and making her more aware of all the clothes she had on.
More than ready to rectify the situation, she reached behind her and unhooked the crinoline skirt to her costume. As it fell at her feet, she heard the bed creak behind her. Pausing at the satin ribbons fronting her dress, she chanced a glance over her shoulder. Totally into what she was doing he was leaning forward, his elbows resting on his outstretched legs.
Yvonne smiled. So he wanted a show? Well, she’d give it to him nice and slow if that meant being able to share his bed tonight. Empowered, Yvonne took her time unlacing the ribbons fastening her corset.
CHAPTER TEN
Knowing her butt cheeks spilled from the bottom of her hot pants, Yvonne made sure she enunciated her movements so her bottom jiggled. From behind her, she heard the bed move again. Yvonne smiled to herself. Round yet firm, her backside was one of her best assets.
Her corset finally came undone, so she bent over slightly and proceeded to shimmy the garment down her torso, over her ample hips and thighs until it rested beside the discarded skirt.
Yvonne hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her hot pants. She would be too glad to chuck these! The crotch was so wet, they’d started to chafe. As she slowly inched the scrap of material over her hips, she bent over again, so he could get a good look at her exposed pussy as she stepped out of them.
With no other garments left to discard except for the white thigh boots and her mask, Yvonne turned back around.
She’d considered wrapping her arms across her upper torso out of modesty, but that flew out the window the minute she propositioned him for sex. Instead, Yvonne lifted her chin, rested her arms at her sides and returned his gaze.
At that moment she almost wished he’d removed his mask. With it she couldn’t read his expression. But of course without it that might have made her strip tease unlikely for the shared anonymity gave her courage.
Unsure of how to proceed, but turned on beyond measure, Yvonne approached the foot of the bed and rested her thigh against the edge for balance. She started unzipping her boot but only got as far as mid-calf when a strong arm grabbed her around the waist and hauled her onto the bed.
Before
she could react, he reached over her and pulled the counter pane closed, enveloping them in complete darkness. Returning to her side, he pressed his body against hers. Yvonne responded with a heartfelt groan. His body so rocked!
Still maintaining his silence, her wolf trailed his hands and mouth down her forearm. He seemed to know exactly where to place his sensual artillery in order to get a rise out of her.
Wherever he touched felt like an open flame against her skin. Like when he drew lazy circles on the outside of her thigh with his tongue, her body temperature skyrocketed. His hand grazed the sensitive area above her knee, her clit jumped.
“Do you want me to take my boots off?” Yvonne rolled her eyes. Why would she ask such a stupid question at a time like this?
“No,” he whispered.
Yvonne stiffened. So he did speak English. Why the sly wolf! He could have squashed all of her reservations with a simple yes or no. But oh no, he had to manipulate the entire situation and force her hand. So that out of pure sexual frustration she’d become the seductress.
And you loved every minute of it, her conscience jeered.
He brought her back to the task at hand by sliding up her body and settling between her thighs. Allowing bygones to be bygones, Yvonne opened her mouth to his searching lips.
Like his kiss, he commanded her body. One hand slipped around her neck, the other slid around her body gripped her butt and pulled her into him. His mouth devoured hers like he couldn’t wait to be inside of her. That made two of them!
Yvonne needed him to be like this—wild and out of control. If he took his time, her common sense would’ve kicked in. She’d tell him to stop or she’d start thinking about a certain Brazilian footballer she couldn’t get her mind off of late.
Wanting neither outcome, Yvonne returned his kiss, her tongue sparring with his for dominance. The intensity between them grew and she strained against him. Desperate for more. Desperate for him.
As if he read her mind, his hand slid from her neck to settle on her breast. Yvonne gasped and arched into his hand. Her unknown lover massaged and molded her flesh. Strong fingers played with her nipple until it peaked and grew ripe. That’s when he stopped kissing her. Following the same path as his hand, he kissed a wet trail from her collar bone to nipple.
Not wanting him to stop, Yvonne fisted her hands in his hair and held on tight. “Please, don’t stop,” she moaned. “Please don’t stop.”
Her wolf answered with a deep throated growl against her breast that reverberated through her entire body, setting her on fire.
As if he had all the time in the world, he sucked and licked one nipple then the other. His caresses grew more demanding and she became more restless.
Yvonne wondered just how much more she could take. His mouth was nothing more than a teaser! Ready for something, anything, she twined her legs around his, then she surged up, bucking her hips into him as though she was starving for him. She was all but pleading for him to make love to her!
Yvonne moaned in gratitude when he matched her aggression and pressed her into the bed. His tongue tangled with hers while his hand reached between her legs and parted the moist curls covering her sex.
His searching fingers found her clit and he twirled the tight knot of flesh and nerves in slow mind-bending circles. With each revolution, Yvonne’s hips shot upward. Her juices started running down one of her thighs and his fingers slipped against her flesh.
“Belissima,” he praised, pressing his thumb against her clit and two fingers inside her. Her inner muscles spasmed and clamped around his fingers.
“I’m ready!” Yvonne sobbed. She so needed him inside her right now! She could barely keep still. She moved like a wild woman underneath him—bucking her hips, rubbing her legs up and down his muscular thighs and clutching at his hair.
Her response seemed to get him off. He kept on pumping his fingers and strumming her clit with his thumb, heightening the experience with whispered words of encouragement and flattery.
Onward and upward he pushed, his fingers pushing her hard while she moaned and panted with each thrust. A fluttery sensation tickled the pit of her belly and her ears started to ring.
Instinctively, Yvonne knew what was coming nexther. “I’m not going to be able to hold on,” she gritted out, endeavoring not to scream her head off. “It’s just too much.”
She barely had the words out before her body started to bow and she locked down around his fingers.
“Yes…yes,” he murmured, attempting to redeploy his hand. His fingers barely moved an inch, yet produced the most delicious, mind-blowing friction her limbs started to shake. She could feel the blood rushing in her ears and the distant echo of her heartbeat.
As if her life depended upon him, Yvonne wrapped her arms around his sweaty shoulders and dug her heels into the base of his spine.
Hurricane preparedness could put you in the right frame of mind, but no amount of plans or preparation could ever diminish the impact. And on the Saffir-Simpson scale, her orgasm slammed into her with the force of a category five!
Paolo waited for Yvonne’s cries to diminish before he disentangled her limbs from around him. Lifting his weight onto his palms, he pushed back onto his haunches. The temporary loss of her body heat left him bereft and wanting more.
Paolo winced. He should be filled with guilt not lust. He could no more stem the direction of his thoughts than he could keep from kissing her earlier. The woman had become his drug, haunting his every waking moment and a good portion of his dreams until he’d do anything, including concealing his identity to possess her.
While she continued to writhe in the aftershocks of her release, Paolo lifted his hand and stuck the two fingers he’d used to bring about her release in his mouth. The taste of her wiped his conscience clean. How could he feel guilty when the consequences of his actions tasted so damn sweet?
Despite his better judgment—as if he had any left—Paolo reached for her, his hand bumping up against one of her supple thighs. Sleek and soft to the touch, her skin softly scented with vanilla fascinated him.
And more than once, he’d entertained the idea of keeping her in this bed until he could prove, without a shadow of a doubt, that every single inch of her was equivalent to the whole.
Liking the idea, Paolo wedged himself back between her legs. He palmed the sides of her hips and his cock jumped. Their rounded fullness was made for having babies and sex…hard, pounding, sticky sex.
Once again Paolo found himself navigating on a primal plane with only one goal in mind. Operating on pure animal instinct, he pulled her toward him. He moved to fall on top of her, but she planted a tiny palm in the center of his chest.
If Paolo were a lion, he would have roared. She couldn’t be holding back now! Not when he needed her so badly.
“Do…do you,” she stammered. She attempted to say more then gave up.
Paolo held his breath and waited. He refused to say anything that would influence her present state of mind. In his experience the wrong word or even an exasperated sigh could send a woman running for the hills and refusing to speak to him ever again.
“You’re not going to make this easy for me are you?”
The sound of her nervous laughter drifted up from the shadows, enchanting him. He almost wished he could hear it more often.
Paolo shook himself. He had to keep things in perspective. There would only be one or two more times to establish enough evidence to leak to the press then he would send her home in shame with Robbie following in short order.
“Do you have any condoms?”
Paolo blinked, like he’d suddenly landed on earth and had no clue where he was. Throwing back the counterpane, he yanked open the bureau beside the bed.
Always the perfect host, Nico always supplied a box of condoms in each guest room. Paolo ripped into them then poured the entire box onto the bed. Before she could change her mind or even think about saying stop, Paolo rolled the latex over his cock.
Not wasting another minute, he rolled onto her, eagerly drawing her into his arms. He slid a thigh between her legs and positioned himself against her core.
At the very last second, he hesitated. She was so warm and slippery wet he was no longer sure of his staying power. The minute he entered her, he’d probably blow both of his heads.
Not wanting to go down in any woman’s diary as a minute man, Paolo willed himself to slow down, regain control of the situation.
His strategy seemed to work. The ball of tension at the base of his spine started to untangle and his cock had stopped screaming at him.
Alas, Yvonne didn’t get the same memo. She reached between them, grabbed a hold of the one-eye bastard and guided him between her legs. She lubed his cock with her pussy juices then fit the head against her wet slit.
Paolo gripped the bed sheets and clenched his teeth. He prayed it would be a tight fit. He didn’t want to think about any other man being privy to her sweet honey pot. She was his. From the moment he’d laid eyes on her he knew she belonged to him.
With a ragged sigh, she pressed up and into him. His gasp echoed her moan as they came together, his cock inching into her grasping sex.
Ask and you shall receive! “Cristo,” Paolo groaned. She was so tight he knew she had to be in pain. He moved to slide out of her.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m hurting you.”
To his surprise, Yvonne planted her hands on his shoulders and sat up, fully taking him in. Just like his fingers, her sweet walls locked down on him.
The feeling was so incredible. Paolo almost entered a catatonic state. He temporarily lost the ability to move or speak. All he could do was lie there and feel. She was heaven.
“It was a good pain,” she murmured, her warm breath tickling the sensitive skin next to his ear. Unable to help himself, he shivered all the way down to his toes. “And now you’re not. I’m ready for more.”
Meu Deus! Yvonne Floyd would surely be the death of him.
