Matchless

by Brynley Bush

  His other hand slides up my bare leg, lifting the hem of my dress as he easily slips it under my skimpy panties to cup my bare buttocks.

  “I haven’t been able to think about anything but making you come since I saw you bent over the pool table,” he says, his voice husky.

  Oh god, yes!

  “You should do something about that,” I say breathlessly. “I certainly don’t want to be responsible for your lack of focus.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” he says, and I can feel the curve of a smile on his lips as they trail down my neck. His deft fingers have slid my dress off my shoulders before I’m aware of it happening, so intent am I on what his lips and tongue are doing to my bared skin. Then his mouth is on mine again, hot and needy with a hint of brutal ferocity that makes me sag against the wall. As his mouth claims mine, his hands make quick work of removing my dress, and when we both come up for air I’m almost surprised to find myself naked except for my navy lace panties and adhesive bra.

  “What the hell is this?” he growls, looking at my bra which consists of foam cups molded to my breasts with no straps or back, and I can’t quite suppress a giggle.

  “It’s an adhesive bra,” I explain. “You wear it with a backless dress so there aren’t any straps showing.”

  “How do I get it off?” He bites the words out in frustration.

  “You just pull it off,” I say, moving my hand to show him.

  “Uh uh,” he says, braceleting my wrist with his strong fingers and holding it firmly at my side. “I’ll do it.” With his other hand, he gently peels the bra away like he’s unwrapping a present. My breasts, freed from the bra, feel achingly heavy.

  “You’re beautiful, Mila,” he breathes, lowering his head to take one tender bud into his mouth. I groan and arch into him.

  His tongue swirls around the sensitive tip until it becomes engorged and erect under his ministrations. He moves to my other breast, alternately sucking and swirling until I am writhing against the wall. As his hand moves to cup my free breast, kneading it gently, his teeth fasten over my nipple. I hold my breath, feeling myself grow wetter. He nips lightly and I almost come right then.

  “So sensitive,” he marvels appreciatively, rising up so he towers over me again. Releasing my wrist, he grasps a nipple between each thumb and forefinger, rolling them until I squirm. With a slight smile, he says with satisfaction, “I like making you squirm.”

  He rolls them again and tugs gently, sealing his mouth to mine when I cry out. I can feel the moisture pool between my legs as a jolt zings straight to my aching clit. He continues to torment my tender nipples, pinching and pulling until I’m certain I can’t take anymore.

  He stops abruptly, and although just seconds ago I thought I might explode if he touched them one more time, I instantly long for the feel of his hands on my breasts again. Instead, his fingertips graze lightly down my sides, raising chill bumps over my entire body. His warm lips burn a path down the column of my neck, continuing down the valley between my breasts and over the sensitive plane of my belly as he sinks to his knees in front of me. I tangle my fingers in his dark blonde hair, holding on for dear life. He slowly peels off my underwear, pausing to kiss the tender inside of my thigh. I shudder as his thumbs part my slick folds. I should be embarrassed—naked and splayed open with this gorgeous man fully clothed and kneeling before me—but I am too drunk with need to care.

  He slides one finger along my slit, spreading my juices, and I tilt my hips toward him, wanting…needing more. He slides one finger carefully into me and I close my eyes.

  “So tight,” he hums appreciatively.

  He pulls out and pushes back in with two fingers this time, and I moan as I involuntarily clench around him. He is as talented with his hands as he is gorgeous. He slides his fingers slowly in and out, and I whimper as the heat spreads through my body.

  His strong hands cup my bare buttocks as he lifts me off the ground, hooking my legs over his shoulders, my back pressed against the wall for leverage. He easily supports my weight as he lowers his mouth to the apex of my thighs. I am powerless to move, pinned like a butterfly against the wall as his tongue tastes me, infuriatingly gentle at first and then becoming more insistent as it strokes over my sex. His tongue grazes over my clit and I buck my hips the tiny distance his firm grip allows. Oh god. I think I’m going to die. At least I’ll die happy.

  He works me into a frenzy, his tongue lightly circling my clit and then flicking it again and again until I’m panting, my muscles tightening with the impending release.

  “Please,” I beg, feeling the tightening in my core.

  In response, he pulls my clit into his mouth, taking the sensitive nub between his teeth and pulling gently. That’s all it takes. My thigh muscles clench as the pleasure sears through me and I shatter into a thousand brilliant pieces.

  “I want you inside me,” I whisper as the shudders subside, suddenly aching with the need for him to fill me. He eases me off my perch on his shoulders and I slide bonelessly to the floor.

  He stands, and cupping his hands under my upper thighs, he effortlessly lifts me, holding me close to his chest as he crosses the room with long strides and lowers me gently onto the leather couch. As I reach to unbutton his jeans, he stops me, his hand over mine.

  “I…we can’t have a relationship,” he says, suddenly serious.

  “Having a sudden attack of scruples?” I tease.

  He smiles, but concern still fills his eyes. “Something like that. I like you. And you deserve better than what I have to offer. But I can’t offer any more.” He rakes a hand over his face. “I have some personal stuff going on right now, and I’m going to be out of the country for a while. Although I wish it were otherwise, it’s not a good time.”

  I place my finger over his lips, stopping him. I don’t want any fabricated excuses to cheapen the way I’m feeling right now. He sucks my finger into his mouth.

  “It’s okay,” I say, my breath hitching as he swirls his tongue around my fingertip erotically. “I like you too, but I promise I don’t want anything more than this one night. The last thing I need right now is a relationship.”

  Releasing my finger, he bends down to kiss me hard. Pulling back slightly, he stares into my face intently, gauging my sincerity, his concern still evident.

  I unbutton his jeans and ease the zipper down so that I can slip my hand inside to caress the hard length of him.

  “I want this as much as you do,” I assure him, leaning up to kiss the corners of his sexy mouth. “But if you keep questioning it, I’m going to start thinking about how I need to go home and water my plants, and the work I brought home over the weekend, and…”

  With lightning speed, he bends his head and captures my nipple, biting down hard enough to make me squeal.

  “What was that for?” I demand, although the tiny unexpected pain secretly thrills me, sending little frissons of desire skittering across my nerve endings.

  “Just making sure you stay focused,” he says, smiling wickedly at me. “I promise you aren’t going to be able think about anything but how good I feel inside you and how many times I’m going to make you come.”

  His words, raw and carnal, inflame me more, and I squeeze his hard cock through the fabric of the boxer briefs he’s wearing. He lightly licks each of my nipples before standing up next to the couch, pulling his shirt off in one smooth motion. My mouth goes dry at the sight of him, his pecs and abs even more defined than his t-shirt had suggested. I can’t believe this gorgeous man is mine for the evening.

  Sitting up, I ease his jeans and underwear over his hips, my eyes widening as his member pops out, long and hard and throbbing with his hunger for me. I take him in both hands, my fingers wrapping around him as I slide my fists from root to tip. He doesn’t move but I can feel the faintest quiver thrum through him.

  “You have no idea the effect you have on me,” he groans.

  “Oh, I have a pretty good idea,” I say with a smile, st
roking the length of him again.

  He catches my wrists, preventing me from stroking him again. “I’m only human, Mila,” he says raggedly. “My self-control only goes so far.”

  I lean forward to kiss the hard plane of his stomach. “Show me,” I whisper, circling my tongue in an erotic circle around his naval. “I want to see how you lose control.”

  “Don’t move,” he says harshly, letting go of my hands and taking a step backward. “I need to get a condom.”

  He stalks across the room, his naked body illuminated by the moonlight streaming in through the open glass windows that line the back of his house. He looks like a Greek god, all bronzed skin and carved muscles. He disappears for a minute and returns, his member already sheathed and obviously ready to go. My mouth goes dry at the sight of it. It throbs, as thick and powerful as the man himself.

  He sinks down on the couch next to me, half-reclining as he pulls me onto his lap. I maneuver myself so I am straddling him, my knees on either side of his hips. His hands slide over my bare back as I bend down to kiss him, sucking his tongue into my mouth. My fingers tangle in his hair and I marvel again at the softness of it. He deepens the kiss and I gently nibble on his lower lip, inwardly smiling as he groans and tightens his grip, pulling me closer. I scoot forward on his lap so that I’m astride his cock and I rock my hips slightly, stroking myself against him. He feels so good! I skim my fingertips over the hard lines of his chest and lean forward, licking his small, flat nipples with the tip of my tongue.

  “Mila!” he says warningly.

  I nip the right one, laughing when his cock bobs up against my mound. “Just making sure you stay focused,” I tease.

  “Don’t worry,” he says intensely. “I can assure you I’ve never been more focused on anything in my life.”

  He grasps my hips and in one fluid motion lifts me up slightly and lowers me slowly onto his rigid cock. I gasp. He’s big and I’m snug, and he stretches me to a point that is just this side of painful, filling me completely. But heaven help me, it feels every bit as good as I’d thought it would.

  His hands roam reverently over my breasts. He circles each areola and I feel my nipples tighten in anticipation. Instead, his hands continue moving downward.

  Confused, I say, “It’s too soon.” I know my clitoris is too sensitive for me to have another orgasm on the heels of the spectacular one he just coaxed out of me.

  “Nonsense,” he says.

  Nonetheless, his hands instead skim around my waist and over the curve of my ass and I wiggle a little at the sheer pleasure of his touch. He moves one finger downward, parting my cheeks slightly, and I stiffen. He smiles faintly as he presses lightly against the tight whorl briefly before moving his hand away to squeeze my butt cheek. What was that? No one has ever touched me there before, and I’m surprised that I find it erotic. Of course, getting a root canal would probably feel erotic with Griffin.

  My breath catches as his thumb finds my clitoris again. Pressing gently, he rubs it with the tiniest of circular motions. Holy shit, it feels incredible. I roll my hips, slowly at first and then faster, matching his speed as he increases the tempo of what he’s doing to my clit. When that’s not enough, I begin to ride him, feeling everything begin to gather deep inside me with each powerful thrust of him inside me.

  Holding me tightly, his thumb still circling my once again engorged clit, Griffin shifts ever so slightly and then thrusts deeply into me, connecting with my sensitive g-spot. The sensation is incredible; at first it feels like I have to pee but then it becomes an overwhelming, indescribable feeling that suffuses my whole body. He does it again and again and I feel every muscle in my body contract until I’m one tightly coiled ball of need. I hang there, my body strung tight like the string of a kite being pulled by the wind, and then I let go and fly. He soars with me, his strong arms banded around me as he gives one last powerful thrust and shudders, his teeth sinking into my shoulder as he comes with the same intensity that he wrung from me.

  We stay there, clasped together until our breathing slows.

  “Thank you,” he finally says, gently lifting my chin until I’m looking into his eyes. His fingers touch my lips as he looks at me intently. Then he kisses me, and I am lost. How ironic that I've never felt more prized and precious than with an acknowledged one-night stand. I’ve got to hand it to him; he's good. Of course, it’s easy to be perfect for just one night.

  I run my finger across his jaw, feeling the beginning scruffiness of his morning beard and he smiles, his eyes crinkling again at the corners in a way that releases something warm in my belly.

  “Thank you,” I say. “That was the best thirtieth birthday present ever!”

  He sits up abruptly, almost throwing me off his lap. With razor sharp reflexes, he catches me before I fall, pulling me back against his chest. “It's your birthday?”

  I glance at the digital clock glowing in the nearby kitchen. It's two thirty in the morning.

  “Well, it was,” I sigh. “It’s late. I should go.”

  “It's not tomorrow until the sun comes up,” he says languidly. “Stay. Celebrate the rest of your birthday with me. Let me make love to you for the rest of the night.”

  I look at him, this gorgeous Adonis, and know that I should leave now. This was probably a mistake and a monumental one at that. But it’s a mistake I’d make over and over again, and I’m powerless to leave. Like some perverse Cinderella, I want to stay for the whole ball, knowing the glass slipper is never going to fit.

  I nod and say softly, “I’ll stay.”

  Chapter Four

  “Let’s go for a walk on the beach,” he says impulsively.

  The beach? Now? It sounds crazy to me, but I’m determined to enjoy my birthday one-night stand to the fullest, and I vow to myself to say yes to everything he suggests until the sun comes up.

  “Okay,” I say, shifting out of his lap. “Let me get dressed.”

  “No, wait,” he says, moving off the couch in one fluid movement. “Just a second.”

  He disappears up the stairs and comes back with a gray hoodie emblazoned with the words ‘Take No Prisoners’ and hands it to me. “I can’t help you out with pants, but this should be long enough on you that you can do without.” He smiles devilishly. “I’ll enjoy the view more this way anyway.”

  I had slipped my panties back on while he was gone, and now I slide the sweatshirt over my head. It comes mid-thigh on me, but I’m still consciously aware of the fact that I’m wearing nothing but my skimpy underwear underneath.

  I must look unconvinced because Griffin says persuasively, “It’s two thirty in the morning. We can literally walk out my door and be on the beach. I doubt we’ll run into anyone.”

  I look around his condo, really seeing it for the first time without the haze of lust. The place is gorgeous, with clean, modern lines and lots of windows that give it an open airy feel even in the middle of the night. Being right on the beach, it’s also prime real estate.

  “Wow!” I breathe. “The security business must be good.”

  “It’s not bad,” he agrees easily, walking over to the wall of windows and opening a glass door that is cleverly incorporated into the middle. It leads out to a small patio, and just beyond that is the beach. I can hear the rhythmic roll of the waves from where I’m standing inside. Without giving me a chance to think about it any longer, he grabs my hand and pulls me out onto the patio and into the night.

  It’s late August and the weather is mild, as it always is in San Diego, but the breeze off the ocean makes me appreciate the hoodie. We’ve only taken half a dozen steps out the door before the cool sand is beneath our bare feet. Griffin wraps his arm around me, tucking me into his side as we walk toward the ocean.

  “What kind of name is Mila?” he asks as we walk along the wet edge where the ocean meets the sand.

  “It’s short for Milena,” I say. “My mother’s Russian. Even though she says she’s one hundred percent American now, both my
sister and I have Russian names, and so did every pet we had growing up.”

  Griffin laughs softly. “Tell me one.”

  “Let’s see, we had a dog named Igor, another named Stoli, and a cat named Anastasia, although she kept getting lost.”

  Griffin throws his head back and laughs, and I once again realize how breathtakingly gorgeous he is. He pulls me closer and kisses the top of my head. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Mila.”

  I don’t want him to say sweet things like that that can’t possibly mean anything, so I pull away slightly, purposely ignoring his comment and say, “What about your family? Do they live here?”

  He shakes his head. “My dad and my older brother, Beckett, live in Houston, where I grew up. They’re both doctors. My youngest brother, Drake, is in the music industry.”

  He doesn’t mention his mother and I don’t ask. Some confidences aren’t meant for a relationship that is destined to last less than twelve hours. Instead, I ask him how he ended up in San Diego and he tells me about his love affair with water, which started with an early aptitude for swim lessons and ended up with him living with the ocean outside his door. “I could never live anywhere else,” he says as we walk along the beach. “The sound of the waves, the ocean itself, is my lifeblood.”

  As we walk, we talk about our families and how different San Diego is from where we both grew up. It’s got to be at least three in the morning, and it’s surreal to be walking along the beach in the moonlight with no one else in sight.

  “C’mon, let’s swim,” he says suddenly.

  “Now?” I ask incredulously. “It’s dark. That can’t be safe!”

  “I’m an excellent swimmer. I’ll keep you safe.”

  I look at him consideringly. It occurs to me briefly that I barely know Griffin. He could be an ax murderer for all I know, and if he tied a brick to me and threw me into the ocean no one would ever know what happened. However, instead of being uneasy or afraid, I feel completely safe with him.

  “Do you trust me?” he asks as if reading my mind, his eyes serious as he holds out his hand.