His Every Need

by Terri L. Austin

  Allie grabbed his hips. “Self-control. No coming allowed.”

  “Ladies first,” he agreed.

  As he thrust his hips forward, the tip of his prick poked the bottom of her chin. He pulled back and drove forward once more. This time, Allie lowered her mouth and licked the head. Bloody fucking hell, that felt good. He did it a few more times, but the combination of her mouth, her tits, and watching his cock slide between them was too much.

  “I can’t take any more of that, love.” Relinquishing his hold on her breasts, he tore the condom wrapper open with his teeth. After he sheathed himself, he had her on her back in a flash.

  Never letting his eyes stray from her face, he cupped her breast, grazing her nipple with his thumb. She arched and dug her short fingernails into the back of his hand. Ah yes, Allie Campbell had very sensitive breasts. He would have to do something about that.

  Bending his head, he swirled the tip of his tongue around the areola, denying her what she wanted, licking in smaller circles, nibbling his way toward the center but never touching it.

  “Trevor, please.” She twisted her head and looked at him.

  He stopped. “Please what, darling?” He smiled cheerfully.

  “I hate you.”

  He leaned down and nipped the underside of her breast, causing her to gasp. He was dying, wanting to be inside her, but he so liked playing with her. “Please what?” he prompted.

  “Suck me, English.”

  Only then did he lick the rosy-pink point. He scraped his teeth along the length of it, pulled it in his mouth, and flicked it with the tip of his tongue. Then he moved his head to the other breast and carefully bit down. She leaned her head back, exposing her white throat. He hadn’t explored that part of her yet. But he would. Eventually, he would become acquainted with every bloody inch of her.

  Keeping his mouth clamped on her breast, he moved one hand to her pussy, rubbed the pad of his finger against her slit. She was slick and ready. Using his thumb, he circled her clit and slid a finger inside. She was smooth and wet, and she smelled so good. All the while, he continued to sweep his tongue across the hard flesh of her breast.

  Allie writhed beneath him and again grasped his hair with one hand. “I want your cock, Trevor.”

  “Yes.” He kissed her, almost tenderly as he slipped his finger from her body, but he wanted to be in her so badly, he ached.

  She wound both of her legs around him this time. He brushed his lips over one of her heated cheeks as he thrust inside her. To the hilt. Oh God, yes. “Talk to me, Allison.”

  She stroked his back. “Fuck me, Trevor.”

  There was no place he’d rather be than inside Allison Campbell. He felt the walls of her pussy clench around his cock. Then he ran his lips across hers. “Do that again. Tighten up.”

  She did as she kissed him back. Tighten and release. Over and over until he thought he’d go mad from it.

  Then he began moving, slowly at first, pulled out almost completely, then stroked back inside of her. Heaven. In and out, faster and faster.

  Allie’s soft moans had him straining. He wanted to hold off for as long as he could.

  She reached down and touched herself as she looked into his eyes.

  “Filthy details, Allison. Tell me what you like.”

  “I like…” She licked her lips and continued to move her fingers in small circles over her clit.

  “Tell me,” he ground out.

  “I like it when you take control. And when you fuck me hard.”

  He obliged and slammed his cock into her, retreated, then did it again. “Come,” he ordered. He couldn’t hold out much longer. “Come for me, Allison.”

  She did, bowing her back, shoving her breasts upward. He watched them sway as he continued to pound into her.

  He felt his balls tighten, and came. It was intense and powerful, draining him as he continued to pump. Even after he was empty, he thrust a few more times, burying his face in her neck. Her long hair tickled his cheek and he smiled against her damp skin.

  She ran her hand up and down his back, kissed his temple, smoothed the hair away from his face with her other hand. He lay on top of her, unable to move.

  How long they stayed that way, he had no idea. He didn’t care. He felt too good.

  Finally, he roused himself and leaned back as he gazed down at her. She was asleep. He tried not to jostle her when he stood, but she opened her eyes and stared up at him. Her gaze tracked him as he removed the condom, wrapped it in a tissue, and tossed it in the trash.

  He walked back to the sofa and, bending down, pushed aside a strand of her hair. “Are you all right, love?”

  “Mmm hmm.” With a smile, she stretched her arms over her head. His eyes strayed to her breasts once more.

  “I don’t remember the last time I felt this relaxed.” When she sat up, he straightened, giving her some room to move. She reached down and grabbed her clothes. As she pulled on the thin, white cotton shirt, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She stood and hiked the shorts up her legs, over her hips.

  She glanced over at him, taking in his face, chest, finally lowering to his cock, which had started to rise again. “Are you going to get dressed?” Her eyes remained fixed.

  “Haven’t decided.”

  “But you said Arnold frowns on nudity.”

  He swiveled his head left and right. “I don’t see him around, do you?”

  She looked like she was fighting a smile. Crossing her arms, she angled her head. “Are you telling me that you’re going to prance around the house buck naked?”

  He looked down his nose at her. “I’ve never pranced in my life, nor do I intend to start now.” A slow smile crossed his lips. “But the naked bit, well, that sounded like a challenge to me.”

  Chapter 11

  The next morning, Allie cracked one eye and glanced at the clock. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept until nine o’clock. ��Shit.” She sat up, the covers falling from her naked breasts. She’d promised to make French toast for Brynn.

  She glanced down, saw a bruise along the side of one breast. “Trevor.” She’d spent most of last night having lots and lots of mind-blowing sex with him. His tongue wasn’t just good for smartass remarks. She smiled at the memory. It was really good at other things too.

  She glanced over at the side of the bed where Trevor had spent the night. Picking up the pillow, she shook out the indentation where his head had been and mussed up the covers. She didn’t want Frances to know he’d been here. Silly but true. She was embarrassed. A mistress who didn’t want the help to know she was boinking their boss.

  She hopped up and scanned the room for her clothes. The robe lay on the floor by the door. Her sash lay half under the bed. She jerked on the robe and snatched the tie around her waist, then bent over and peeked under the dust ruffle. How the hell did her T-shirt and shorts wind up there?

  A knock sounded at the door and Frances walked in with a tray. “Oh good, miss, you’re awake.”

  Allie dropped the dust ruffle like it was on fire. “Good morning.”

  Frances set the tray on the table next to the bed and bustled over to the curtains, pulling them back, letting the bright morning light spill into the room.

  “Thanks, Frances, but you didn’t have to bring this to me.”

  “Mr. Blake thought you might like to have a lie in this morning. He said you had quite a late night.”

  Her cheeks flooded with heat. British bastard. Was he going to put it on a mobile billboard and parade it up and down the Strip?

  “Said he kept you up late, watching a movie. Loves those old movies, he does. Just like his grandfather, God rest his soul.”

  Allie’s shoulders sagged in relief at hearing his excuse. Wait, grandfather? “Yeah, that was sad.” Sh
e cast her eyes to the ground. She felt a little bad, playing Frances like this, baiting her for information on Trevor, but he never talked about himself.

  “Oh, I know. Gutted, Mr. Blake was. Like peas in a pod, they were.”

  “Did his parents attend the funeral?”

  “Mrs. Mags attended, of course.” Frances stepped into the bathroom. She emerged a minute later with an armful of dirty towels.

  Allie cast her eyes around the room, trying to think of what to ask next. “So, Trevor spent a lot of time with his grandpa?”

  “Almost every holiday. Not like he had much choice, mind you.”

  “What about his parents? Why didn’t he spend holidays with them?”

  The older woman stiffened her spine. “I don’t gossip. You’ll have to ask Mr. Blake if you want those kinds of details.”

  “I did. You know he’s never going to tell me. At least give me a hint. Or tell me why they got divorced in the first place.”

  Frances pursed her lips as though she’d sucked on a lemon and walked toward the door.

  “What did Nigel do to Trevor?” Allie’s words were rushed.

  Frances took a deep breath and turned around. “I’ll tell you this. There’s a reason why Mr. Blake don’t like seeing his parents none, but it’s his tale to tell. Mrs. Mags expects you downstairs in half an hour. Going shopping for the wedding.” With her head held high, she left the room.

  ***

  Allie sipped her coffee and reached for her phone. She texted Brynn, saying she was sorry for missing breakfast but she would be home after school.

  Brynn texted back that she had a club meeting and was going to study for a test with a friend afterward. Allie hoped it was true. Her little sister needed to socialize more. Brynnie seemed far too isolated these days.

  Allie still planned to stop by the house, maybe throw together a quick dinner and stick it in the fridge. Her dad wasn’t known for his cooking skills, and Allie hated the thought of them eating sandwiches while she dined on Mrs. Hubert’s four-course meals.

  After drinking her coffee, Allie stepped into the shower. As she stood beneath the warm spray of water, lathering her sex-sore body, thoughts of last night came pouring back. Trevor between her legs, Trevor touching her, sucking her, entering her from behind while she held on to the headboard for all she was worth. The last two days made up for the last four sexless years.

  She donned a pretty bra and panty set to match her red-and-white polka-dot sundress. She slipped on a pair of kitten-heeled sandals and made her way to the foyer, where Mags waited for her.

  “Good morning, darling.” She kissed Allie’s cheek. “The beefcake chauffeur is waiting for us. Let’s go.” She donned enormous sunglasses and headed outside.

  Allie trailed after her. Once they’d settled into the back of the limo, Allie avoided glancing at Mags and stared out the tinted window instead. How could she look at the woman when Allie kept thinking about the nasty, amazing sex she’d had with Trevor the night before? Awkward.

  “Are you and Trevor having a spat, dear?”

  Allie turned her head, her eyes wide. “No.”

  “Because he was terribly cross this morning. More so than usual, even.”

  Really? Allie would have guessed he’d be in a great mood—very sated and relaxed. Maybe she was the only one who thought the sex had been amazing. Earth shattering. Hotter than Vegas in the middle of August. What if it was just another shag to him?

  “What’s Nigel up to this morning?” Allie was desperate to change the subject.

  Mags sighed. “He took breakfast in the bedroom. I’m afraid he’s pouting, as the Blake men are prone to do.”

  “It’s none of my business, Mags, but why is Trevor so angry at the two of you?” Normally she wouldn’t have asked such a nosy question, but Trevor wouldn’t tell her anything and neither would Frances.

  The older woman said nothing for several seconds. Then she sighed. “The truth is, Nigel and I were never very attentive parents. I’m a passionate woman”—she placed her hand on her chest—“and Nigel is, well, let’s just say he has extremely powerful lusts.”

  Allie almost winced. “I shouldn’t have asked. It really is none of my business. I don’t need to know the details—”

  “When Trevor was young, Nigel and I were too caught up in our stormy relationship to give him the attention he needed.” Mags carried on as if Allie hadn’t spoken. Like mother, like son. “We divorced when Trevor was six. I remarried”—she flicked her wrist—“several times. And Nigel remarried too. Also several times.” Her eyes narrowed briefly.

  “Poor little Trevor got lost in the shuffle. I moved to Spain with one of my husbands, then to Australia with the next, to France, and finally to America. I just returned to England a year ago, where I reconnected with Nigel, and well, here we are.”

  Allie stared at Mags with an open mouth. “What about Trevor?” Was this why Trevor never spent holidays with his parents—no, screw holidays. How about every day? “Where was he during all this? With Nigel?”

  Shifting her legs, Mags twisted the diamond rings on her fingers. “Trevor went to boarding school when he was eight. Nigel and I thought it would offer him some continuity. And of course, he stayed with my father until then and spent holidays there as well.”

  That was the grandfather, the one who watched old movies with Trevor. Two peas in a pod. Allie knit her brow. “Hang on, eight years old?”

  Mags shrugged. “Boarding schools take children at a very young age. We thought it was for the best.”

  For whom? Allie tried to imagine what it would be like to have two completely self-absorbed parents send her away at the age of eight. Her parents had always been loving and caring, not only to her and her sisters, but to each other. Yes, her dad checked out mentally when her mom got sick, but before that, he’d been a good dad. Poor Trevor.

  “Why didn’t he stay with you during the holidays, Mags? Or Nigel?”

  Mags swallowed. When she removed her sunglasses, her eyes were shiny with tears. As she blinked them back, her long lashes fluttered rapidly. “I realize I’ve been a horrible mother, Allie. I do know that. I feel it every time I’m in the same room with him. I’ve always been too involved in my own life, so has Nigel. That’s why we’re here. We want to set things right with Trevor. We want him to be a part of this wedding so that we can all move forward. A new beginning.”

  Allie shook her head and tried to keep the judgment out of her voice, but it was difficult. “I don’t think it works like that.” They had damaged Trevor, abandoned him. How could he just get over that and move on?

  The limo stopped in front of Crystals. Simmons opened the door for them, and Mags replaced her glasses before exiting first. As she stood at the entrance, her smile seemed forced. She smoothed her hand down her tight blue dress. “Well, we’ll just have to hope for the best with Trevor, won’t we? I think I’ll get married in red this time. I’m so tired of dreary white.” She nodded at Simmons before strolling through the door.

  ***

  “What about this one, darling?” Mags stepped out of the dressing room wearing a very short, red bandage dress with a plunging neckline.

  Allie was speechless. “I hope you’re not getting married in a church. That dress is sinful.”

  “I was thinking about having it in Trevor’s garden.” Mags turned around and viewed her backside in the three-way mirror. “Of course, I haven’t told Trevor yet.” She twirled around and faced Allie. “How do I look?”

  Allie smiled. “Beautiful.” In fact, Mags looked more sexy and voluptuous than ever. Perfect for a Vegas wedding.

  Mags’s hands drifted over her breasts, her flat tummy, and hips, then smoothed their way across her ass. “I don’t like to brag, but I do look hot.” She grinned. “Oh, darling, who am I kidding? I love to b
rag.”

  Allie smiled. That was such a Trevor thing to say. He was more like his mother than he realized.

  “Now, what are you going to wear, Allison? How about something white and frothy? Like Changing Rooms, the bridal version?”

  “I’m not sure what that means, but it’s your wedding, Mags.” Allie shrugged. She didn’t want to wear something white and frothy. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be in the wedding at all.

  After hearing about Trevor’s childhood, Allie understood his animosity toward his parents. And while she liked Nigel and Mags, Allie disapproved of them too. She felt protective of Trevor, didn’t want to see him get hurt again. She knew he was a grown man, perfectly capable of taking care of himself, and she already had too many people to take care of. Still, she worried. That was the one thing she was good at.

  Allie watched Mags and the saleswoman flit around the store while she remained in the comfy chair and sipped sparkling water. Mags indulged in champagne, but after yesterday, Allie was sticking to nonalcoholic drinks. She reached out to the mirror-covered square table and nabbed a toast point covered with caviar. After one bite, she grabbed a napkin and wrapped up the rest of it, sticking the whole thing back on the table. Sipping her water to rid herself of the fishy, salty taste, she heard her phone buzz and pulled it out of her purse.

  “Where are you?” Trevor’s tone was clipped and impatient. The exact opposite of last night. Then, his words—whispered in a husky, sexy accent—had shocked and excited her. But now he acted like it never happened. So, last night really hadn’t meant anything to him.

  Her heart skipped a couple beats. She was being stupid. For him, this was the norm—sex was just sex. He didn’t attach any importance to it. But she felt like an idiot for being so satisfied and content this morning.

  She took a deep breath. “I’m great, English, thanks for asking.”

  “Fine. Allison, how are you, darling? Well, I hope. Now, where in the bloody hell are you?”

  “I’m in one of the most exclusive department stores in town, learning that caviar is disgusting and they should leave the poor fish eggs alone.”