Ultra Strokes

by Delilah Devlin

  Hands cupped his face. Thumbs swept away his tears. Then soft kisses peppered his cheeks, jaw, mouth. “Tell me.”

  He opened his eyes to find her soft green gaze glittering with concern. “This will be our life.”

  “And that saddens you?”

  “God, no,” he blurted, shamed by the ragged texture of his voice. He tightened his arm about her shoulder.

  Again, her mouth pressed against his, and then she rose heading to the dresser, where she shifted her clothing and pulled out the chain. Without a word, she returned to the bed, staring down at it while she cradled it in her hand. “I never wanted a slave. I didn’t lie when I said I wanted a partner, but more than anything, I would like for you to be my husband.” Her glance lifted, locking with his. “I won’t be sending you back.” She dropped the chip to the floor, then pressed her heel against it, quickly crushing it.

  Colm breathed deeply, blinking away his tears. He gave her a nod, then reached to pull her against him. “More than anything, I want to stay right here and be your husband.”

  Her smile crept slowly across her face. Moisture gathered in her eyes, and she laughed and wiped it away with the backs of her hands.

  Colm’s chest expanded. Happiness lifted guilt and helpless anger from his soul—borne away by the radiance of her smile. “What shall I call you?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Getting tired of ma’am?” she teased from beneath her dark lashes.

  He nodded.

  “Me, too. I’m Mary.”

  A sweet name for a woman who hid all her softness behind a facade of brisk competence. “I like it,” he murmured. “Do the fields need us, Mary?”

  “Not until the rain stops.”

  He narrowed his eyes and reached up to palm a small, round breast. The nipple was soft as velvet. The tip hardened beneath the press of his thumb.

  Her breath caught and held. She tossed back her head, shaking her hair behind her.

  “Grow it long,” he said.

  “For you, I will.”

  He arched a brow. “What else will you do to please me?”

  She narrowed her gaze, and then slowly straddled his body. “Whatever you desire.”

  “Am I now the master?”

  A sexy grin stretched across her pretty face and she shimmied her shoulders, making her rounded breasts jiggle. “If it pleases you.”

  Colm wondered at the trust she gave him, so quickly. They’d only just met. Perhaps she’d been lonely all those months alone as she’d waited her for her mate. The fact they seemed compatible, in at least this one aspect, had to be a deep relief. It was for him.

  He raised himself on his elbows and drew a turgid nipple between his lips. He nipped it, then sucked it deep into his mouth, giving it tugs and licks until she sighed and clutched his hair. When he drew back, he lifted her, urging her down his body.

  She needed no further instruction, kissing her way down his chest, teasing his belly with gentle bites and wet kisses until she knelt between his legs and took his cock into her mouth.

  Colm groaned as she devoured him, sifting her hair with his fingers, pinching her ears to pull her deeper. His cock filled, his balls drew closer to his groin. Her hands surrounded his shaft, her sweet mouth locked beneath the sensitive ridge surrounding his head and suckled while her tongue lavished it with wet sliding caresses.

  Joy like he hadn’t felt in years poured through his veins. But he wasn’t ready for release. He gripped her hair and pulled her from him. Then forcing her to her back, he ravaged her breasts with hot flicks of his tongue and stinging pinches which caused her to yelp and giggle.

  Smiling, he worked his way downward, hands caressing her smooth belly, fingers digging into her firm ass and thighs as he opened her. Arousal, potent and spicy, filled his nose as he buried his mouth between her legs and licked and suckled her labia and clitoris until she squirmed and bucked beneath him.

  When she was breathless and he was so hard he couldn’t wait a moment longer, he brought her over his body, watching as she guided him inside her with her fist clutching his cock. She let go, leaned back her head and sank deep, gliding downward in a single stroke until their groins met.

  Swaying over him, she paused. Her inner muscles clamped around him; liquid slicked her walls. “Do you think they planned the rain for just this purpose?”

  He grunted, not fond of the company, not wanting the big consortium to intrude into their bedroom, but what she said held merit. “Perhaps. But we had the choice of how to spend the down-time, Mary.”

  She began to move, slowly at first, inching up then down. His cock warmed inside her snug hollow. When a wave of heat swept through him, tensing his belly and his balls, he decided he’d let her savor the ride another day.

  He flipped them, relishing her cry of surprise. Without pausing, he stroked inside, clutching her buttocks to hold her close so that each roll of his hips tunneled deeply. The push-pull of his motions drew sighs and groans. Her legs moved restlessly, inner thighs rubbing his legs, then rising higher until she gripped his waist.

  Her small hands pushed against his chest, and he lifted himself, bracing on his arms, increasing the length of his strokes and giving each forward thrust a snap that shoved her body up the bed. Before long, the bed frame groaned, pounding against the wall.

  Mary’s breaths were shallow, open-mouthed. Sweat slicked both their bodies as they writhed together. When the first internal flutters heralded her blooming orgasm, Colm pounded harder, deeper, not satisfied until a garbled scream ripped from her throat.

  Only then did he let go, giving his own hoarse shout of triumph. His thrusts slowed. Her legs eased from his waist, and her arms plopped on the mattress. He sank over her, tucked his face into the corner of her shoulder and released an agonized sigh.

  She giggled beneath him. “That tickled,” came her throaty complaint.

  He raised his head, centered her face between his palms, and gave her a hard kiss. “Will you melt if you get wet?”

  Her brows shot high. “Too late on both counts.”

  His snort jerked against her chest. “I meant, would you mind taking a walk in the rain?”

  *

  A gentle, cleansing rain fell upon them. Clouds obscured the sun, but enough of its rays filtered around the edges that rainbows formed. The first she’d ever seen outside of storybooks. The colors were deep, magnificent, almost magical. “Do you think everyone feels like we do?”

  “And what do we feel?” he asked, amusement in his voice.

  “Happy. Hopeful.” She glanced sideways, hoping he didn’t think she was foolish.

  His gaze held steady on her face. “If they’re very lucky, they feel exactly as we do.”

  He held her hand as they walked beside the stream bank. She liked the way his large hand engulfed her own. Another reminder of his largeness, which she’d so thoroughly enjoyed.

  The place between her thighs felt hot. Her nipples raw. But she couldn’t wait for nightfall to beckon them back to bed. As odd as it seemed, she was already in love with Colm O’Riordan. Head over heels—with a man who’d arrived in manacles just a day ago.

  Rain continued to mist downward. Their clothes and hair were soaked, but they continued to walk. She didn’t mind the exercise or the comfortable silence.

  “It’s like we’re the only people on this planet,” he mused after a while. “It’s so quiet. Restful.”

  “The first week I was here, I wondered what was missing. Whether my ears weren’t working right. I was so used to the constant noise in the dome, the hum of the fans.”

  They neared the bend of the stream. Mary halted, eyeing the greenish object clinging to the edge of the bank. “Is that a tree?”

  “A bush, perhaps?”

  He let go of her hand, and they both walked toward it and knelt beside the spindly plant.

  “They planted orchards further north,” she said, touching the edge of a green leaf.

  “The company won’t be able to c
ontrol every element of this new world. Life will find a way to flourish.”

  “Or they’ll cut it down.” Suddenly, anger burst inside her. She raised her head and met his gaze. “Maybe we should replant it near the house.”

  A smile quirked up one corner of his mouth. “Are you suggesting we nurture rebellion?”

  She grinned. Maybe his attitude was rubbing off on her. “A quiet one. When it’s larger, it will give the house shade.”

  Colm laughed. “Ever practical.” They dug with their hands around the shallow roots and pulled up the sapling. Then he took off his shirt and wrapped it around the root ball.

  Saving the sapling seemed somehow momentous. Important. And this was the first decision they’d made together. Her smile stretched. Warmth filled her chest at the growing certainty they’d build a happy life together.

  When Colm captured her hand again, they headed home.

  Nip ’n’ Tuck

  ‡

  Gabby Brown heard the distant ding of the bell above the shop door and checked her watch. Noon. At last. She’d been nervous all morning and had stuck her fingers with pins until the pads tingled. She’d ushered out the last customer fifteen minutes ago, and then hurried to the restroom to run her fingers through her curly hair and gloss her lips. She wore her “uniform”—a cardigan over a plain, button-down blouse, a dark, knee-length skirt, and comfortable shoes.

  The clamps she’d attached to her nipples were concealed beneath her padded bra. The slim, short vibrator was already inside her; the remote tucked into a pocket of her sweater.

  She glanced at her reflection, pleased with her plain appearance.

  I can do this, she told herself. It wasn’t as though they were complete strangers. Perhaps she didn’t know what he looked like, but he’d learned her secrets, her passions while sharing his own. He’d slowly stoked a fire inside her, promising her a discreet thrill. The first of many.

  For a woman who had somehow let her youth slip by, the chance to live out a few of her favorite fantasies was too enticing to ignore. He’d promised an elicit pleasure. A test run, of sorts. To save embarrassment or hurt feelings, they’d also agreed to hold off discussing future engagements until they could meet again that evening online. And because she’d admitted she was shy about revealing her body this first time, today she would remain fully clothed.

  Leaving the bathroom, she pulled back the curtain separating the store from her fitting room. Her glance landed on the long lean body faced away, looking at a pair of ugly plaid golf trousers. When his hand reached for the hanger, she smiled.

  Their pre-arranged signal.

  Forcing away her smile, she entered the room and strode quietly up behind him. When she stood beside his shoulder, she enjoyed the fact she had to tilt back her head when she turned to meet his gaze. He was bigger than she’d thought he’d be. “Would you like to try them on?”

  The face that turned her way was more handsome than he’d led her to believe. A strong angular chin, a blunt nose. Dark thick eyebrows framed a pair of curious brown eyes.

  A frown dug a line between those dark eyebrows then his gaze flicked to hers again. “The pants are ugly as hell,” he murmured.

  “I’ll help you with them, if you like. You could try them on for size,” she said, suddenly breathless, flirting with her eyes and lips. She bit her bottom lip, and then released it with a little laugh.

  His slow, answering smile melted her. It was crooked and dug a dimple into one cheek. He was younger than she’d initially thought, looking at him.

  Eager now, she grabbed the hanger, clamped her hand around his fingers, and tugged him along. “Come with me.”

  And he did, much to her relief. There was no sign he was disappointed with her appearance. No reluctance in the drag of his feet. Just a quirk of his eyebrows and a quick glance around the shop.

  “Don’t worry.” She glanced at the bell above the door. “We’ll know if anyone comes in. I’ll be quick.”

  He cleared his throat but ducked through the curtain to follow her inside her little room.

  She knew what he saw. A dingy little airless room. A sewing machine on a dented work table. A rack crammed full of clothing she’d already mended, shortened, let out… She was a seamstress—not a sexy job—at least, not until he’d convinced her otherwise.

  “This is where you work?” he asked, his voice sounding slightly bemused.

  She lifted a shoulder. She’d warned him the shop wasn’t much. “I make a living.”

  “Doing…alterations?” His eyebrow quirked.

  “Exactly. But we don’t have a lot of time. Marlon will be back from lunch in half an hour,” she said, mentioning the shop owner who’d employed her for over ten years. She lifted her chin toward the pants still clutched in his hands. “Try them on. We’ll discuss the fitting.”

  Both eyebrows shot up this time. “Right here?”

  The playacting was fun but now that she’d seen him, she wanted action. “If you’re shy, you can use the restroom, but there’s no need. Not with me.”

  He gave a slight snort, shook his head, but set the pants on her work table. He took off his sports coat, loosened his tie, and then toed off his well-shined black shoes. When his hands paused at his belt buckle, he rested his gaze on her for a long moment.

  She decided to make this a little easier. She strode toward him, shooed away his hands, and holding his gaze, she unbuttoned his waistband and slid down the zipper.

  A muscle straddling his jaw flexed. “This a full-service establishment?”

  Her grin dug a dimple into her cheek. She liked his sly wit. “I live to serve,” she said, giving him a wink.

  “You’re pretty,” he whispered.

  He sounded surprised. So she believed his words. “Thanks for saying that. I hardly ever go to the bother of makeup, but I wanted to look special today,” she admitted, feeling heat rise along her neck.

  “Today’s special,” he said, his voice uninflected.

  “Yes.” Grabbing his waistband, she dragged his pants off his hips. Her gaze dropped to the erection tenting his boxers. “Very special,” she whispered.

  His trousers fell around his ankles, and she knelt to hold them while he stepped out. She liked his legs, liked the dark hair cloaking his olive skin, the muscle tensing in his thighs as she stood, her hands grazing him lightly as she came up.

  She reached for the bright green golf pants and dangled them off a finger.

  Again, his eyebrows shot up.

  “Like we agreed,” she said breathlessly. “Put them on.”

  “But…”

  Oh, nice touch. She shook her head at his reluctance, raising her finger like a schoolteacher to scold him. “Let me work…first.”

  He blew out a slow breath, and then pulled on the pants, one leg at a time, hopping a bit when he was unbalanced.

  Her gaze ate him up, watched the bounce of his thickening cock. Red splotches bloomed on his cheeks, and she heard his soft curse. She suppressed a grin. He was being a good sport about this. She’d been the one to design the scenario. Something she’d always fantasized about doing to a stranger, but had never had the courage to try. Not until “TallDarkBanker” teased her in a private chat room into revealing her innermost desires.

  The ugly plaid slid up his thighs. He closed the waist then set his hands on his hips and glared down his legs in disgust. “Really? Who buys these?”

  She laughed, reached into her pocket, withdrew the remote and extended her hand.

  He blinked then gave her a narrowed glance. But he took it, holding it in his palm. After a moment, he flicked the ON button with his thumb.

  The sound of the vibrator, although muffled, was unmistakable.

  As was her sudden lurch. Wild vibrations bounced along her channel walls. She rested a hand on her belly. “Try for a gentler setting,” she said, her breaths gusting until he tapped the button twice more.

  His gaze slid down her body.

  Her knees we
re clamped tight, and she eased her stance as the vibrations settled into a softer hum. Taking a deep breath, she picked up her tape measure, slid her pincushion over her wrist, and knelt at his feet. Keeping her head down, she cleared her throat. “To what side do you dress, sir?”

  “To what side…?”

  Gabby raised her head and stared steadily at his rounded crotch.

  “Ah…um, to the left.”

  She pinched the fabric between her fingers, tugging it taut to reveal the shape of his thick cock as it stretched down his thigh. She plucked a pin from her pincushion and folded the fabric, creating a pouch that emphasized his cock. She stuck a pin into the fold to hold it.

  His thigh twitched. “Careful with those.”

  “I’m very, very good,” she said. Then gliding a finger along the seam just behind his balls, she dragged her fingertip up the divide between his firm buttocks, ignoring his hissing breath and the clench of his firm buttocks, and leaned closer. She pulled the fabric tighter, the seam sinking between his cheeks.

  “Anyone actually wear them this way?” he asked, his voice rising.

  A smile tugged her lips. “I’m just getting your measure.”

  “Better make sure you leave more room then,” he growled softly.

  A grin tugged at her mouth. “You’re right, sir. I should see how much fabric I should leave…for comfort.” She let go of the fabric, removed the pin at his thigh, and efficiently unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Then standing close to his chest, pressing against him to increase the pressure on her clamped nipples, she slid her palms inside the back of his pants and beneath the waist of his boxers, and smoothed them both down his buttocks.

  Beneath her fingers, his skin was taut and muscled. When she’d pulled all the material down his thighs, she glanced up to gauge his reaction.

  His skin was stretched across sharp-boned cheeks. His gaze was just as hard-edged and focused on her mouth.

  Just as they’d agreed, she leaned toward his cock, letting her eyelids drift down halfway, and breathed in his scent as she rubbed her cheek against his satiny shaft.

  “Fuck me,” he muttered softly.