by Nia Farrell
Flynn raised his gaze to meet hers. Sara was watching him with a lambency in her eyes that he couldn’t fail to recognize.
He could smell her arousal. If he slid his fingers between her legs, he was certain that he’d find her panties wet with her juices.
Lifting his head, he covered her breast with his hand and gave it a squeeze. “We good?” he asked. She nodded. “One more time, then.”
Leaning over her, he took off the second clamp, fastened his mouth over her nipple, and sucked it to ease the hurt. Consumed by desire, she sought to get closer, thrusting her pelvis, begging to be touched.
She speared her fingers into his hair. Clasping his head, she arched her back and pressed her breast more fully into his mouth. He caught the nipple between his teeth and teased it with his tongue, licking and flicking it while his fingers claimed her other breast.
“Flynn,” she breathed. “Fuck me.”
He knew what this was. She had just revisited the scene where she’d nearly died. She was seeking a life-affirming action, but was sex the best answer?
“Are you sure, babe?” It didn’t matter that he was rock hard for her. As her Dominant, it was his responsibility to put her needs before his own.
She covered his fly with her hand and squeezed his erection through his jeans. “Yes,” she breathed. “Please, Flynn. Don’t make me beg.”
Framing her face in his hands, he bent down and brushed her lips with his. She put her palms on his shoulders and spread her fingers wide, sweeping them over his chest, seeking and finding the barbells in his nipples. She teased them with her palms, sending electric currents racing to his groin.
He bit her lower lip. When she gasped, he slammed his mouth over hers and thrust his tongue inside to mate with hers, an erotic duel that left them both panting with need.
Flynn shoved a hand down the front of her panties, threaded his fingers through her curls, and found her lonely clit. Coaxing it out of its hood to play, he fanned and teased it, then dove deeper to fondle her swollen folds.
She thrust her hips against him, humping his hand. Her pussy was soaking wet. He traced her seam and parted it with his middle finger. Pushing up, he found her opening and worked his way into her tight, juicy channel, feeling her walls resist then yield to his invasion. He didn’t stop until he was knuckle-deep.
Curling his finger, he found her G-spot and brought her to a shattering climax. Her pussy milked his finger, her walls spasming, rippling along its length. He wished it had been his dick, but this was about her, not him.
He fucked her with his finger, letting her ride his hand, adding a second finger once he’d stretched her out a bit. Pulling out, he grabbed the sides of her panties and yanked them down. He stood to finish pulling them off her feet and tossed them aside.
His boots went next. He felt her gaze when his fingers went to the waist of his jeans, found the button, and pushed it free. His erection strained the zipper. He opened it slowly, taking care to not catch anything on the way down. Hooking his fingers in his waistband, he shoved his jeans over his hips and down his legs, freeing one then the other, until he was as naked as a Michael Stokes model.
The way she looked at him, he felt like one. The woman liked ink, no doubt about it. Her gaze drifted south to his cock. He stroked himself, working pre-cum from the tip.
“Bend your knees up,” he told her. “Put your heels by your ass and make room for me, sugar.” The chair wasn’t nearly as wide as a bed. You could fuck on it, but positions were limited.
Letting go of his dick, he crawled between her legs, not stopping until the head of his cock was nudging her crotch. Planting his palm by her head, he took hold of himself with the other hand and stroked her folds, wetting himself with her juices.
She palmed his pecs, spread her fingers, and squeezed, measuring the size of his muscles. He flexed his hips, demanding entrance and achieving it in a single thrust that took her breath away. She bucked and writhed beneath him, struggling to accommodate his length and girth. The truth was, he more than filled her. He had to work for every inch, but eventually, he was balls-deep in her sweet, welcoming warmth.
He started really fucking her, then, building in speed and intensity until he was pounding into her. She climaxed twice more while he was screwing her. Her juices coated his cock and gave the lubrication he needed to keep from fucking her raw.
When he felt himself nearing the end, he had three choices: finish in her mouth, mark her front, or finish in her ass. “I need to come,” he grated. His balls tightened, getting ready to unload.
“My mouth,” she panted. “I want you in my mouth.”
Good enough.
He pulled out, stood up, and moved to stand by her head. Rolling onto her side, she braced herself on one elbow, took his cock in her hand, and leaned until her lips kissed his crown. Licking the head, she opened wide and took him in, inch by inch, until he was poking the back of her throat. Adjusting her angle, she took a breath, slid her hand to grab his ass, and took him another inch deeper.
“God damn,” he grated, weaving his fingers in her hair and taking control. “Sugar. Fuck. So good. That’s it. Take me. Take it all.” He fucked her face but he couldn’t last long. He’d been about to blow his load in her box. Once he was deep in her throat, the end came on him like a summer storm. Lightning flowed in his veins, striking deep. His cum exploded in a deluge that flooded her mouth. She kept her lips tight around him, struggling to contain it and managing to swallow nearly all of his jizz.
He shuddered one last time and pulled out. She caught a drip that had escaped and sucked it off her finger. Fuck, if that wasn’t one of the sexiest things he’d ever seen.
“Stay right there. I’ll get washcloths and towels to clean up.”
“I don’t think I can move anyway,” she said. “I may not be able to walk.”
“Good.” Flynn ran the water in the sink until it was nice and warm. “If I’ve done it right, you should feel it for days.” Wetting two washcloths, he squeezed them out and grabbed two towels. “Roll onto your back,” he ordered. Pulling up the rolling stool, he draped the towels over one thigh, put his washcloth on the other, and started cleaning her up, wiping her face, her breasts, and between her legs.
He caught the wince that creased her face. “Sore?”
“Yeah. It’s been a while.”
He lightened his touch. “How long?”
She gnawed on her lip before answering. “Three years.”
Holy fuck. “You mean, not since…?”
“Yeah. Not since.”
“What about birth control? I mean, we should be safe this time, but…”
“If we’re going to do this again, you’ll need to wear a condom.”
Just the thought made him cringe inside. “That works for short term, but we need to look at the bigger picture. Can you take the pill, or get one of those shots? IUDs work for some women, too. I can do rubbers, but I’ll be honest. After feeling you skin to skin, it’s gonna suck to wrap up.”
“Flynn,” she whispered. “What are we doing?”
“What do you want me to say? You’re way out of my league, sugar. I shouldn’t want you, yet here we are. This is new territory for me. I don’t do relationships, but I do know that I want more than tonight. It’s just…I don’t want to put a label on it. For now, I’d rather us be two people, finding their way together. Is that gonna be enough for you?”
She searched his face. If she was looking for reassurances and promises of a potential future, he wasn’t going to lie to her. He’d stopped believing in happily ever after years ago.
“Okay,” she said at last. “With one thing. If this doesn’t work out…if you decide that I’m not enough for you, at least have the decency to tell me. Otherwise, I’ll expect you to keep your dick in your pants unless you’re with me.”
The kitten had claws after all. “Deal,” he said. “Now, I still owe you chocolate and a bottle of water.”
He went naked to t
he breakroom. When he came back, Sara had put on her underwear. She hadn’t asked for permission, and he hadn’t told her to dress. Normally, he would teach her a lesson and administer discipline, but he sensed that she was too vulnerable right now for basic submissive training, especially when he wasn’t yet officially her Dom. They needed to have an in-depth discussion about hard and soft limits and agree on the when and where of things.
She drank some of her water first. The look on her face when she bit into the chocolate and let it melt in her mouth was enough to make him want her again.
Seeing his erection, her eyes grew wide. She swallowed hard.
“Finish eating,” he rumbled. “Then take off your panties. It’s my turn next.”
“I’m good,” she croaked, handing him what was left of the chocolate.
“Were you?” He arched a brow and looked pointedly at her breasts and groin. “Did I say that you could get dressed?”
“N-no,” she stammered.
“And what about now? What did I tell you to do?”
“You said to take off my panties.”
“But they’re still on, aren’t they?”
She blushed like the girls in his eighth grade sex ed class.
He pulled them off, buried his face in the crotch, and filled his senses with the musk of her arousal. “Just for that, I’m keeping these. Next time, you’ll remember.”
“But—”
“No argument, or you’ll earn yourself a spanking.” He tossed the panties on top of his jeans. “My turn to snack. I want you on your hands and knees. Hands where your shoulders were. Knees in the middle here.” He wanted her low enough, if things heated up, that he could press her down and fuck her without having to reposition her.
Sara obeyed, placing herself exactly where he’d said. Getting creative, he bit off a small piece of chocolate, parted her labia, and tucked it in her box with his tongue.
She squirmed when she felt what he’d done.
He smacked her ass, not hard, but it was enough to get her attention. “Settle,” he said. “Don’t you dare move away from me.” Once she’d gone still, he started licking her pussy, tasting her musk at first, then the tantalizing mix of dark chocolate and her juices. Gripping her hips, he pressed his face deeper and began fucking her with his tongue, alternating licks and strokes with forays around her clitoris. When she was wet enough, he dragged his tongue up her taint and rimmed her asshole, smacking her rear again when she tried to deny him.
He stuck his tongue in her ass and a finger in her pussy, fucking them both until she was panting and whimpering with need. Wetting his thumb, he pushed it into her ass as deep as it would go and held it there, letting his fingers rest on her tailbone while he starting eating her pussy again.
When he was on the verge of blue balls, he bit her cheek and pulled out. “Don’t move. Stay exactly where you are.”
Flynn cleaned his hand, poured coconut oil into his palm, and lubed himself up. He poured more on his fingers and returned to the chair. Finding her bunghole, he lubed the outside and started stretching her out. “Relax,” he crooned. “Tightening up won’t feel good for either of us.”
“You don’t have a condom,” she said, grunting the words through her teeth.
“Don’t need one where I’m going.”
“But—”
“Exactly,” he interrupted. “Jesus. You’d think you’ve never done anal.”
Sara went perfectly still.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Babe, tell me the truth. Am I about to tap a virgin hole?”
He held his breath, waiting for her answer.
Chapter Nine
Sara knew better than to lie to him. There was no pretty way to put it. “I tried it once. It hurt too much. We never went there again.”
Her admission didn’t seem to faze him. Instead, he looked like he welcomed the challenge. “Almost a virgin, then. It shouldn’t hurt, not if I’ve prepped you right. That’s what I’m doing now, lubing you up, stretching you out, getting you ready to take my cock up your ass. We’ll go slow. You tell me what you’re feeling. Use your safewords if you have to. Green means you’re good. Yellow means to take it slow. If you trust me to do this right, you won’t even think about calling red.”
The odd thing was, she did trust him. Beneath that bad boy biker exterior was a man with such incredible attention to detail, he didn’t miss a thing. He read her body as clearly as if she came with instructions. The sexual care of Sara Davies was in his competent hands.
As a Dominant, he placed her needs before his own. He was already expanding her horizons. Hopefully he could help her work through her triggers and conquer her fears.
When he told her to relax, she released the tension in her shoulders and exhaled a deep, cleansing breath. When he told her to push like she was voiding and press back against him, she did. Her body stretched to accommodate him, letting him in little by little, until he was buried to the root in her bottom.
He was right. With someone who knew what he was doing, it didn’t hurt—not enough to quit, anyway.
He stretched her out, testing her tender tissue with short forays, his heavy balls swinging against her pussy, his cock owning her ass.
“How are we?” he asked, dragging out and tunneling in again.
“Lime,” she grated. “Just go slow, please. You’re so big, it feels like you’re going to tear me when you start pumping.”
He pulled out most of the way, leaving only the first few inches inside her. Easing out and pushing back in, he stretched her out just enough that he could move like he needed to. She felt the shift in him. His balls drew up tight. His rhythm broke. Lunging upward, he buried himself in her ass and exploded inside her, pouring endless streams of cum into her depths and shuddering to a finish.
But he wasn’t done.
Grasping her shoulders, he pulled her to a kneeling position with his cock still inside her. Unhooking her bra, he flung it aside and claimed both breasts with his hands, clamping her nipples with his fingers and tormenting them. He slid one hand to her crotch and found her clit, rubbing, circling, and fanning it with his fingers. The familiar tension grew. When he pinched her nipple and bit the back of her neck like a stallion marking a mare, she stiffened and came hard enough that her juices drenched them both.
He made her climax again, an extended orgasm that seemed to last forever and left her barely able to kneel without his support.
“What did you do to me?” she asked in wonder.
He didn’t bother answering her. Instead, he eased them down to lie on their sides, pressed tightly together on the narrow surface. “You okay?”
“I think so.” Right now, she felt better than okay. For the first time in forever, she felt replete. Satisfied beyond her wildest dreams. Sore in places that she never imagined.
“You’ll want to visit the ladies’ room and get rid of what you can. It’s not as messy as coming in a pussy, but still.”
Sara felt her face turn crimson. “I’ll do that as soon as I can move,” she promised stiffly, thinking that this had to be the most uncomfortable post-coital conversation that she’d ever had.
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, sugar. What goes in, must come out. One way or another.”
“I know that. I just don’t like talking about it. I guess I’m a private person.”
“Where I fall more on the exhibitionist side of the spectrum, is that what you’re thinking? If so, that’s just proof that opposites attract.”
It certainly seemed true in their case. She was just another boring, God-fearing, church-going kindergarten teacher. She hated to think of the penance she was going to have to do for what they’d done.
Flynn was a hedonistic tattooed biker in a motorcycle club where everyone was into BDSM. She could only imagine what would happen if he were to show up at her school’s open house.
The sad thing was, he had more talent in his little finger than the art teacher at her high school, and no
one would bother looking past his cut. He’d be forever judged on his appearance, and that was just so very sad.
He had a sense of humor. He was both talented and unassuming. But was he boyfriend material?
He said he didn’t do relationships. That, she could believe. Why would he, when there was all that free pussy willing and available in the clubhouse lounge? She was going to have a hard time walking in there, looking at the sweetbutts, and wondering how many of them he’d slept with.
It was just sex, she told herself. This was just sex. The trouble was, she already wished it was more. She couldn’t explain this connection she felt with Flynn any more than she could deny it. The theory of soulmates had always seemed better for a plot device in a romance novel, but on a very deep level, she felt like she knew this man, beyond this time, beyond this space.
And that was making this no-strings non-relationship of theirs even harder to accept.
But she had no choice. Not if she wanted to be with Flynn, for however long it lasted.
He held her until his erection went soft. “Don’t move,” he warned. Letting his cock slip out, he edged away and eased himself to a stand. He opened the cabinets, ran water in the sink, and returned with warm, wet washcloths and fresh towels for them both.
He cleaned her first, leaving the washcloth tucked between her legs. “Are you good to stand? See if you can walk. I’ll help you across the hall if you need me to.”
She started to make a joke until she realized that he was serious. She was able to walk. Barely. Unconcerned with clothes where it was after hours, she shuffled to the ladies’ room and emptied what she could, rinsing the washcloth and using the other side to clean herself again.
Sara glanced in the mirror as she turned off the taps. She almost didn’t recognize herself. Her hair was a hot mess. Her lips were still pink and slightly swollen from the blowjob that she’d given him. Her nipples were hard—and not because of the temperature. Flynn McGee affected her like no man ever had. Just thinking about what he’d done…what she’d been willing to do…what he’d made her want to do…she was still struggling to process it all.
