His Secret Desire (Atlanta Nights)

by Linda Verji

  His lips claimed her in a slow seductive kiss.

  His kiss was an explosion of delectable temptation. His taste; irresistibly sweet and masculine seduced her tongue, urged her to take more. Each suckle of his mouth in time to his caress of her breast only pulled her closer to the precipice of something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

  Her body responded like a lit firework. Her senses flared, her muscles tightened and her lower body began to contract in tiny pulses of lust. Uttering a low groan that he promptly swallowed, she cupped her hand over the back of his head and deepened the kiss, begging for more. Marcel was all too willing to oblige. He moved his hand to her other breast, molding it and giving it the same loving attention.

  It wasn’t enough for her. She needed more.

  Olivia reached for the buttons of his checkered shirt, quickly easing three aside so she could touch him. Marcel was all hard muscles and silky smooth skin. She ran her palm over his chest in time to the measured play of his tongue within her mouth.

  Her touch had an unexpected, but very welcome effect. Marcel’s kiss morphed into something more intense, violent even. His lips hardened over hers and the motions of his tongue became frantic as he crowded closer to her. It was almost as if he was trying to inhale her. She sucked in a ragged breath when his hand constricted over her breasts, enjoying every minute of it.

  She sighed in disappointment when his hands left her breast, but the brief respite was only so he could lower the back of her dress. He placed kisses along the side of her neck as he slowly peeled the thick straps of her dress down her arms. Carefully, he lowered her dress to her waist, unwrapping her as if she were a gift specially meant for him. He stopped the delicious kisses, lowering his gaze to the bounty he’d revealed.

  The kitchen’s chilly air brushed against her exposed flesh but was quickly vanquished by Marcel’s hooded, heated gaze. Even though she was still hidden from his gaze by her lacy pink bra, her breasts tingled at his intense stare. Each passing second of his mesmerizing observation was like being spiked by spears laced with lust.

  Her breath caught in her throat and her chest expanded as she waited for him to do something, anything. She whimpered, “Marcel.”

  “Mm?” He lifted his gaze to meet hers. The unbanked desire in his dark eyes breath-stealing. Running a finger along the strap of her bra and leaving tingles where he touched, he murmured, “You still haven’t told me what’s in the chicken alfredo?”

  Really? He wanted to talk about poultry right now? When she was on the verge of combusting in her own skin? She pleaded, “Touch me.”

  He ran his finger over the edge of her bra cup scorching her skin with his touch. “Not until you tell me what’s in it.”

  Screw it. She wanted him too badly to refuse to answer. “Chicken, cheese and - Aaah-” Her breath caught in her throat when his finger glanced over her quivering nipple. “-uh… uh… and bac… bacon.”

  “Sounds delicious.” He covered her aching breast with his large hand and squeezed. She whimpered and her fingers dug harder into his forearm. “Is it as delicious as this?” With one quick movement, he fit his hand beneath the lacy fabric, pushing it above her breasts and cupped her bare flesh.

  “Shiiit,” she gasped. Definitely that delicious! Definitely. Her breath rough, she leaned her forehead against his shoulder. “It’s better.”

  “Better than this, huh?” Marcel scraped a finger over her nipple before lightly circling the aching crest in sweet, tormenting movements.

  Hell no! There was no food sweeter than what he was doing to her? Her body responded to him with a staggering force. Her brain went blank as the entirety of her being focused on the delicious zings sweeping through her body courtesy of his touch. She was hot, moist and willing to let him do anything he wished.

  His touch was so intoxicating she barely noticed him use his free hand to unclasp her bra. When he eased slightly away from her, she whimpered. Covering her mouth with his, he captured that whimper of protest in a sweltering kiss that changed it into a moan of need. By the time he tossed her bra to the floor then shoved her dress down her legs, she was ablaze with need for him.

  With quick lift, he set her on the island. It’s cold granite surface bit into her skin. but all thoughts of cold were quickly dispelled when Marcel stepped between her spread thighs. Olivia’s hands flew to his broad shoulders as she crossed her legs behind him, dragging him closer for a hungry, demanding kiss. She pressed her swollen breasts to the hard planes of his chest.

  The pleasure was so intense she whimpered, “Mm.”

  But she wanted more. Frantic with the need to feel his skin against hers, she grabbed his shirt. The sound of tearing fabric and buttons cluttering to the linoleum floor rent the air.

  “Easy, sweetheart,” Marcel soothed even as he let her shove the shirt from his arms. Within seconds his top half was as naked as hers, his copper brown muscles gleaming and luring her towards him. They moved together with the ease of long-time lovers. His arms around her waist, hers around his shoulders and her breasts flattened against his chest.

  “Aah,” they both moaned at the delicious sensations. Her nipples brushed against his sending desire sharper than the point of a needle surging through her. Oh, it felt good. But there was still that irritating matter of his jeans scraping against her inner thighs. She reached between them for his belt.

  Before she could unbelt him, Marcel grabbed her wrists and carried her hands back to his shoulders. “Not yet.”

  She wanted to protest. Her lips even parted to tell him that she wanted him right now. He didn’t give her a chance. Her ‘please’ got lost in a sharp gasp when without warning he bent his head and caught her nipple in his mouth.

  “Oooh.” The shocked cry tore past her throat, her thighs tightened around his flanks and her back arched. Tension coiled deep inside her with each agonizing suction of his mouth on one taut bud then on the other.

  “Marcel, aaah,” she moaned his name on a breathless gasp as he scraped his teeth across each nipple. While his mouth tortured one breast, his hand teased the other drawing more agonized gasps from her. Her womb squeezed and contracted to his rhythmic sucking and caressing.

  His mouth still on her overheated breast, he lowered his hands to her waist. The moment he touched the sides of her lacy panties she lifted slightly, supporting her weight with her palms on the counter and her thighs around his flanks. Without ever releasing her breast, he rolled the flimsy fabric down her thighs and let it fall to the floor.

  The first touch of his hand was like being prodded with a taser.

  “Fuuuck.” She lifted off the counter in shocked pleasure. Heat, searing heat, zapped through her with indescribable strength.

  Lord, this man’s hands!

  On her lips, spreading her fluid, tweaking her clit. “Oh, oh, oh.”

  He didn’t even need to insert a finger in. Within seconds, he had her sex pulsing, vibrating and leaking like fountain. Olivia arched backwards, set her heels on the counter and pressed her palm to the granite top as she sung, “Right, there. Yes, yes, yes… oooh.”

  Closing her eyes, she spread her legs so he could have more space to touch. And man, could he touch. Flicking, pinching, stroking; he had her raising her hips and whimpering, “Ah, yes. Ah, ah…” Her lips parted in a silent scream when he deftly moved his mouth from her breast and straight there.

  “Oh, yes.” Her thighs fell open helplessly allowing him to place tender kisses on her feminine flesh.

  “I bet that chicken doesn’t taste as good as you do.” Marcel’s hot breath whispered over her mound before he stuck his tongue out, parted her lips and traced a scorching path between her moist, throbbing lips.

  “Oh… oh… oh… fuuuck… oh, my… ooooh.” Her breath rougher than that of a marathon runner, she cupped the back of his head, encouraging him to do more. And more he did. The smooth pad of his tongue bathed her swollen clit, flicked it, circled it. Each touch drove her further into lust and
closer to rapture.

  The tension coiled inside her like a snake; bit at her already thread-thin control and shattered it. Trembling, she squirted her release into his tongue. He lapped it up like it was the most delicious honey. As if he couldn’t get enough, he hooked her legs over his shoulder, gripped her ass and set his mouth harder over her.

  “Yessss,” she moaned loudly when he found her clit again. What the hell was he doing to her? Her blood stilled in its tracks, her muscles tensed and her eyes snapped open when he sucked that swollen nub between his lips. “Oooh… Marce… aaah… o-o-o-o-o-h.” Her broken cries echoed in the large kitchen mingling with the lapping sounds of his torture.

  There was no end to Marcel’s torment. Squeezing her buttocks rhythmically to the pulse of his errant tongue, he set out to destroy her control. Each expert stroke of his tongue sent sensation whirling madly within her. She shook and quivered, completely enraptured by the spell he’d cast with his hands and mouth, and malleable to his every edict. Even when he set her heels back on the counter, she willingly widened her thighs for him. A sharp gasp escaped her when he used his fingers to pull her folds apart.

  Needing to see what he was doing, she pried open her eyes. If she had her senses about her, she would’ve been embarrassed by her wanton posture; seated on the counter naked, her heels on its granite top, her thighs spread wide, and Marcel right between them staring at her glistening sex like it was his next meals.

  “So beautiful.” His heated words seared her before he set his tongue back to work. She was even more open to the slick strokes of his tongue now. After one quick lap along the whole valley, he stuck his tongue into her.

  Everything in her began to tremble; her thighs; the hand she had on his head, her lips, her toes even the baby hairs on her head. Her whole body focused on that errant tongue; inside her, fucking her.

  In slow probing strokes he worked her back to the edge of irrationality.

  But it was when he replaced his tongue with his thick, middle finger that she really shattered. Her needy walls clasped around the digit as if it was a small cock, swallowed it up. All the blood left her brain when he curled that finger and found her g-spot. And when he started vibrating it in small sharp movements, she collapsed backwards to her elbows.

  “Oh, oh, oh…” It was too much. She didn’t realize that she was crying until she tasted the salt of her tears when she licked her lips. But she didn’t care. How could she not cry? She’d experienced pleasure before, but this… this was beyond anything she’d ever felt. Razor sharp shards of sensation pricked at her senses and splintered them until she couldn’t even remember her name.

  Her peak, when she reached it, was brilliant, like tasting nirvana. The fireworks exploded behind her closed eyes as her juices gushed out unchecked to coat Marcel’s finger. Her release was an endless thread being pulled by his unrelenting, wicked, delightful torture. Where one orgasm ended, another began until spasms after spasm racked her.

  When it was over her lips curled into a relieved smile as her body descended back to earth. Taking deep gulps of air to ease her still cluttered senses, she luxuriated in the dreamy, lazy haze that seemed to have taken over her satiated body. It was cut short by something heavy tapping on her clit.

  She pried open her eyes only to find Marcel watching her with his impossibly large dick in hand and an almost pained expression on his face. When had he undressed? When had he strapped up? Hell, who cared? All that mattered was that he’d given her the most fantastic orgasm - orgasms - and he deserved a reward.

  “Come here,” Olivia said as she lifted back to sitting position, hooked her arm around his shoulder and went straight for his cock.

  “Livy,” Marcel groaned when her small hand surrounded his fat, long length. Steely hard and warm, his sheathed flesh pulsed in her palm needily.

  “You’re so big,” she murmured as she ran her hand from its base to tip then back down again.

  “You like?” he gritted through rough breaths even as his eyes gaze on her hand.

  “Uh huh.” She nodded. It was ludicrous that she’d ever been afraid of him. She could still remember the amazing pressure of his thick rod pushing into her the first time, and she couldn’t wait to have him inside her again. When she teased the crest of him with her fingers, he grunted and his fingers dug into her thighs.

  She stroked downwards again but before she could reach the base of his cock, he grabbed her wrist. When her gaze snapped upwards, it was to find his eyes shadowed and his brow furrowed with unrestrained desire. Drawing both her hands to his shoulders, he said, “Livy, no teasing. I need in.”

  “Okay.” She cupped his neck and lowered her gaze between them.

  His cock was hard, menacing and poised to pierce her. Instead of getting what he needed right then, Marcel set his fingers to her pussy. She was already moist from his previous activities but apparently that was not enough for him. Soon he had her squirming on the counter again and whimpering as sticky wetness dribbled from her to soak his fingers.

  She finally had to beg, “Marcel, fuck me.”

  “With pleasure.” He stepped forward and, using the broad crest of his cock, parted her. They watched as she stretched around the mushroom tip with his slow movements forward. Her eyes widened at the rigid pressure of his penetration, but her gaze stayed riveted on their lower bodies. Nothing could’ve pulled her away from the erotic sight of their bodies merging.

  “Look at that,” he growled as, with control she didn’t think any man possessed, he filled her slowly and relentlessly. His crest disappeared within her with a pop that had her sucking in a sharp gasp of air and her eyes flying to his face. His features were a harsh mask of ardor and his attention rapt on the task at hand. Impaling her.

  Pleasure mixed in with pain. His hard grip on her ass was almost painful, but it was nothing compared to the sensation of him invading her.

  So long.

  So thick.

  So good.

  His thick rod brushed against the nerves along her walls sending slivers of thrill through her whole body. His breathing was uneven as hers as he fed more and more of his fat shaft into her until she was quite sure she couldn’t take anymore. But Marcel wasn’t done with her. Not until she took everything he had to give. Gripping her thighs, he pulled her closer to the edge of the counter so he could go deeper.

  Deeper. Deeper. Deeper.

  “Aaaaah.” The base of his cock met her pussy to their groans of relief and pleasure. Their lips met in a soft, intimate kiss of celebration. Olivia relaxed into the gentle suckling movement of his lips over hers and the smooth sweep of his tongue within her mouth. Slowly her flesh acclimated to the heavy shaft pulsing within it. Her walls relaxed around him, welcomed him.

  And that’s when he started to fuck her.

  CHAPTER 23

  Marcel was sure he’d lost his mind.

  There was no possible way making love to a woman could feel this good. Her pussy gripped him so hard, he had to clench all his muscles to keep the pleasure bubbling inside him from exploding too early. Each long, hard stroke into her was like tasting a piece of heaven. Sweet, exhilarating and it left him aching for more.

  “Ugh,” he groaned as he pistoned deep into her velvety warmth. Her walls sucked him right into their tight ring, massaging and begging him not to leave.

  He needed to see this. Tearing his lips from hers, he met her eyes. She was a feast for the senses. Her eyes closed with unrestrained passion, her lush lips swollen from his kisses and her caramel skin shiny with perspiration.

  Then there was her pussy.

  “Livy,” he groaned as he took her in. Coated in a thin film of moisture and wrapped around his cock like a hungry mouth, her sex was enough to drive a man to madness.

  And it did.

  His mind raged, insane with lust. He withdrew his cock almost completely from her tight cavern. Then he slammed in. Hard.

  “Oooh,” Olivia screamed as her nails raked across his shoulder.
The sound was music to his ears, rousing him to fever pitch. He pulled out of her slowly then grabbed her ankle to widen her for his invasion. This time his thrust was even longer, harder, deeper. Slam. It felt like he’d touched her cervix.

  “Marcel,” she cried out, her muscles spasming around him.

  He wanted more of her passionate screams. He wanted to fuck her so hard she forgot everything but his name. Long, sure and hard, he pushed in and out of her. When that wasn’t enough he centered his body between her thighs, urging her to wrap her toned legs around him and arms around his shoulder. His head buried in the crook of her shoulder, his arm tight across her back and his grip on her ass firm, he plunged in harder.

  “Yes, yes, yes.” Her embrace was as greedy as pussy. She clung to him, set him aflame and stoked the fire with her moans and whimpers. The fire scorched him, heated his blood with each stroke into her and unleashed the animal in him. There was no more control in him. All he wanted to do was bury himself inside her and never come out.

  “Deeper, right, there,” she encouraged his loss of control. Her hands lowered to his ass, gripping, pushing him harder into her. “Yes, yes, yes. Oh, there. Shiiiiiit.”

  Her shrieks merged with the sucking sounds of their fucking, driving him closer and closer to the edge. His whole body tingled, tensed. Every ounce of blood rushed to his cock as he pumped into her like a drill machine. The moment she started bucking and shaking and her muscles started contracted around his cock, it was a wrap for him.

  He exploded in an orgasm so intense, so white-hot and shattering, it was a wonder he didn’t rip through the condom. He held himself tight inside her, shuddering with each wave of ecstasy. Her cries as she convulsed in release fused with his own groans. It was a long while before he could lift his head from her shoulder, let alone carry her to his bedroom.

  Later as they lay in bed he had to question if there was any woman who’d ever driven him to quite this kind of madness. No, he didn’t think so. Olivia was a special kind of woman. A woman who matched him to a t; from how she fit him, her libido, her wit, her personality. It all combined to make her completely irresistible. How he’d managed to resist her for so long was beyond him.