by Onne Andrews
I rose and swiveled my hips in a figure eight. A muscle in his jaw twitched while I continued my sensual dance. With an animalistic growl, he palmed my ass, urging me faster.
I was more than happy to comply. The hard thrust of him intoxicated me. He spread my ass cheeks, plunging even deeper into me.
It had been too damn long. I had no control of my body. Instinct had taken over. My nails dug into his shirt and the flesh beneath it as my pussy convulsed around him. He swallowed my cries with a rough, demanding kiss.
His thighs stiffened beneath mine. A low groan vibrated through his body, and his cock pulsed in my pussy, setting off a series of aftershocks that left me limp.
But it was those piercing eyes that reduced me to a quivering mass. His look said unequivocally that he wasn’t done with me yet. Not by a long shot.
Chapter Two
Ian and I had straightened our clothing and were pulling on our jackets when the concierge returned with the hotel vouchers. She apologized profusely again, but I was anxious to leave. I wanted Ian’s hands on all of my bare skin the next time. And I wanted the next time to be now.
If I wanted sex, he must have wanted it more. I had to race-walk to keep up with his long strides down the airport corridors. In minutes, we were at the taxi pick-up.
He assisted me into the cab and gave the driver the hotel’s name. The car pulled out into the sparse traffic exiting the airport. Rain pounded the cab, and sheets of water sluiced down the windows, blurring the outside world. Our taxi and the rest of the vehicles skirted lakes of standing water as the rain came down faster than the sewers could cope.
Ian curled his arm around me and held me tight against the cold, wet night. Maybe it was the rhythm of the rain. Maybe it was the post-coital drowsiness that made me relax so much. Maybe it was my own naiveté assuming he’d behave in front of someone else.
When Ian slid his hand up my skirt, the sensation jolted me out of my stupor. I hadn’t bothered donning my panties and hose out of fear that it would take too much time, and I’d be caught by the airline’s concierge. Instead, I’d shoved them into the pocket of my suit jacket.
Which meant my pussy was naked under my skirt, and Ian knew it.
His fingers stroked my inner thighs, gently encouraging me to part them. Shameless, I spread my legs for him. He played with my flesh, still swollen and tender from our fuck at the airport.
Every once in a while, the driver glanced at us in the rearview mirror while he regaled us with tales of the golf ball-sized hail his wife reported coming down at their apartment building. I didn’t know if he could see what Ian was doing. Part of me wondered what the driver would do if Ian undid his trousers and took me right there in the back seat. Would he try to watch while driving? Would he pull over and turn around to get the full affect? Would he want to fuck me too?
What the hell was wrong with me? I wasn’t exactly a prude, but this exhibitionist streak scared me. So why didn’t I stop Ian?
Instead, I jerked my skirt up a bit more and eased my thighs further apart. He pressed two fingers inside. With easy strokes, he teased me until I was on the edge. Under the passing headlights, his expression dared me to stop him, to stop myself from coming. I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay silent if I did let go.
Why was I playing this dangerous game? I was forty-three, old enough to know better. Was I so lonely that I’d let a man I’d met only a couple of hours ago play with my pussy while we were in a taxi? Did I miss sex so much that I relished a stranger’s thumb on my clit?
My internal muscles squeezed his fingers. I couldn’t last much longer. I dug my nails into the cab’s upholstery in a desperate attempt to cling to whatever shreds of self-control I had left.
At the small wordless sound I made, Ian withdrew his hand and smoothed my skirt into place. The problem was I couldn’t be sure if I had tried to protest or encourage him.
Before I could think too much about my behavior, the taxi pulled under the covered portico of the hotel. Ian helped me from the backseat, then paid the driver.
I fished in my purse for my voucher.
Ian’s hand closed over mine. “Save it. We don’t need two rooms.”
My body shivered under his touch. I understood what he meant, but I hadn’t wanted to make any assumptions despite our encounter at the airport. Or the taxi. At the naked lust in his eyes, I shoved the voucher back into my purse.
The clerk said they didn’t have any regular rooms with king-sized beds available, but between the voucher and his membership in the hotel’s frequent guest program, Ian sweet-talked her into upgrading the room to a suite.
In less than five minutes, we stood in the elevator as it carried us to the top floor. As much as I wanted to touch him, wanted his hands on my body again, I was very aware of the security camera mounted in the corner of the car. The last thing I needed was a video of me doing naughty things uploaded to some amateur porn site.
That train of thought led me to questioning my own sanity. I’d turned an idle fantasy into reality. It wasn’t like me. Yet, I’d talked myself into breaking out of the rut I had been in for years.
I glanced up at him. For some strange reason, I trusted him. He could have been feeding me a line about raising two kids by himself, but the way he’d treated everyone from the airline concierge to the young hotel clerk said he was a decent man.
He had a wry smile on his face, a one-eighty from his self-assured manner through the evening.
“If you’re having second thoughts—” I started. I really didn’t want to hear that he did, but it was better to know now.
“What?” His smile faded. “No, are you?”
“No, it’s just that, well, you had an odd look on your face.” My cheeks warmed as I fumbled with the words.
He chuckled. “Actually, I’m feeling guilty. Like I’m in high school again and sneaking a girl up to my room.” He bent over until his lips were so close to my ear that his warm breath caressed my skin. “But then I picture the things I want to do to you, and I don’t feel like a high school kid at all.”
Liquid coated my inner thighs at his words. My breasts strained against the lace of my bra. I felt like I would shatter if I took a breath.
The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. His hand rested on the small of my back again as we walked down the hall, but this time, I didn’t feel the least bit protected. His touch encouraged me to throw the rest of my inhibitions to the wind.
Ian unlocked the door and ushered me inside. I flipped on the overhead light to reveal a well-appointed living room with a tiny kitchenette tucked in the corner.
He took my bag and set it and his on the desk to his left. Butterflies swarmed in my stomach. I wasn’t sure why, considering what we’d done in the airport and the taxi.
As if sensing my nervousness, he stepped closer. His lips brushed mine in a delicate almost-kiss. He drew back, watching me with those pale eyes. My tongue flicked over the spot on my lower lip where he’d touched me.
I realized I wasn’t nervous about having sex with him again. The question was whether his imagination matched mine. “So what kind of things were you thinking in the elevator?”
The tension in his shoulders eased. Maybe he’d been concerned I’d deny him, that I’d change my mind once we were inside the suite. “Take off your clothes for me.”
I reached into the pocket of my suit jacket and pulled out the wad of satin and nylon. “You sure this isn’t enough?”
A slight smile tilted the corners of his mouth. “I want to see the whole package.”
I never had someone watch me undress like this before. For my ex, disrobing was a preliminary to rush through before the main event. Instead of a means-to-the-end, Ian watched me as if this was something spectacular he’d waited for all his life.
For once, I wasn’t self-conscious. My whole being locked on Ian. Never before had I been so aware of each movement I made, each tiny gesture. The rasp of my jacket’s lining as it slid down the
cotton sleeves of my blouse. The smooth texture of the acrylic buttons at my wrists. The coolness of my skirt’s material against my skin when I tugged the shirttail from the waistband.
His attention followed as I slowly undid each button. His undivided interest made me feel feminine. Powerful.
I tugged the material off my shoulders and let gravity do the rest. My shirt fluttered against my calves before it puddled on the carpet.
Ian’s breath quickened, but he made no move to touch me. I reached behind me for the clasp of my bra.
“No. Your skirt first.”
I hesitated for a second. Maybe it was the baseball metaphor for sex. It didn’t seem right to round third base before second. I chuckled when I realized how silly I was being. Bases were irrelevant in this game since we’d hit home long before third anyway.
“What’s so funny?” Ian looked sincerely interested, not worried or offended.
I pulled down the zipper on my skirt. “I think we’re playing America’s greatest pastime backward.” I released the waistband, and my skirt slithered down my legs. Cool air tickled my pussy.
He grinned. “Maybe I’m tired of playing by the rules.”
So I wasn’t the only one stuck in a rut. I relaxed a bit at the realization.
He stepped closer and reached behind me. With a soft snap, my breasts were free. He drew the straps down my shoulders and eased back to take in the effect.
His gaze swept down the length of my body, and I shivered at the desire he emanated.
“Turn around,” he murmured. Once again, I paused. I wanted, no, I needed him as naked as I was. My lips parted, and he laid his index finger across them. “Trust me.”
I pivoted and waited. So many things ran through my mind. Would he kiss my neck? Would he ever touch my breasts? Would he simply unzip his trousers and take me from behind?
He did none of those things. Carefully, oh, so carefully, he removed the pins that held my French twist in place. My hair tumbled to my shoulders, and he ran his fingers through my locks. “I’ve been wanting to do that from the first moment I saw you,” he whispered in my ear.
I don’t know what he did with my pins, but his hands cupped my swollen breasts. He pressed me against his hard chest. I reveled in his touch as he caressed the delicate skin and plucked my erect nipples.
I was already wet from our earlier play, but there seemed to be a live electrical wire connecting his hands to my pussy. Every pinch and roll of his fingers shot raw sensation through that line. The press of his erection against my ass added to the demands of my body.
“Please,” I whispered. “I need you.”
“You need me to do what, Lacy?” He drew out my name, making it sound sensual. Wanton. Which was exactly how I felt. His right hand left my breast and slid down my belly before teasing my damp curls.
“I need you inside me.”
His chuckle vibrated against my temple. “That’s not what you really want to say, is it? Tell me what you want me to do to you.”
“I-I—” I couldn’t think anymore. His fingers stroked my slit and toyed with my clit.
“Tell me.” His voice was hoarse with his own desire. His hard cock pressed against my crevice, straining against the cloth that imprisoned it. “Tell me or I stop.” To prove his point, he halted the delicious torture of my pussy.
“I need you to fuck me.” My voice was so soft it barely qualified as a whisper.
“Say it like you mean it.”
I whirled to face him. “I want you to fuck me. Fuck me so hard that I forget my name.”
Lust shone in his eyes, raw and unadulterated. He grabbed the back of my neck and yanked me to him. His kiss was brutal, dominating, and I lost myself in it.
He shed his suit coat, and I clawed at the buttons of his dress shirt, desperate to get the interfering material out of the way. Yet, somehow, we managed never to stop kissing as we made our way to the bed.
His clothing flew in all directions. His cock twitched against my stomach, eager, hungry.
Reluctantly, I tore my mouth from his. “Condom.”
His fingers dug into my shoulders. For a brief instant, I thought he’d disregard my warning. That he’d pin me down and fuck me without protection. But in the end, common sense won. He released me and stalked back to his suit coat lying on the floor near the bedroom door.
For the first time, I got a good look at him. His ass was as tight and fine as his trousers had hinted. His broad shoulders tapered into the long, lean muscle of a runner or a swimmer. He definitely hadn’t let himself develop a pudge like so many men in our age range.
When he returned, he tossed all of the condoms but one on the nightstand.
He shoved the single foil package into my hand. “On your knees.”
If any other man in my life had said those words, I would have told him where to go and what he could do with himself when he got there. But the way Ian said the words was sexy, compelling, and made me feel oh-so-wicked.
I knelt before him, his cock level with my mouth and tempting. Very tempting. It was dangerous taking a complete stranger, naked, between my lips. Even though I’d been the one to remind him about protection, I found I didn’t care at this point. I wanted to taste him so bad I couldn’t stop myself.
My tongue swiped the drop of pre-come and sucked on the tip. He tasted of seawater. Tampa’s white sand beaches. Clean sunshine despite the dimness of the hotel suite in the middle of a thunderstorm at night.
I inhaled his scent as I ran my tongue down the sensitive underside of his cock. The freshness of the ocean filled my head. I lavished the same attention on him that he had on my pussy in the cab.
His fingers threaded through my hair. His firm grip didn’t hurt, nor did he try to guide my motions. It was almost as if holding me was the only way for him to stay upright while I molded my lips down his shaft to the root.
“Lacy.” He drew out my name into a low moan.
I ignored him. Instead, I sucked and licked. His sac pulled tight against his body. He was so damn close, and I wanted to swallow all of him.
“Lacy.” This time he did yank on my hair.
A whimper escaped from me as his cock escaped from my lips. From the dresser mirror behind him, I could see he had the length of my locks wrapped around one fist.
“Condom,” he ordered.
His commands, his dominating attitude, shouldn’t be turning me on. Yet, my nipples were so tight they hurt. My own juices trickled down my inner thighs. I ripped the packet open and rolled the latex over his cock.
“Up.” A slight tug on my scalp brought me to my feet. Ian spun me around and pushed me face-first onto the mattress, my ass in the air. I tried to rise, but with his hold on my hair, I was pinned unless I wanted to lose a large hank.
Part of me thought I should have fought him, but I didn’t want to. What I wanted was to be impaled with that magnificent cock.
Which is exactly what he did. No ease. No delay. He rammed into my pussy. Hard. Deep. I was so wet though, it was a relief. He yanked on my hair to keep me in position. And everything felt so damn marvelous I cried out.
The next stroke of his cock was more gentle though he retained a firm grip on my tresses. He must have thought he’d been too rough with me.
“No. Harder. Please fuck me harder.” The words were out of my mouth before I consciously thought them. Here was a man who knew what he wanted. And to my shock, I wanted the same thing. I wanted him to use me, use my body, until neither of us could stand up straight.
He laughed, a deliciously wicked rumble, but he obliged, pumping into my pussy like everything in the world depended on him filling me. In his roughness, I could feel the gathering threads of my impending orgasm.
No, it was more than that. I relished Ian treating me like his personal slut. Touching me while we were in places where we might be caught. The thrill of doing forbidden things with a stranger.
Except maybe he wasn’t such a stranger. He knew what I needed more
than any other lover. More than I did myself.
My knees and arms shook. Then every cell exploded. Someone screamed, an alien howl I’d never heard before. It took a second to realize the sound came from my own throat.
I barely heard his growl, but the throb of his cock was unmistakable. Only the harsh sound of our breathing filled the room.
Slowly, so very slowly, he pulled out of me. “Climb in bed. I’ll be right back.” Intellectually, I knew he needed to dispose of the condom, but I missed the heat of him.
Already, my thigh muscles were tight and my biceps ached. I’m really going to be paying for this in the morning.
I’d barely settled under the sheet when Ian returned. He strode out to the sitting room and turned off the light. Then his warm, hard muscles curled around me.
I’d always found it difficult to sleep touching another person. Something about Ian made cuddling comfortable. Even though this was supposed to be a fling, I found myself feeling very protected.
* * *
“Lacy?” The husky male voice cut through layers of sleep.
It took me a minute to remember where I was. Atlanta. Hotel. Sexy man in my bed. “Yeah.”
“I need you. Spread your legs for me.” Even through my drowsiness, my pussy dampened at the seductive request. Or maybe it was the hand stroking my slit.
I managed to toss the sheet off my body and obey his request. I couldn’t say no.
A dark shadow knelt between my parted thighs. The tip of his erection rubbed along my pussy. “God, you are so hot and wet. I can’t stop myself.”
“Who said I wanted you to?” I murmured.
He entered me. Not the rough taking of before, but an easy rhythm designed to make the event last as long as possible.
I wrapped my legs around his waist before I drew him closer for a long, lingering kiss. When we parted, I whispered, “Why are you taking this so slow?”
His mouth trailed along my jaw line before he nibbled on my ear. “I don’t think I can get enough of you. I want to be inside you as long as possible.”
In my half-asleep state, I didn’t feel up to arguing. Instead, I squeezed my internal muscles in not-so-subtle encouragement.
