by Lisa Wells
The final item was a vibrator that looked like a tube of lipstick.
Kinley wanted to lay back and try them all. Of course she wouldn’t. Not in Ian’s hotel room. He could come back any moment and catch her with her panties down around her ankles. Um, literally.
She stuffed everything back in her purse and pulled out her comb.
She should stick with her plan. Do her hair, get dressed. Leave the room for a while. She was too wound up to sleep. Too depressed to write. But if she went downstairs, she’d probably run into Ian. “Ugh.”
She glanced at her boxes of sex toys peeking out of the top of her purse. A quick orgasm would help her relax.
She glanced at the clock. He’d be gone at least an hour. She could gift herself with thirty minutes.
She stood up and padded to the door to make sure Ian wasn’t there. He wasn’t. The lights were off. She slipped off her panties—started to bring them back to bed with her—but out of orneriness, hung them on the doorknob outside the bedroom.
She crawled back into bed, lying on the cool sheets. She slipped her headphones on and turned on her favorite music to write love scenes to. Then she picked up the We-Vibe 4.
Reclining on the pillows, she closed her eyes. She tried to call up her normal go-to fantasy. But his face wasn’t forming. Instead it was Ian’s face she saw. His sexy blue eyes. His hand slapping her bare bottom.
She squirmed. Turned on the vibrator with the remote.
The music played. She slipped the vibrator in.
The steady tap, tap, tap rhythm of the vibrator against her clitoris caused her to squirm. She adjusted it so the vibrator was directly on her happy spot. Then, using the remote, she flipped through the different speeds and intensity.
Her breath caught in her throat when she found a speed that suited her. She laid the remote down and kneaded her breast with one hand while gripping the sheets with her other.
“Ian. Oh God, that feels so great,” she whispered into the darkness. She imagined Ian there with her. Imagined him telling her she was being naughty and would have to be punished. She groaned.
“I’ll be good, I promise,” she whispered. “Don’t spank me.”
She raised her hips off the bed. The intense buildup edged her toward the cliff, where she would step off and tumble into a mind-numbing oblivion of sexual satisfaction.
“I’ve been very, very naughty.”
She let her legs fall open. “Are you going to spank me?” She imagined Ian’s palm landing on her ass. “You should spank me harder. I’ve been so…so…wicked.” She wiggled, cried out, gasped as her imagination took her down the path.
“Stop. Ian. Please. I promise I won’t—”
The weight of the bed dipped.
Kinley stilled. A fluttery sensation swept through her. She brought her knees back together.
She inhaled deeply and smelled a springtime thunderstorm. Did her imagination have the ability to conjure up scents? Or was Ian watching her masturbate?
God, this was her worst nightmare/best fantasy rolled into one.
It was only her imagination, her nervousness that would make her think he’d come back. She took a deep breath and focused on the sensations. Only moment’s ago, she’d been so close… Her legs parted slightly. She wiggled her hips to get the vibrator just right.
Did watching her turn him on? Would he join her? Would he think she was being very, very naughty? Would he… She squirmed. Her breathing quickened.
Who was she kidding? He was in the room with her. She could feel his presence. And she liked it.
She reached for the cord of her earbuds and muted the music. “You can watch, but you can’t touch.” She didn’t open her eyes. Her voice sounded breathy.
She heard his harsh inhale.
The speed of the vibrations slowed. Ian had the remote.
She groaned. Shook her head from side to side. “Faster. I need faster.”
She felt the warmth of his hand on her cheek. He slid it softly across and removed her ear buds.
“Open your eyes.” He spoke in a tone filled with awe and desire.
She shook her head. She liked the fantasy. If she looked into his eyes, she’d have to remember. Remember things she didn’t want to remember. Feel emotions she didn’t want to feel.
“Open them, or I’m going to spank you.” His voice rang with command. Total male dominance. A tone she should rebel against—yet didn’t.
She couldn’t because she was torn between wanting to tell him never to touch her again and wanting his hands all over her body—in every possible way. Her carnal desires won the battle of wills. “Have I been naughty?”
He didn’t respond.
Slowly she opened her eyes. It took a moment for them to adjust to the darkness. When they did, she saw him sitting on the bed, naked, his cock in one hand, her panties in the other.
“This is what you do to me,” he said, stroking his member—his very, very large member—with her abandoned panties.
“Oh my.” Her gaze tilted up to meet his.
Slowly and seductively, his gaze travelled down her body. “You’ve been a very bad girl.”
She removed the vibrator. A dizzying current raced through her. She stroked herself with shaky fingers. “This is what you do to me.” She closed her eyes and stroked harder. Her hips bucked as the orgasm she wanted so badly teased her with its proximity but wouldn’t happen.
The weight on the bed shifted again.
Ian was above her. His eyes were heavy with desire. “You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever known.”
Kinley resisted an urge to cover her size ten curves with her hands. Of course, he was lying, but it was a beautiful lie. “I doubt that.”
His mouth came down on hers. “Trust me on this.” He groaned the words against her mouth with such rawness she couldn’t help but believe him. Her tongue came out to lick her lips.
He took this as an invitation and his tongue thrust in her mouth, taking far more from her than any man ever had.
…
Ian couldn’t get enough of her. He wanted to learn all of her curves and tastes. When he teased the corners of her lips, she gasped in pleasure. He traced her lips again and again. The satisfaction of giving her bliss was a heady experience. Every woman that had come before Kin now seemed ordinary. A way to pass the years until she grew up and could be his…Or at least his for tonight.
Then she was kissing him back, nipping at his bottom lip, and he forgot to think.
He held her arms above her head with one hand so he could run kisses from her temple, over her scar, across her cheek, and along the edge of her perfect jaw.
She moaned and struggled against the hand holding her.
He ran his tongue down the elegant line of her neck.
Her back arched, pressing her nipples against his chest, enticing him to hurry.
He’d waited ten years for this moment. There was no way he was going to do anything but take his time. He dipped and stroked the hollow of her collarbone with his tongue, drowning in the little noises of pleasure she made.
“Leave your hands above your head.” He released her hands and moved down so his lusting mouth could freely roam over the swell of her beautiful breasts. They were full and peach and begging for his attention. They were perfect. Not too large and not too small. The size a man covets.
A soft hiss coming from Kinley encouraged him to continue with his exploration.
He sucked one taut peak between his lips and bit before laving it with his tongue. He felt her shudder, so he moved to the other to do the same, enjoying her warm, soft flesh as he worried it with his tongue and teeth.
She trembled. The tiny sounds escaping her grew louder.
Ian had imagined this moment many times. Imagined the different ways in which he would claim her for the first time. Slow sex on a beach after he playfully removed that tiny red bikini of hers. Fast sex in a public setting after they’d accidentally bumped into each other in a restau
rant and realized they couldn’t wait any longer. Rough sex up against a wall, after she’d admitted she’d been wrong to hold him at arm’s length for so many years.
But in his fantasies, he’d always been in control. He’d never imagined that when the moment came, he’d feel such an urgency, such a timeworn need to brand her as his.
But when he walked into the bedroom tonight and saw her, saw what she was doing, he’d lost it.
All of his plans evaporated in the face of his need to claim her.
He slowly slid his hand lower. Down past her ribs to grip the curve of her hip. His erection grew even larger as he slid his hand between her thighs.
She surprised him when she squeezed her legs together, capturing his hand. Was she having second thoughts?
He gently opened her legs. “Don’t stop me,” he murmured. “I just want to touch you.” The shakiness in his voice further proof of how off-balance with need he was. “You’re so hot.”
“Not…stopping you.” She bowed her back and opened her legs.
He slid a finger and then two inside. “And wet.”
She whimpered and lifted her hips off the bed.
He smiled, moved lower, and positioned himself between her legs.
She stilled. “What are you doing?”
“Let me taste you.” This was his ultimate fantasy. The one that kept him awake at night. The one he’d been clinging to for years, in the hope someday it might come true.
“Don’t you just want to come up here?” she asked hesitantly.
“Oh, I’m exactly where I want to be at the moment, babe.”
Her hands came down and tangled in his hair. Not above her head where he’d told her to keep them. Kinley Foster never had been a rule follower. At the moment, he could care less.
She mumbled something incoherent. He thought he picked out the word okay.
Was he the first guy to go down on her? What kind of idiot lovers had she been with? No wonder she couldn’t write sex.
Yet the thought that he was the first to teach her about oral sex pleased him intensely.
A desire to tell her that, and to tell her he was about to live out one of his fantasies shuddered through him. But speaking took time, and he was anxious for the fantasy. He touched her with his tongue in one long, slow, upward stroke.
“Oh…oh…OH.”
Her reaction impaled him with hunger. He licked her again.
Her hips bucked. Dear God, he was in heaven.
He swirled his tongue along her inner lips and then flicked, and circled, gauging her reaction by her breathing and the grip on his hair. When he began suckling, she squirmed and cursed and said, “Stop. Please. Not yet.”
He hissed out a breath. The edge in her voice matched the edge he was unsecurely hanging on to by his nails. “I want to tie you up and fuck you. And then flip you over and do it again.”
She sat up on her elbows. “Then come up here and do it.”
He laughed. “Give me time, Kin, right now I’m in heaven right where I’m at.”
“Are you sure?”
“Hell yes.” To emphasize how sure he was, he penetrated her with his tongue. Her pink flesh was so wet for him.
She keened. Fell back into the mattress.
Her admittance pleased him beyond reason. He rubbed her with his thumb as his tongue had his way with her in all the ways he’d been dreaming about for years.
Her nails dug into his shoulders as she wiggled her hips, guiding him in the direction of what pleased her the most. He didn’t relinquish his pursuit until her sex pulsed against his tongue.
She inhaled sharply. “Yes…God…please. Oh my God…that was…oh my God, that was fabulous.”
His male pride roared. That’s only the beginning, babe. Only the beginning. “It gets better,” he told her, kissing his way back up her torso, spending a considerable amount of time on the soft swell of her stomach. Enjoying the light perfume of sex in the air and the rosy glow of a blush on her skin.
“Come up here,” she demanded in a sex-drugged voice.
He chuckled and grabbed the condom he’d laid on the bed after he came back to their room and found her masturbating, calling out his name, her panties hanging on the door like an invitation.
She took the foil package from him. Tore the wrapper open and rolled the rubber down his length.
He jumped and nearly came just feeling her hands touching him.
She laughed like a siren and lightly wrapped the long length of her sexy legs around his waist. “Talk is cheap. Make me feel that again.”
“Demanding wench.” He ran little biting kisses over her shoulder. He had every intention of taking her back over that edge again. Just not yet. There were so many—
She leaned her head back and rose to push her naked mound against his erection, causing his brain to malfunction. “I’m all yours,” she husked.
He raked in a breath as desire ran rampant through him, savaging his ability to do anything but feel. He could no longer resist what she was offering. He succumbed to her charms. “Damn straight you are.”
Her hands circled around his back, and she closed her eyes. “Yep.”
“Open your eyes,” he ordered. He wanted to see her expression. Wanted her thinking of him when he went in deep. Wanted to scorch her brain with the visual memory of this moment.
For once in her life, she obeyed without arguing.
Their lips connected right as he thrust in. He groaned in pleasure at how tightly she sheathed him. Ten years of thinking of this moment washed through him. Nothing he’d imagined compared to how good it actually felt to be inside of Kin. He stilled to enjoy the moment. The sensation.
She pulled back slightly. “I can’t keep them open.” Her eyes fluttered shut.
He wanted to insist, but she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen with her eyes closed, her hair tangled across the pillow, her lips slightly parted and swollen from his kisses.
He leaned down and kissed her scar before giving over to his need to fuck Kinley Foster senseless.
They rocked together. Soft curves against hard muscles. Kin taking as much as she gave. Her hands at times roaming, at others clutching, her nails digging in and then travelling—no doubt leaving marks in their wake. His hands just as frantically explored her curves.
When her fingers dove into his hair, and he felt her inner muscles tighten down over him, he pumped harder, reaching between them and thumbing her clitoris. “Come, baby. I’ve waited ten years to hear you scream my name while I’m inside you.”
She bucked hard against him and then went rigid. “Ian.” He drank in the sound of his name on her lips, and the pleasure on her face as she rode out her orgasm. He wished he were an artist so he could recreate the sheer beauty of what he saw. Or a musician so he could write a song. Hell, he was rich. He’d hire someone to paint her and someone to write a song about her.
She opened her eyes and stared into his. “Um…your turn.” The words were said softly, almost shyly.
He chuckled. “Sweetheart, I’m just getting started.”
She grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
He laughed. “You were, were you?” He pulled out and flipped her over on her stomach. Without asking her to, she came up on all fours, and he entered her from behind.
“Is it greedy of me to want another?” she asked, glancing at him from over her shoulder, her hair slightly in her eyes.
He pushed her hair aside so he could see her face. “Not nearly as greedy as it is of me to want to do it again and again and again.” With each again, he rocked hard into her. “So many agains you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”
She reached between her legs and stroked him. “Do you think you can last that long?” And then her nails scraped lightly against his balls, as she squeezed her inner muscles against him.
The combination took him dangerously close to his own climax. “Damn it, Kinley. Not yet.” Hell… Did he really just stop her? He had to, or hi
s ability to please her would be greatly diminished.
She laughed, removed her hand from his jewels and rhythmically pushed her perfect ass into him.
Jesus, he loved this position with her.
He reached around and pinched her nipple, only relenting when she cried out, “Ian, come with me.”
He leaned forward and lightly kissed her neck. “I love my name on your lips when they’re red and bruised from my kisses.”
“What do I have to do to hear my name on your lips?” She sounded breathless. Like a woman trying to hold on, but losing the battle.
He moved his lips to her ears. “My balls like your hands.” He bit her earlobe.
“Ouch.” She reached between them. Only this time, instead of playfully scraping, she squeezed.
“Kin—” His breath caught.
“Yes?”
He thrust hard against her until her muscles contracted and tiny sounds of pleasure escaped her lips. Only then did he allow his own release—a release that stopped time. Threatened to change the course of history. “I fucking loved that.”
She laughed, gave a sigh of pleasure, and then collapsed. He went down with her, rolling them over until they were spooning. He inhaled the scent of her shampoo—the same scent that had been on the pillow he slept with last night.
She shifted away and rolled onto her back.
He watched as she spiraled back to reality. It started with a slow smile and a soft sigh, followed by the relaxing of her body into the mattress. He wanted to sit up and do a touchdown dance, knowing he caused that reaction in her.
He ran a finger down the side of her cheek, and she rolled so that she was facing him. Did she know she’d just cast a spell over him? One he wasn’t sure he could ever break. Wasn’t sure he’d ever want to break.
“You are—”
She laid a finger on his lips. “Don’t say anything.”
He kissed her fingertip. Since when did women not want to talk after sex? “But—”
She sat up and looked down at him. Her eyes hooded. “We can talk in the morning.”
