Sinful (Undone)

by Jennifer Dawson

  A little gasp and her hands clutch my shoulders. She rolls her hips and I have to grit my teeth to control my most primal instincts that demand I take her, right here, right now.

  She whispers, “I want it.”

  I slip my hand into her shorts and glide my fingers over her wet, slippery flesh. “Oh yeah? Show me how much.”

  My thumb plays over her clit and I sink inside her tight, hot body all the while trying to leash my own urges. Because, Christ, she’s going to feel like fucking heaven when I get inside her.

  Our eyes meet and hers are already glassy with lust.

  I glance at her lips, and pump my fingers. “Enjoy it, girl, this is the last free orgasm you’ll get.”

  I growl in satisfaction when her body clenches at my words, telling me everything I need to know. Because there is a part of her that likes this. Or at least likes to be handled.

  It makes me…hopeful.

  She moans and her hips jerk as I circle the bundle of nerves between her legs, soft and light, sure to drive her crazy. “Leo.”

  Never in my entire life has my name sounded so good.

  Still buried deep, I grip her neck with my free hand and pull her close, capturing her mouth with mine. I hold nothing back.

  I pour all my dominance into the kiss.

  And she makes this whimpering sound in the back of her throat that threatens to push me over the edge. I fuck her mouth like I want to be fucking her body and when I can take it no more, I pull back and lean against the couch and jut my chin at her. “Ride my fingers. Fuck yourself on my hand until you come.”

  I expect hesitation.

  I don’t get it.

  She grabs my shoulders, digs her nails into the cotton of my shirt, and starts to move up and down on my hand. She throws everything she has into it. Head falling back, her body writhes, and she alternates between a dirty grind that rubs my hand all over her clit and working my fingers back and forth in her slick passage.

  I have always kept my relationships easy. Even when I want a girl, she doesn’t threaten my control. When I lose it on her, it’s by choice.

  But nothing about Jillian feels like choice. With her, my discipline, my self-control is like a fine thread stretched far too tight. Her pussy feels so fucking good on my fingers I can’t even imagine the pleasure of her on my cock.

  I grit my teeth, breaking into a sweat right along with her as she works her body.

  She rolls her hips and she’s so wet she slicks my fingers.

  She lets out a filthy moan.

  Something breaks inside me, and the primal beast that’s been lurking and stalking just below the surface, is unleashed. I have to claim her. I need her to feel it.

  A low, animalistic sound emerges from my throat.

  I still her and she looks at me, confused.

  I kick her flimsy coffee table away, pick her up and push her to the floor.

  She plants her feet and arches into the air. I strip her shorts and panties down her legs. I grip her throat, push three fingers into her cunt, and capture her lips in a brutal kiss.

  I pound into her, hooking my fingers and grinding the heel of my palm against her clit as I viciously massage her G-spot. She twists and cries into my mouth.

  I just keep going.

  I need her to come like she’s never come before.

  I’m relentless. Hard.

  I grip her neck tighter.

  Her pulse hammers under my touch.

  She moans, a harsh wail.

  Mercilessly, I fuck her with my hand.

  She bucks and keens under me. I know she can’t decide if she’s in heaven or hell.

  Power rushes through me, going at mach-ten speeds.

  I am ruthless.

  And then I feel it, the first telltale clench of her muscles.

  I release her lips and increase my pace, and we’re both panting for breath.

  Her back is bowed off the floor, and she’s both equally fighting and thrusting into my fingers.

  I move faster. Harder.

  She screams, and thrashes as she contracts violently around my fingers over and over again and it is the hottest, most gorgeous thing I have ever seen in my whole goddamn life.

  I work every spasm from her body and she twitches under me with throaty little gasps.

  I could make her come again. And then again. And again.

  But I don’t want to overwhelm her so I reluctantly slip my fingers from her body and release her throat.

  She blinks huge eyes up at me. She sucks in a breath. “Oh.”

  I smile and will my own body to calm when all I want is to take her. Tonight isn’t about me. It’s about her. I run a hand over her stomach and she shakes under me. “Are you doing okay?”

  “I think so.” She shakes her head. “That was…” she trails off and looks away.

  I lean down and kiss her temple. “I know.”

  “I’ve never.” She waves a hand. “Like that.”

  “It’s okay.” I kneel and drag her with me, and then I move us back to the couch and cuddle her on my lap.

  She buries her head in my neck and curls into me, her eyes closing. “I feel weird.”

  “You’re probably dropping a little. But don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

  “Dropping?”

  “Sometimes, after you’ve experienced something intense you can feel a little lost, maybe even sad.”

  She puts her cheek on my chest. “You won’t leave me?”

  “No.”

  “Thank you, I need you.” Her voice is thick now.

  Christ, what in the fuck was I going to do with her?

  Jillian

  I wake to bright sun, and strong arms wrapped around me. A smile flits across my lips.

  Leo.

  After all this time, he’s here, and he hasn’t left me all night. Somewhere, while I rested against his chest and attempted to recover from the most earth-shattering orgasm in the history of orgasms¸ I drifted to sleep.

  At some point, I have a vague recollection of him moving me, before covering me with a blanket. I clutched his hand and asked him not to go, and he slipped in behind me, pulling me close.

  It was the best night I’ve had in about a million years. I don’t know what will happen between us, but I do know I will roll like a glutton in every second I spend with him.

  I stretch and my muscles protest. We didn’t have sex, but when Leo had held me trapped on the floor he’d been so thorough my body didn’t agree. I have that pleasant soreness that reminds me each and every time I move the pleasure he exacted from me.

  I slip quietly from under him, pull on my abandoned shorts and head to the bathroom, when I’m done I go to my phone¸ make sure it’s on silent and text Gwen. Three guesses who’s sleeping on my couch?

  Fifteen seconds later my phone vibrates in my hand. Oh. My. God. You broke him?

  I can’t wait to talk. I’m a girl. She’s my best friend. There’s no way I’m not spilling every single detail.

  Sex?

  There were orgasms, but no sex.

  At least he knows where the clitoris is. Always a bonus. My Gwen, she’s a practical one.

  On the couch, he stirs and rolls to his back. Leo definitely knows where the clitoris is. As well as some other places that eluded me. I text Gwen. I’ll call later.

  I slide my cell onto the counter and wander back to the living room. The sun pours in through the window and caresses his body like a lover. The artist in me wants to paint him. Not that I’m remotely talented enough to do him justice. In sleep, his face is soft, and beautiful. A painter’s dream. His olive skin taking on a golden glow in the light. Dark lashes. The high planes of his cheeks. His full mouth.

  I shudder, thinking of the way he kissed me. I’d always kind of thought that a kiss was just a kiss. Some of them were good, some were bad, but they were all pretty much the same.

  I was wrong. Leo kisses like he’s going to devour me whole. He kisses with intention. Like he knows ev
ery time he touches me he’s ruining me for all other men.

  I bite my bottom lip. He’s been ruining other men for me since the day I met him, I’m afraid I’ll have to consider convent life if this doesn’t work.

  My gaze skims down his broad chest and flat stomach to rest at his narrow hips. He’d given me two orgasms last night. And not ordinary orgasms either. I had no idea I could come like that. Both times had been incredible, but it was the second one that shattered me.

  The way he’d held me down, by my throat. There’d been something so…so…ruthless about him. So unrelenting. The look in his eye, the way he’d refused to stop even as I twisted under him. It was like he’d forced my body to respond. He didn’t give me an orgasm. He’d pulled it from me.

  Until last night, I hadn’t known there was a difference.

  The question remained, if he’d accomplished all that with his hand, what would sex with him be like? I didn’t understand this whole dominance thing, or know what to do with the prospect that he wanted me to ask him for orgasms, but I do know that if it comes with sex like he’d given me last night, I could easily become an addict.

  I frown. I’d given him nothing in return. Was that right?

  The other night, he’d made it sound like it was about serving him, but it hadn’t been like that at all. Yes, he’d been ruthless and demanding. Yes, he’d taken me to places I hadn’t known I could go. But all his attention had been on me.

  More so than any of the “normal” guys I’d always dated.

  I shiver, my belly dipping at the memory of how crazy I’d been. How I’d wanted to escape his onslaught all the while hoping it’d never end.

  I stare at the fly of his jeans. An idea weaving a path through my mind. I really should do something for him in return, it’s only right. Plus, I want to see him. Taste him. I can almost feel the slide of him in my mouth.

  I worry my bottom lip. I’d never woken a man up with a blowjob before. I study the stretch of denim over his lean hips. I don’t even know if I could get the zipper down without waking him. Sucking a man’s cock awake was a forward move. It certainly didn’t seem submissive, nor was I asking for permission to touch him like I’d rolled my eyes at on the Internet.

  But if they were trying this out, well, then, he had to see me as I am. And I’m a bold, take action type of girl. With his face and body, there was no way I was going to sit around and wait for him to take the initiative all the time.

  I walk to the edge of the couch and contemplate my next move. This would be a lot easier if he wasn’t wearing jeans.

  Well, beggars can’t be choosers. I had to work with what I had.

  With slow, careful movements I move to the button on his jeans and the second I touch him, his hand strikes out, sliding between my thighs to grip my leg.

  I jump, yelping as my gaze flies up to meet amused eyes. I can’t help the heat that flames across my face. “You’re awake.”

  He laughs, and puts his free hand behind his head. “I’m a cop. I wouldn’t be much of one if I didn’t feel someone burning a hole into me.”

  “You were sleeping.”

  “We’re two grown adults sleeping on a narrow couch. I knew the second you woke up.” He grins and his gaze roams over my body. “And what deviousness are you up to this morning?”

  Slightly embarrassed, I clear my throat, start to make up a lie and stop myself. I shrug. “I was going to return the favor.”

  He cocks a brow. “And what favor is that?”

  I wave my hand. “Oh, you know.”

  Expression choirboy innocent, he shakes his head. “Nope. Explain it to me.”

  “Aren’t you a difficult one?” I cross my arms over my chest.

  “Absolutely.”

  I look at him.

  He looks at me.

  And, well, I don’t know how, but his gaze is so direct and steady on mine, I lose and shift my attention to glance out the window.

  “What favor is that, girl?” he prompts again, the sound of the word girl on his lips causing an unexpected flutter.

  When his fingers squeeze on my thigh I suck in a breath and glance down at his cock that I now see straining against his zipper. “I never got to touch you.”

  “And do you want to touch me?”

  I nod. He has no idea how much.

  “Good.” His lids hood as his grip tightens on my leg. “What would you normally do on a Saturday by yourself?”

  His thumb moves a slow circle around my inner thigh, distracting me. I lick my lips. “It depends, sometimes I’d just hang out here, sometimes I’d shop, or maybe go to the art museum.”

  “The art museum. Hmmm…” His eyes darken to almost black as his attention stills on my mouth. “That has potential. The art museum it is.”

  He sits up, grips my hips and pulls me down on him. Before I can question what he’s doing his lips capture mine and I’m lost.

  His head slants and, with one hand tight on my hip, he tangles the other into my hair. His tongue slips past my lips to tangle with my own.

  But before I get consumed it’s over, and I’m left panting and needy.

  He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “I liked waking up with you. Although I could have stood a bigger bed.”

  “Me too.”

  “Tonight, I want you to stay with me.” He rocks me forward, arching up so his cock drags along my clit.

  My eyes practically roll into the back of my head.

  He does it again and I moan, my fingers digging into the cotton of his shirt. “Yes.”

  Tonight. Oh my god, after all this time, it’s finally going to happen. Tonight.

  Expression dark, his pelvis thrusts up into mine. “I’m going to drive you crazy.”

  I gasp. I’m ready.

  His fingers dig into my hips. He presses into me, grinding us together in a slow, contrasting circle that feels better than any sex I’ve ever had. “I’m going to play with that hot little pussy of yours, pin you down, spank you, and when I’m through you’ll be ruined.”

  Mute, I can only nod as sensation riots through my body.

  He kisses me. His mouth hard and demanding before he pulls back. “Have you ever been spanked?”

  When I manage to catch my breath, I sputter out, “Not really. Just the normal guy stuff.”

  “Normal guy stuff, huh?” He yanks me hard, manhandling me until I’m a fevered pitch of excitement. “Then I’ll be the first.”

  “Yes.”

  “I like that idea.” He kisses me one more time and his cock is an intoxicating roll where I need him most.

  And then, everything stops.

  He sets me back, moves his hands to my thighs and says in his dark, sinful voice, “How long do you need to get ready?”

  “What? But… What about…” I trail off helplessly.

  He cocks a grin. “Getting fucked?”

  “Yes?”

  “Later, after you’ve felt what it’s like for me to work you over for a day.”

  My heart skips a beat. “What does that mean?”

  He smiles, and it’s pure evil. “It means by the time I take you all you’re going to be able to think about is my cock inside you and how fast you can beg me to come.”

  “That sounds like a challenge.” Has any man ever made this his purpose? And how does he make everything sound so fantastic? Like an erotic adventure?

  “Take it as you wish, girl.” He pats my ass. “But now it’s time to get ready. Up you go.”

  I sigh, like I’m completely put upon, but really how can I be? I’m going to spend the entire day and night with the man I’ve been lusting after for too many years to count, and his only apparent goal is to drive me crazy with desire.

  I have to be the luckiest girl in the world.

  I scramble off his lap and he says, “How long do you need?”

  I glance at the clock. “At least an hour.”

  He notes the time. “I’ll pick you up at eleven.”

  He makes
his way to the door, turning before he leaves to kiss me. When he lets me go, he smiles down at me. “Wear a skirt.”

  Some part of me thinks about protesting, but I abandon it. “Okay.”

  He grins, and it’s so devious my breath catches. “And don’t forget, no coming without asking first.”

  My face flames and indignation roars inside me. What does he think? That I can’t control myself. I plant my hands on my hips. “For your information, I don’t walk around masturbating all the time. I had two orgasms last night, I think I’m good for a while.”

  He chuckles and leans against the door, appraising me. “And what’s a while?”

  I smirk, liking this banter between us. It gives me hope. Over the years, I’ve grown to appreciate arguing with him. I don’t want to lose that. “I could go at least a month, maybe more. But a couple of hours is a cake walk.” I give him a sassy once over. “Please, you’re not that irresistible.”

  He nods; his expression quite serious, but I see the amusement in his dark gaze. “You’re lucky I’m more interested in the way you’ll feel coming around my cock than testing your theory.”

  I cock my hip farther. “What a shocker.”

  “God help me, but I do like a feisty girl. They are so much fun.” Then he lunges for me, striking out like a snake, and wrapping one hand around my waist and the other around my neck.

  He swings me around, throws me against the wall, and then his mouth is on mine. Hard and possessive, and so consuming my mind goes blank. I grip his shoulders to steady myself and he slants his head, deepening the contact.

  It’s hot, raw and so, so dirty.

  His free hand roams over my body, aggressive and demanding. He fondles my breasts, pinches my nipples until I’m moaning and squirming under him. While he presses against me, he kicks my legs apart, and his hand slips down my shorts.

  He brushes over my clit.

  I’m so wet, from this, from him.

  His fingers move in steady circles, building an all-consuming hunger until I’m gasping for air. My body surges. I pull away from his mouth and rest my head against the wall as I rise to meet his relentless hand.

  I moan, crying out as the orgasm sits on the edge of a knife, and I’m ready. Ready to fall.