Marcus gazed out the window. “You don't want a meathead like me for a boyfriend, Mila. I understand that. You want a nice country boy in a plaid flannel shirt and scuffed blue jeans.”
“Who said anything about me getting a boyfriend? The last I checked, I'm getting pregnant in a few days. I'll have even less time for a boyfriend than ever.”
“Then we're two peas in a pod. We'll both live our lives alone.”
“Except you'll have a child to raise. Maybe you won't have a girlfriend, but you won't be alone. Or maybe the baby will make you a sex magnet for every woman in search of the perfect mate.”
He snorted. “I should be so lucky.”
Mila went back to her own window. They both buried themselves in their respective dream worlds until Marcus murmured under his breath again. “It does seem like a crazy way to have a baby. It seems like there ought to be a much simpler way to do it.”
“There is,” Mila replied. “There's the old fashioned way, but that's not going to happen between us.”
The silence got longer and longer. Mila kept her eyes fixed on the scenery flowing by her window. She didn't dare turn around to face him. So many confused thoughts and emotions and images flashed before her, she couldn't make sense of them all. Could it be? Impossible! How could she even consider it?
Maybe, just maybe. Naw, it was too far-fetched. But what if? What's the worst that could happen? Curiosity overcame her reserve. Ever so slowly, she turned around to find him turning toward her at exactly the same time.
Their eyes found each other. Mila searched his face for some answer. What was he thinking about right now? Could he really be thinking the same thing as her?
He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He glanced down at her mouth and back up to her eyes. That penetrating question nagged his eyes. What if? Maybe, just maybe.
She glanced down at his mouth, his firm mouth lined with angular jaws. What would it be like...just once? Somehow, that mouth moved just a fraction of an inch closer to her. She caught his smell, rich and earthy and inviting. That smell burst into her brain, and a jet of saliva shot into her mouth. She swallowed hard.
His lips pursed. His eyes moved in a triangle from one eye to the other, down to her mouth, and back to her eyes. Out of the distant reaches of space, something broke the spell holding her in place. “Mila....”
She jolted out of her reverie. “Anyway, that's not going to happen. We're...” She broke off.
“What if we did? I mean, you're gonna get pregnant one way or the other anyway. What if we...I mean, why not? What difference would it make in the end?”
She glanced back down to his mouth. His tongue moved back and forth behind his teeth when he talked. His mouth hypnotized her. What would those lips taste like? What would his tongue taste like? What would his skin taste like and his....?
She shook herself. She couldn't start thinking about that, but the images kept invading her mind. He touched himself thinking about her. He jerked off thinking about....nailing her. What did he think about? Did he think about bending her over and driving his...Did he think about spreading her legs and ...with his tongue...that tongue in his mouth right now?
A squirt of sticky pussy juice gushed between her legs. She couldn't stop it. Burning excitement scorched her cunt. She squirmed in her seat to stifle it, but she wound up stimulating it to hotter heat instead. He spread her legs. He touched her aching self with that tongue. He bent her over. He shot his load inside her. He knocked her up against the limo seat with his pounding meat.
Christ! What was happening to her? She shouldn't. She couldn't. She had to keep her mind on business. He was her boss. He paid her to do a job, and here she was, thinking about that.
Another part of her fought back against every objection. So what if she did? He paid her to get pregnant, didn't he? What faster, simpler way could there be? She wouldn't have to undress in front of a lot of strangers. She wouldn't have to piss on a testing strip every day for God knows how long. Wham, bam, and it would be over.
She could think of worse ways to get pregnant. Even now, his very presence intoxicated her with all kinds of wicked ideas. He attracted her like no one else. He always did. Only their iron-clad professionalism stopped her from throwing herself at him before.
She wanted to do it with him just as much as he wanted to do it with her, but they couldn't. They wouldn't. She would get out of this limo, and they would go on with this contract. She would pay off her mom's house, and he would get his baby. They would shake hands and never see each other again.
So what was the harm in doing it, just once? If she wanted it and he wanted it, why not? She took another look at him. How did he manage to inch toward her without her noticing it? How did that mouth and those shoulders and that all-consuming presence get so big it blocked out everything else?
She looked back up at his eyes. They hovered not an inch from her face. They occupied her every thought. She couldn't fight them. They moved in on her with that determined force with which he approached everything in life. He saw something, and he went after it.
He spent three years looking at her, and he never went after her before. Now, all the years of waiting came to a head and he wouldn't hold back anymore. He read in her eyes the plain fact. She wanted it as much as he did. He crossed the last frontier separating them, and his mouth closed over her lips.
Once their lips met, the dam burst. They flew at each other in a passion. Holy crap, she wanted him! She never let herself feel how hot he made her until now. She never let herself acknowledge, not in her most private moments, how she wanted to devour him limb from limb. She wanted to lick the sweat off his skin and swallow him whole.
His hands explored all over her in a furious fever to touch every inch of her at once. He petted her hair back from her face. He tugged her toward him with his arms around her waist. He pawed down her arms and placed her hands on his shoulders.
He panted through her gobbling lips. “Mila...I wanted this so bad...You're so beautiful and delicious...Come to me...Oh, Jesus, yes!”
She couldn't speak for his mouth all over hers. He mashed her lips apart, and his tongue darted into her mouth. Oh, it tasted just as heavenly as she imagined. Rockets exploded in her brain. She lashed his mouth all over in a desperate hurry to taste everything. She licked his saliva off his tongue. His kiss sent fresh injections of moisture into her panties.
She rocked and mewed against the limo seat, but that only tortured her delicious genitals all the more. She smeared the wicked sauce all over her lips. Devilish dreams of slamming and sticky wetness lunged her hips toward him.
She hugged his head close where she could kiss him to her heart's delight. The first fermented explosion passed away, and Marcus found those parts of her he wanted to touch. He squeezed her ribs until she heaved her heavy breasts up into his grasp. He crushed them under her jacket and kneaded the whining cries from her lips. How did she ever want anything this bad and never even realize it? How could she work for him for three years without buckling to her knees at his feet?
She scooted her hips as far toward him on the seat as she could, but it wasn't enough. She had to find a way to get closer to him. While her sex-starved brain worked on that problem, he found his way inside her jacket, but her blouse still held her away from him. Her skin screamed for his touch, for his skin, but he wouldn't do anything more than graze his thumbs over her tits in agonizing slow brushes.
She pressed her breasts into his hands until they smashed against his chest. She scraped her chest back and forth against his palms. Marcus purred under his breath in delight, but he wouldn't relieve her tortured desires. How could he kiss her like that? How could he touch her raging breasts without knowing how much he turned her on?
She squeezed him tighter. She had to have him. She had to draw him into herself. If this chance encounter never happened again, she better enjoy it while it lasted. She would probably never get her hands on a man as rich and handsome and attractiv
e as Marcus. She had to destroy herself against the granite bulk of his muscled frame. Then she could walk away.
One hand left her breasts. Ah, now he would touch her. Now he would give her some relief from this burning need eating away at her guts, but he didn't touch her. He went back to stroking her arms until one hand caressed over her shoulder to her neck. He didn't even try to take her jacket off. Was this all just a romantic kiss for him? Maybe he didn't want to do it at all. Maybe he didn't need her the way she needed him.
His hand cradled her head behind her neck. For a moment, he guided her head back and forth against his kiss. She swam in the delicious bliss of that kiss when, all of a sudden, his great meathook clamped down hard in her hair. He jerked her head back away from his mouth.
Mila cried out in surprise, but he already dove in under her chin and sank his teeth into her throat. He peppered her neck down to her collar with searing love bites. Mila fought that mighty hand, but he wouldn't let her go. He tugged her in hard and devoured her neck all the way down to her sternum.
Before she knew what he was doing, he pushed her lapels apart with his chin. He mouthed his way down into her cleavage. His other hand popped the buttons open to make way for him, and the shirt collapsed out of his way in humble submission.
All the rest of Mila's being melted with it. He buried his face in her busty cleavage, and she gasped and panted her breasts into his face. His breath warmed her all the way down to her crotch. She ached and throbbed for him down there, but he wouldn't do anything he didn't want to do.
His hands found her exposed bra. He mangled the lacy cups and lifted her breasts into his adoring face. He kissed them, first with gentle pecks, getting harder and more demanding until his teeth sank into her tightening nipples.
Mila quaked and sobbed. Oh, Jesus! Oh, fuck! How could anything be so good? How could she stand to get so hot? She would explode in a second. She rode the limo seat faster and harder. She had to...she had to...
Marcus slid one hand behind her back. He followed her natural movements while his mouth discovered all the intricacies of her bra. He came back up to her cleavage and nuzzled his way, down, down into her cups. His tongue shot out, and he licked the taut nipple once.
Mila screamed in aching desire. She couldn't stand this anymore. She grabbed his head and shoved him down into her breast. She had to cram her tits into his mouth before she died of heartache.
He obliged in his own good time. Just when she couldn't stand it any longer, he eased down her lacy cup and let the glorious little nub pop into his mouth. He sucked it in and nagged it to screaming pain with his teeth. He lifted it up with his mouth and let it sink.
She hated this. Her desires consumed her beyond tolerance. Her swollen tissues oozed against her panties. She hurt them rubbing them on the seat, but she couldn't stop herself, she needed it so bad.
With languid care, he brought that hand around from behind her back to stroke up and down her thigh. She did her best to catch him and bring him in higher against her crotch, but he wouldn't come. What was wrong with him? Didn't he realize how he tormented her with this horrible slowness? Why didn't he bend her over and smash her to pieces the way she wanted him to?
He took an eternity of sucking her nipple and rubbing his smooth cheeks against her cleavage before he worked all the way up her thigh to her box. She humped her hips along the seat in furious anticipation, but she couldn't get him to work any faster. When he finally got there, he gave her sweet nexus one quick touch and immediately backed off to stroke her thighs some more.
All of a sudden, his lips appeared on her mouth. Her tits hung out in the breeze with her shirt pushed back on either side. One nipple pricked in the open air where he left it wet with saliva. Every inch of her skin tingled with desire for him.
He whispered into her brain. “You are so beautiful. You don't know how beautiful you are. Do you want me to touch you like this? Is this what you want?”
She had to get him. She had to tell him what she wanted. “Yes, please. Please touch me. I want it so bad.”
He kissed her once, twice, little brother kisses, tender uncle kisses. Where was his passion? Where was his torrential desire? She would burst out crying in a minute if he didn't want her the way she wanted him.
If anything, he pulled away from her. He kissed her less and less. He let a longer and longer pause linger between kisses. She looked up into his eyes and pleaded for...for something. He leaned back and regarded her with cool detachment. “You want this, don't you? You want me touching you like this.”
“God, yes! I want it.” She broke off. She wanted it, but she would never get it. She spoiled her chances with him when she let him see how much she wanted it.
He kissed her one last time and hummed under his breath. He was finished. One more pass of his fingers up her inner pants seam and he would leave her alone. She would go home and cry into her pillow, and he would never know how much it hurt.
He moved back another inch, and her heart broke. He stared into her eyes. She swallowed the lump in her throat. She didn't want him touching her leg anymore if he wasn't going all the way. His fingers trailed all the way down to her knee. He pressed his lips together. Now he would quit.
All of a sudden, faster than she could think, his hand dove in all the way and closed around her box in a masterful, crushing grip. He dug his fingers under her ass and massaged her clit with his thumb. His face swept right up close to her eyes, and he hissed into her mouth. “I want to see you cum, baby. I want to see you bow before me. Come on. Show me how much you want it. Do you want that. Huh, baby? Is that what you want?”
She couldn't react fast enough. He beat his hand against her crotch. He rocked her back and forth the way she just finished rocking herself. He saw, and he knew. He must know how wet and hot she was down there, inside her pants. He closed his powerful hand around her and blew her apart into a thousand pieces.
The harder he pressed, the harder he rubbed, the faster he bucked his hand against her snatch, the more fierce his growls into her face. “Cum for me, baby. Show me how you like to cum. Is your pussy wet down there? Is that what you want? Does that turn you on? Huh? Do I turn you on?”
“Oh, God, yes,” she panted.
“Did you like hearing how I stroked my cock thinking about you? Did you like hearing how I want to fuck you? You hot little monster. You want me to fuck your sweet little pussy, don't you?”
She could barely choke out the words. “Oh, God, yes.”
“Say it, baby. I want to hear you say it.”
“I want you to fuck me. I want you to fuck my sweet little pussy.” The last words came out as a pitiful sob.
He didn't kiss her now. He shoved his hand under her and squeezed the sugar syrup from her saturated cunt. His thumb made little circles over her swelling clit, and fiery rockets exploded through her brain. She peaked once, sagged against the seat, and launched into another monstrous climax. She heaved and tossed against the seat. She mashed her spasming snatch against his hand. “Oh! Oh! Oh!”
Marcus clenched his jaws and snarled down at her. “Fuck, yeah. That's it. Come on, baby. That's the way.”
She didn't hear him. She could only tumble over and under the breaking waves of ecstasy blasting through her. She never came like that in her life. He grabbed one breast and twisted the nipple hard, but the pain only sent her spinning higher into the stratosphere. Her soaking panties cut her slit open with their tough fibers.
She didn't get a chance to come down from that rolling wave when he tugged his hand free. In seconds, he yanked her zipper open and pulled her pants down over her hips. She hitched her hips into the air, and he slid her pants down to her feet.
Mila kicked them off in a frenzy. She had to get him. She had to have him. She had to break herself on his iron bulk. He pitched the wad of pants, underwear, and shoes into a corner and attacked her bare body with raging fury.
He scooped up her voluptuous ass in both hands and lifted her pelvis t
o his mouth. He drank her nectar like champagne from a glass. Mila caved back on the seat. She glared up at him in open-mouthed horror. Her orgasmic surges hadn't subsided from his hand, and here he was, mouthing her to greater peaks of carnal bliss.
He couldn't hold her up like that forever, though. He let her sink onto the seat, and her curvaceous form opened before his attentions. Her thighs fell apart, and her luscious pink petals dripped around his cheeks. He sank his face into her slit and nibbled up and down the opening.
He drilled her clit with his all-powerful tongue. He dabbled in her delicious pools until the saturated tissues squirted their elixir onto his tongue. He squeezed her thighs in tender encouragement until she rotated her hips against his mouth in desperate torment.
How could she stand this? How could she survive this constant treatment? Where would it end? Would she wind up in pieces on the floor when this was all over?
She never had time to worry. He plowed two thick fingers around her clit and down to screw into her pulsating cunt. Her cavernous channel yawned wide to receive him, but when his tongue set to work on her clit again, the muscles clamped down around those meaty digits. He flexed all the muscle power in his arms to penetrate her engorged umbra.
Mila gyrated her ass on the seat in time to those deep insertions. She bumped her cervix against his fingers while his mouth banged her clit to distraction. Dear God, that was so damn good! His fingers touched the most sensitive spots along her pussy to titillate her to sweet release.
His shoulders plowed under her thighs and lifted her legs around his neck. He settled into a long, delirious feast on her aching anatomy. He devoured her clit and slid his tongue alongside his fingers to explore her dripping depths.
He grunted and growled at his work. He enjoyed every droplet seeping down his throat and coating his cheeks with glistening goodness. Mila humped her hips against his face and rode him to screaming orgasm all over again.
How long could he go on? How long could he stay submerged in that crimson world of hot blood and foaming desire? He showed no signs of slowing down, not even when she dissolved in fresh bursts of glorious ecstasy. He only moved lower to cover her pussy with his mouth so the honeyed juices ran onto his tongue instead of down her crack to her bumping ass.
His Royal Majesty : A Royal Wedding Romance Page 19
