Do Him Right

by Cerise DeLand

  “But we are. We’re learning how to work well together.” He cupped her mound with one big hand. “I’m finding what makes you hot and wet. How fast. And Jesus, are you soaked.” He reached for her waistband.

  She stilled his hands with her own. Being bold with a man was a new tactic for her, but with him, she had few qualms. And lots of needs. “Let me do this.”

  He grinned, his generous mouth turned up in glee. “Be my guest.”

  She kissed him fast then wriggled sideways to stand on unsteady legs. Naked from the waist up, she raised her arms and arched upward then turned to let him view her from the side.

  He narrowed his eyes, his breath heavy. “You’d better hurry, darlin’ because my patience is always very thin.”

  Oh, she knew that for certain, didn’t she?

  “Mmm. I hear you,” she whispered and turned so that she unbuttoned her skirt, unzipped it then faced him once more to let the things shimmy down her hips. And with each inch the skirt dropped, so did his eyes. Better than any plan, the damn fabric caught at the jut of one hip bone and gaped open at the seam of her mons. She smelled her own fragrance, and her need for him escalated to a fever pitch. Sex had been such a luscious event with this man, and she wanted to ensure it was again, so she tilted her hips up toward him and asked, “When I take this off, will you lick me again?”

  He growled. “All you want.” He waggled a finger at her. “Take it down, baby. Now.”

  She couldn’t have rehearsed it better so that when she shifted her hips once more, her skirt slowly slid to the floor in a sinuous whoosh. Hands still above her head, she just stood there and let him look his all.

  He rose, never taking his eyes from hers, and stalked her around the bed like a mean male animal. Then, just when she would have thought he’d embrace her, he sank to his knees and kissed her bush then blew small puffs of air against her slick, wanting flesh. “I’m going to eat this pussy like no one ever has.”

  “No one,” she told him, barely making a sound, “ever has.”

  He smiled against her lower belly. “Just me, then.” He ran one finger along her seam so lightly she whimpered at his touch. “Only me. Spread your legs, darlin’.”

  She gulped, did as he ordered, and he buried his lips in her curls.

  “Ah, you smell so good. I’m going to wear your honey scent for days after I eat you. You know that?”

  “Oh yes, please!” She put her hands to his shoulders to support herself. “I want to smell myself on you.”

  “Christ, what a cat you are.” He hummed as he fingered her labia open. “You have the plumpest lips. I’m going to suck them hard and make them flood for me.”

  “Hurry!” Her legs began to buckle.

  “I’ve got you, Shana, baby.” He backed her up to the cool wall, rolled open her labia and sent his tongue inside in one sweep of her clit. “Swollen for me, isn’t it?”

  She quivered.

  He clutched one thigh. “Open wider for me.”

  She complied. “I can’t stand.”

  “‘Course you can, cuz I’m having you this way.” And did he. With dexterous care, he held her lips open to his seeking tongue. Darting around her clit, he flicked her nub with butterfly whisks then licked the tip as she ground her teeth, her arms bracketed against the wall, her hips tilted to his mouth. He sent one thick finger up inside her cunt. Growling, he curled it inside her as he laved one lip, sucking up her juices, and moved to bathe the other with his ministrations.

  “I’m going to come, Chet. Don’t want to…without you.”

  He paused and spoke against her lower belly. “Hold on, honey. There’s more to come. Feel this.”

  She bit her lip and whimpered as he shot another finger up inside her and stroked a fiercely needy spot.

  “Hot baby,” he crooned as he kissed her clit. “Want a piece of me?”

  “Yes!” she demanded, thinking he meant to let her lie down and fuck her to her heart’s delight. But instead, he rose, his lips coated with her essence, and kissed her as he began to tear off his clothes and toe off his shoes. She’d felt the power of his arms, and the strength of his embrace. Standing against him there, she rubbed herself across his naked torso as she helped him work at his belt buckle and jeans. “How?”

  He cupped her face and spoke on her mouth. “Ever sucked a man?”

  Her expression of wonder must have answered for her.

  “Can I?” Her fingers found his steely cock and thrilled to his length and his heat.

  “I’m yours,” he whispered.

  She sank to her knees. He was beautiful. Huge. His bluish head dripping pre-cum. She wrapped her hand around him. Even in her dreams, she’d never had the imagination to plan loving him like this. God knew she didn’t have the experience. Only instinct.

  So she went with it. Sinking her mouth over his thick penis, she tasted his silken skin and smelled his desire. Her channel throbbed and her thighs became drenched in her own fluid delight. She pulled away then ran her tongue along the length of his shaft. She heard him grunt, felt him brace himself against the wall with one hand, the other to her hair.

  “More, baby. Do it to me again.”

  Knowing now that he loved it, she began a rhythmic caress of her tongue along his length and shifted to take the whole of him into her mouth. Listening to him growl, she wiggled closer to him and took him with sure pressure until he caught her under her arms and lifted her. “No more. You’re too good. You’re gonna make me come.”

  She laughed in triumph.

  He caught her to him, twirled and laid her on his bed. “Hold that pose.” He rose and went through one door, opened what sounded like a cabinet and came back with a box of condoms. Tearing at the seal on the new box, he dumped them out on the floor. Bending, he grabbed one, ripped it open and rolled it on in two deft strokes. He climbed back up to hover over her, just like in her dreams of him, and his cock nestled near her ravenous pussy. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and whispered how she needed him. “Now, Chet.”

  He sank inside her in one long, searing glide. She thrashed her head at the size of him.

  “You are so wonderful,” she praised him, awed that this man was so virile yet so tender with her.

  He tipped up her chin. “You are the one who’s better than any fantasy I’ve ever had. Let me show you,” he crooned as he gripped her hips and plunged over and over again into her with the determined drive of an athletic man. She went with his possession, fingers fisted in his coverlet, hips up and rocking with his demanding thrusts, mouth open in silent screams of potent pulsing waves. Once again, like their first mating, this tumult broke fast and furious, Shana coming first and Chet tumbling close behind her.

  Melting over her, he cradled her close, kissed her ear and her throat. “I don’t know if I can let you go long enough to make lunch.”

  She chuckled, rolling up her hips to feel the delicious length of his cock still filling her. “Gotta have some energy to do this again.”

  He propped himself on his elbows, his fingers combing her hair back from her cheeks. “I don’t take women to bed first thing after I meet them.”

  “I didn’t think you did.”

  “I don’t bring them home either.”

  “And I haven’t had a lot of affairs. Not even a lot of bed partners.” She had to make him see he was so special to her.

  “I gathered that. Not knowing any guys who cook. Or any who’ve loved you well here.” His hand drifted down her tummy to her mons.

  “And not knowing how to make love to a man with my mouth.” She looked away, too shy to discuss intimate sex, even though today, with him, she’d had the most fulfilling orgasms of her life.

  With insistent fingers to her chin, he drew her face to look at him and winked at her. “You did just fine, darlin’. Better than.” He grinned.

  She beamed at him. “I thought so.”

  “I know so.” He hugged her close. He shifted up, letting her feel how erect his pe
nis remained. “This is what we’re going to do. I get up and go to the kitchen. Make you that steak. You go in there,” he indicated the bathroom, “and take a shower. I don’t have anything fancy in there. No hair dryer.”

  She inhaled, tickled that this was proof he really didn’t make it a practice to bring women home with him. “I can manage.” She squeezed his penis in her swollen channel. “But I’ll feel so empty.”

  He grunted. “Aw, honey, you’re making this hell to leave you. But you can bet I’ll be back. Tell me you want me back.”

  She met his challenge with one of her own. “I want you back often.” Because you are so much better than any lover I ever imagined.

  “Well, then, darlin’, you have got yourself one hot and horny man.” He pulled out of her, gave her a hand up and spun her toward the bathroom. “Help yourself to clean towels in the closet and my robe, if you want. Come out to the kitchen. We’ll eat then go meet the president of the rodeo corporation.”

  Stunned back to the reality of dealing with business, she stepped away from him. She tried to smile and pretend she didn’t have to face any of the personal and professional problems she’d created for herself. Because I care for this man. This real, live, caring, tender man.

  He didn’t detect her change in mood but swept his eyes down her naked body. “Get in there before I change my mind and rope you to this bed.”

  Feigning impishness, she danced backward and batted her lashes at him. “Why, Mr. Stapleton, what a swell idea!”

  She had to dart inside the bathroom to escape his reach.

  Escaping herself was impossible. Her initial fear that Chet might know who she really was had morphed into a bigger one. Now that she was going to help him professionally, sleeping with him was such a bad idea. Letting him love her, letting herself fall into bed with him, she had learned there was so much to this man that she hadn’t dreamed. Couldn’t dream.

  She looked at her reflection in his huge bathroom mirror. This afternoon, she’d been naked before him, except for her lack of courage. Her lack of honesty.

  She had to tell him.

  Come clean.

  Argh! She ground her teeth at the bad analogy then she stepped into his shower and drowned herself in shampoo, soap and recriminations. She washed her hair, vowing she would call Jeff first thing after this and tell him what she’d done. He wouldn’t be happy. Far from it. He had a temper. A huge one. One he’d never used on her, but now, he certainly might. To some extent, she wouldn’t blame him.

  She washed her body, silently repeating a mantra that she wouldn’t make Chet any promises on any of the big-ticket projects. Vendor costs were so unpredictable.

  She laved her breasts and arched at the sensitivity of her nipples. The nubby texture of the washcloth made her moan and remember the way Chet sucked her areolas into his warm, wonderful mouth. She fingered her belly ring and simulated how he had caressed her all the way to her pussy. Throbbing with renewed need, she delved inside her folds, and the satin of her labia, so swollen still, made her groan. She needed Chet, this lover who was so mature, kind, rational. The man who did not resemble at all the erratic one she had written about four years ago. This man who had seized her body in a sinuous, sexual mating was tender and considerate.

  “I love how you touch yourself.” His sonorous voice fell around her as he entered the shower, put two strong arms around her and pulled her back against him. He nuzzled her ear. “Is all that because of me?”

  “Oh yes,” she whispered as he took the cloth from her and began to wash her nipples with a deft, circular motion. “I can’t get you out of my mind.”

  Grunting, he washed her navel and her pubic hair in soothing whirls. To give him greater access, she tilted her hips up, and he delved between her heavy labia to wash every tiny fold and tantalize her more.

  “That’s torture,” she told him.

  “Yeah, baby, I hear you. For me too.” He turned her around, dropped the washcloth and sank to his knees. He put his mouth to her seam. “I know how to give you some sweet relief.”

  She braced herself, hands to his shoulders. “Chet, loving you so often is so wicked.”

  He rolled her open and tongued her begging little clit. “Pretty Shana. I’m gonna show you the real meaning of wicked,” he spoke against her oversensitive flesh and made her cry out in rough need. He nibbled on her bundle of nerves, sent two fingers high up inside her channel and pumped her so that she trembled in his arms. His other hand was on her ass cheek and his thumb caressed her small dark hole.

  She gasped.

  “Easy, darlin’. I’d never hurt you.” To prove it, he used water from the shower and cream from her cunt to massage her and test her tiny passage, until he inserted the tip of one finger.

  She bucked.

  He licked her clit. “What do you think?”

  “I want more.” She pushed her mound against his mouth, the spray of water from the shower tingling her skin, his lips electrifying her cunt and his finger invading her tight, virgin ass.

  “You got it, baby.” He sent his finger higher inside and pumped her in tiny strokes. “We’re gonna make you happy you let me in here.” He blew on her clit and withdrew his finger from her ass. “Come let me fuck you on the floor.”

  “But, but I want more of that,” she cried, fascinated and frantic to have him plunging once more into her dark recess.

  “We’re gonna go slowly there, darlin’.” He helped her step carefully from the shower then wrapped her in huge soft towel and tugged her to the floor. On top of a fluffy, white rug, he spread her out wide, knees up, feet flat to the floor. Kneeling between her legs, he gazed at her naked flesh. “Your folds are so red and slick. Man, do I love the way you want me. No, no. Don’t clamp your legs together. This lovely kitty is mine, isn’t it?”

  She swallowed. “Yes.”

  “Gonna show you such a good time, Shana, you won’t ever want another man inside this hot little cunt.”

  She moaned, never having known how she yearned for a man who sweet-talked her with such delicious dirty words. She reached for his cock that stood up, proud and red and ready. “Give me that.”

  He stretched up to the sink top and extracted a condom from a package. In a fast roll, he had the damn thing on his penis and his hands spreading her thighs wide. In one sure thrust, he was inside her. Buried balls-deep, he grunted and held.

  She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think of anything except being possessed by him. “Come on, baby, fuck me.”

  And he did. If their first fuck was furious, and the second fiery, this one was a sensuous, slow ecstasy. The water on their bodies made them slip together so smoothly and their growing instinct for how the other paced the tempo made them graceful in their joining and lusty in their execution. When she cried out in a never-ending series of tiny orgasms, he rode her longer, more surely until she milked him and had him shouting and sinking over her in his own completion.

  Exhaling, she wound one arm around his shoulders and ran a hand through her wet hair. Astonished at her body’s languor, she thrilled at the ways she could enjoy him. Had enjoyed him. She chuckled.

  He propped up on one elbow, his palm covering one breast so that his lips could suck on one grateful nipple. “How do you feel now?”

  She laughed up at him, replete with sexual release and oddly testy. “Hungry. Starving. Did you manage to cook any food in the two minutes you were in the kitchen?”

  He tsked. “Irritable when you’re hungry, huh? I’ll make a note to always feed you well. Time to eat. Come on, crabby.”

  * * * * *

  Jeff blew a gasket when he heard her describe the terms of her deal with Chet.

  “You told him you’d take two grand plus your expenses?” he yelled into his phone.

  Holding her cell away from her ear, Shana winced. Good thing she’d decided to go out on the front lawn of Chet’s house to call her boss. “Look, Jeff, you gave me permission to negotiate.”

  “Negot
iate. Not donate!” He cursed.

  She set her jaw, pushed her sunglasses up her nose and scanned the cloudless, blue sky over her head. “I’ll take a cut in salary.”

  “You’re damn right you will!”

  She huffed. He could have agreed without rubbing it in. Why did she think, that because she had been exempt from his tirades that she always would be? Because he had the hots for her, that was why. And now she knew that money and profitability would always rule his mind, even with a woman he wanted. Besides, no one talked to her like this. No one.

  “Are you still there?” he bellowed. “Shana? Listen to me.”

  She was. Just barely. Anyone yelling at her became just a roaring in her ears.

  “I know you wanted this client. God knows why. But I said you could go after them. And you’ve landed them.”

  “Congratulate me, Jeff,” she demanded.

  “I know you can do the job,” he conceded, his belligerent tone mellowing. “All those years on that cutting horse ranch and your father on the circuit means you know a lot about rodeos.”

  “I know I can do this too.” Better than you. Or anyone else in the firm.

  “Do you have a signed contract yet?”

  “This afternoon. Chet Stapleton is taking me over to meet the president of the rodeo corporation in a few minutes.”

  “And how is Stapleton?”

  She smiled, happy to tell him what she’d learned today about Chet. “A smart businessman. Kind. A gentleman.”

  Jeff snorted. “Hell. The Romeo of the Rodeo now has manners?”

  His use of Chet’s old nickname had her scuffing the dirt with the toe of her shoe. “Yes, he does.” More than you.

  “You be careful, you hear me? That man has more charm than a Texas gambler. You do not want to let him persuade you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

  She couldn’t help the grin that sprang to her lips. This morning she had done as much of the persuading at Chet had. “Don’t worry.”

  “I mean business.” Jeff’s tendency to corral Shana did not intimidate her. From the day he hired her he had run rings around her with rules and instructions. That he also treated her more politely than his other female employees had not been lost on her. So what if he had designs on her? She had none on him. Whether that had been evident to him or not, Shana could never figure out. But now he had removed his kid gloves and laid down his laws. “Do not get mixed up with the likes of him. He had more fancy women in his riding days than a dog has fleas. You do not want to be bitten by the Stapleton bug. It’s an itch you can’t scratch.”