by Mia Downing
Her power trip heighted a notch. To be wanted, and to be in such tight control of the situation… All she had to do was give him the word and he’d fuck her senseless. Her bravado wanted her to entice him with a strip tease, ripping her shirt and skirt from her body to reveal the matching bra and thong she purchased just for him. But in reality, she was way too chicken.
Instead, she rose onto her toes and kissed him, her hands sliding across his shoulders to meet behind his neck. It was all the invitation he needed.
His mouth opened—wet, demanding, a zillion times hotter than that kiss in his car. His tongue warred with hers, demanding she keep up with the tempo. She followed his lead, her lips sliding over his, her senses awash with lust. His lips left hers to explore her jaw line, nibbling a path to her ear. Each love bite sent a shiver through her spine, the motion echoed by a rush of hot liquid in her pussy.
Need overrode any caution she’d experienced moments before. Her trembling fingers worked at his shirt buttons, eager to feel his chest against her palm. He must have felt the same need because he copied her motion but only found frustration as her buttons refused to do as told. The buttons popped off under his rough treatment, then his hand slid behind her back, and with a snap of his fingers, her bra was undone, her breasts deliciously free.
“What talented fingers,” she murmured, dipping to plant a kiss on his lightly-haired chest.
“You haven’t seen the best of what they can do.” As if to prove it, one hand slid to cup her breast, his thumb rolling over her nipple. The other yanked her skirt up, around her waist so he could caress her bare ass. “You have the best ass. So firm.” He smoothed his hand over one cheek, his finger following the trail along her thong, down her crack. “I didn’t know you wore thongs. God knows I’ve looked for proof long enough.”
The thought of him staring at her ass, looking for panty lines increased her heat. She nipped at his nipple, enjoying his shudder. “This is my first time wearing one.” She had felt sexy all day, knowing her ass was exposed under the material of her skirt.“Do you like it? I know I do.” His fingers finally travelled to the front and gently splayed across her lace-covered mound. He gently pinched her nipple at the same time, and she closed her eyes to the wave of pleasure. His fingers dipped, then edged under the side seam. He drew in a ragged breath as his fingers slipped between her moist pussy lips. He kissed her neck. “You’re so wet. Hot. I can’t wait to taste you.”
She sighed and opened her stance, allowing his wicked fingers access to her clit. He obliged, rolling the bud between two fingers, then roaming deeper to feel the wetness. He eased one finger inside her core, gently rubbing upward, hitting the sweet spot she’d discovered years ago with her vibrator.
“God, yes.” She moaned, wanting more.
His mouth blazed a path to her breast, his kisses timed with the gentle thrusts of his finger in her pussy. His tongue danced around her nipple then his mouth closed over the tight bud. He sucked at the same moment he added another finger to her channel. She cried out against his neck, sucking his salty skin as the pleasure in her core heightened. Each suckle of his mouth echoed in her pussy, bringing her step by step closer up the ladder to orgasm.
“Ah, I have an idea.” He withdrew his fingers, and she bit her lip to keep from whining in protest. He backed her to her foyer table and paused to set the vase on the ground. He kissed her firmly as his fingers tickled a path down to her hips where they hooked under the side strings and rolled her panties down to her thighs.
He lifted her, setting her ass firmly on the table, the wood cool under her cheeks. Before she could protest, he had her panties off and he knelt between her thighs, his breath hot on her mound.
Control. She wanted him to do this, so why not demand it? She parted her legs, slid her hands into his hair and pulled him closer, her breath coming in short pants. Her boldness made her hotter, wetter than she ever imagined she could be.
He took her invitation, his mouth planting a hot kiss against her pussy lips, his tongue probing between them like he had when he kissed her mouth. Ah, he was so much better at this than the men in her past.
He slid two fingers into her channel, working them in and out in time to his tongue’s delicious rhythm. He nipped at her clit then sucked it, drawing her into his mouth. His other hand slid beneath her ass to explore the dampness that pooled at her anus, gently caressing and prodding until he slid just the tip inside her puckered hole.
She bit her lip and clamped her legs against his head, not wanting to reach that last imaginary rung before she toppled over the top, falling into orgasm. “I’m so close to coming.”
“Then come.” His voice hummed against her clit, strumming her desire higher.
“I want to come with you inside of me. There’s a condom in my purse. Please.” She needed her body’s demand for release to allow him inside of her—if she came, the power would be gone.
He planted one last kiss on her pussy lips then drew away to grab her purse. His fingers quickly found the foil package. She closed her eyes and rubbed her clit, keeping her need high as he unzipped his pants.
“Jesus, you’re hot. Slip a finger inside. Let me see how wet you are.”
Need out-ruled embarrassment, so she did as he asked, dipping into her slick hole, giving him an extra thrill by pumping her pussy with two fingers. He groaned, and she heard the foil rip, the latex rolling down his shaft. Then fingers joined hers, slipping in for a gentle thrust, and the head of his cock nudged her hand. She guided the tip over her clit, allowing the wetness to build on the latex.
He leaned against her, his mouth capturing a nipple as his cock explored the outside of her pussy. The head dipped into her channel then slid up to rub her clit, then down again, dipping a fraction deeper.
She moaned, liking this new sensation, especially when he sucked first one nipple, then the other in the same rhythm. Her desire began the trip back up the ladder to orgasm, her pussy muscles clenching and relaxing, wanting to feel more of him inside of her wetness.
Until he gave a gentle thrust, seating his cock deep within her.
She stiffened and the dark memories flooded her—the pain, the horror, the shame. Her breathing quickened in a new, panicked way, and without thinking she looked at him, confirming it was indeed Adam above her.
“Megan? Are you okay?” He braced himself against the wall with a hand and she trembled, realizing he’d seen her panic.
She took a calming breath at his neck, inhaling his cologne, trying to call back her need. She had the power. She was in control. She bit her lip and fought the madness that loomed closer than her orgasm. But she wasn’t in control, not any more.
“Did I hurt you?”
She opened her eyes to see the concern in his face quickly turn to horror.
“God, tell me you’re not a—”
“No! I’m not a virgin.” She swallowed. “I…” She had to say it at some point but couldn’t bring her lips to form the words. Raped. Damaged. Instead, she explained, “I had a bad experience, once.” Twice, really. Such a bad liar.
He sagged a little against her and began to pull out. No, she couldn’t give up! It had to be now, with him, or she’d never be able to feel what it was like to come with a man deep inside of her. To be normal. Whole. She grabbed his ass and held him close, his cock inching deeper.
“Are you sure? I can stop. Megan, talk to me.”
She bit her lip, unsure how to answer him. Now that the fear had cleared some, her senses allowed her to feel how warm he was, stretching her, his cock twitching, tickling her pussy walls. There was no pain, only a feeling that his cock so deep inside would offer her more pleasure, if she only allowed him. Cautiously, she slipped a hand between them and flicked her clit. The sensation grew, expanded. The knowledge that he’d stop, just for her, allowed the power to surface again.
Even though he could feel her hand between them, rubbing her nub, he still looked concerned, confused even. “Do you want me to sto
p? I know I said I couldn’t outside, but I won’t force you.”
“You’re not forcing me. I want this.” She closed her eyes, frustrated. The others she slept with in college had been boys, only concerned with getting off. If she could just find the power to be in control again, she could make it through. Possibly enjoy the experience. “No, I need this. Please, I just need you to…”
“Go slower?”
“Yes.” She breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe, just maybe, he would be the first to understand what she needed. His hand slid to her pussy, nudging her hand aside. His fingers thrummed her clit, teasing it, flicking the sensitive flesh. His cock twitched but remained in the same position, deep within her. She closed her eyes and rested her head against the wall, allowing the desire to wash over her again. But she needed more, something…different.
“I need you to talk to me,” she whispered.
He relaxed against her and kissed her neck, his tongue hot against her collarbone. “Hmm,” he hummed against her skin. “Shall I tell you how hot it was to watch you finger yourself?”
“Yes,” she breathed, her heart pounding a bit harder. Her pussy muscles clenched around his cock, sending a wave of desire deeper, the ache hotter.
“And I can’t wait to taste your pussy again, this time on a bed, where I can love you fully. I want to fuck you with my tongue, until you come in my mouth.”
Yes, she wanted that, too, but maybe not on the bed. Beds had bad memories, too. She licked her lips and touched her nipple with her finger, tracing a circle around the peak—sinful tremors echoed down below, where his cock waited, still and patient. His fingers rubbed her clit faster, strumming her back into that hazy land where desire and reality met.
“Ah, your breasts want some attention, do they?” He sucked a hot path down her breast, his tongue darting out to taste the hardened peak. Shivers ran across her skin. “I think your pussy is getting slicker by the second. When I finally pump my cock into you, slowly of course, your walls will be like a slick, wet hug—you’re that tight.”
He was right—her pussy was wetter. Hotter. She ran her fingers through his hair and guided his mouth back to her breast. His lips captured her nipple, and she tugged his head, pushing more flesh into his eager mouth. “Suck me harder,” she whispered, voice trembling.
He did as asked, drawing the peak between his lips, taking a hard, long draw on her puckered nipple. She felt it down to the center of her pussy, down to her toes.
She tried to arch her hips against him, but the table bit into her ass. She wrapped her legs around his hips and his cock sank to the full depth. The sensation of him stretching her, filling her, was utter bliss. It was time. “Adam?”
“Mmm?” He lifted her head from her nipple.
“I need you to move.”
He placed his hand on the wall next to her head, and braced himself. “Are you okay?”
“No, damn it. I need you to move inside of me.” Frustration bubbled up out of her desire. She arched her hips again, her clit bumping his hand. Need made her blurt out, “Fuck me.”
“God, yes.” He sounded so eager, she almost laughed. “I’ll go slowly.” She started to close her eyes, but he held her chin. “Open your eyes.”
She did, blinking as she met his hooded gaze. He withdrew his cock slightly, and a second later, his shaft sank deep, stretching, filling her. Looking into his eyes made the sensations stronger and anchored her more firmly into reality. His fingers strummed her hard nub, giving a gentle pinch when he filled her completely.
“Yes,” she moaned. “Harder.”
His thrusts became more rhythmic, insistent. He removed his fingers, and she found the friction of the base of cock rubbing upward a delicious change. His hands cupped her ass, holding her closer as he upped the tempo.
“Kiss me,” she whispered. “And maybe thrust harder.”
“Say it like you mean it.” He slowed the tempo of his thrusts, daring her to be bold.
“Fuck me harder.” She swallowed. Who was this wanton woman with the naughty vocabulary? “And kiss me. Hard.”
His lips met hers, and she kissed him, her tongue stroking his, lips nibbling, mouth demanding. His hips churned harder against hers, his cock thrusting, his balls slapping her ass.
Then the power returned full force—she clenched and relaxed her pussy muscles as her orgasm built—stronger, faster, then finally sweeping her over the edge. His mouth swallowed her gasp, and he tensed above her, finding his own release.
She broke the kiss and leaned her head against the wall, his head falling to her shoulder. The spasms in her pussy were harder, more intense than she’d ever felt on her own, probably because of the thickness of his cock. She clung to him, not wanting him to slip out of her as the waves of ecstasy continued, then finally slowed.
He gave one last thrust and fell against her, his breathing ragged in her ear. “I have to move. Are you okay?”
She nodded, unable to find her voice. She was more than okay. More normal now than she’d ever been. And she had him to thank.
He withdrew from her pussy and stood, leaning against the wall for support. “I would carry you to the bed, but I have to get rid of this condom, and I don’t know where your bed is.”
“The bathroom is right there.” She pointed across the foyer to the closed door, and he crossed the small hall. As desire faded, she found herself feeling more than a little awkward, straddling the table in her foyer. “I didn’t think my little antique table could take this kind of abuse.”
The toilet flushed, the water ran, and a second later, he returned. “That table is a keeper.” He adjusted his pants—how funny he looked, his shirt open but still tucked, his pants askew, his hair unkempt. Lust still brewed in his gorgeous blue eyes. He ran a hand through his dark hair, then held it out to her. “What do you say we go crash on the bed?”
She slid from the table, unsure what to do. In her imagination, Phase Three meant they had hot sex, she got her orgasm, and then he left. But after the amazing experience she had with him, it didn’t seem right to send him off. Nor did he look as if he wanted to leave. Yet she couldn’t cuddle him.
But if he stayed, he could give her another orgasm. Maybe they could play on the couch, and she could see if his cock was better than her vibrator in other ways.
She yanked her skirt down over her hips and pulled her shirt back together. It wouldn’t button, and she remembered he had ripped them off. “What about something to eat? My mother sent me home with lasagna last night. I have a salad, too. I have something for you to change into, if you want.”
“That sounds great.” He pulled her close, wiping something from her cheek, and then he gently guided her head to his chest and folded his other arm around her shoulders.
Maybe she was hasty to reject the cuddling. She rested her cheek against his breast, his heartbeat rhythmic in her ear. The musk of his cologne, the salty scent of his skin renewed her libido, and her body reacted almost instantly. She wanted his mouth on her nipples, his hands all over. “I can’t believe I want you again,” she whispered. “Is that normal?”
“It’s not a bad thing.” His chuckle was a rumble in his chest. “But you need to feed me before I can be of any use to you.” He lifted her chin and kissed her softly. “If you want me so badly, you’ll have to demand it—I’ll be full and lazy after dinner. You think you can manage to be very demanding?”
Demanding. He was allowing her the control she needed. Craved.
She knew eventually they’d have to discuss her past, but for now, she was thrilled to have gotten over this huge milestone. In her mind, this evening, she was truly a woman for the first time.
“Absolutely,” she said, slipping her hand in his.
Chapter Three
Adam enjoyed watching Megan bustle around her kitchen, wearing only his shirt. She had offered him a spare T-shirt and sweats her brother left behind during his last visit, which he was happy to wear—he hated suits. Unfortunately, he had to
wear them, so he chose only the most comfortable cut, which was usually the most expensive.
It was more than erotic to see her in his shirt, the neckline open just enough to see the swell of her cleavage. When she bent to pick up the paper he’d pushed off the table on purpose, he was gifted with a view of both breasts, rosy nipples peeking out of the crisp linen. He leaned forward a bit and the upper half of her tight stomach came into view. What would she do if he lifted that shirt and covered the smooth skin with kisses?
He shifted in his chair, not wanting his growing hard-on to scare her off. He never understood how a guy could get off hurting a woman like that. Now he understood that missing piece that had puzzled him about Megan, that fragment that had warned him keep her at arm’s length.
He’d been attracted to her since the first day she walked into his office and shook his hand. Ultra cool, always professional, there was always a guarded look in her eyes, even when he caught her assessing him while she thought he wasn’t looking.
Now he understood the glances she gave him, the flare of desire dressed with a fringe of something else, something dark, not quite fear, but definitely not lust. He clenched his fist under the table, wanting nothing more than to throttle the bastard who had hurt her.
Megan turned, her thick hair swinging half way down her back, and gave him a sweet smile that tempered his anger. Instead, he concentrated on her chocolate-colored hair—he’d always wondered how long it was, since she wore it up every day. He was pleased that it was long and even shinier when free of the bun she typically wore at her nape.
She opened the cabinet and took out plates, standing on her tiptoes to do so, her long leg muscles toned and defined in the movement. Her ass remained covered. He had to get her to reach higher.
“What’s wrong with the paper ones?” Adam pointed to the stack above the china, ever-hopeful.
She looked at him as if he’d grown an extra head. “The sauce will leak through the paper and make a mess. Besides, I want the table to be nice for you.”
