by HELEN HARDT
One button. Two buttons. Three—
Until he yanks the shirttail out from my jeans and finishes the job by ripping the two halves apart. Buttons fly, one pinging the wardrobe door but most of them falling quietly onto the plush ivory carpeting.
“Couldn’t wait,” he says huskily.
My nipples harden and press against the lace of my bra. Braden flicks one over the fabric, and my knees buckle.
“Take it off,” he growls. “I want to see those tits.”
Again, I obey without question. I unclasp the bra slowly, ease my arms out, and let it fall to the floor at my feet. My ample Cs fall gently against my chest.
Braden’s eyelids lower, and the soft growl comes from his chest again. He loosens his tie and removes it, tossing it on the floor. Then he unbuttons the first two buttons of his crisp white shirt. Black chest hair peeks out. The perfect amount, like I saw in the GQ photos. Braden Black doesn’t manscape, and for some reason that’s a huge turn-on.
He reaches toward me, and I shiver as he cups my breasts.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs and thumbs both my nipples.
I sigh softly.
“Do you like your nipples sucked? Or pinched?”
“All of the above,” I say.
“Oh, baby. We’re going to get along just fine.” He twists my nipples just hard enough to make me groan. “You like that?”
I close my eyes. “Mm-hmm.”
“Say yes, Skye. Always say yes. I need to hear the word.”
Why? I wonder briefly before I say, “Yes. I like that, Braden.”
“Your voice is sexy. I love the way you say my name. Say it again.”
“Braden.”
“Again.”
“Braden.”
“Now, tell me what we’re going to do here tonight.”
“You’re going to fuck me, Braden.”
“Yes, I’m going to fuck you.”
My body turns to gelatin. I’m standing in front of Braden Black, my sandals and jeans still on, my breasts exposed, my nipples hard and ready.
“You say you like your nipples pinched.”
“Yes,” I say on a soft sigh.
“What else do you like?”
“Whatever you want to do to me.” The words fall off my tongue with no thought or effort.
I can’t deny the truth of them.
I’m here.
He’s here.
And he can do whatever he wants to me.
“Take off the rest of your clothes, Skye.”
“Are you going to take yours off?”
“Does it matter?”
I open my mouth to respond, but he stops me with a gesture.
“Undress.”
I swallow, my heart thundering, and I kick off my sandals and then unsnap and unzip my jeans. I slowly lower them over my hips and peel them off my legs until I’m standing only in my panties.
“Keep going,” he says.
I wiggle out of the panties and kick them a few feet away, next to Braden’s tie. I haven’t shaved my vulva in a few days. Will he be turned off by the ugly brown stubble?
“Very nice,” he says, licking his lips.
Apparently not turned off. Good.
“I can smell you,” he says. “You’re ripe. Wet. Aren’t you?”
I bite my lower lip. “Mm-hmm.”
“What did I tell you?” he says sternly. “About using the word?”
“Yes. Yes, I’m wet.”
“Who are you wet for, Skye?”
I clear my throat. “For you. I’m wet for you, Braden.”
He grabs me then and crushes our mouths together. My tongue wanders out to meet his in another raw kiss. Raw and beautiful. His full lips slide against mine as he plunders my mouth, and I want him to do the same to my body.
My belly flutters and nerves skitter across my skin. My pussy throbs in time with my rapid heartbeat.
Braden moves one hand seductively over my shoulder to my chest, cupping a breast and pinching a nipple. I inhale sharply, breaking our kiss just slightly for air. Then his hand travels downward, over my belly, to—
“Oh!”
He touches my clit gently…and then not so gently as he slides his fingers through my folds.
This time, he breaks the kiss. “So wet,” he growls in my ear. “I’m going to drive my cock into you, Skye. I’m going to drive so far into you that you’ll be sore tomorrow. Every time you move, you’ll think of me inside you, taking you, fucking you. You’ll know I was here.”
Chapter Nine
Before I can respond, I inhale sharply when he slides a finger into me.
“God, you’re so tight. I can’t wait to fuck you.”
I can’t wait, either, though his finger in my pussy feels pretty damned great. He has beautiful hands, long, thick fingers. Perfect for what he’s doing.
And he’s a master at it.
Maybe this time… Just maybe…
But I don’t want to think about that at the moment. I want to enjoy the pleasure, not stress out about what might not happen.
He continues to finger fuck me, adding another while working my clit with his thumb. My legs wobble, but he steadies me, keeping me in the perfect position for the delicious things he’s doing to me.
“Feel good, baby?”
“God, yes,” I sigh. “So good.”
He nips my earlobe with his teeth. “By the end of this night,” he whispers, “I promise this will be the least of what you remember.”
No. Not possible. I’ll never forget his fingers and how they find just the right spot to make me hotter and wetter than I’ve ever been.
Until he pushes me down on the bed, moves to spread my legs, and closes his eyes.
“I need to taste you.”
His tongue, soft against my own, is rougher against my clit, the perfect texture to make me squirm beneath him. I ache at the loss of his fingers, but as he tongues my folds, sliding from my clit to my perineum and back, I revel in the new, though less intense, pleasure.
Why not go slowly? Why not experience each touch in its own right?
He laps at me, licking the wetness from my inner thighs and then shoving his tongue into my heat. He seems to know instinctively when to go back to my clit and get me going again and again. I’m riding a roller coaster of pleasure—up and down and up and down, fast and slow and fast and slow and fast and slow…
Just when I think I’m about to explode, he brings me down again.
Can it happen? Can it really happen?
“God, you taste good,” he says against my thigh, his breath like a warm breeze.
I open my eyes. Something hangs above me on the ceiling over his bed, but I don’t dwell on it. I raise my head and look between my legs. “Are you ever going to undress?”
“In time,” he says again. “But if you ask again, I won’t.”
His voice is low, with more than an edge of dominance. I’m not sure how he’s going to fuck me with his clothes on, but I won’t ask again.
I close my eyes, ready for more of his mouth on me when—
“Oh!”
He flips me over like a pancake, so I’m facedown on the bed, my legs hanging off. He pins me in position. “Don’t you dare move.”
The clanking of his belt and then the zing of his zipper…
The tear of a wrapper… Curious, I turn to look at him.
He pushes me back down harshly. “I said don’t fucking move!” Then a low groan as he plunges deep into me.“Fuck, yeah.”
I haven’t seen his dick, but he must be huge by the way he fills me. I burn as he tunnels into me, and it’s a good burn. A really good burn.
His stubbled cheek scratches my jawline when he leans down, trapping me under him. “Don’t move, Skye
. I’ll stop if you do. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I whimper.
He sucks my earlobe between his teeth. “You’re so damned tight. Fuck, you feel good.”
He rises slightly, planting his hands on my shoulders—not hard enough to hurt but hard enough that I truly can’t move. I’m trapped, at his mercy. Completely under his spell.
My heart speeds up, anxiety setting in.
Get back in control. Get back in control.
But I can’t. I’m immobile.
And God, I’m totally loving it.
I’m not gagged. I can tell him to stop.
But I don’t.
Let your hair down, Skye.
Let go, let go, let go…
I close my eyes and surrender to the rapturous feelings taking over my body. Electricity sizzles around us, and I swear I can see it in my mind’s eye, feel it in my core.
Braden plunges in and out of me, slowly at first and then increasing his speed. The cotton of his shirt brushes my lower back as he pushes, pushes, pushes, and with each push, my clit abrades against the comforter, giving me jolt after jolt of magnetizing pleasure. His dick slides in and out, hitting spots inside me I never knew existed—spots that increase my pleasure, increase the energy swirling in my clit.
I grasp the comforter in my fists, still immobile, biting my bottom lip so hard I fear I draw blood.
Something’s different. I’ve been excited before, turned on before, but this is new, as if I’m running naked through a forest at dusk, reaching, reaching, reaching for a mysterious black bird that holds a secret I need. It flies closer and closer but then flaps away, always just a foot out of my grasp.
God, I’ve never felt this way.
“I’m going to come.” Braden thrusts and thrusts and thrusts. “Come with me, baby. Come with me.”
His words are a command—a command I can’t obey, except—
“Oh my God!” An intense and tingly heat begins in my core. My pussy shatters, warmth coursing through it, and I swear electricity surges through my veins and sizzles outward all the way to my fingers and toes. The roller coaster finally reaches the pinnacle and plunges me into nirvana. I pulse in time with him, each stroke, as he finishes inside me.
My whole body becomes one with Braden, with the bed, and with myself.
This.
This is what I’ve been missing.
This is what I’ve come so close to but never experienced—this intensity, this dreamy high.
What would Braden say if he knew this was my first orgasm ever?
Chapter Ten
I don’t have much time to ponder the complete wonder of what just happened. Braden pulls out, and I turn over to see what’s going on. My mind is luxuriating in the kaleidoscopic whirlwind of the climax when Braden finally rips off his own clothes.
And I gasp.
GQ didn’t do him justice.
The man is a fucking god.
His eyes are ablaze with blue fire as he looks down at me. His cock, though he just came, is nearly erect again sans condom. He must have disposed of it when he undressed.
“Move to the head of the bed,” he says. “Lie on your back and grab two of the rungs of the headboard.”
I stare at him—his glistening lips, his perfect chest with scattered black hair, his hard washboard abs, his black nest of curls encircling his huge cock.
“Now, Skye.”
I’m still intoxicated from the climax, but I hastily scoot backward as he demands, rest my head on one of his fluffy pillows, and grab the headboard.
“I’m not going to bind you,” he says.
Bind me? He was thinking of binding me? Oh, hell no! I let go of the headboard and meet his gaze, my own on fire.
“Grab the rungs,” he says calmly but darkly.
“No, I won’t. You can’t tie me up.”
“I think I just said I wasn’t going to.”
A strange sliver of disappointment edges through me. I shake it off.
“I—”
“Grab the rungs, Skye. Now.”
His voice. What is it about his voice that makes me want to obey him? To never question him? My God, if he asks me to do something illegal, I may just do it. That’s how hypnotizing his husky timbre is.
I grab the rungs.
“Good.” He scoots on the bed so he’s straddling me, his cock dangling at my mouth. “Get me hard again. Use that sexy mouth of yours.”
He wants a blow job. Of course. I never knew a man who didn’t want a blow job. That I can do. Braden is bigger than any man I’ve been with, but I’m pretty sure I can pull this off.
He pushes his cock between my lips slowly, letting me go at my own pace. When he hits the back of my throat, he’s only a little over halfway in. I let go of one rung to use my hand—
“Don’t let go!” he says through clenched teeth.
I want to tell him I can make it better for him if he’ll let me use my hand, but I can’t because my mouth is full of cock. I quickly re-grab the rung.
He still moves in and out of my mouth slowly. His erection has returned in full force, and I’m excited to get it inside me again, to do an instant replay of the most amazing several minutes of my life.
Tessa was right. An orgasm can’t be described.
“I enjoy sex,” I once told her. “Maybe I’m climaxing and I don’t realize it.”
“No,” she replied. “You’ll know when it happens.”
How had I ever doubted her?
Now that I’ve experienced the thing that has always eluded me, I want more. A lot more.
Braden finally removes his cock from my mouth and eases down my body. “Your tits are perfect,” he says, and then he sucks one between his lips while lightly pinching the other.
Goose bumps erupt on my flesh. My nipples feel as if they’ve never been touched before, as if Braden Black is the first man to ever tantalize them.
He sucks, nibbles, bites.
I squirm beneath him, circling my hips, searching for something to rub against my clit to relieve the pressure building in it again. My breasts are swollen and achy, and each tug on my nipples rushes straight to my pussy.
Braden sucks and bites, his stubble abrading my sensitive skin. How I long to run my fingers through his thick hair, smooth back the wet strands sticking to his forehead.
But I can’t let go. I can’t. I’m not bound, but I can’t.
I’m bound by Braden’s will, Braden’s strength. I don’t know what to think, but I know something in me…
Something in me likes it.
Something in me wants more.
I don’t like being contained. My fingers itch and tingle. They want to move, embed themselves in the silk of Braden’s locks.
I wiggle a finger. Yeah, I can still move them.
But I don’t.
No matter how much I want to. I don’t.
“You’re beautiful,” he says after releasing my nipple. He moves down my body, raining soft kisses on my belly and my vulva. “I want to eat you again, but damn, I need to get inside that hot pussy. Fuck.” He moves from the bed and returns with a condom.
“Let me do that,” I say.
He meets my gaze, his teeth clenched. “Don’t you fucking move.”
“Braden, I want to—”
“I said don’t move!”
I inhale sharply and look up, a sliver of fear edging through me. The thing above me finally comes into focus.
It’s some sort of contraption with pulleys and a harness.
I’m both frightened out of my mind and turned on beyond belief.
“I’m going to fuck you again, Skye, and this time, I’m going deep.”
He hadn’t gone deep last time? I swore I felt him pushing against my cervix. But he means business.
He maneuvers my legs over his shoulders, opening me.
Then he thrusts in.
Damn! I bite my lip to keep from shouting. Yes, he’s deeper this time. So deep. So good. I’m loose from the first time, and I’m wet as all get out, and still he burns through me as if his dick is made of fire.
“That’s good,” he grits out. “Sweet pussy. Sweet Skye.”
His shoulders are hard, bronze, and beautiful. My fingers ache to glide over them, down his back, and grab his perfectly shaped ass so I can push him farther and farther into me.
But I don’t let go of the rungs. I don’t let go.
It’s probably too much to ask for another climax. After all, one was a true surprise and a true gift. Another won’t—
“God, Braden!” I grasp the rungs with white knuckles as he pounds into me, grazing my clit with his pubic hair, his balls slapping against my ass.
My world spins as I continue moaning and screaming.
“That’s it, baby. Come. Come all over me. Come for me. Only me.”
His words become his voice, a simple vibration that takes me soaring over the harbor. Still he fucks me, harder and harder. The tingling intensity builds again, and I jump off the peak of the highest mountaintop.
“Fuck. Skye. Yes!”
He roars as he thrusts so deeply, I swear he’s touching the tip of my head. I pulse around him as he comes, our climaxes in perfect tandem.
Wow. Just wow. No drug can match this.
I meet his gaze, yearning to touch his face glistening with perspiration. Yearning for him to lower his lips to mine and kiss me—the perfect ending to the perfect fuck.
Instead, he rolls off me onto his back, one arm across his eyes.
And I wait.
Shouldn’t he say something? Should I say something? Finally, he moves off the bed, stands, and throws the condom in the trash. Then he bends down, picks up his pants, and takes his phone out of his pocket. Now will he say something?
When he doesn’t, I do. “Going to Instagram this, too?”
It sounded funny in my head, but now I just think it’s immature.
