by Sabrina York
Then he froze. He pulled back and glared at her teddy.
“Enough of this.” He deftly lifted the garment over her head and tossed it over his shoulder. “Ah, yes,” he breathed as he came face to breast with her bounty. “And this.”
He tugged the pins out of her hair one by one until the bun released. Her long tresses cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. He stared at her, his mouth slightly agape.
“Ah, Kat.” He cupped her breast through a handful of hair and stroked her gently, reverently. He dragged a rough thumb over her tender flesh.
She cried out and arched toward him.
He brushed a soft tendril across a nipple, bent his head, took her in his mouth and sucked.
“God!” She grabbed his head and held him there. The sensation was intense, delightful, painfully arousing and sweet all at the same time. Frantically, like a ravenous beast, he moved from one breast to the other until she wept and cajoled and begged for mercy.
His hand slipped down and he traced her nether lips as well. Still sensitive from the earlier tongue lashing, she winced. It wasn’t enough. It was far too much. She needed… She wanted…
Yes. His fingers slipped inside her and she breathed a moan of relief. He felt so good. So…
But she needed more.
She broke away. Holding his gaze, she lay back on the table. “In me,” she demanded. “Now.”
She couldn’t wait any longer. She simply could not.
Apparently he was just as wild for her. Within a heartbeat, he was on her. He yanked down his sweatpants and slipped on a condom he had secreted in his pocket, and he nudged against her. And oh.
Oh.
He was huge.
Katherine groaned as the tip of his cock prodded the mouth of her slick pussy. And in. He moved so slowly, making the sensation even more intense. Hard as a rock, he wedged himself deeper and deeper. Relentlessly, he stretched her wide. She closed her eyes, allowed the sensation to swamp her.
“No,” he gasped. “Open your eyes. Please. I want to see you.”
She opened her eyes and looked at him, half-blinded with bliss. This was Adam. The man she had dreamed about. The man she had ached for. The man she had loved from afar for so long. Adam was in her. She could barely believe it.
“Does that feel good?” His tone was harsh, savage.
“Yes.” She was incapable of higher thought. “Yes.”
“What do you want?” He pulled out a little so he could get more leverage before sinking in even deeper.
She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist, holding him tighter, pulling him closer. “More. More.”
“Ah, yeah.” He pressed deeper and deeper still until he was seated fully within her. “You’re so tight. You feel so good.”
She loved the feel of him, the fullness, the hardness, the little uncontrollable bobbles his cock made as he tried to go so slow. But she was getting restless. An ache had begun deep in her core and now the fullness was not nearly satisfying enough. She kissed him on his soft, full lips, on his bristly cheek, his neck. She nibbled on his ear. When he shivered at that, sucked in a harsh breath, she whispered, “Fuck me, Savage. Fuck me hard.”
He stilled. His cock jerked inside her as her comment percolated in his lust-flown brain.
And then fuck her, he did.
He went a little feral, pounding into her like a beast on fire until they were both panting and moaning and writhing. Impatiently, he picked her up and shifted her gently onto the floor, where he changed his angle and fucked her some more.
Finally he flipped her over and took her from behind, slipping in bit by bit until he was buried to the hilt. Then he secured his leverage and let go in a frantic rhythm. He held her hips in a tight grip and barreled in and out of her, reveling in the quivers of her cunt around his cock and the sharp slap of flesh against flesh with every thrust. He gloried in the cries that fell from her beautiful mouth and the way the sweat tasted when he licked it from her back. She urged him on, glancing over her shoulder and grunting encouragement, praise and gentle threats.
God. She was gorgeous. Glorious. Magnificent. Hot.
As his orgasm neared, as he felt the telltale tightening of his cock and balls, the swelling that spelled an imminent explosion, he reached around and stroked her, pinching her nipples and rubbing her fat clit until she clenched and screamed and bucked against him.
As sweet completion descended, he sighed. “Finally,” he said into her ear. “Finally, Kat. You’re mine.” And he meant it.
Chapter Nine
It was a long time before they recovered. He held her hard against him, spooning on the carpet as they both fought for breath, for balance.
He’d known their joining would be phenomenal. He simply had not expected, could never have expected, that.
Put simply, it had been the most satisfying lay of his life. He felt like a new man. She had given herself to him. Katherine Hart, a woman who was extraordinarily discriminating in her partners, had given herself to him. Completely. It humbled him. She’d met him in his crazed passion every step of the way, urging him on to greater heights. They were absolutely, undeniably, perfectly matched.
As soon as he recuperated, he wanted to do it again. And again. But refueling might take a while, as she had literally drained him dry.
He sighed with contentment. “You okay?” He buried his face in her hair, reveling in the delirious scent. Unbound and riotous, it snaked softly around them both.
“Mmm.” She nudged her supple ass against his pelvis. Even drained dry as he was, it felt wonderful. She turned so she could see his face. “I do have one question though.”
He bent his head and kissed her lightly then kissed her some more before responding. “What’s that?”
“Exactly what were you planning to do with that ice?” They shared a grin. By now it was surely melted all over the countertop.
He chuckled. “You’ll just have to wait for next time.”
“Oh?” She flipped over to face him and drew a line down his chest. “There’s going to be a next time?”
“There will be if I have anything to say about it.” His growl was playful. Kind of.
Her sultry expression lit a cauldron of heat in his gut. Her lips curved into an impish smile. “I have a thought.”
“Really?” Doubtless, her thoughts on the subject would be intriguing.
“How about,” she leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “a bed?”
“Mmm.” A bed sounded particularly inviting at the moment. He leapt up and pulled her to her feet. Once there, once she stood naked and facing him, he couldn’t resist pulling her close again, to stroke her soft skin, to test the sweet flesh of her ass. God, how he loved the feel of her.
She peered up at him with slumberous eyes. Her features were blurred and soft. Her hair curled in unruly waves around her shoulders. He fisted the glorious mass.
“I see why you always wear it up.” He brought a skein to his nose and breathed deeply, drawing in her elusive scent.
“Because it’s a mess?” She laughed.
“No. Because every man in the office would be fantasizing about this.” He held up a handful of hair, a silken whip.
“No they wouldn’t.” She glanced away.
He tipped her chin back up. “Yes. They would. What man could catch a glimpse of this and not imagine wrapping your hair around his cock?”
Her eyes widened as though she’d never thought of such a thing. “No!”
“I’m fantasizing about it right now.”
“Are you?” In a heartbeat she went from blind innocent to sultry seductress. Her hand drifted to his quickly reawakening cock.
Her touch on his flesh was like a brand and he groaned with the pleasure of it. Sure, he was drained. Sure, he was sexually exhausted, completely sated. But her touch, her attention, her intent, was akin to giving an old car a jump with supercharged battery cables.
He was hard in a breath.
&
nbsp; “What would you do?” Her purr was, really, more of a dare.
“Come on.” He tugged her toward the bedroom. Any bedroom would do. “Let’s go find out.”
Adam survived their second session but just barely. Katherine’s newly discovered creativity in the bedroom nearly killed him. And it wasn’t just what she did, the way she explored every inch of his flesh with her nimble fingers and questing tongue, ah, what a sweet, talented tongue. It wasn’t the way she brought him to the edge and held him there, wickedly teasing him and mercilessly drawing out his pleasure until his toes curled.
It was her whispers. As she worked on him, as she tormented him, she whispered to him, into his ear, into his soul. Those whispers kept him endlessly flirting with the little death, dancing on the sharp edge of sanity and satiety.
And then, finally, she mounted him. When he was so close to insensate he wasn’t sure he could be trusted to accurately give his name, she laid him on his back, arms over his head, and levered her sweet body over his. She sank onto his hard staff. He slipped in much more easily this time because she’d been so thoroughly fucked already. She was slick and her muscles were relaxed after so vigorous a massage. As she closed around him, hot and wet, he clenched his muscles and gritted his teeth to keep from thrusting up, deep and hard.
This time it was her turn.
Once he was deeply seated in her pussy, she placed her hands on his chest and leaned forward, testing. He groaned as her muscles flexed around him.
“Jesus,” he hissed.
“Do you like that?” Her eyes were wide, her expression ingenuous.
How could it be that a woman could whisper the wicked things she’d uttered, weave such lurid and evocative fantasies in his mind and still naïvely have no clue what she was doing to him?
A queer suspicion flowered within him. “Have you done this before?”
She shook her head, sending that glorious mane dancing across his thighs. He groaned and writhed beneath her. Eager, inquisitive, she tested again, trying another angle and yet another. She drew her pelvis in a wide circle, stretching and exercising his cock with the motion. It was fan-fucking-tastic but Adam couldn’t allow himself to be distracted by such bliss. At least, not yet.
“Your other partners never begged you to ride them?” Unthinkable. So far, this was almost his favorite thing, of all the things they’d tried. Almost.
She snorted—he felt it all the way down to his balls—but she didn’t answer. She merely tried another tantalizing angle. He arched his back to encourage more of that but she’d already moved on. Fortunately, the next position was equally exquisite.
With pleasure, he watched her move. The play of her abdominal muscles as she rode him, the fall of her hair with each stroke, the pert stand of her breasts as they undulated with her—all delightful to watch. The urge was growing within him to firmly grasp her hips and force her movements to meet his swelling need. He’d nearly had enough of this teasing torment but first he wanted his answer.
“Tell me.” He thrust up to meet her downward slide and she gasped, flushed.
She quivered around him and he knew, even as she’d been pleasuring him, she’d been pleasuring herself, riding him to completion. The thought made him want to crow. It made him want to explode. He tightened his balls in an attempt to stave off his climax.
Panting, he demanded once more, “Tell me.”
She blinked. “What was the question?”
He growled. “Your other partners. I want to know. I need to…”
Jesus. What was that? She’d moved, twitched, done…something that sent electric currents zinging up every nerve.
“Do that again.” An order. A plea. And she did. “Oh God.” His eyes rolled back in his head and he writhed beneath her.
She did it—whatever it was—again. And again and again. She rode him, smiling the whole time as he moaned in helpless rapture.
She was killing him.
But in the nicest way.
Finally he grasped her hips and held her still. He met her eyes and asked her once more—a final time—with desperate finality. “Tell me.”
He wasn’t sure what he wanted to hear about her previous partners, wasn’t sure he should want to know about them but he couldn’t deny the dire need to learn about her past. Her sexual past. Hell, her romantic past. And what kind of idiot was he to demand such answers now. Now. For Christ’s sake, so close to utter bliss?
She leaned forward and pressed her magnificent breasts against his chest and kissed him gently. She was warm, slightly damp from her exertions. He loved the feel of her skin against his, the weight of her body, the taste of her breath. She flexed her internal muscles making him whimper, and she whispered, “It was nothing like this. Never.”
“How many?” Why did he want to know? What was he, a sadist? But he did want to know. Needed to know. Desperately.
She bent her head and took his nipple into her mouth. She suckled him gently, let him go with a loud pop. “There were three but the last one doesn’t count.” She tried to move against him, to distract him perhaps, but he held her immobile. He wanted his answers and then she could return to her—their—play.
“Why doesn’t he count?”
“It was only once,” she answered shortly.
He suspected there was more. “And?” She glanced away and he sensed he was losing her, so he stroked her nipples, making soft circles around them until she met his gaze. Then he pinched. Gently, but it was a clear message.
She drew in a breath—he knew she’d liked the pinch because he’d felt it resound through her body. And his.
“And?”
“And he laughed at me.” She said it softly, a mere breath, but he heard it and it scored his soul.
He pulled her down and pressed his lips against hers. “Idiot.” He was an idiot, that pathetic one-timer.
“I asked him to…do something. And he laughed at me.”
“I hope you kicked him to the curb.” Adam studied her expression. He was relieved to see her smile at his intensity. “What did you want him to do?”
She jerked back. A wall loomed up between them, which was odd because they were still joined. He was hard inside her. He could feel her every breath around his cock.
“Katherine.” He tugged her back into his embrace. “Kat, you don’t have to tell me. But you have to understand, I would never laugh at you. I would certainly never deny you anything.” He’d do anything for her. He would.
What a frightening thought.
He stroked her as he spoke to her, a calming, seductive touch. “Surely you see, what we have goes far deeper than what you had with Dumbshit?”
She chuckled, sending reverberations throughout his body. “Dumbshit?”
“Yeah. That’s his new name.”
She laughed again and sat up, reenergized and returning to task. “All right.” She moved her hips, a lurid, agonizing rhythm. Up, down, around and squeeze. Up, down, around and squeeze. By the third gyration, Adam was panting and mindless again.
He hissed as she increased her tempo.
“Do you want to know what I asked for?” She was punishing him in Dumbshit’s place, lashing at him with hair and cunt, pinching his nipples and nipping at his neck. She was punishing him for another man’s sins and he couldn’t have been happier. “Do you?”
“Yes,” he growled, grasping her hips and forcing a faster pace. Faster, deeper, wilder, she rode.
“I asked him…” She snarled her passion as she took herself higher and higher. Her breath came in hot, hard, rhythmic pants.
Adam fixated on the vision of her breasts bobbing before him. God. She was glorious. He rubbed her nipple with his palm. Then both. When she looked at him with a certain pleading expression in her eyes, he knew what she wanted, what she was too shy to ask for. And he complied.
He tugged her nipple, squeezed, pinched. She cried out. A wash of dampness bathed his cock and he surged up into her. She grabbed his shoulder, his hair and
clenched for a better hold on him. Her fingers dug into his flesh. He loved it.
“Tell me,” he demanded, although he already knew. His body hummed with excitement, anticipation.
“I asked him…” she said again, breathless and half crazed with wanting. She tightened around him, making him want to thrust deeper, to grind her pelvis, her labia, her clit, against the hard surface of his pubis until she whimpered and shivered.
“Tell me.”
“I asked him to tie me up.”
Aroused beyond bearing, Adam came. He roared as a wave of triumph crashed over him, as his cum exploded in ragged jerks into her pussy, flooding her with his cream. She milked him, coming herself in massive, cathartic sobs that racked her frame.
As he returned to himself, he held her, still quivering and twitching in the aftermath of ecstasy. He held her and whispered sweet nothings into her ear, peppered her with tender kisses and wiped away her tears. Then he pulled back and met her eyes with a smile. “I knew it,” he murmured exultantly.
And he had.
They slept in a tangle of warm limbs.
Katherine was the first to awake but she didn’t rise. She couldn’t bring herself to disengage from such heaven. For what? Breakfast?
Not a chance.
With a satisfied smile, she nuzzled deeper and Adam, with a sleepy snort, tugged her closer.
How delightful, she thought. How delightful it had all been.
She loved his masterful demeanor in their lovemaking. And she loved that he’d allowed her to take the lead as well. She loved that he hadn’t laughed at her silly fantasy to be tied up. She’d seen it in a movie once—a pirate movie—and somewhere in her adolescent mind, the fantasy had nested and later bloomed. Her husband Greg had been a methodical man. Their lovemaking had been a by-the-book proposition. Though she’d suggested trying new things, he hadn’t been interested.
She’d met Stu shortly after the divorce. She’d found him attractive and, thinking herself savvy and sexually adventurous—not to mention footloose and fancy-free—she’d responded to his advances. It had been an unmitigated disaster.
