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SevenMarkPackAttackMobi

Page 11

by Carys Weldon


  I sucked every drop of fluid she put out. And my cock dripped at about the same rate. I had to climb up between her legs and slide it in.

  Bouncing the head at her opening, I scooped her up in my arms and said, “Giselle, I’ve gotta get inside you now. Else I’m gonna spill on the floor.”

  Silently, she nodded, closing her eyes. “Do it.” She tensed for a moment as I pushed, just a little slide. The head popped in. We both groaned. I dropped my head to her breasts again.

  Her fingers skidded up my arms to my shoulders. She got a grip there and said, “All the way, Mark. One. Long. Thrust. Okay?”

  I didn’t need to be told twice. Once it was buried, I let her hang on. I felt her muscles convulse around me. And truth be told, it was all I could do to hang on. And that’s when I realized what a glorious, glorious fuck Giselle Racini was.

  Tight as shit, while I clung, she squeezed Kegals, pumping me. And then I couldn’t hold back. In long, deep and fast strokes, I fucked her--smoothly, fully, until she was screaming again. Well, moaning.

  I collapsed on top of her. I may have passed out. She held me some more.

  That’s the thing about Giselle, she makes you feel at home in her arms. It was okay to sleep there. Everything was okay with her.

  There’s no telling when I rolled to my back, or pulled from her womanhood, for that matter. But I woke up with her soft hair spread over my chest, and my arm around her, holding her to me.

  I remember having to take a minute to realize where I was, and who I was with, and then staring up at the ceiling. There was nothing in my chest. No urge to go again. No urge to leave. But it felt good to have a woman in my arms. I thought she was asleep.

  She wasn’t, though. The minute my breathing changed, I felt her moving, sliding along my torso toward my manhood. She examined it at length, while I watched. She picked it up, measured it against the height of her hand. She couldn’t quite get her hand around it. She tried, though. Squeezed it until I was almost blue down there. The head swelled up.

  Giselle surprised me more by slipping over me. Frissons of sensation crawled like electricity through my legs. It felt like a movie. She came to rest with my cock between her breasts, the head at her chin, looking up at me with a grin.

  “Now, as I see it, you had a...fantasy or something a little bit ago.” She moved, creating friction between her breasts and my manhood.

  I laughed a little and tried to pull her up. “No need to do that, honey.”

  But she said, “Wait. This’ll help.” And her mouth, warm and wet, pulled me in, went down the shaft, and it was me writhing on the bed in no time. But she’s so good at it that she knew when to stop, when I right there on the edge. Like a pup, she climbed up over me and sat on my belly, her fingers rifting through my chest hair.

  “I’m worried about Bark,” she said.

  Talk about your mood spoiler. I agreed, “Me, too.”

  I felt the slickness between her legs seeping out. Our juices filled the air. I rolled her to her back. She squealed and giggled. And I thought, she’s fun.

  It was a good sensation, something I needed. I sat on her just the way she’d done me, except I didn’t put my weight down on her. I let my cock lie in its heavy fullness between her tits. “Look what you started...again.”

  Unrepentant, she licked her lips. In feigned innocence, she asked, “What?”

  “You know what.”

  She grinned, rolled her eyes and said, “Talk dirty to me, Mark.”

  I shook my head.

  She said, “Ask me to suck you.”

  I shook my head again.

  “At least...tell me what you like when I do it.”

  Giselle took me into her mouth again. And I groaned. “Okay. Okay,” I said. “I like that.” Hell yeah, I really like that.

  I pushed her boobs together and got the titty fucking sensation at the same time she did my head. It was all she could do to stretch her lips around it. And I wondered if she could taste us. I knew she could. But I still wondered. And I thought, do you like the way it tastes?

  Sure I do.

  The door slammed open...just as I began to spurt into her mouth. You’d have thought she would stop the action. But she continued gulping and sucking. And I couldn’t stop a thing, I was that far in.

  Chapter Ten

  Hood commanded, “Enough!”

  I reached down, gripped my cock, squeezed off the last of the round fast, and pulled, but Giselle grazed her teeth, like she didn’t want to let go. For a split second, I exchanged a look with her--my confusion, and her wide eyed...what? Pleasure? No. Satisfaction. I climbed off of her.

  That moment kind’ve stands alone in time.

  There was barely suppressed fury on Hood’s face, but it wasn’t aimed at me at all. If he’d come at me, I would have understood it completely. But he didn’t.

  I didn’t even see him move, he leaped toward the bed so fast. And I’ve got good eyes. He reached down and yanked her from the bed by her wrist, and dragged her toward the bathroom, kicking the door shut behind them. She didn’t dig in, fight or scream, or yell out. If she had, I might have stopped it. Somehow, I knew that was what she’d been aiming for. Only, I think there was a part of her that had hoped he’d come in during the half time. It wasn’t until later that I registered the obvious bite marks on her upper back/shoulder area that I saw just as he hauled her into the other room. It stood out, light red against her lily-white skin.

  I looked around for my clothes.

  Amber peeked in, looked me up and down, and said, “She earn her money?” Her gaze keyed in on my limp dick.

  “You’re a bitch,” I said, turning my back, pulling on my pants. But I felt a slight stirring in the groin, just from her perusal. The whole thing was messed up.

  “Mm.”

  Glancing over my shoulder at Amber, I noted that her eyes had closed and she was shamelessly listening in on whatever was going on behind the closed door.

  It pissed me off. I don’t know why. I said, “Fuck that shit.”

  I didn’t bother to get anything else on. I pushed past her, and served myself up another drink. A double.

  Frank was nowhere in sight. I asked, “Where’s my little shit of a cousin?”

  “You mean Frank?” Amber shrugged, rolling her back on the door frame between the rooms, watching me now. “He had things to do.”

  She winced over something she heard between Hood and Giselle and very briefly, I wondered what it was. But really, I didn’t care. And frankly, I felt a little used.

  And not as satisfied as you’d think.

  “Yeah?” I downed my first and poured another, wincing as number one hit my belly with a thud. “Like what?”

  “Buy you some clothes, I think.” The second drink I looked into, swirled it around. I rubbed my face with my free hand. I had Giselle all over me. I could still taste her.

  Amber’s gaze narrowed. I saw her nostrils tighten. She taunted me, “So, it appears that you’re not always a minute man.”

  “Oh...Christ.” I’m not a Christian. I use it as a swear word...when I don’t believe my ears. And if you are one, sorry. A lot of us do it. It helps us fit in with the real Christians. They swear by him all the time. And that’s no judgment, just a fact. I swear by Gaia, too. And do believe in her.

  “You were in there a long time.”

  Fucking mother earth. See?

  I growled, “And I bet you can smell it, too.” Then I swallowed the whole second drink without another thought.

  “You better go easy. Hood wants you to stand up for him.”

  “What?”

  “At the wedding.” She glanced at her watch, then over her shoulder toward where Hood and Giselle were. She’d screamed once or twice, but it didn’t sound like sex to me. I told myself it was none of my business. With Giselle, it was hard to tell, ya know? Unless you were looking her in the eye.

  That satisfaction came back to me, made me, too, look in the direction of the soon
to be married couple. I had a feeling he was scrubbing her down, inside and out. And giving her a taste of...his medicine. I poured another drink and said, “This is totally fucked up.”

  Amber dropped onto one of the sofas, watching me. “What’s got you all hot and bothered? I’d think you’d be feeling like...oh...the cat who ate the canary.”

  I stared in my third drink and said, “Is that what you think?”

  “Don’t tell me Giselle wasn’t any good. I heard it all. You didn’t have any trouble coming for her. More than once.”

  Looking over my glass at her, I said, “Did it ever occur to you that some things are meant to be private?”

  “Sorry, I don’t have that luxury. It’s all my business...when it’s loud enough to scream.”

  I threw at her, “You just wish I’d make you scream.”

  She stared me down, not answering, not flinching. Seconds passed before she replied, “Maybe you just want me to wish that.”

  Letting out a little laugh, I said, “Right.”

  Like I didn’t. Like I wasn’t thinking at the moment that I’d like to compare the difference between Giselle’s tight white ass and Amber’s much more cushioned, more intriguing folds.

  She must’ve read my mind. A grin of knowingness crossed her features. She even readjusted, teasing, spreading her legs.

  I sniffed the air--to see if Hood or Frank had been at her while I was...disposed. They hadn’t. But it made her laugh outright. She tossed her head back, mouth to the air, and enjoyed herself, fully, at my expense.

  It pissed me off, to tell the truth. I don’t know why. I asked, “Did your orgasm pill wear off?”

  She ignored the question. Instead, she said, “You know, for a natural that’s supposed to have great genetic make-up, I find you sadly lacking in brain skills.”

  I set my glass down and put both hands on the bar counter, resting my weight, trying to figure her out. Why did she keep up with the put-downs?

  Amber replied to my thought, “That’s what I’m talking about. You could read my mind. I’m not blocking anything from you, but you’re lazy.”

  “Maybe lazy isn’t the word.”

  “No?”

  “Try...uninterested.”

  She laughed again. “Bullshit.”

  “You think you can read my mind?”

  Snorting, Amber looked out the oversized picture window. The lights of Vegas, neon of all color, sparkled against an indigo skyline. My gaze followed hers. She was right, actually. I was lazy at reading minds. When you can hear people’s thoughts, it clutters up your own. It takes work, sometimes, to sort it out. I saved that effort for when I was doing my job. In off hours, I guess, I made a point of not digging into other people’s brains. Like I used a shut-off mechanism.

  Picking up my glass, topping it off, I moved in and sat down opposite her. I said, “Maybe you could learn something from me.”

  “How so?”

  Read my mind, honey. It works both ways, you know.

  She sniffed and averted her eyes to the view again.

  I may be a little lousy at blocking my thoughts, but I’m not too shabby at blocking yours.

  Bullshit.

  I’m sorry. Did you say something? Because, if you did, I didn’t hear it.

  Amber crossed her arms, then put her feet up on the coffee table and crossed her ankles, too. She rolled a little to one side, still staring out--at nothing.

  Aloud, I said, “You know, one of the problems I find in the pack is that too many people are worried about what the others are thinking. Maybe we should be more concerned with what they’re doing.”

  She groused, “By listening, you can figure that out.”

  “By watching the body language, you can learn a whole lot more.”

  Really? What’s mine saying to you now?

  I smiled. Her body language was giving off the “don’t touch me, don’t bother me” signal, but I could feel her probing my thoughts. I blocked that. I spread my legs, put my toes up on the other side of the coffee table, and scratched. “I need a shower.”

  That got me a sideways glance. “I’ll say.”

  Sometimes I like to bask in the odor of a woman all over me.

  She flinched, then pretended like it was just a twitch before rearranging. What it was, though, I could smell--was an effort at not releasing the juice of interest between her legs.

  Really, I was tired. Tired of trauma, intrigue, and jet lag. I leaned my head back, closed my eyes and pictured myself back on the tundra...before I found out that my brother had gone missing. Before my life had gotten complicated beyond belief.

  Icy cold winds. Freezing temperature spiking up through my thick boots. Nothing but white for miles.

  “Mm. That’s nice. Isn’t it?”

  Opening one eye, I peeked over at her. “You like that?”

  “Nothing around for miles. No one. You tell me if I’d like that.”

  I guess so.

  You’d guess right.

  Going back to the memory, I rested my mind, my body. And she went with me, to that little fantasy winter wonderland. I felt her there, almost as if she’d been beside me at the time.

  We could have fallen asleep like that, enjoying the respite from everything else. But Frank came in, crinkling bags from the Forum--the shopping plaza below the hotel. In a second, he took stock of things. Like a ferret with its head up, he listened to the far room--where Hood and Giselle still resided, and took in us, on the sofas across from one another.

  Then he wrinkled his nose and said, “You better get your ass in the shower before they come out of there. Hood won’t want reminders.”

  “I told him he stank.” Amber’s body language changed in an instant. She peeled herself off the couch and asked, “What’d ya get?”

  I got up, too. “Amber said you went to get me some clothes. Thought I should wait until I had some clean ones to change into.”

  She said, “Why don’t you go ahead and get in the shower. I’ll bring them into you.”

  Frank said, “Get your others out of that room first.”

  All three of us looked toward that bedroom doorway. From there, my shirt, slung, was visible. I went for it.

  When I had all the rest of my things in arm, I paused to listen to the bathroom couple. The shower stopped running. He asked her, “You won’t mind, then, if I spend a little time with Amber later?”

  Giselle sighed. “No. Do what you need to do, Hood. It doesn’t matter to me.”

  I felt silence stretch between them. Heard the scratch of towel on skin. I got out of there.

  Going through to another bathroom, I dropped my things on the floor, turned on a cold shower. Let me pants fall, and stepped in. Hood had plans to fuck Amber.

  Putting my hands above me, I leaned forehead to the wall and let the sheet of cold slide over my back. I don’t know why I cared. I mean, I’d just met her. What did it matter to me?

  It did, though. My abdomen tightened up. My ass cheeks squeezed together. And I felt like pounding the wall.

  The door clicked. I didn’t move. I felt her out there. I did, however, block my thoughts. “Just leave them there, on the counter, thanks.”

  I heard the rustle of clothing, hers, as she put them down. When she didn’t leave right away, I turned my head to look at her. The shower curtain was clear.

  “I hear through walls, you know.”

  “Doesn’t everybody?” I pushed myself off the wall then, and reached for the hotel supplied soap, unwrapped it and started rubbing it across my chest.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  What? There aren’t enough bathrooms in the place? I said, “Suit yourself.”

  “If it bugs you, I can go to another room. I just thought...since you had the water going....”

  “Climb in. I could use someone to scrub my back.” I ducked my head, running water over it. I peeked when she started to undress.

  Here’s the thing about Amber. She doesn’t have any inhibiti
ons. She isn’t shy about her body. When she exposed herself fully, I turned toward her and looked. She sort of stood there, waiting for what I thought. Hoping I’d say something, aloud or in my head. Some judgment. I’m guessing...something she could jump on and use against me.

  Her body is a series of layers. Rolls of flesh and dimples. Maybe some men find that repulsive. All I wanted was to pull it close to me. To feel it against my body. To rest my head against her chest. And to feel her arms around me.

  She gave me a small smile and said softly, “Coming in. Better move over, big guy.”

  I backed into the corner by the spray. Then I reached up and adjusted the nozzle.

  Immediately, she squealed. I’d forgotten how cold it was. I had to laugh at the way she jumped around, even though I was trying to adjust the temp as fast as I could. Of course, when you want to do it fast, you always mess it up. It went from freezing to burning. She let out another scream. And I got it right--on the cool side of tepid. But after the other, it felt good to her.

  She accused, “You did that on purpose.”

  “You’d think that.”

  Amber tipped her head back and let the shower get her straight in the face. The droplets splattered, and she pushed the liquid up and through her hair. With her eyes closed like that, and her body arched, I could resist...I tweaked a nipple.

  She jumped and frowned at me. “Stop that.”

  Holding my hands up innocently, I asked, “What? I didn’t do a thing.”

  She rolled her eyes at me, of course and went back to what she was doing. I watched as she reveled in the feel of coolness running over her body. She said, “It’s pretty damn hot out there.”

  “Yeah, it is.” I reached for a washcloth and lathered it up. Without invitation, I put the soapy cloth to her front.

  It startled her, but she moved to me a little bit and let me have at it.

  I’ve showered with other women before. I’ve rubbed them down and had them scrub me, too. But what I did for Amber there was more for me than her. It felt more like worship. I went over every inch of her body, and slid that cloth into every crevice and fold, as gently as I could. I went down on my knees, wiping from her thighs down to her ankles.

 

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