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Get Your Sexy On

Page 4

by Kimberky Kaye Terry


  me go.µ She whispered the words.

  Ćome home with me.µ

  The quiet demand in his voice brooked no argument. Helpless, she gazed up at him. Í can·t³µ

  ´Yes, you can. Just say yes,µ he returned, and the light from the moon cast a sensual luster to his

  stern, handsome features.

  ´Please,µ he added.

  He pulled her into his arms, holding her briefly. She buried her nose in the vee of his neck and

  breathed in his spicy masculine scent, wanting, needing, this man for this space of time. His hand came

  out to stroke the top of her head, reassuring in its

  casualness.

  She leaned back in his embrace and studied his face. His chiseled chin, the hard line of his jaw, and

  the strong, yet sensual, curve of his lips conjured up hot images of the two of them, naked, bodies twined

  as he made love to her.

  No, he wouldn·t make love to her. That was too tame, and he was far too hard of a man to do anything tame. He·d devour her.

  He·d pin her down to the bed and rock into her, relentlessly.

  She

  wouldn·t be able to do anything but allow him to have his way with her in any way he chose.

  Sienna knew she would

  surrender, welcome his every heated demand. This moment had been building

  for a week, one that was

  inevitable, destined to happen from the moment he·d come to the Sweet Kitty.

  She made a decision, and she refused to delve into the reasons for it. She chose to only listen to her

  heart, for once, and nothing else. If only for one night, he would be hers.

  ´Yes,µ she finally answered.

  He pulled her toward him and covered her mouth with his. His hard mouth slanted over hers in a hot,

  turgid kiss. As quickly as he began to devour her mouth, he released her.

  Her eyes locked with his. His face was starkly highlighted against the light gleaming from the moon

  and the harsh lights in the parking lot. The look on his face was frightening in its intensity.

  Sienna felt like

  running fast and far away from the hot promise in his light gray eyes.

  He must have read her intent.

  He gathered her beneath the shelter of his arms and, with her in tow,

  briskly walked back toward his SUV.

  Í·ll drive. We can pick up your car later.µ

  8

  ´T hank you,µ Sienna murmured when Mac removed her coat and, along with his leather jacket, hung

  both inside the closet near the front door.

  Sienna walked farther into the living area and placed her bag on the oversized white sofa.

  ´Your home

  is beautiful.µ

  ´Thanks. But it·s temporary digs for me,µ he replied, and leaned against the door frame,

  observing

  her.

  His intent stare unnerved her and she caught herself

  fidgeting, playing with the strands of hair on her

  wig, before stopping herself.

  ´Temporary?µ

  ´Yes. I don·t live in this area.

  Just here on business.µ He peeled himself from the wall and walked

  toward her.

  ´What type of business?µ

  Í·m a private investigator. My partner, Kyle, and I were here on a case. We were put up in these

  accommodations from our

  client. But he·s out. For the weekend.µ

  The clarification didn·t go over her head. He wanted her to know that they·d be alone for the

  weekend.

  Ćan I get you something?

  Food? Drink?µ he murmured, the heat from his body reaching out to

  cocoon her in its warm

  embrace.

  She licked suddenly dry lips.

  Śomething to drink³

  nonalcoholic³would be nice.µ

  ´Why don·t you sit down.µ He waved a hand, indicating for her to choose somewhere to sit amongst

  the comfortable-looking chairs and sofas scattered throughout the large room. Í think I have something in

  the fridge. I·ll be right back.µ

  She glanced around the

  tastefully furnished, if sterile, room. She wasn·t surprised that it wasn·t his

  home. It didn·t fit his

  personality. Sienna imagined the place Mac called home would be much less puttogether,

  yet just as appealing. It would be ruggedly attractive, much like he was.

  Various prints were mounted and framed, carefully arranged around the room. Glass

  knickknacks were

  set on the built-in shelves and lined the mantle of the

  whitewashed brick fireplace.

  Instead of sitting down, Sienna roamed the room and ran careful fingers over the art on the walls.

  Áll I have is apple juice and milk. Hope the juice is okay.µ

  Mac interrupted her perusal of the beautiful

  print she was admiring.

  ´That·s fine.µ She accepted the juice he held out for her. Despite the flutters in her stomach, she sat

  down next to him on one of the small love seats and placed her drink on the table in front of them.

  Sienna reached for her drink.

  His large hand covered hers and brought it to his mouth. He opened

  her palm and placed a hot kiss directly in the center.

  ´You don·t have to be nervous.

  I·m going to take care of you, Sin.µ

  Mac pulled her closer and slanted his lips over hers, completely covering her mouth.

  After what had

  transpired between the two of them during her lap dance, he·d been as horny as his seventeen-year-old

  randy nephew.

  Despite what happened in the club in front of that asshole, Damian Marks, Mac knew it had been

  more than a dance, more than a grind, for her as well.

  He·d felt her slight body tremble, quivering, as she danced in his lap, grinding her body against his

  cock, and had witnessed the complete ecstasy in her eyes as the orgasm burned through her.

  He·d been seconds away from coming as well³to hell with whoever was looking. For once, he·d been

  as caught up in a woman, a moment, as the woman he·d been pleasuring. Even if it had been in public, in

  full view of anyone who

  happened to glance their way.

  Damn.

  He didn·t know if he·d ever been that turned on. Not since he·d been a grown man, at any rate.

  Had it

  not been for his concern for her, his desire to shield her from gawkers, he wouldn·t have given a damn who

  saw what he was doing to her in the club. What she had been doing to him.

  And now he planned on finishing what they started.

  He pushed her down on the sofa and covered her body with his, not giving up the connection of her

  lush, beautiful lips with his.

  He tunneled his fingers through her hair, pulled her head tighter, closer. ´Why are you still wearing

  this?µ he asked, pulling on the wig.

  Í can take it off.µ She sounded hesitant, almost shy. With a brief nod, he asked her to remove the

  wig.

  She pulled out several pins and removed the wig. She wore her dark hair short. The thick curls softly

  framing her face made her look younger than she did in the heavy makeup and fake hair she wore while

  dancing.

  ´God, this is the wrong time to ask this, but how old are you?µ

  He held his breath. Shit! If she wasn·t

  legal, no matter how much he wanted to make love to her, there was no way in hell he·d have sex with a

  minor.

  Her startled laughter rang out.

  Ńo fears. I·m definitely over the age of consent. I can show you ID if
r />   you need it.µ Despite his raging hard-on, Mac felt like laughing at her quip.

  Ńo, I·ll take your word for it,µ he said, and pulled her full, bottom rim between his teeth and sucked

  it, pulled on it, bit it, licked it, and shoved his tongue into the moist cavern of her mouth.

  ´Damn, your mouth is sweet.µ

  He broke away from her. He·d wanted to take it slow with her, as slow

  as he could. But he couldn·t. He needed to feel her, naked and writhing, beneath him.

  Mac watched her closely as he unbuttoned her blouse and unclipped the front closure of her bra. He

  stifled a groan when her small, creamy brown breasts, slightly lighter in complexion than her face, tumbled

  free, and her dark cherry budded nipples stood erect and proud, begging for his touch.

  He cupped one of the perfect mounds in one hand and stroked a hard, calloused thumb over the

  protruding nipple, fascinated by the way it stretched and

  elongated the more he

  manipulated it.

  ´Hmmm,µ she groaned, and his gaze flew to her face.

  ´You like that?µ he asked gruffly, and she nodded, eyes closed.

  ´Yes,µ she answered, her breath coming out in soft puffs of air.

  ´You·ll like what I·m going to do next, more. Lift your hips.µ

  She lifted her small hips and Mac slid her jeans, along with her panties, down her legs in one smooth

  motion, exposing her.

  He tossed the clothes on the floor without looking, keeping his eyes locked on her bared body. One of

  her legs dangled off the side of the sofa, the other was perched on one of the cushions, leaving her open

  to him.

  He·d seen her dancing, nearly naked, for a week, yet it hadn·t prepared him for what she·d look like

  nude.

  Although small, her breasts seemed large in comparison to her waist, but her hips and thighs flared

  out, toned and smooth.

  Instead of being shaved smooth, as he suspected she would be, she had a small thatch of hair covering her pussy. It was centered, in a perfect line, down the middle of her mound. Short enough that he

  could see her tiny clit poking out.

  Mac·s index finger feathered over her tuft, seeing if the curls were as soft as they appeared, before

  separating the lips of her vagina. It turned him on that the skin of her inner lips was a darker brown than

  the skin on her body.

  He dipped his fingers inside and screwed his fingers inside her drenched slit. He withdrew them,

  soaked with her juices, and licked her cream away.

  His own breath was becoming as labored as hers when his gaze traveled to her face and he saw the

  stamp of arousal there. His nostrils flared as the heady smell of her arousal wafted up to his nose,

  engulfing him in its heady embrace.

  He wondered how many men

  she·d done this with. How many men had she danced for and allowed to

  take her home, allowed to stroke and lick her?

  How many men had tasted a bit of sin?

  ´What³what·s wrong?µ she

  asked.

  He felt her immediate unease and schooled his features away from the anger he felt tightening his

  face. The hesitancy, the

  aloneness he·d detected in her from the moment he·d first seen her on stage, was

  starkly at odds with the side of her personality that allowed her to strip her clothes and dance for a bevy of

  strangers on a nightly basis.

  Mac was uneasy with the duality in her nature. He also felt uncomfortable with his anger.

  The urge to find the score of nameless men she·d shed her clothes for, exposed her

  beautiful body to,

  and knock their teeth down their collective throats raised a red haze of anger, clouding his vision and his

  mind.

  He clenched his teeth and forcibly shoved the need out of his head and concentrated on the woman in

  front of him.

  Ńothing·s wrong. You·re

  beautiful.µ

  ´Thank you,µ she returned huskily. He knew he hadn·t said enough to reassure her. She needed

  reassurance that only he could provide.

  He wasn·t an eloquent man. He didn·t know how to

  communicate to her, the need he had, the

  newness of it, the connection he·d had with her from the moment he·d seen her on

  stage³something he

  didn·t understand.

  ´You can trust me.µ

  She needed the flowery words, but he didn·t know how to express the intensity of his attraction to

  her.

  Damn, he hoped she trusted he would take care of her, if only for this night. She didn·t need to fear

  him.

  Her pink tongue swiped the generous swell of her lower lip.

  His heart clenched when she gave a

  hesitant smile. ´Yes,µ she said, and cleared her throat. Í trust you.µ

  He groaned, leaned down,

  pressed himself against her, and captured her lips within his.

  Minutes

  passed as he sucked and

  caressed her lips, until both of their breaths were ragged.

  Reluctantly he released her mouth and trailed lingering kisses down her throat; his dick hard, pressing

  instantly against her bared core.

  He laved her neck, swirling his tongue in the hollow of her throat.

  One hand found and cupped the soft swell of one breast, tugging at the erect nipple. The other hand

  trailed down her body, searching for and finding the minute thatch of curls guarding the entry at the apex

  of her thighs.

  He tunneled his hands past the furred vee, separated the lips of her vagina, and alternately stroked

  down each side. She was hot and creamy, her sweet dew sticky, covering his fingers, and Mac groaned,

  imagining the feel of it

  saturating his cock.

  He slipped one finger inside her tight, moist opening and

  massaged her plump clit,

  rubbing the hard,

  blood-filled tip until she whimpered, crying out from the pleasure he gave her.

  He inserted another finger and rubbed her clit with his thumb as he pumped his fingers in and out of

  her body.

  Sienna tossed her head against the soft cushions on the sofa and arched her body sharply into his.

  ´That feels good, so damn good.µ

  He stifled his own groans when her silken walls clamped down on his fingers. While one hand continued to minister to her pussy, the other molded her breast.

  He nibbled kisses on her lips, licking the full lower rim, nipping it, before recapturing her mouth in a

  hot kiss. Her luscious lips were soft and wet. Perfect. Just like the rest of her.

  Mac gently pried open her mouth, inserted his tongue, and groaned into her mouth,

  searching for her

  tongue.

  He released her mouth and rained kisses down her throat, between her ample breasts, before

  journeying over to capture one tight, erect bud, pulling the long nipple into his mouth and nursing from

  her.

  He reluctantly released his hold on her breast and pulled his fingers out of her clenching walls,

  ignoring her cry of protest.

  Easing his body down the sofa, he dropped to his knees on the floor and

  arranged her body, placing both of her legs over his shoulders, and leaned into her pussy.

  Mac inhaled deep, taking in her heady scent. He placed two fingers alongside the lips of her vagina

  and separated them. He licked the side of her thigh, laving a trail to the core of her, and stroked her from

  the back of her opening to the tip of her hood, and pulled the hidden tr
easure inside his mouth.

  Óooh!µ she screamed, her body jerking, her thighs clenching against his head, keeping him right

  where she wanted him to be.

  9

  W hen his rough tongue lapped against her thighs, and his sweet, hot kisses traveled to her vagina,

  Sienna nearly came.

  Sienna half-raised her body from the soft cushions of the sofa, her legs clamping against his face.

  The sight of his dark head between her thighs, his hot breath scorching the skin of her inner thighs,

  was enough to send liquid from her. Embarrassed, she tried to close her legs.

  Ńo, let me finish eating you,µ

  he said, and opened his mouth wide. Using his entire tongue, he

  lapped at her core.

  The words and incredible feel of his tongue against her pussy forced her cream to rush from her

  body. Sienna relaxed her legs and opened herself to his mouth, his lips, his demanding tongue.

  With slow licks and soft bites, he ministered to her, swirling his tongue alongside the soft tissue of her

  inner core, ignoring her

  whimpers and cries. Sienna was dizzy with the onslaught of erotic sensations.

  Óh God«that feels so good,µ

  she moaned.

  ´Do you want me to stop?µ He murmured the words against her quivering pussy.

  Ńo! Please don·t stop!µ Sienna cried out when he blew a hot breath against her inner lips, her body

  slumping back against the cushions when he curled his tongue around her clit.

  He used his talented fingers and kept her lips separated. He suckled on her and she bucked against

  him, accepting his oral loving, her hands clutching the corners of the seat cushions on either side of her,

  grabbing one and holding it against her mouth to muffle her cries of pleasure.

  In sensual agony, she accepted the wicked glides of his tongue, teeth, and lips, in and around her

  pussy.

  He carefully worked one, two, until he had four of his thick fingers embedded deep inside her

 

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