by Score, Lucy
No one had ever spoken to me like that. No one had ever been this raw with me. My body was clearly embracing it.
The house was dark, the only light coming from the moon reflecting off the water outside. I felt something hard at my back. The foyer table. A lovely marble top pedestal with cool lilies, no showy ranunculus this week.
“Turn around,” he said, pulling his fingers out of me and shoving me around. He bent me over the marble, shockingly cold against my breasts.
“What are you—”
But my question was lost as Derek shoved the skirt of my gown up around my waist. I felt him sink down, and then his broad tongue was lapping at my slit from behind.
“Gah!” My hands scrambled against the cool marble. He skimmed his palms up the backs of my thighs, over my ass cheeks, parting them ever so slightly. And then his tongue was spearing into me.
I was exposed. Vulnerable. Completely at his mercy. And so turned on I wasn’t sure I’d survive this encounter.
“Derek!”
“Do you like this, love?” he asked between impatient laps.
“God, yes. Take your cock out. I want you stroking yourself,” I ordered.
He bit my ass cheek approvingly. “Oh, Emily. What a surprise you are.”
“Are you touching yourself?” I demanded.
I heard the tightness in his voice. “Yes.” Then his tongue was nudging the folds between my legs again. I could hear the whisper-soft sound of flesh stroking flesh. I could picture him on his knees behind me. Pleasuring me. Pleasuring himself.
This wasn’t real. This was a depraved fantasy that I’d somehow wanted my entire life.
He didn’t want me because of my last name. Because of my company or my bank account. Derek Price wanted to conquer my body.
He grunted softly behind me, and my muscles rippled around the tip of his tongue.
“Come, darling,” he said, reading my body like a treasure map. He released his cock and used his hands to spread me wider, affording him a deeper angle.
I couldn’t come like this. It was a physical impossibility. And then the orgasm exploded out of nowhere, fluttering around that very talented tongue as it danced and dipped, tasting me.
I slapped my hand against the marble as it rippled through me. It wasn’t enough. I needed more. I needed him.
“Derek, please,” I begged.
“You want my cock, love?” he whispered between deft licks.
“Yes,” I hissed.
He eased back from me, the echo of the orgasm still drumming through my system. I straightened from the table and tore at my shoes. He rose, watching me with those ocean blue eyes. His fingers worked his tie free, and he shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it carelessly on the foyer floor. That magnificent cock hung heavily from his open zipper.
I backed away from him, my breasts still exposed, my dress still mostly on.
I saw the spark in his eyes. The desire to chase. And oh, God. I wanted to be chased.
“Where do you think you’re going, Emily? I’m just getting started.”
The ache between my legs ratcheted up to pain.
I turned and ran, bare feet slapping as I dashed toward the bedroom. He caught me. Of course he caught me, those long legs eating up the distance between us. His arms banded around me from behind, and I reveled at the feel of his cock at my back. Brutally hard.
Caged within his arms, Derek marched me to the mirror in my bedroom. I wanted to be horrified by my reflection. Disheveled and glassy-eyed. My lips were swollen, lipstick smeared. As I watched, he unzipped my dress. Our eyes caught and held in the mirror. The sound of our breathing and the zipper as he dragged it down was the only noise.
“Watch,” he ordered, placing my palms on the cool glass. He slipped the dress down past my waist, hips, thighs, until it pooled uselessly at my feet. Slowly, decadently, Derek reversed the path with his broad hands. Starting at my ankles, they skated up my calves, thighs, over the curves of my ass and waist and higher until they cupped my breasts.
He leaned over my shoulder, teeth flashing. I gasped at the nip.
“I’m going to devour you, Emily.”
I didn’t doubt him for a minute.
While I watched. While my nails scraped at the smooth surface of the mirror, he tugged on both my nipples. Back and forth. Faster. Harder. I pressed my hips back against him, and he grunted in my ear.
“Who’s in charge here, love?” he asked.
“Let’s fight for it.” I pulled one hand off the mirror and reached around behind me to grip his shaft. Moisture leaked from the tip, dampening my back. Derek closed his eyes in the mirror as I worked my hand down to the root.
“Dammit, woman,” he hissed, bringing a hand up to cup my jaw from behind. We made an erotic tableau together in the mirror. I needed him inside me. Needed him pounding into me, racing me to an orgasm.
I released his cock and gripped my breast with my bare hand.
“Fuck,” he snarled. He whirled me around, his grip bruising. I decided to worry about how much I liked it later. His shirt was open but still on. I shoved it off his shoulders as he backed me toward the bed.
“Pants, Price.”
He maintained a grip on my arm and used his free hand to shove his pants down. His underwear, bold red briefs, were rolled down under the proud jut of his erection. The mattress caught the back of my legs, and Derek was falling with me, covering me.
“I want you in my mouth,” I whispered.
“Not this time, Emily.” He dipped down and latched on to one nipple.
I curled my fingers into the sheets, white-knuckling my grip on the world.
He sucked harder, my hips bowing up off the mattress. I needed to feel him against me. I wanted to guide the blunt crown of his cock through my slit. I wanted so much I was afraid one human being couldn’t satisfy the magnitude of need.
“Hold still, love.” His voice was rough and low.
I flexed at the brush of his cock as he lined it up against me. The tip, that glorious blunt tip kissed my core. My breath was coming in pants, and Derek had me skewered with an intense, fiery gaze. It was too late. I knew this wasn’t going to be some quick screw to blow off steam or just to get off.
This was something else entirely. Something I wasn’t prepared for.
He fed his cock into me inch by luxurious inch. Big. Too big, I realized. But there was something else besides the wicked burn as I struggled to accommodate him. Something so darkly satisfying about feeling every ridge and vein of this thick shaft.
Exquisitely full.
He groaned. Agony. Ecstasy. Both were delicately intertwined in the moment that Derek Price hit bottom inside me.
We trembled while he held there, my knees pinned wide open as his hips settled between my legs.
He was bare. There’d been no condom. And I wanted to regret it. I’d been conditioned to regret it. But this feeling. This sleek, wet slide as he slowly dragged himself out of my body was too good to regret.
“It’s so good it hurts,” I whispered.
“Exactly,” he answered, pressing his lips to my throat. “Exactly right.”
Slowly, he slid back in, this time lifting my hips and adjusting. I hadn’t taken him all before. But this time I did. The pain and inexplicable pleasure married in an experience I knew I’d never forget.
“I can’t tell you how good you feel, Emily.”
I dug my nails into his bare back, raking his skin. I urged him with my hips, encouraging him to go a little faster. Take me a little farther. Hurt me a little more.
“Show me,” I urged him.
I grabbed him by the hair and pulled him down to kiss me, and then we were rolling. Shallow thrusts as we moved from back to side to back. I came out on top, and the sensation of sliding down his cock, of filling myself with him, made my eyes roll back in my head.
It was too much.
Derek reared up and wrapped his arms around me.
He closed his mouth on my bre
ast, and I began to ride. Sweat glistened on our skin. Whispered words and hot breath. Hard mouths. Thirsty tongues met and tangled. I needed this. I needed him. He held my hips, helping me set a new pace, his cock piercing me every time I lowered onto it.
“So fucking good,” he groaned.
I dug my fingers into his shoulders and held on for dear life. We were intertwined, connected, united. The feel of his bare cock stretching my inner walls was too much.
“Derek. I’m coming,” I warned him.
“Give it over, love. Give it to me.”
He whispered dark, dirty promises and prayers in my ear as I rocked my hips into him. I whimpered when he pushed a little deeper, and that was it. That was enough. It exploded inside me.
His guttural grunt made me come harder. And then he was tensing, flexing into me, until he came. My orgasm forced his, taking it hostage. He quaked under me, and I felt the hot slickness of semen as he came inside me. Moaning softer even as his hands gripped my hips harder.
Never. I’d never allowed that to happen in my entire sexual career. I was so glad it was him. That we were sharing this moment of rawness. That we were as close as two people could physically be.
The tremors slowed and gentled, and we were left spent, still connected.
29
Derek
For the second morning in a row, I woke in Emily’s bed. However, this time I was alone between the sheets. It was still dark outside, and I could dimly make out a figure tiptoeing from the room.
I snapped on the bedside light. “Going somewhere?”
Emily, clutching a pair of trainers to her chest, looked guilty as she attempted to creep out of her own bedroom.
I lifted up on an elbow and shot her a judgmental raise of my eyebrow.
“I work out early,” she said, her voice husky even in its defensiveness. She was wearing a pair of running shorts and a tight, cropped tank over a power red sports bra.
“I’ll join you,” I said, throwing off the covers and getting out of bed. I had a gym bag in my car.
“Oh… Um.” Emily appeared to be hypnotized by my naked body. “You don’t have to.”
That was Emily Stanton code for “I’m feeling entirely too vulnerable right now, and I want to be alone to rebuild my walls.”
I wasn’t going to let that happen.
“Come now. I thought you’d be used to it by now,” I said smugly, gesturing toward my cock, which had decided it too was awake and ready to salute the morning.
“You really don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” she said, biting on her bare lower lip. Her hair was disheveled, and there was a distinct bite mark on her shoulder. She looked thoroughly ravaged. And conflicted.
I grabbed my pants from the floor and stepped into them.
“I’m staying,” I insisted.
“Fine. Okay. I’ll, uh, meet you…” She waved her hand in the general direction of the gym, still watching me.
I pressed a chaste kiss to the top of her head and headed for my SUV.
Minutes later, dressed in my own gear, I found her in the glassed-in gym. The sky was starting to lighten, and I could make out a pod of dolphins playing—or humping, I wasn’t sure—just offshore.
I opened the door and stepped inside to the thumping beat of a workout playlist. It was a sleek, utilitarian space. The floors were speckled cork and ran under every imaginable piece of fitness equipment. Tucked under a countertop, there was a small glass-doored fridge stocked with water and electrolyte drinks. Towels were neatly rolled and stacked in cubbies. The patio doors opened directly onto the pool area.
Everything was elegantly and efficiently designed. Just like the rest of Emily’s life.
Her long legs under short shorts ate up the belt on one of the treadmills. She was already sweating, her eyes fixed on the water just steps from the windows. I sat on a weight bench and watched her while I laced my shoes.
“That’s not burning any calories, Price,” she called.
“I’m trying to recall if I’ve seen a prettier view first thing in the morning,” I said.
She snorted and shook her head, sending her ponytail swinging.
I chose the rower next to her treadmill and cinched my feet in place.
With a breath, I pushed off and pulled back, feeling the muscles in my back bunch and release with each stroke. We worked in silence, sweating and breathing to the beat of the music. I liked starting my day with a workout. The gym in my condo building was adequate. But it certainly wasn’t as well-equipped as this. There was no panoramic bay view. No Emily.
No—
“Are those dolphins—”
“Humping,” Emily supplied with a grin. “They’re pretty frisky.”
“Lucky mammals.”
Sweat beaded on my skin as I powered through each stroke.
Emily’s step never faltered beside me.
When she finally stepped off the treadmill and moved to the free weights, I helped myself to a water and loaded up a bar.
“Wraps and clips are in there,” she said, nodding toward a set of gray metal lockers along one wall.
I helped myself and worked through a set of clean and jerks, pretending not to notice her gaze glued to my ass in the mirror. She could play it as cool as she wanted, but I knew last night had affected her. Just as it had me.
I stripped off my shirt and tossed it in the direction of the door.
Emily bobbled the hand weight, and it fell, knocking over her water bottle.
When our gazes met in the mirror, I winked, and she rolled her eyes.
“Okay. Fine. I feel awkward. Happy now?” she said, trading the weights for a mat.
I grinned. “Ecstatic.”
“I’m not used to… whatever this is.”
“Intimacy?” I prodded.
“Invasion,” she corrected.
I dropped my bar and laid another mat next to hers. She started a set of crunches. I followed suit.
“You could send me on my way,” I told her, puffing out a breath and I contracted my abs.
“I could,” she agreed, switching to V-ups.
I followed her lead. “But you don’t want to?”
“I’m not clear on what I want,” she corrected.
“Do you want more of last night?” My dick went instantly hard in my shorts, reveling in some of the more vivid details of the night before.
She collapsed back onto the mat. “I don’t know if I can survive more of last night,” she laughed weakly.
“I’m up for trying,” I offered heroically.
She slapped me playfully in the gut, making my cock twitch.
“It was good,” she said.
“Very good,” I agreed, rolling onto my side.
Those blue-gray eyes studied mine seriously. “I want more,” she admitted. “But I can’t tell if it’s a catastrophic idea or just very, very bad.”
“And won’t it be fun finding out?” Testing, I leaned over and brushed my lips against hers. Gentle. Teasing. When I pulled back, she sucked her lower lip into her mouth.
“I don’t have time for fun,” she admitted.
“You forget. I run your calendar. I’m happy to pencil in sex, naps, perhaps some naked happy hours.”
Her smile was slow as she trailed her fingers down over my chest to my stomach. “Your shirtlessness makes a compelling argument.”
“Let me take my shorts off,” I volunteered.
She laughed. A real laugh, and I felt a brightness in my chest.
“You should do that more often,” I told her.
“What? Sweat all over the floor?”
“Laugh.” I kissed her again, enjoying the salt and softness. She was spectacular.
“Steve,” she said, putting her hand on my chest.
“No. Derek.”
“No,” she laughed. “Steve. I have to feed Steve. He doesn’t like it when I’m late.”
* * *
Steve was eight feet of hissing alligator at the end
of a long lagoon dock marked “Steve’s House” in the center of the enclave.
“So that’s really an alligator with a prosthetic leg,” I asked, observing the reptile as it opened its massive jaws.
“It is. One of the residents had his lab print a 3-D stump for him. Poor guy lost it to a boat propeller and kept swimming in circles. He couldn’t be released into the wild, so we let him stay,” Emily explained. “Ready, big guy?”
She held a rotisserie chicken over the railing. I pulled my phone out of the pocket of my gym shorts and snapped a picture.
“Has he ever eaten any residents?” I asked.
Steve hissed as if offended, and Emily tossed him the chicken.
He snapped it up with one prehistoric lunge. I got him mid-jump.
“We have a deal. He gets fed every day as long as he doesn’t snack on any Bluewater pets. He’s pretty chill.”
“I’ll have a mai tai, sweetheart!”
I whirled around at the flash of color, and feathers alighted on the dock’s railing.
“Hi, Frank,” Emily said wryly.
“Nice tattoo, shithead,” the fat parrot said.
“Am I hallucinating right now?” I asked, fascinated.
“I’m afraid not,” she told me. “Frank is our free-range jerk. His previous owner was an asshole. As you might have guessed.”
“And now he lives here in Bluewater?”
“His previous owner died—bar fight, surprise surprise—and Frank here escaped the animal rescue that came for him. Bit the animal control officer in the ear and took off. He ended up here when the landscaping started going in.”
“And you let him stay?”
“What are you lookin’ at, dickhead?” Frank asked Steve, bobbing his colorful head.
The alligator hissed his response.
“We haven’t figured out how to get rid of him,” she confessed.
“Nice tits!” Frank squawked before buzzing Steve and flying off toward the beach.
“You know, I’m never bored around you, love,” I told her.
