“Not much, considering your nipples are really hard,” he murmured, touching one tip with exquisite gentleness. “I think you want to get screwed again.”
“Know-it-all. I
She wrinkled her nose. “I wish.”
“It really doesn’t matter. Come on, relax,” he said, lifting her against the pillows. Gently spreading her legs, he kneeled between them, cupped her breasts in his palms, bent his head, and sucked first on one nipple then the other until her cunt was aching, throbbing, pulsing with every beat of her heart. Until it was only a question of whether she was going to come with or without him inside her.
For a fraction of a second, she debated her outrageous willingness or his outrageous appeal. But just as she was deciding she should be less slavishly under his spell, that she could control her desires if she only put her mind to it, he slipped two fingers in her so-
“In a minute.” His voice in contrast was serene. Then he went back to sucking her nipples and massaging her G-spot and clit while she panted and squirmed and pleaded. Stopping his feel-good therapy just nanoseconds short of her liftoff to climax, he sat back on his heels. “Hey, babe- intermission.”
It took her a moment to respond, to put sound and words in some reasonable frame of reference when she was totally absorbed in sensation. When she finally realized what he was doing, she said, “Don’t be a prick.”
She was right, and if he’d not been struggling with his own ungovernable cravings, he might not have given in to his baser instincts. It was probably some Neanderthal defense mechanism-having to be in control. Moving off the bed, he held out his hand. “Come here, and I’ll be as nice as you want.”
She scowled. “No.”
He shouldn’t have felt such a lecherous rush at her unwillingness. “Come on. I’ll fuck you. You want that, don’t you?”
Her indecision was palpable.
“Think of it as part of the game.”
“What if I don’t like your game?”
He smiled. “But you do.”
Damn him for looking like some female fantasy: tall, powerful, too good-looking for even a smidgen of humility, with a cock that literally stretched from crotch to waist and could have been an ad for Viagra, since it was hard forever.
As if he could read her mind, he lightly traced the length of his erection with his fingertip.
“I’ll do this to you later,” she muttered.
“What?”
“Make you wait.”
“But you don’t have to wait.” He crooked his finger.
She scowled. “I could use my vibrator.”
“Do that when I’m not here.”
“Don’t sound so sensible when you’re pissing me off.”
“Come on.”
Who could refuse? Maybe someone with zero libido. Hers, unfortunately, was operating at maximum capacity. Moving to the edge of the bed, she took his hand and came to her feet.
“Over here,” he said, detouring long enough to pull a condom from his jeans pocket. Drawing her to an upholstered chair near the window, he turned it around so the chair back faced the room. “Bend over this.”
She didn’t move.
“Do what you’re told, babe, and I’ll put my cock in you and make you come.”
“Fuck you,” she muttered, glaring at him.
“Or I could fuck you,” he gently observed.
He shouldn’t have felt such elation as she complied, bending facedown over the chair back. But her submission struck some perverted chord, his cock surged higher, and in compensation for his brute behavior he promised himself she could come as many times as she wished.
He had the condom in place a second later and, moving up to her prominently displayed sex, he grazed the gleaming pink flesh of her vulva with the tip of his erection, tracing her slippery, wet cleft from top to bottom. “Now, if you ask real nice, I might-”
Surging upright, she spun around, swung at him furiously, and would have landed a square punch on the jaw if he hadn’t quickly sidestepped. As it was, she left a streak of scratches down his cheek. “Get out!” she snapped.
“No.” He held his arms out. “I won’t move this time. Take your best shot.”
“I could call the cops,” she muttered, steamed and breathing hard.
“Be my guest, but I’d rather stay, and we could take advantage of this.” He glanced downward, his upthrust penis hard against his stomach.
She didn’t answer, but her gaze was directed at a point below his waist.
“Look, I was out of line,” he said very, very softly. “It won’t happen again.”
“Damn right it won’t,” she said with a little pout.
He was pretty much home free at that point, but he knew better than to gloat. And bottom line, it was to his advantage as well to reach rapprochement. “Just an observation,” he said, with utmost diplomacy, “and I offer it as a suggestion only, but if you’d care to give that chair a try, I can guarantee you’ll like it.”
“Is this in your play book?”
“I don’t have a play book,” he said, ultrapolitely. “Call it a hunch.”
“Hmph.”
“Come on, babe,” he softly cajoled. “You and I both know we’re operating under some goddamned irresistible mind fuck. I promise not to give orders.”
She looked at his engorged cock, then at him, her gaze still partially shuttered. “So you’re telling me this is going to feel better than usual.”
“I have no idea about what’s usual for you, but let’s just say I’m pretty sure you’ll like it. And I’m sorry, okay?” Although he was mostly sorry, she’d become an obsession for him.
She smiled faintly. “You can be damned polite.”
“I usually am. That other stuff-consider it an aberration. Not to be repeated.”
“Sounds good,” she said briskly. “Show me what you’ve got.”
Bitch. She was deliberately goading him. But never one to let anger get in the way of mind-blowing sex, he said, polite as hell, “Sure thing, sweetheart.”
He was less polite a moment later as he rammed his cock into her cunt. Not that she seemed to mind, if her breathy cries were any indication. Nor did he get the feeling he’d be leaving anytime soon as she eagerly lifted her bottom in anticipation of his downstrokes, uttered high-pitched, feverish screams when he buried his cock in her, and came so many times he lost count.
Eventually, collapsed over the chair back, she whispered, “Stop.”
Good, he thought. There was only so much wear and tear one condom could take. Not that he intended to be entirely selfless.
His own climax was relatively quick; he’d been curtailing his orgasm for damn near a record length of time. But quick didn’t mean it didn’t pack a wallop.
The record this time was one of intensity.
Like a stage-two hurricane.
Or a boiler exploding.
Or the exquisite feel of a woman who was doing a real number fucking up his purposefully independent life.
Not that he was giving much thought to cerebral issues when there were hours yet till morning. And he had plans.
