I realized I’d barely tugged and sucked at the perfect cherries cresting each tit, but I could do that later.
Coating my cock with my slick fist elicited a moan from her. I grinned at her. “Like that, huh?” I did it again, twice more, and watched as she licked her lips at the sight.
Fuck, I needed her.
Not just her tits, but her cunt.
Christ.
Grabbing the gorgeous swells with either hand, I pushed them together and made a tunnel for myself. She whimpered as she felt my cock against her skin, then slowly, I began to fuck her there. I manipulated her skin, knowing that I pinched her in some points, squeezed to the point of pain in others as I screwed her tits.
She didn’t seem to mind.
Her breathy pants told me she was eager for this, eager for more, and I had no doubt that her once virginal, little pussy wanted more action than it was ready for.
Mouth watering at the prospect of tasting her tonight, I used her tits. I’d never been a fan of titty fucks. I found them boring. But as I stared down into her eyes as I did this, there was nothing boring about it.
Shit, what the hell was happening to me?
There was a whole world of delight in her gaze, and I found myself falling into it like I’d just uttered the password to Ali Baba’s cave.
When my orgasm approached, I tilted my head back, unable to look at her as I climaxed. My thrusts grew shaky, staccato, as I found my pleasure. I roared as I came, my seed spattering the upper slopes of her tits, her nipples, her throat, her chin, even her mouth and cheek.
Fuck, that was a lot of cum, and while I’d thought she was beautiful, I wasn’t sure I’d seen a more beautiful sight than I did at that moment.
Releasing my taut grip on her tits, I let them fall aside, but I left my cock there, in the welcome haven of her body. Then, with slow and sure movements, I began to rub the cum into her skin. Languidly, dreamily, I guessed. Not stopping until my cum had merged with the lube and she was a shiny mess.
Wiping my hands on the bed cover, I reached up for the cum on her face. Scooping some up, I carried it to her mouth.
“Lick my fingers,” I ordered her.
Her tongue popped out, and she sucked them clean. Before I could groan, I saw her nose wrinkle, and though I smiled, I told her, “Get used to tasting it. I want you to swallow every drop next time.”
Her eyes flared wide. “Next time?”
I nodded. “Next time.”
If she thought I was going anywhere, if she thought she was going anywhere, she was fucking crazy.
With a hum, I did the same as I had earlier.
I rubbed my seed into her cheeks. Coated her upper lip with it and ran it around her lips. “Don’t lick them,” I warned her. “Leave my cum there. Above your lip.”
She tensed. “I-I can’t.”
“You can,” I told her, the warning clear in my voice.
Aoife shifted restlessly on the bed, and I moved away, knowing she was fighting several urges.
I had no doubt that she needed to come again. I also had no doubt that she was fighting my dominance.
Some women were born submissive. They just didn’t know it.
Aoife was, but she undoubtedly had a lifetime of women’s lib being deep-throated down her fucking gullet, and she thought she shouldn’t like the way I bossed her around.
I’d show her differently.
Unlike many men in my line of work, I didn’t actually want a totally compliant wife. In the bedroom was one thing, in other aspects of our life, it was another.
Women in this world needed backbone. Grit. I figured Aoife had that in spades if she’d felt strong enough to try to fight Acuig’s purchasing of her lot. It was there, but she was still being cautious.
I had time to show her how I wanted her to be.
Before she could complain anymore about the cum on her face, which had her skin gleaming like she’d put some of that shitty highlighter stuff I’d seen my bed-warmers in the past put on their cheekbones to make them gleam under the light, I maneuvered back down the bed.
This time, I got to my knees as I moved to the floor. I grabbed her legs and dragged her down toward me. She released a squeal, but settled down with sobbing breaths that escaped her as she realized what I was about to do.
I pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her clit.
“Did I fuck your little cunt too hard?” I rasped.
She shuddered. Didn’t answer.
I nipped the bud, making her yelp.
“Well? Did I?”
A moan escaped her. “N-No. You fucked me just right.”
“Does your pussy want me again?” I asked before I slipped my tongue through her tender folds, moving down to the sensitive area I’d penetrated earlier. She wriggled on the bed, and I knew she was experiencing both discomfort and pleasure at the touch. Her breaths turned from small pants, to harsh ones as I reached up and began to rub her clit.
“O-Oh, God.”
I pulled back and tapped her clit. When she jerked at the sting but released a throaty moan, I knew she liked the bite of pain. “Blasphemous girl,” I chided. Not that I gave a fuck, but I liked punishing her.
So, fucking sue me.
She whimpered. “I-I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry to me,” I told her before I pounced once more, slurping up her clit, sucking down on it hard and fast until she was screaming, her body one big rictus of pleasure. Her legs came up to cup my head, but because her thighs were rounded and soft, it felt good instead of like being in a stranglehold.
I didn’t mind. I loved her passion, and I rewarded her, letting her orgasm and find her pleasure, loving how it seemed to flood her. She didn’t hold back, didn’t try to contain her desire to make sure she looked beautiful. It ripped through her like the tide, and I fucking loved how unpracticed she was.
And her taste?
Fuck me, it was better than fucking whiskey.
Earthy and musky, to be sure, but like honey, too.
I growled, not having sated myself enough on her taste. I tongue fucked her, sucked her clit until she found her release two more times. I only stopped when she was begging for me to stop, begging to be released from the crest of ecstasy I’d taken her to.
And because she asked so sweetly, I gave it to her, but it didn’t stop me from climbing back up, from pressing my lips to her ear, and whispering, “You’re going to be begging me to stop every fucking night from now on.”
She was too exhausted to do anything other than release a small whimper before her breathing evened out and she slept.
For once, I did, too.
I didn’t stare up at the ceiling, twiddling my fucking thumbs as I thought about all the shit I hadn’t managed to do today, and all the fucking shit I had to do tomorrow.
I cocked one leg over hers, and covered her like I was a heavy blanket, my face nuzzled into her throat. And for the first time in years, I slept the whole night through.
❖
Aoife
It was the silence that woke me.
I wasn’t used to it. I don’t think any New Yorker was.
Well, I should correct that by saying any average New Yorker.
Not only was I on one of the best streets in Hell’s Kitchen, I was about eighty stories up. When I looked out of the window, I couldn’t see anything other than sky and buildings in the distance. The ground was way, way, way down, and peering out the window was enough to make me dizzy.
I wasn’t sure I was surprised to find myself alone this morning.
Had I committed a faux pas by spending the night?
I wasn’t sure. I just knew I’d had no alternative but to pass out last night. He’d given me so many orgasms that I’d had no choice but to sleep.
I mean, sure, I’ve used my fingers, and a vibrator. Yeah, I’d thought that was better than a man could give me. But what Finn O’Grady could do with his body, his hands, and his tongue? Jesus Christ. No sex toy could begin to compar
e.
But oh, my God, I was sore.
Muscles that I’d never even known I possessed ached. This was more than just a bone-deep ache, too. It felt like, with each and every step I took, I was ninety years old.
My legs were sore, my thighs felt strained like I’d done a thousand squats. My stomach muscles were tight, and even my back had aches I’d never had before.
If nothing else, Finn O’Grady had given me the best workout ever.
Oh, and don’t forget that he’d probably ruined me for any other man, too.
I should have loathed how he treated me last night. But what had started off rough and harsh had morphed into a bizarre tenderness once he’d realized I was totally new to this. He’d changed then, and I’d loved that even more. The sensitivity of his that came with a bite.
I knew I should scamper out of here, tug on my clothes and get out before he could find me, but I didn’t have it in me to do so. I stood there, naked and unashamed for the first time in my life, and looked out at a view that had to have an eight-figure price tag.
It seemed surreal that I was standing up here, looking down at all the little folk below while I was covered in a lover’s sweat and cum. My legs were stained with my release and his saliva. . . .
God help me, though, I loved it.
I loved it.
I felt so dirty. So deliciously, horrendously dirty. It was like I’d found my purpose. Like suddenly having good sex made everything make sense.
This feeling was why Jenny walked with a sensual grace after she’d been laid the night before.
This feeling was what made the world go around, and had men and women moving in an infinite, uniquely choreographed dance.
And, God, I wanted more.
I didn’t like the reasons he’d brought me here, but what he’d done after?
I wasn’t about to complain.
“Good. You’re awake.”
I stiffened at his brisk tone and turned around to see him eying me. I’d half-expected to see disgust or revulsion on his face, maybe even impatience at my still being there. But if anything, there was a possessive gleam that had my heart stammering in my chest. His ice-blue eyes were still flinty, but they glittered hotly as he took me in.
I remembered how he’d taken me last night. With each thrust of his hips, he’d declared I was his, and his stare this morning confirmed it.
“Did you lick your top lip?”
The question came out of nowhere. “I-I don’t think so.” His cum had dried on me last night, which was both gross and delightful. I wasn’t sure why it was the latter and not just the former, but it made my insides turn squelchy and everything south, which had no business coming back to life, turning molten hot.
He hummed, then held out his hand. I stilled at the sight but took four hesitant steps toward him. When there were two left between us, he tutted, and I realized what that meant—I scurried forward, covering the distance. When he smiled at me, his impatience disappearing, it was like a cat purring its satisfaction.
With my hand in his, he led me to the bathroom. The elegance of the room looked even starker in the dull morning light, and he guided me to the shower, then switched on the faucet.
I stood there, just watching as he stripped. I realized then that he’d been working out because his chest gleamed with sweat, and he wore basketball shorts.
His cock was soft, and I was fascinated by the difference between last night and now, but as I watched, and he saw where my focus was aimed, it grew hard.
He grabbed my hand, making me jump, and curled it around his cock. Pumping it a few times together, his head tilted back as he released a guttural groan.
“How can you be this fucking potent?” he gritted out, surprising me by the admission.
I wouldn’t deny that it made me feel like a siren, but equally, I wasn’t actually doing anything, so it wasn’t as if I could take complete credit.
Rather than say anything, I tugged at his cock, applying gentle pressure as I walked backward to move under the spray.
I wasn’t sure if he wanted me to take charge at all, but fuck, this was the twenty-first century. If I wanted to feel him up while under the hot spray, then that was my prerogative. And boy, did I need that water. Not only did I stink of sex and cum and all kinds of nasty things, my body was aching like a bitch. I needed the heat to make me feel some semblance of human. Equally, though, I wanted to carry on touching him.
I liked the feel of him in my hands, loved the sounds he made as I touched him. I realized then that I’d never felt this empowered, this confident in who I was as I did at that moment.
I wore baggy shirts and dark jeans to hide my curves. I rarely showed that much skin, and I never, ever felt comfortable with no clothes on. That was when I was by myself, never mind with a man as handsome as Finn looking on.
But the way he made me feel?
It was like I was some kind of sex goddess, and I found that I loved that. Loved the way he made me feel about myself.
I didn’t have to hide my curves; he loved them. He’d squeezed all my bits, grabbed a hold of them and used them to fuck me harder, better, faster, deeper.
Like that was what my body was made for.
To be fucked by him.
I shuddered at the thought as he reached behind me and grabbed a bottle from the silver shelf suspended from the ceiling. When he poured gel into his hands, I enjoyed the scent of the masculine fragrance and let him rub it into my hair.
Moaning at how good it felt, I pressed my forehead to his chest and let him tend to me. He massaged my scalp then rinsed me clean, and then, with some soap, he cleansed every other inch of me. Not leaving a single part of me dirty.
I loved it. Loved the attention. Wanted more of it, if I was being honest, and knew that was foolhardy because this man was here to use me. Just because I felt like I was floating on cloud nine didn’t mean he was, too.
When he touched me between my legs, I released a sharp hiss. The sound was so raw that he jerked in surprise. I hadn’t meant to make him jump like that, and my cheeks burned in response, but he tutted me.
“Don’t be embarrassed. I fucked you hard last night, and you took me. Every inch. It will be better next time,” he promised, and, God, there it was again.
Those two dangerous words.
Next time.
He’d said that a few times, and the promise inherent in them was enough to make my heart skip a beat.
I should be wanting out of this place, out of this man’s life, his world. And yet, the things he made me feel? I was hungry for them. Greedy for them. Having never experienced them before, having never even imagined the power of what a man and a woman could share together, I wanted to explore it all with this unique creature who’d made me feel these wonderful things.
I didn’t want to leave here even though I knew he was dangerous. Though, I knew his ‘colleagues’ were vile human beings.
Finn was, too, really.
Hadn’t he manipulated me into being here?
Hadn’t he used my secret meetings with my father for his own gain?
And yet, as he cleansed my pussy with a tenderness that almost made my eyes swim with tears, I had to wonder if I was dealing with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde here.
How could the same man be capable of two separate types of behavior?
When I was clean, he switched off the shower, grabbed a towel from the swanky heated radiator, and wrapped it around me before he grabbed a shorter one for my hair.
“Dry it and watch,” he ordered me, surprising me into stillness until I figured out what he was doing.
The water came on, and this time, he cleaned himself. I watched him soap up all that hard muscle, watched the tendons in his arms flex as he washed his hair. I saw his throat move as he rinsed those silky black locks after shampooing it, and then, his hand went to his cock.
I released a moan as he began to jack off.
My pussy clenched, feeling so goddamn empty as I watch
ed him find pleasure in his fist.
Fuck! That should be my hand. He should let me do that to him, even if I didn’t really have a clue what to do to give him so much pleasure.
His eyes were glittering again as he stared at me from under dark brows, and I could tell my response excited him. His skin flushed red at his cheekbones, and his stomach muscles clenched as I realized his climax was approaching.
“Do you want my cum in your mouth?” he asked, his voice husky.
Shaken by the question, I was left wondering what the fuck was wrong with me because my answer was a hoarse, “Yes.”
He smirked at me, and it was arrogant enough to make me want to hit him. Only, I didn’t. When he told me to get on my knees, I didn’t even give a damn about the cold tiles against my joints, didn’t give a fuck that I was getting cold from not having dried off properly. All I could think about was having his cock in my mouth again.
“Open wide,” he directed, and I did, I even stuck out my tongue slightly, and he tapped the crest of his shaft against it. My mouth watered at the taste of him. Last night, it had been kind of gross, but now I knew what it represented, and I wanted it.
I wanted every drop.
He laid his shaft there and gritted out, “Don’t fucking move. Just watch me come. Swallow. Every. Fucking. Drop.”
The way he ground out the words was almost like he was in pain. After last night, I knew what that variance of pain felt like, and I almost empathized with him. Then, his cock spurted, and his seed drenched my mouth. I quickly swallowed, not wanting to waste a drop by gagging on having too much liquid in my mouth.
With a grunt, he tugged at his shaft, milking himself dry.
I was trembling by the time he finished, and when he brushed his shaft around my lips like he was applying lipstick, I couldn’t even find it in myself to care.
For the first time in my life, I was in lust. Head over heels with it. It couldn’t have been at a worse time, couldn’t have been with a man more wrong for me than Finn, and yet, my body had spoken.
For however long he wanted me, I was his.
Screw You: A Screwed Duet (Five Points, Hell's Kitchen Book 1) Page 9