Four Play

by Maya Banks

  CHAPTER | ONE

  Zoe Michaels climbed on top of Chase Hilliard, their sweat-slicked bodies humming with arousal. She lowered her head until her mouth hovered over the shallow indention of his navel, and she flicked her tongue out, rimming the edge.

  She smiled when he shuddered beneath her lips. He was highly sensitive in that area. It drove him crazy when she touched his belly button.

  The tips of her breasts grazed his abdomen when she moved higher. She straddled his hips, and his balls rested against the juncture of her thighs. If she moved even the teeniest bit, her clit pressed against his sac.

  Chase groaned, “You are such a damn tease.”

  He reached for her, but she playfully dodged him, taking his hands and guiding them instead to her breasts. He eagerly complied and brushed his thumbs across her nipples, bringing them to rigid points.

  She closed her eyes as he played. She loved having her breasts touched. So much of her sexuality was wrapped up in her breasts. It seemed silly, but she’d rather have a man’s mouth on her nipples than her pussy any day.

  And her neck. Oh God. She went positively weak whenever Chase nibbled at her neck. Hell, all he had to do was touch her there and she became a gelatinous blob. And to his credit, he loved to stroke her nape. They’d sit on the couch watching movies, and he’d idly pet and caress her neck until she put an end to her torment and jumped him.

  Sort of like she was jumping him now. Only she’d already jumped him, and now she had every intention of revving him up again.

  Her hands curled around his cock, and she purred in contentment as she caressed his length.

  “Quit making that sound,” Chase grumbled in a strained voice. “You know it makes me crazy. What guy doesn’t get off on knowing his girl is satisfied by his equipment?”

  She grinned and leaned down, her hair falling like a curtain over his chest. She kissed the hollow of his chest and lapped at the salty taste of his skin.

  She rose up just enough to get his cock underneath her. As soon as she tucked the head to her entrance, they both caught their breath. His hands gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her ass. Then she lowered, taking him inch by delicious inch.

  “Holy hell,” he breathed. “You feel so damn good. I should be worn out and have a serious case of shriveled dick after you worked me over, but I swear you look at me and I get hard again.”

  She straightened, sending him even deeper, and smiled down at him. “You say the most gorgeous things. It’s a good thing you say them when we’re not having sex too, or I’d think you only love me for my body.”

  He slid his hands up her sides and then cupped her breasts in his palms. “Who says I don’t?”

  She laughed and planted her hands on his chest as she arched up and then moved down to sheathe him.

  “Tell me your deepest, dirtiest fantasy,” she challenged.

  He closed his eyes for a moment as she clamped down around his cock, milking him with her internal muscles.

  “You already know all my kinky fantasies,” he said raggedly. “I’m an open book.”

  “I don’t believe that for a minute. There has to be something you’ve fantasized, something so outrageous you’d never admit it to me.”

  He looked up in amusement. “And you think I’d tell you now?”

  She leaned forward until her mouth was just a breath from his. “Tell me. Give me the inside scoop on that tawdry mind of yours.”

  “Okay so it’s not exactly the kinkiest thing in the world. It just sounds . . . strange I guess.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Oh do tell. I’m dying of curiosity now.”

  He grunted and pulled at her body, lifting her until her nipple rested against his mouth. He’d pulled her nearly free of his cock, and just the head rimmed her entrance. He slid his tongue over one nipple, and her vision went all blurry. Damn the man, but he knew all her buttons.

  To make matter worse, he slid a hand around to rest on her nape, and then he simply squeezed just as he sucked her nipple hard between his teeth.

  She went wet around the tip of his cock. She drenched him, and then he ran his hands quickly down her waist, gripping her and ramming her down onto his dick.

  “Oh God,” she breathed. “Oh shit.”

  “Not yet, Zoe. Not yet, baby.”

  It was all she could do not to give in and slide over the edge.

  “I’m at a strip club.”

  His husky voice washed over her, eliciting a deep shiver. She loved it when they talked about their fantasies. There was something intensely sexy about his voice when it dropped and he spoke to her in low, hushed tones as if he were afraid for anyone else but her to hear.

  “I’m there with the guys. The other firefighters. Everyone from the station. The lights go down and the music starts. This really gorgeous woman strolls onto the stage like she fucking owns it. She has killer legs, hips that make a man ache to touch, and an ass that inspires some dark fantasies.”

  She watched as his eyes grew dark and he got into the spirit of the game. His body tightened, and his cock pulsed deep inside her pussy.

  “She throws off her top, and she has a set of tits that make every man in the place drool. Just right. Not too big, not too small and they’re firm. Her entire body is just tight.”

  He began to move slowly within her, stroking in and out. She let him dictate the pace, and she just sat astride him as he worked her hips with his hands and thrust with his.

  “She’s you,” he whispered. “And every guy in the place knows you’re mine, and they’re jealous as hell. You’re dancing and watching me with this mysterious smile. There’s not a guy in the entire club that doesn’t have a hard-on the size of a tree trunk, but they know you’re mine, and they hate me because they know you’re going home with me. But you put on a show for them and I watch, loving every minute of it.”

  She moaned softly and undulated her hips over him. “You like the idea of other men watching me?”

  “Oh hell yeah,” he breathed. “I love them watching, knowing they can’t touch what’s fucking mine. I love that they’re jealous, and they’re all wondering what you see in me and they think I’m the luckiest son of a bitch alive.”

  “Mmmm.”

  She let out a breathy sigh as she imagined herself doing just the things he fantasized about. Dancing in front of a room full of men all focused on her.

  The possession in his voice, the pride in his ownership tightened every nerve ending until she gasped for breath. She loved that he was so into her, so proud of his relationship with her.

  “Not yet, Zoe,” he reminded her.

  Shit. She was close. So close. She squirmed as she tried to hold her orgasm at bay.

  “And what if they touched me,” she whispered. “What would you do?”

  He rolled, tucking her into his arms and coming to a stop, him still buried deep, their positions reversed. His eyes glittered as he stared down at her.

  “Do they touch you in your fantasy, Zoe?”

  She swallowed and slid her hands up his arms to his broad, muscular shoulders. She loved touching him. It was something she never got tired of doing. He’d worked hard for his body. He stayed in tip-top shape. His job as a fireman demanded it. And she enjoyed the benefits. Oh hell yeah, she did.

  She normally wasn’t shy about imparting her fantasies to Chase. They often enjoyed naughty pillow talk during or right before sex. But this particular fantasy . . .

  He leaned down and kissed her, licking over her lips then delving inward to slide his tongue over hers.

  “Tell me,” he demanded.

  Her hands curled around the back of his neck, and she arched into him, wanting him deeper. His strokes were firmer now, more powerful, and he touched a part of her that sent fiery shards of intense
pleasure blowing through her body.

  “I fantasize about being captured—by you . . . and others. You capture me when I’m not expecting it and you take me away and you take turns making me ...”

  “Making you do what?” he asked huskily.

  His pupils were dilated, and his lips parted. His breaths came out in jerky little puffs.

  “It’s weird because in reality . . . it’s not something I’d want to ever happen. But with people I trusted ...”

  “What do we make you do, Zoe?”

  She touched his face, her fingers trembling as the excitement from the mental images bombarding her coursed through her veins.

  “You make me pleasure you. You pleasure me. You bend me to your will. You fuck me over and over. And while they fuck me, you watch. Sometimes you tell them what to do. Sometimes you let them do whatever they want. You watch and you enjoy seeing other men take what’s yours and completely take me over.”

  “Ah shit,” he breathed.

  He tightened all over. He swelled within her, and they both teetered precariously on the edge.

  “Don’t move,” he said harshly. “Not an inch. Give me a minute.”

  She obeyed because if either of them moved, she would explode. She was so tense, so buzzed on sexual excitement that she tingled from head to toe. Her clit swelled, and she ached to reach down and touch herself. Just once. It was all she’d need, but she waited, wanting them to go together.

  “You like my fantasy?”

  She was genuinely curious. They were pretty open about their sexual kinks, and Lord knew they had a very active sex life. Their motto was they’d pretty much try anything once.

  “Fuck yeah,” he gritted out.

  She ran a finger over his lips, easing some of the strain as he fought against the urge to come.

  “The idea of you stretched out between two other men? Or maybe you’re riding one while another takes your ass and another is fucking your mouth? While I watch? Holy shit. That’s hot.”

  She trembled. His words buzzed over her skin, evoking erotic images of her being taken over and over as he watched. She arched helplessly into him, no longer able to control the rising tide.

  Chase withdrew and then slammed hard into her, his muscled thighs pounding the backs of hers. His balls slapped against her ass, and he leaned forward so his angle was sharper and his entry deeper.

  She curled her fingers into his shoulders and then raked her nails over his back. He loved it when she did it, said he loved wearing her mark.

  Their mouths fused hotly, in rhythm with their bodies. Over and over he thrust, taking them closer and closer until every inch of her body was one big balled-up jumble of nerves.

  “Chase, please!”

  He reached down, knowing what she needed. His thumb brushed over her clit, and then he pressed harder, rubbing it in a circular motion. He thrust again, and she lost it.

  She came unglued in his arms. Her cry echoed across the room, and then his mouth came down over hers, silencing her. His hoarse shout was swallowed up by her inhalation.

  Faster and harder. Pleasure razored across her body, a thin edge of pain and ecstasy. Sweet, sweet ecstasy.

  She spun out of control, and for a moment lost all sense of herself, only that she floated on a hazy cloud of oh-my-God good.

  Slowly she became aware of Chase kissing her. He kissed a lazy line up her jaw and to her mouth, nibbled on her bottom lip before continuing on to the other side of her jaw and down to her neck. Ah shit, her neck.

  She shivered uncontrollably as soon as his lips touched the column below her ear. He chuckled and sucked lightly. Tremors overtook her, and a second orgasm raced over her like a quick thunderstorm in summer.

  “Not fair,” she croaked as she collapsed underneath him.

  “You love it and you know it.”

  There was that.

  He kissed her one last time before carefully withdrawing from her body. She lay there as he rolled out of bed to get a towel. She loved not using condoms and was happy they’d been together long enough that trust was established and they could enjoy spontaneous, mind-bending sex without latex. She didn’t even mind the cleanup afterward because Chase always took care of that.

  She was a lucky, lucky woman.

  After taking care of the sticky parts, he slid back into bed with her, and she snuggled into his embrace. Another thing she loved about him is he didn’t seem to mind her need for postcoital cuddling. How cliché was that?

  Not that they didn’t have their share of quickies—half of which were instigated by her. There were plenty of times they had sex on the run and cuddling was definitely out. But times like tonight when they had all the time in the world, lying in his arms after spectacular sex? There wasn’t anything else like it.

  He kissed her forehead and smoothed her hair away with gentle fingers.

  “So tell me another fantasy,” he said.

  She shifted until she looked up at him. “Oh no, it’s your turn. I confessed last.”

  He grinned. “Hard-ass.”

  A door shutting across the house had her looking up. “Guess the guys got home. At least this time they weren’t around to hear me scream,” she muttered.

  Chase snorted and reached over to pat her behind. “They’re used to all the noise you make. It’s a regular joke down at the station.”

  She rose up on one elbow and pounded his chest with her fist. “Get out! Tell me that’s not true!”

  It was bad enough that their roommates Brody McNamara and Tate Winslow were an inadvertent audience to their noisy sex—okay, so she’d tried really hard to be quiet, but sometimes it just wasn’t possible!—but now the entire firehouse knew she was a screamer?

  Chase had that smug shit-eating grin that told her the other firemen definitely knew and that Chase took it as a personal badge of honor that he could satisfy her so thoroughly in bed.

  “You probably brag about it,” she said in disgust.

  “Of course I do. I’m a guy.”

  She flopped back onto the pillow and sighed. “You’re not getting out of telling me another fantasy. You owe me two now.”

  He chuckled and cupped her ass possessively. “It’s sort of like your fantasy, only I walk into the house one day to see another man bend you over the counter in the kitchen and fuck your brains out while I’m watching.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Are we talking like cheating here? I mean you catching me with another guy?”

  He shook his head. “No, babe, I don’t mean it that way. I know you wouldn’t cheat. It’s just sort of a fantasy of seeing you, bent over and fucked six ways to Sunday while I watch and me knowing you’re completely helpless.”

  “Mmmm, I like the helpless part. It’s sort of like one of my favorite fantasies I think about when I use a vibrator. You know, when you’re working forty-eights and I’m all alone,” she pouted.

  He tweaked her exaggerated lip pout, then nipped at her full bottom lip. “What’s this fantasy?”

  Heat rose up her neck.

  “You’re blushing!”

  It came out as a hoot, and his eyes twinkled with laughter.

  “Oh shut up,” she grumbled. “I feel like such a slut.”

  He snorted. “You’re my slut and I like you that way.”

  She thumped him again for good measure.

  “So? Fess up. What’s this vibrator fantasy you have?”

  She closed her eyes and conjured up the image. “You’re holding me down. My arms above my head while other guys take turns fucking me. I’m all stretched out, and you’re holding my wrists so I can’t move.”

  “How many are there?” he asked huskily.

  She blushed again. She just knew it.