by A. C. Arthur
And she was. The way his finger moved so fast in and out of her sent pleasure rippling through her body, while the sound that action caused echoed around them. Was she really standing in the middle of a garden getting a magnificent hand job from this guy? Hell yes, and she was thoroughly enjoying every second of it. So much so, she lifted one leg and wrapped it around his waist. He groaned and dropped his head so he could kiss along her neck while his finger continued to move in and out of her.
“Had to touch you, feel you, right now.” He was saying the words and moving his finger and tracing his tongue along her skin, all the things that were succeeding in driving her out of her mind with need.
Her hips moved to the rhythm of his finger. She wanted him to go deeper, harder. She wanted him to make her come, right here in the middle of this garden. “Never would’ve thought,” she mumbled. “Feels so damn good.”
“Yeah, it does,” he said. “Yeah, it definitely does feel good.”
Truth be told, it felt magnificent to her. Nine months, in comparison to Roark’s six-month hiatus, had been way too long without sex, and even though this wasn’t the thick-dick penetration she’d been thinking of earlier with him, it was still pretty close. Speaking of which, she pushed her hand between their bodies, easing down until she felt the print of his massive erection straining against his pants. If she pulled him out right now, she had no doubt he’d slip inside her and they’d be full-on fucking in the garden. Instead, she rubbed her hand over his length, gripping him through the pants and loving the sound of his breath quickening as she did.
“You want this dick, don’t you?”
Man, if he wasn’t asking the dumbest of questions.
“But not here,” he followed up quickly. “Not. Yet.”
Because he was too busy making her come with just his fingers. Yes, he continued to plunge deep inside her, pausing only to drag a finger back to her clit, where his quick circular motions had her breath catching between moans. Roark knew exactly what he was doing. She was pressing into his hand so hard, her thighs were already trembling, her orgasm just seconds away.
No, not seconds—it was there in full force when her body bowed in his grasp, her toes curled in her sandals, eyes closed tightly as bursts of color behind her lids signified the swirl of pleasure rippling through her body at this very moment.
She hadn’t realized she’d gripped his dick until he moaned, “Fuck! You’re trying to make me come too.”
She wasn’t, not at that moment, but damn, his dick felt good in her hand, almost as good as his fingers felt when he began massaging her pussy.
In the next moments after they’d both caught their breath, Roark eased his hand from between her legs. He lowered her leg to the ground and then stepped back to fix her dress. Tamika ran her fingers through her hair and cleared her throat, like that was going to shake the remnants of that terrific orgasm from her mind and body.
“I can meet you in your bedroom, or you can come to mine.” His voice sounded deeper, but more controlled than ever.
“I’ll come to you,” she said, feeling a little shaky at how quickly she’d acquiesced.
None of this was like her, not the Tamika of the past. Colin would say it first, that her attitude toward sex had always seemed reserved or, worse, scripted. That could be because she’d always had to psyche herself up to have sex with him. This, with Roark, wasn’t planned, it hadn’t even been expected, and yet, here they were.
“I’ll leave first. Don’t be long.”
In seconds she was standing there alone, still trying to wrap her mind around what had just happened and what was undoubtedly about to happen. To hell with that—she could think about all that other stuff later. Right now, she was going to get what she wanted, something she hadn’t done in her past few years. Something she’d regretted allowing Colin to take from her.
Tamika wasn’t going to be nervous. She was thirty-six years old and no stranger to sex. In some cases, she was no stranger to kinky and rough sex, but that was another subject. She stepped into her room and walked immediately to the bathroom. Once inside, she closed and locked that door and went to the sink, turning on the hot and then cold water. Then she just stood there, staring at her reflection in the mirror.
“Fine as wine.” She whispered the words she’d been telling herself since she was sixteen. Why? Because if nobody else told her how good she looked, she’d always be there to tell herself. It had never been her inclination to depend on anybody for anything to be the woman she wanted to be, and yet, she’d once fallen into a trap that had threatened to steal her very soul.
But that wasn’t what she was supposed to be thinking right now. With a shake of her head, she lowered her hands to the water, bent over and splashed water on her face. She repeated the action one more time for good measure before reaching for a hand towel. There was a pile of them folded neatly between both sinks now, as well as a smaller pile of washcloths. Once her face was dry, she grabbed a cloth and dropped it into the sink. Lifting her dress, she removed her panties, the ones that were now drenched in her very natural and extremely enjoyable reaction to Roark’s touch.
After a quick wash-up, she turned off the water and stared at her reflection a few seconds more. She was going to have sex with Roark Donovan, a sexy millionaire who was accused of killing his mother. Well, that was something new to add to the list of the unexpected things that had happened in her life. And just as with the other things, she decided to stop questioning it now. “Life happens fast. What’s most important is that you stay in the driver’s seat and keep moving.” That was what her father used to tell her.
Tonight, she was going to sit tight in the driver’s seat and see exactly where this trip to Roark’s bedroom would take her.
She didn’t keep him waiting long—not because of his directive for her not to do so, but because she was ready.
His door was ajar, and she pushed it open further to step inside. The first thing she felt when she entered was the heat. Not the sexual heat that had engulfed them in the garden, but a real fire-blazing heat, and for just a second, she thought about the flames she’d seen stretching through the windows at the cottage last night. Giving herself a mental shake, Tamika closed and locked the door behind her.
When she didn’t immediately see him, she walked over to the sitting area, where the fire was crackling in the fireplace. Moving closer, she stood there with her arms folded across her chest, staring at the blaze. She’d always been strangely drawn to fire, not in the “I wanna burn shit up” type of way, but in an inquisitive way that had pushed her to learn more about her father’s career and eventually to carve out a notch in that world for herself. If she’d only known then what fire would really come to mean in her life.
She heard him come up behind her this time and instantly leaned back into his embrace as his hands went to her shoulders.
“If you’re having second thoughts, it’s okay. We can just sit and talk.” How was it that this guy’s voice could always wash over her and drape her in this cloak of comfort that was more than unexpected? In the life she’d sworn for herself, it was also undesired. And yet, it felt so good.
“If I had second thoughts, I wouldn’t be here,” she replied honestly, because honest was what she planned to be with any man in her life moving forward. It was something she’d told herself was a necessity and that she wasn’t going to sideline ever again. “Are you having second thoughts?”
The first part of his answer was to lean forward and kiss her neck while his hands moved down her arms to wrap her in a warm hug. “Not at all.”
Well then, she thought and turned in his embrace. When they were facing each other, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for another kiss. The desire between them burned equally as bright as that fire and took barely nothing to be ignited. That was new too. There was no build-up with this guy, no slow burning of waiting and wanting. They’d both just known and as mature adults were acting on their wants.
Score one for the grown and sexy folks.
His arms had gone around her waist, where he’d immediately grabbed her ass, squeezing her plump cheeks appreciatively. She pressed her body into his, enjoying the feel of his longing against her stomach once again. The memory of his rigid length in her hands a little while ago had a moan escaping as she thought of his hard dick being deep inside her very soon.
His mind was on the same track as he pushed her dress up once more. This time he didn’t stop when it was at her waist but inched it up until they had to break the kiss and she could lift her arms so he could take it off completely. She wore only her bra and the golden glow from the fire behind her, and when Roark stepped back, dropping her dress onto the floor, his gaze plastered to her body, there was nothing but appreciation and maybe a pinch of awe in his eyes.
“You’re amazing,” he whispered.
As compliments went, that one was a winner, and Tamika pushed back every offensive and hurtful slur Colin had ever tossed at her in regard to her weight and body type. Folding her arms behind her back, she unsnapped her bra and let her heavy breasts fall free, because if he was going to admire her body, he might as well get it all in one gulp. And that was precisely what he did when she tossed the bra onto the floor to join her dress and his eyes rested on her breasts.
“Gorgeous,” he mumbled and immediately touched a hand to each globe.
He kneaded and squeezed, taking her taut nipples between his fingers before moaning his appreciation. Her eyes closed momentarily to the warmth of this touch, and the tendrils of pleasure that soared through her breasts with his ministrations. When he lowered himself so his face was buried between her tits, she gasped and clapped her hands to the back of his head as if to hold him there forevermore. The sounds he made assured her he didn’t mind being smothered by her plentiful breasts. In fact, if she wasn’t thinking that he liked them, she knew for certain when he turned his face and opened his mouth wide to take a nipple inside.
This rich, fine man could suck titties for days, and she could definitely appreciate that. His mouth moved over her like he’d been starving for this feast she was offering. While he sucked one breast, his hand worked the other, squeezing and now pinching her nipple until a tiny spike of pain exploded and rained down more pleasure that trickled straight to her crotch. He moved to the next breast with no intention of slighting her in any way, sucking and squeezing until she was biting her lower lip in an attempt to keep from yelling out his name.
When he finally tore his mouth away and stood in front of her again, Tamika went straight for his shirt, pulling it from his pants and lifting it up over his head. His chest was bare before her now, and this time she sucked in a breath to keep from saying “dayuuuum” out loud. She’d known he was a nicely built guy, but glimpsing all that golden-brown skin stretched over nothing but muscle in the glow of the firelight made her mouth water. She ran her fingers over his thick biceps, loving the feel of physical strength there that matched the strength of his character she’d witnessed shining through earlier today, when he’d tossed those detectives out of his house.
He stood still as her palms flattened over the most defined pectoral muscles she’d ever admired close up. Why he hid all this under those dress shirts and ties, and even the fitting T-shirts she’d seen him in, was a mystery. Then again, he couldn’t actually walk around with his bare chest out 24/7—women would be dropping their panties the second he walked into a room. Leaning in, she kissed one dark nipple then let her tongue run over it. His hands went to her head, holding her close in a way similar to what she’d done to him. Then his fingers were in her hair, scraping along her scalp as he’d done earlier. That, of all the things he’d done to her so far, was the most enticing. She’d never thought her scalp to be a pleasure point, but the slight tremble in her thighs with the first stroke of his fingers was a tell-tale sign. She switched to the next pectoral and he continued driving his fingers through her hair.
“Do you want the bed?” His voice was gruff with need that eased over her body like hot oil.
“Right now, I only want you.”
Roark was apparently cool with that, because he lowered her to the floor, where she noticed the thick cream-colored blanket for the first time. It was positioned right in front of the fire. Obviously, Roark had suspected this would be their spot. When she was seated on the floor where he’d also placed a bunch of pillows she recognized from the couches in the center of the room, Roark stood beside her, easing the belt from the hoops on his jeans.
Okay, now she was getting a personal strip show. She was definitely down for that. He’d already removed his shoes and socks, another thing she hadn’t noticed before, but his belt joined her pile of clothes on the floor and his fingers went to the snap of his jeans.
“Do you like what you see?” he asked as he dragged the zipper down slow enough to cause the beginnings of a cardiac event on her part.
She licked her lips. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to like it much more when you’re finished.”
He chuckled. “Damn, I enjoy your candor.”
And she enjoyed his British accent. This clearly wasn’t the first time she’d noticed it, but it was the first time she realized just how much she liked the sound of every word he said, because it sounded different than she’d ever heard those words spoken before.
The jeans came off and the gray boxers followed, and all that was left was his long, thick dick bobbing as if performing for her. She didn’t lick her lips again, but she did swallow, hard, at the sight. With a stilted curse, he moved to their pile of clothes and found his wallet, which he hunted through to pull out a condom. For a moment she felt like an idiot for not thinking about protection in the time she’d been ogling him. Telling herself she would’ve thought about it before they went too far, she lowered herself down to the pillows as he came closer.
When he dropped the packet onto the rug beside them and began to spread her legs apart, he must’ve noticed her frown. “Not yet, darlin’. I need to taste you first.” He looked like a predator, staring up at her while moving his body between her legs. As he pressed them open wider, his hands touched the skin of her ankles, up to her calves and then to the inner thighs.
“Is this, like, a taste test? Do you sample every part of me before you decide if you want to go further?”
His face had been buried in one thigh, his tongue stroking along her skin, his cheeks rubbing over her like he was feeling something special in the thickness there. “I already know how far I’m going to go with you, Tamika. The tasting is just the preamble to the main show.”
She wanted to scream for him to take all of her right this very moment, but she refrained, clenching and releasing her fingers as anticipation mixed with arousal threatened to strangle her with the potent need.
With one hand, he spread her pussy lips until she was totally bared to him. If there were ever a time to be self-conscious, now was definitely it, because Roark certainly was looking at her as if he were surveying a new purchase. When he lifted his gaze to her, all she could see was fiery passion brimming in them. His lips were parted, and his breathing had picked up. He licked his lips this time, a motion that made her squirm beneath him when she imagined that tongue touching her very soon.
Soon wasn’t fast enough, but when he finally lowered his head and did a quick lick of her clit, she almost jumped up off the floor it felt so damned good. Using his other arm, he grabbed her left thigh, lifting her leg and dropping it over his strong shoulder. Easing his other hand from where it still held her plump folds open, he pushed her right thigh back further and then he dove in, licking and sucking her as if she were a delectable meal that had been placed before him.
Tamika grabbed her breasts, kneading them in the same way he had, tweaking her nipples and then finally she lifted her hips to thrust against his hungry mouth. Pleasure plowed through her so forcefully she gasped and moaned louder than she intended.
“Let it out, darlin’. No need to be
shy,” he grumbled when he pulled away from her momentarily.
Shy was never something Tamika had claimed to be, but she could admit she was trying to hold back with Roark. A part of her didn’t want him to see how very good everything he did made her feel. The thought of doing so made her feel too vulnerable, something she’d never wanted to feel again, but it was getting harder and harder to hold on to that restraint. It just felt too damn good.
He licked her hungrily, thrusting two fingers inside her now, pumping and sucking her simultaneously. She was so wet she felt her essence trickling down the crease of her ass. There was going to be one hell of a wet spot on this blanket when she got up, but Roark didn’t act like he cared. To the contrary, he eased his fingers out of her, rubbing them along her slit, moaning and whispering how wet she was and how much it turned him on.
“Now,” she whispered. Her eyes were closed at the time, her hands still cupping her breasts, legs spread in the position he’d put them in, and she was ready. Oh, sweet goodness, was she ready.
“Yeah, now is good,” he replied and eased her leg down from his shoulder.
She opened her eyes to see him move away from her and reach for the condom packet. Normally, she liked the act of smoothing a condom down a man’s rigid length, but her body was so taut with desire if she moved again before climaxing, she was certain something might break.
Roark must’ve sensed her desperation, because when he came between her legs this time, he lifted them both, pulling her closer to him as he rested her ankles on his shoulders. With his palms flat on the floor on either side of her, he positioned his dick, aimed and thrust deep into her in one quick push. He grunted and she screamed, and the preamble was over.
He rode her like he owned her, stuffing his thick dick so deep inside her Tamika knew he was touching essential organs. This wasn’t lovemaking; it wasn’t even sex—Roark Donovan was fucking her in a way she’d only dreamed of being fucked before, and she loved every second of it. Minutes later when he turned her over and put her on her knees, she backed her ass up against his dick and felt another sting of pleasure as he slapped both ass cheeks before pounding into her again. Her breasts bobbed with the motion, and his groans grew louder. Her screams had subsided a bit, but that was because they’d been exchanged with her repeating his name, as if verbally cementing the fact that he was owning her pussy at this moment.