De La Porte Fashion: The Complete Box Set

by Mj Fields

  “You’re not even looking at the stars, babe.”

  “Am, too.”

  He smiles as he pushes a strand of my hair from my lips that, yes, feel a little bruised. Then he shakes his head. “And you’re cold.”

  “I’m good.”

  “You’re better than good. So fucking good I’m pretty sure I bullshitted my way through that last part.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “Do you feel properly dated?”

  “I do.”

  “You ready to go back to my place so I can violate you?”

  I try to play off cool but fail. “Why not right here?”

  “I’m not gonna lie, that was the plan. But if I can make you look at me like that for another thirty minutes, you’re gonna be so hot that I’m going to get away with playing out every filthy fantasy I’ve had over the last hour and a half without any resistance.”

  “In case you didn’t notice, I’m game. Do your worst, right here, right now.”

  He slowly looks me up and down before his eyes meet mine. There is a different heat level in them. “You have an aversion to beds?”

  “I have an aversion to waiting.” He laughs.

  I’m not joking...at all.

  “My bed has four posts.” He bends down to kiss me then pulls back right before our lips smash. “You have an aversion to being restrained?”

  “I have an aversion to the man who held nothing back last night holding back now.”

  “I have an aversion to you taking a major mind-trip after getting properly fucked and taking off.” He pushes me forward to a seated position and stands. “So, no bed, no overnight, means no filthy fucking. And babe, last night, I was looking for a second go, so I held back.” He turns and starts to pick up the containers, tossing them into the coolest picnic basket I’ve ever seen.

  “I wasn’t in the right head space last night.” I crawl toward him and reach up. “I’m in the proper head”—I pause and wink—“space right now.”

  I make quick work of unbuttoning his pants and reaching inside to pull him out. Afraid he may stop me again; I don’t dick around this time.

  Taking him in my hand, I stroke him, and when a groan escapes him, I fear he will pull back. I take him as far as I can into my mouth and hollow my cheeks as I suck his hard flesh wrapped in velvet. He grips my head and thrusts in farther than I can handle.

  I gag as I look up at him, at his eyes filled with lust and need. I don’t pull back. I conform.

  “Fuck, babe, just...fuck.” He releases his hold on me.

  I stroke him as I pull back, sucking harder.

  He moves his hand beneath my chin, stroking it, then holds his finger out, my saliva stringing from my chin to his finger. He rubs it up and down his exposed flesh. So fucking sexy.

  “You want my cock; it’s yours. Don’t hold back, because I won’t.” He grips my hair as he thrusts in and out of my mouth, while I pump and suck him harder, deeper, faster, needier.

  When his grip tightens on my hair, holding my head still, I feel his cock twitch.

  “You ready for dessert, gorgeous.”

  I nod ferociously up and down as I continue sucking and stroking.

  When he grips the back of my head and stills me again, I know he’s going to come, and I know I have never wanted to taste anyone’s cum more than I want to taste his.

  “Fuuuuck,” he cries out into the dark, starlit night.

  When I hear its echo return from the distance, I feel powerful in a position that has never made me feel anything other than used.

  I swallow everything he gives me, and when he begins to pull back, I wrap my arms behind his legs and take him in farther.

  “Autumn of Queens, you fucking wreck me.”

  Several moments pass with my head now resting against his leg, his dick no longer in my mouth, as we both take in a moment that obviously was momentous for both of us. And, for once, I know that’s not an overthought realization.

  I’m still holding him as he gently runs his fingertips over my scalp while we listen to each other’s breaths even out and the waves crashing just ten feet away.

  When I begin to shake from the cold, he reaches down and lifts me up. “What would it take to get you to move south?”

  I shake my head. “Don’t.”

  He wraps his arms around me and pulls me against him.

  “Jesus, babe, that was amazing.”

  “Now who’s on a head-trip?” I make light of what just transpired.

  “Let’s get the hell out of here. You’re shivering.” What he does next blows me away.

  He lifts my chin up and kisses me so deeply, softly, reverently, licking inside my mouth then resting his forehead against mine.

  “Fuck.”

  I smile sadly and reply, “Fuck.”

  We have a little spat in his vehicle as we head back. I told him I had no intention of meeting his family, and he asked what I was going to do about Angela.

  When I pause, he pulls the vehicle over, puts it in park and looks at me.

  I admit to him that I lied about Angela.

  For a moment, I see hurt in his eyes before he looks away and pulls back onto the road. It can’t be more than three minutes of silence, but for some reason, it feels like an eternity.

  He finally breaks the silence with a simple statement, followed by a request.

  “I get being safe and taking precautions, and I applaud it. But Autumn, don’t lie to me again.”

  “Okay.”

  Hand in hand, we walk into the hotel, and I watch how people look at him. Honestly, had I seen him before he hit on me, I would have thought he was one of the stars who vacationed in the Hamptons.

  Eric has movie star good looks, is built like a Greek god, and carries himself with more confidence than anyone else my age who I’ve ever encountered. His eyes never leave me or in the direction we are heading, even when we pass by women who are far more beautiful than me. Even when they whisper about him, and they do whisper about this man. Still, he doesn’t so much as glance sideways.

  My ex ate up the attention and shit on me in the process.

  “How can I get you to move south?” he said in a post orgasmic haze.

  Promise me to continue being exactly who you are right now, and I will follow you anywhere, my inner believer in love, the one who never suffered the fall, answered in my head.

  The realist in me responded the way I should have.

  In the moment.

  In the elevator, he turns me toward him as he walks backward to the corner. He places my hands on his hips and takes my face gently in his hands. First, he kisses the top of my head, then my forehead, my cheeks—one then the next —my nose and, as he’s about to kiss my lips, the elevator stops.

  I fight to tip my head down and close my mouth. He smirks and gives me a lazy wink as he bites the tip of his tongue. Only then do I realize my tongue is quivering in my mouth.

  He chuckles as he wraps his arm around me, palms the side of my head, and pulls it to his chest.

  I can’t help giggling.

  “Hold on to that feeling,” an older man’s voice booms. “You’ll need to reflect on moments like this to get you through the hell she’ll cause you, son.”

  “Well, if I talk about her like that in front of her—hell, if I even think it—I deserve whatever hell she chooses to give me.”

  A woman laughs. “Cheaper to keep her, he says. You know what that makes me wanna do?”

  “Bitch, complain, spend more money,” the man huffs.

  “Outlive your miserable ass,” she snaps.

  Biting my tongue, I look up and see Eric glaring at one of them. I know even before I glance behind me who it is.

  When I do look back, my eyes meet the eyes of a woman who is beautiful but looks like her soul has been taken.

  “Three kids, two mortgages, and I’m still working like a dog to make sure that smile never falls, sweetheart,” he sneers.

  “If you were a golf p
ro, I’d buy that work nonsense,” she says sternly.

  When the elevator stops, Eric turns me around and guides me out of the elevator. “Some advice?” He doesn’t wait for a response. “Call Rebecca Smith. She’s a relationship therapist in the area, the two of you need some therapy.”

  I bite back a laugh until the door shuts. “Seek counseling?”

  “I’m not even sure that will help the two of them.” He “I’m not even sure that will help the two of them.” He sighs. “What floor are you on?”

  I look around and only now realize he got us off on three. “Five.” I laugh as I spot the stairway and wiggle out of his grasp. “Wanna race?” I take off running and hear him laughing behind me. I’m sure he could easily beat me, but apparently, Prince Eric is a gentleman.

  When I get to the top, I look down and see him holding his phone up in front of him, smiling.

  I throw my hands up. “Victory is mine.”

  He shoves his phone in his pocket. “Sometimes you have to lose a battle to win a war, babe.” He takes the last set of stairs two at a time. “Besides, I’m carrying your bag and mine.”

  “That you are.” I squeeze his bicep. “Such a gentleman.”

  He walks into me, pinning me against the door with his body pressed against mine, hard against soft, heat against heat, and finally, lips against lips.

  He ends the kiss by sinking his teeth into my lower lip and pulling it out. Right before it seems it could become painful, he releases it and warns me, “I left the gentleman on floor two. You wanna go back and find him or are you ready for some filthy fucking?”

  “Wreck me.”

  He closes his eyes and inhales sharply. When he opens them, my spine tingles as the look in them is so intense, so deep that I feel as if he’s searching for my soul...to steal it.

  The door opens behind me, and I nearly fall back, but he presses his hand firmly against the small of my back, steadying me.

  “First thing you need to understand is I know this isn’t your norm.”

  I swallow hard as he steps into me and gently forces me

  I swallow hard as he steps into me and gently forces me to do the same.

  “The second is, it’s not mine either. I’ve never needed to fuck someone the way I need to fuck you. And when I say

  need, Autumn, I mean need.”

  I nod and feel my eyes widen.

  “Third, don’t say no to anything because you’re afraid. I would never hurt your body, but I will push your limits. I know you want them pushed.”

  Shame, I almost feel ashamed that I am so willing and wanton for whatever he is going to give me.

  “Fourth, what we do as adults stays between us, you, and me. I would never betray your trust in me, nor do I think you’re easy, or I wouldn’t be here.”

  “Fifth, what fucking room are we heading to?”

  “Five-eleven.” My voice is so husky that I barely recognize it.

  “Good, we’re here.”

  He hands me my bag, and I reach inside, looking for the key card. My stupid hands are trembling so badly that I drop it and the entire contents spill all over the ground.

  “Dammit,” I grumble as I start to bend down.

  He grabs the key card and hands it to me. “I’ll get the rest. Go in. Get naked.”

  Get naked? Why is that so...fucking hot!

  I hurry to the bathroom and pee, wash under my arms, between my legs, brush my teeth, look in the mirror, and decide immediately that’s a bad idea. I look like hell.

  I hear him knock on the door. “You okay in there?”

  “Yeah.”

  I glance at myself one last time and decide, fuck it.

  Throwing off the rest of my clothes, I kick them into the corner, take a deep breath, and close my eyes, picturing the way he looks at me for courage.

  When I walk out, he bites his lower lip as he assesses me from top to bottom and back up.

  “Everything okay?” I ask, trying to exude way more confidence than I’m feeling.

  “Just need to use the bathroom.” He steps aside, giving me room to get by him. “Why don’t you go make yourself comfortable on the bed, face down.”

  Oddly specific, but I don’t argue.

  The room is dimly lit by the several candles scattered around it. The bed is stripped, and all that remains on it is a sheet, a pillow, and a small towel.

  On the nightstand are two bottles of water, a bottle of Motrin, and a bottle of—I pick it up to read the label—coconut massage oil.

  “Did I forget anything?”

  I turn back and see Eric in the doorway. He’s shirtless and in black cotton briefs.

  I shake my head.

  With a menacing smirk, he asks, “Are you ready for a relaxing massage?”

  “I’m supposed to relax when your hands are on me?”

  “Something like that,” he says as he walks over and grabs the towel off the bed.

  “Lie horizontal so I can work you from both ends. Autumn.” His use of my name snaps me out of my stupor. “Trust, babe?”

  I nod. “Trust.”

  “Then get your fine self on the bed and don’t make me say it again.” He snaps the towel in my direction and winks. “Go.”

  Lying on the bed, I feel the towel drape over my ass.

  “Now try to relax.”

  I wiggle around until I’m comfortable and do so while watching him walk over to his bag. As he bends down, I watch his ass muscles and the back of his thighs flex. He grabs something out of it then walks over and slides his fingertips up my spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

  “This is to make sure you can focus on pleasure.”

  I look up to see him holding out a sleep mask for my approval before he gently covers my eyes with it.

  “You okay?”

  “I am.”

  “Not afraid of the dark?” “Nope, I’m all good.” Perfect.

  Seconds later, I hear the sound of rain, feel a cool breeze, and then warm liquid being dripped down my spine. Next, I sense the heat of his body near mine, and then I hear the sound of his hands rubbing together.

  “Touch,” he whispers as he puts his hands on my shoulders and gently but firmly rubs down to my lower back. He works my back, my arms, my shoulders, relaxing me more than I imagine Helga would have.

  I hear him move to the other side of the bed and whisper, “Touch,” again before he grips my ankles and rubs his freshly oiled hands up my thighs, stopping where the towel covers. He works them both together, kneading, rubbing, delighting muscles I never realized I had until his hands caressed them.

  He takes my ankle and lifts it. I feel what I assume are his lips against the inside of my ankle as he pushes them toward my butt, stretching me in a position I am not accustomed to. Then he takes the other and does the same. When he releases them, I know they’re resting over his shoulders.

  “Touch,” he whispers as he skates his hands down my ankles to the back of my thighs and up to my ass cheeks. He rubs them at the same time, squeezing, kneading, palming, and repeat. Then he slides his hands between my thighs and caresses the innermost part of them while putting slight pressure on my outer most private parts.

  “How’s that feel, gorgeous?”

  “It feels delightful and naughty, but not filthy.”

  “Patience, babe. I know how badly you want me inside you. Your pussy is weeping.”

  I stiffen at the thought of him seeing every part of me, up close and personal, in the light.

  “Never seen such a beautiful pussy.” He slides his hands back down to my ankles then steps back, taking one then the other and setting them on the bed. “Fucking perfect.”

  And all insecurity is gone.

  His next instruction is delivered in a rougher, raw, carnal tone. “Roll over on your back now.”

  On my back, I feel oil dripping onto my tits then hear, “Touch.”

  He grips my shoulders and rubs out any tension that is still present. He runs one hand down
my sternum, then the next, then in sync. Next, he runs them under my breastbone and around the swell of my breasts, again and again.

  I feel my nipples peak painfully and arch my back, hoping he gives me some relief from the sweet ache he’s causing.

  When he cups my breasts, I feel his thumbs lightly skim them, and then release as he runs them down my belly.

  “Eric,” I whisper.

  “Shh...” he hushes me.

  I arch my head back when I feel heat and hardness against my cheek and know the only thing between us is black fabric. I reach up and push my hand down the waistband, pulling him free.

  “No hands,” he whispers as he runs his down between my legs, still avoiding my pussy.

  I lower my hands and move my head to the side to lick his shaft.

  He groans then cups my breast while spreading my lips. I push against his touch.

  I feel his soft hair and hot breath before his hungry mouth takes my nipple, sucking it. Arching my back, I press against his mouth while thrusting into his hand, wanting his fingers inside, not toying with me outside. Then I lick to the tip of his cock and suck on it like a kitten does milk. He thrusts, giving me more that I take eagerly.

  Still sucking my tit, he splits me in two with one finger and hisses when I suck him in farther.

  “On your stomach,” he demands as he steps away.

  I turn over then feel his arm under my waist, lifting me. I assist then feel a pillow beneath my hips.

  “Touch,” he whispers when he pulls me down to the edge of the bed and grips my ankles, laying them on his shoulders. Then he skates his hands down my body until he gets to my core. And then...then I feel him push a finger inside me, his tongue joining it as he licks me over and over again. Each lick makes a longer pass until I feel his tongue rimming my ass. Then he runs his finger from my pussy to my asshole. “Touch,” he hisses.

  I ready myself for something I’ve always avoided.

  “Relax and trust me, babe. Breathe in.”

  As I do, I feel oil dripping between my cheeks, and then I feel his fingers gently nudge.