by Amelia James
The Devil
Made Me Do It
A collection of wickedly fun love stories
by
Amelia James
Copyright 2011 by Amelia James
All rights reserved. No part of this book shall be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, magnetic, photographic including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher. No patent liability is assumed with respect to the use of the information contained herein. Although every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher and author assume no responsibility for errors or omissions. Neither is any liability assumed for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Warning: Explicit language
Other titles by Amelia James
Coming soon:
Tell Me You Want Me
Secret Storm
This book is dedicated to:
My husband and my friends
For encouraging me to get in touch with my inner slut.
Contents
Contents 6
Midnight Rendezvous 1
Party Favors 9
Bottoms Up 23
Performance Anxiety 33
A Quickie:
Mattress Inventory 42
A Quickie:
Lunch Date 48
A Quickie:
Late for Work 51
Playing Rough 56
Daydreams 64
Midnight Snack 73
Wicked Games 78
The Devil Made Me Do It 92
Disobedient 108
Ebook Bonus: Disobedient….…………………..109
Midnight Rendezvous
It was a dark and stormy night. Lighting streaked across the sky like silent wraiths chased by roaring thunder. The wind howled through the trees like—
“Get a hold of yourself, Gwendolyn!” Gwen Carter giggled at her melodramatic musings as she flipped the windshield wipers on, her hands trembling slightly on the steering wheel. A brilliant streak of lightning pointed the way to her destination, Dunbarton Castle. ‘Room four,’ the note said. She parked her car in front of the restored highland fortress and re-read the note.
I saw you on the street today and knew I had to have you. Dunbarton Castle, room four, midnight. I’m waiting for you.
The computer-printed note was unsigned, but she knew it was from her husband, Jake. Their vacation in Scotland was a mutual fantasy come true. And just last night they talked about making other fantasies come true….
“Tell me your fantasy, Gwen.” Jake breathed the words on his wife’s bare skin and pulled her closer. His lips touched her shoulder and she sighed.
“Tell me yours,” she challenged, snuggling against his long hard body, nesting into the soft sheets.
Jake smiled. He hoped she was still feeling bold after their lovemaking. She surprised him at the restaurant when she told him she wanted his cock for dessert. She surprised him even more when they got back to their hotel and carried out her suggestion, yanking down his pants and giving him the blowjob of his life. Maybe being on vacation in a foreign country, away from family and friends gave her more confidence. But apparently, he would have to make the first confession.
“My fantasy,” he paused, searching for the perfect words, “is a midnight rendezvous with a fiery red-haired stranger. I’d take her someplace quiet and private and have my way with her.” He wound one of her red curls around his finger.
“A stranger?” Gwen’s green eyes flashed, and she didn’t have to say a word to let her husband know she didn’t like that idea.
“But you would be the stranger, baby.” He kissed her, stirring her senses as his tongue explored her mouth.
“Hmm…so there’s a little bit of role-playing involved.” An interesting concept, she thought, drawing hearts on his chest with her fingertips.
“Your turn.” Jake had no idea what she dreamed about, but he longed to fulfill her fantasies.
“Oh…I don’t know.” Was she brave enough to tell him what she really wanted? “It might shock you.”
“I doubt it.” But he hoped it would.
“Now keep in mind this is just a fantasy,” she warned him. “It doesn’t mean I actually want to do this.”
“I understand.”
Gwen took a deep breath and gave him a shy smile. “I would like…. I dream about….” Just say it, Gwen! “I dream about you…and another man making love to me at the same time.”
Jake closed his eyes and let the image fill his mind. Making love to his wife…another man touching her…. Blood boiled in his veins. He couldn’t decide if the idea was shocking or exciting.
Gwen bit her lower lip. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you.”
“No,” Jake smiled and stroked her hair. “I wanted to know.”
“It’s just a stupid dream—”
He kissed her again, cutting off her excuses. “It’s your dream,” he whispered, looking into her eyes. “And I’d love to make it come true, but….”
“I don’t want you to.” Her arms slid around his neck, pulling his mouth to hers as he rolled on top of her. “I don’t want anyone but you.”
Their bodies twined together, and as his cock slid into her, he couldn’t mistake the renewed wetness between her thighs. No doubt her fantasy excited her as much as it excited him. “I love you,” he moaned, kissing her as he moved inside her, rebuilding her fire.
“I love you, too.” Gwen wrapped her legs around his hips. She looked up at him and flashed a wicked grin. “I’ll be your stranger.”
“When?” His heart skipped and he started making plans.
“Anytime,” she purred.
His blue eyes sparkled. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
“Please do.” Gwen sighed and closed her eyes, sliding her hands down his back to his bottom, holding him close. Her fantasy could never be real, but she was content to let it remain a fantasy….
An uncertain smile twisted her lips as she stepped inside the castle. A key was enclosed with the note, so she ignored the sleepy innkeeper and found room four on the second floor. Turning the key in the ancient lock, she opened the door and caught her breath, sure she’d stepped back in time. The first thing she noticed was the gigantic goose down bed, covered in velvet with silken curtains draped from carved wooden posts at each corner. A tantalizing fire warmed the stone fireplace, drawing her into the room. Over the mantle hung an ancient portrait of a fierce Highland warrior. Gwen studied it for a moment as lightning lit his face, adding heat and passion to his wild blue eyes.
Gwen smiled. Blue eyes were her favorite. Jake had blue eyes, deep blue eyes, and chocolate-brown hair, broad shoulders, and six foot three inches of pure male muscle. Even after ten years of marriage, she never got tired of looking at him.
The electric chandelier burned much too brightly for the medieval atmosphere, so Gwen decided to light some candles instead. She found a few and was searching for matches when lightning exploded in the courtyard and the power went out, plunging her into darkness.
Gwen stood still for several heart-racing seconds while she waited for her eyes to adjust. But before she could regain her bearings, someone grabbed her from behind and tied a blindfold over her eyes. Too stunned to react, Gwen was lifted off her feet and tossed onto the bed.
“Jake!” she cried out, hoping her husband was the one tying
her wrists and ankles to the bedposts. “Jake, please tell me it’s you.” She didn’t get an answer.
Her captor tested her bonds, making sure they would hold her without hurting her. Then he turned his attention to removing her clothes. Gwen gasped and squirmed as he trailed his fingers up her long legs to the hem of her dress. An intoxicating combination of fear and excitement streaked through her outstretched limbs. She had no real proof this man was her husband, and she seriously questioned her decision to go without underwear for the night. A few tiny buttons were all that protected her quivering skin from his touch, and he made quick work of those. He tore off the delicate spaghetti straps and tossed the garment aside, leaving her naked and helpless on the bed. Her trembling nipples puckered into tight buds. The cool night air whispered over her exposed clit, making it glisten in the dark.
Her unknown tormentor watched her struggle against the bindings, tossing her head, searching blindly for an escape. Long red curls spilled over the pillow, creating a fiery halo around her face. Her pale skin flushed pink from exertion, fear, and maybe just a little excitement. He smiled, pleased with his work.
“What are you going to do to me?” Gwen tugged at her restraints, not really wanting to escape, but not knowing where he was or what he was doing pushed her very close to panic.
Unable to see, Gwen’s remaining senses became acutely aware of his actions. She felt the bed sag as he kneeled between her legs, felt the warmth of his naked skin as he pressed his body on top of her. The familiar scent of shaving cream and just a little sweat surrounded her, and she heard a soft moan escape his lips as his mouth captured hers, the taste of Scottish ale on his tongue.
Her body arched into his, her hips lifting off the bed to rub against his erection. He indulged her for a moment, grinding against her, then moved away. She tugged at her bindings, wanting to wrap her arms or legs or something around him to keep him close and pull him in.
Feather light kisses moved down her throat, barely brushing her tight nipples as she felt him move to one side of the bed. He seemed to be reaching for something, but what?
A caress like none she’d ever felt before swirled around her breasts. Too soft to be his fingers, too dry to be his tongue, the soft strokes teased her nipples.
“What is that?” she moaned.
Softness touched her lips, brushing beneath her nose, and she instantly recognized the scent—a rose petal. She remembered seeing a vase of roses beside the bed.
The rose petal brushed lightly over her nipples, followed by his lips. Drawing a map with the rose, he explored the trail with his tongue, moving down her body between her spread legs. The rose petal swirled over her wet flesh, and then his tongue invaded her. Gwen moaned and mewed as his warm wet tongue slid around, over, and inside her heated core.
Her senses were on edge, aware of everything at once and nothing at all. Awareness became realization, and Gwen suddenly knew there was someone else in the room. The distinctively male scent of leather and straw teased her. A calloused fingertip stroked across her cheek. Was he there to watch or—
Another set of lips closed over her nipple. Gwen gasped out loud. Two men—one at her breast and one at her thighs—two men were pleasing her at the same time. Her favorite fantasy.
Gwen’s mystery lover raised his mouth to her ear. “Such a bonnie lass you are,” he whispered in a rich Scottish brogue. “I shall greatly enjoy feasting upon you this night.”
His kiss was sweet, like honey and some ancient whisky. Gwen pulled at her restraints until they bit into her skin, longing to touch him. “Who are you?”
“Tis no matter, wee lassie. I am here to please you.” He drew circles around her nipples with the tip of his tongue. “That is all you need to know.”
Gwen surrendered herself to pleasure. While Jake suckled her aching clit, her unknown lover suckled her swollen breasts, devoting equal attention to each one. Feeling the heat pouring from her body, Jake slipped two fingers inside her, stoking the fire between her legs. Two more fingers joined them, filling her, stretching her. Together the men stroked her to her first orgasm of the night. Gwen squealed and arched off the bed, an inferno racing through her blood.
Jake raised his head and captured her cries in his mouth. Breaking their kiss, he kneeled over her and brushed his cock against her still wet lips. She opened her mouth and drew it in, swirling her tongue around its head. Hearing her husband gasp, she sucked him harder, tasting the first drops of his pleasure.
Seizing the opportunity, the Scot pressed his lips between her legs, kissing her softly, then drawing his tongue in slow, maddening circles until she cried out a second time, sending white-hot lightning through her entire body. Gwen lay limp on the bed, wondering what unknown exquisite torture would come next.
She didn’t wonder for long. Her mystery lover sat up on his knees and drove his erection into her hard and deep. She raised her hips, begging for all of him. He didn’t deny her. Gripping her thighs, he pounded into her swollen flesh while Jake rolled her nipples between his teeth and tongue, sliding his hand down her body to stroke her swollen nub. Her body twitched and twisted, overwhelmed by sensations she couldn’t name. Faster and harder, both men moved in a perfect rhythm while Gwen could only marvel at the storm their bodies created inside her.
Jake marveled at her wild response. “I can’t wait any longer, baby.” He moved to take her as the Scot pulled out.
“Don’t wait.” She spread her legs as far as the bindings allowed. “Take me now.”
“As you wish.” He rocked back on his knees and entered her with a grinding thrust that nearly splintered her senses.
But something was missing. Where was her mystery lover? Her breasts ached for his touch but she didn’t feel him there. Instead, she felt his hot breath first and then his tongue—she couldn’t believe it—she felt his tongue touch her clit. The thrusts of his tongue complemented the thrusts of her husband’s cock, laving her when Jake slid out, pulling back when he slid in deep. This was better than anything she imagined. Relentless pleasure was all she knew; the aching, pounding, driving force consumed her. When Gwen could no longer stand it, she screamed, drowning out the storm still raging outside the castle. She felt Jake’s hot release inside her and the Scot’s hot release on her breasts.
Barely aware of reality and still quivering, Gwen felt the blindfold being removed. She felt a light, sweet kiss press against her lips, and she looked up into the wild blue eyes of a highland warrior.
“May all your fantasies come true, lassie.” He winked at her and then he was gone.
When Jake untied her, she immediately rolled into his arms. “I love you,” she whispered, kissing him.
“I love you, too,” he kissed her back.
“Who was he?” She had to know.
“Who was who?”
“The other man.”
“Other man?” Jake frowned and shook his head. “I was the only one here, baby.”
“But…there was another man,” Gwen said. “A highlander.”
“I know two men is your favorite fantasy, but I just can’t share you with anyone.” Jake smiled and kissed her. “Your imagination’s working overtime. Get some sleep.”
Gwen sighed and snuggled close to her husband. But she couldn’t sleep. She knew there was another man. His touch was too real to be imagined.
A last distant flash of lightning illuminated the room, drawing Gwen’s eyes to the painting above the fireplace. Drawn out of bed, she walked to the painting, studying it.
It was him. Her mystery lover.
The highland warrior in the portrait had the same wild blue eyes, the same hands, the same lips she knew so well. Thick black hair fell to his shoulders. Braids at each temple marked him as chieftain of his clan. His powerfully built body showed the strength of a natural leader, and the sensuous smile on his lips showed the skill of a practiced lover.
She ran her fingers over his painted skin, still feeling the warmth of his caress. Gwen touched a
small brass plaque in the corner of the portrait.
Duncan MacKenzie, Laird of Dunbarton. Born 1527, died 1564. Known throughout the highlands as a protector of his clan. Known for all time as every woman’s fantasy.
Party Favors
“Trick-or-treat!”
Heather O’Connor smiled down at the four little hobgoblins on her doorstep. Well, only one of them resembled anything close to a goblin, she thought, taking note of their costumes as she dropped Hershey bars into their wide open baskets. The fairy princess smiled and said thank you. Wolverine took his candy and ran to the next house. Boba Fett and the ghoulish-looking urchin chimed, “Thank you, ma’am,” and took off after their friends.
“Happy Halloween,” Heather said as she closed the front door.
“Better put your costume on, baby,” Eric O’Connor glanced at the clock. “Our guests will be here any minute.”
“I’m almost ready.” She put the goodie basket on the hall table and took a long look at her husband. Wow. She knew he looked good in a uniform, but that French Foreign Legionnaire’s costume nearly brought her to her knees. Its caramel-colored lieutenant’s jacket and ivory pants enhanced Eric’s already striking features, complementing his brown hair and tanned skin. Shiny black boots, a gun belt, and crisscrossed bandoleers completed the fantasy. Heather sighed. She could just look at him for days—and touch him forever.