by Eden Summers
“You mentioned before that no man had ever brought you pleasure.”
She nodded. “Except you.”
“So tell me now, do I make you feel good?”
He ran his index finger through the wet juices of her slit and she responded with a gasp.
“Yes,” she panted, swallowed. “I love how you touch me.”
With teasing slowness he nudged two fingers inside her core, then retreated. He repeated the movement over and over and over again, each time sinking a little deeper until her hands clung to the headboard and she whimpered in need.
He lowered himself down her body, licking a path down her stomach. One of her hands clutched his hair, her fingers gripping the strands tight enough to make his cock jerk. He kissed her curls and swiped her clit with his tongue.
“Oh, god, Mitchell.” Her hips rocked with his strokes, each motion sinking them deeper. The sound of her cries, the suction of her pussy, the heat of her body, drove him wild. He needed to take her. To sink into her. To spend himself in the most enticing woman he’d ever seen.
He twisted and turned his fingers with each withdrawal, hoping to find her sweet spot. At the same time, he sucked her clit into his mouth. Two strokes later he was rewarded with the first spasm of her core.
“Mitchell.” She cried his name and pulled at his hair. He didn’t stop. He worked her harder, flicking and licking the bundle of nerves until her back arched off the bed and she gasped with pleasure. Watching her writhe in orgasm filled him with overpowering emotion. His heart palpitated, his stomach turned, and his throat tightened. He clenched his eyes closed, silently thanking her for the trust she’d gifted him.
Gradually her body stilled, the only sound between them coming from their frantic breaths.
“Ready for round two?”
She chuckled as he made his way up her body, biting and licking her salty flesh. He couldn’t look into her eyes, not now. Even though she couldn’t see him, he still felt exposed, his heart on his sleeve ready to give to her.
“I don’t think I’ll ever want to stop.”
He grazed his teeth over her breast. “Don’t tell me that or I’ll never let you go.”
Her lips pressed together in a bashful smile. He reached for the bedside table and retrieved a condom. As he sheathed himself in quick jerks, she ran her nails down his waist, sending goose bumps on a burning trail around his body.
“Mitchell?”
He rested himself between her thighs, nuzzled the base of her neck and inhaled the lingering scent of her perfume. “Mmm?”
“Can we do this differently?”
He leaned back on his arms and peered down at her. “What do you mean?”
Her throat convulsed with a swallow. “Can I be on top?”
He blinked. Were there twenty-four hours in a day? Hell yes. “I think I can accommodate that.”
Clutching her around the waist he switched their positions, rolling them to the edge of the king-size bed and away from the clattering plates. She pushed to her knees and hovered the heat of her sex above his erection.
“I’ve never—”
“I know.” He gripped her hips and ground his length along her slit.
She rose higher allowing him to position the head of his cock at her entrance. Slowly, she lowered onto him, taking him inch after agonizing inch into her tight pussy. He groaned, gripped the headboard, and closed his eyes. He was done for, completely lost to her perfection.
Her hands rested on his pecs as she began to rise and fall. He ground his teeth together, trying not to let the snug grasp on his shaft drive him over the edge. Each undulation tortured him with undiluted pleasure, inching him closer and closer to completion.
“You’re quiet… Am I doing it wrong?”
Fuck. He was Marcel Marceau, unable to get a word out for fear of losing control. He clenched the headboard tighter, sucked in a breath and went to his happy place. “So good, Allie. Don’t stop.”
He needed to touch her, to concentrate on what she needed before he blew the whole ball game. Releasing his talon grip, he opened his eyes and rested his hands on her thighs. Her hips rocked faster at his touch. He slid his hands up her hips, over her waist, and cupped her breasts, teasing her nipples between his fingers.
“Oh, yes.” She ground harder, sharper. Her hands reached up to hold his in place and she groaned, her pussy milking him, clenching tighter. Plates clattered, bowls tipped, but he didn’t care.
Her teeth bore into her lower lip and she leaned her head back, riding him like a prized pony. He bucked into her, increasing their pace. “Oh, god, you feel good.” Like fire and silk and heaven.
She touched herself, and he closed his eyes at the erotic image she made. He jerked when her fingers brushed his sac, not expecting the sudden shot of awesome. “Sweetheart, don’t… I’m…I’m almost there.”
A smile tilted her lips but she ignored him and lightly massaged his balls, while the other hand dipped lower to play with her clit.
“Tease.”
She grinned at him, her dimples showing. Damn he wanted that mouth. He sat up, caught her gasp with his lips and sent his tongue in search of hers.
“Ride me,” he demanded with a thrust of his pelvis. The plates on the bed punctuated his movements with a clang.
Her legs moved around his waist and her hands to his face. She sucked on his tongue and complied, her hips retreating then sliding home, retreating then sliding home. He closed his eyes, focusing on nothing but the way her slick heat glided over his cock. When she broke the kiss, panting into his neck, he gripped her ass in both hands and thrust hard.
Her cry filled the room and her back arched, lifting her breasts close to his face. His balls began to tighten with an impending climax he had no hope of controlling. He lowered his head to her chest, drew a nipple into his mouth and sucked hard.
“Mitchell,” she cried out with release.
His name was the final straw on the house of cards. He groaned, long and loud, jerking up into her body. He ignored the clash of plates and concentrated on Alana. She sunk her teeth into his shoulder, and with each pulse of her pussy, the suction from her lips tightened. He rode out the bursts of rapture, holding her against him, sinking his fingers into her hair.
Gradually the pleasure faded, dissipating until his muscles where heavy and lax. She sighed in his arms, the heaving of their chests slowing. He ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her head, surveying the wreckage covering the other side of the bed. “I think we may have ruined breakfast.”
“Your hair is smooth like silk.”
Alana closed her eyes and leaned her head back. Mitchell sat behind her on the bed, his fingers stroking through her hair, untangling what she knew would be an unruly mess.
“Should I use the brush?” His breath whispered over her neck and she shivered.
She’d been breathless and wordless and mindless all morning. She could only nod.
The brush smoothed her hair in soft, caressing strokes. Occasionally, Mitchell would hit a snag, suck in a breath, then treat her like she had tiny strands of glass growing from her scalp.
“Don’t worry about being gentle. You’ll be sitting there for hours trying to get the knots out if you do.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.” He pulled her hair to the side and placed a scorching kiss at the base of her neck.
“You won’t,” she whispered.
He’d doted on her since they made love. First, he’d charmed one of the maids into cleaning up the mess in the bedroom, tipping her with an amount that made the lady gush. He then ordered a second breakfast and fed Alana by hand, teasing and seducing her all over again with bites of food in between soft kisses. With her limited sight she hadn’t known what would come next, the pancakes which melted in her mouth or the hot lips of a man she was starting to fall for.
“You guys ready to go?”
Alana glanced toward Blake’s voice and smiled.
“Ahh, I think so,”
Mitchell answered. “Does her hair look good?”
Blake sniggered. “She looks hot.”
“Not the answer I was looking for,” Mitchell muttered.
She raised her hand for the brush. “I’m sure it’s fine. I’m not going to be center of attention anyway.”
She still didn’t know how Mitchell had talked her into going along to the interview. Actually, that was a lie. He’d seduced the agreement from her. When their second breakfast arrived, so had a pile of clothes, underwear, her necessary eye drops, and hygiene products. All for her. All from him. Tears had stung her eyes at his thoughtfulness. But it was the way he paid delicate attention to her in the shower that convinced her to go along with him to the radio station.
No matter how much she protested the ability to wash herself, he didn’t listen. He’d led her into the warmth of the water and caressed her skin with soap, his large palms traveling over every inch of her body. On more than one occasion her thigh rubbed against the hardness of his erection, yet he never acknowledged his arousal. He devoted himself to taking care of her and her heart attached a little more to him with each stroke against her flesh.
“Let’s get going then.” Mitchell grasped her hand and led her from the suite.
A flurry of excitement met them in the lobby. People greeted Mitchell and Blake, fans screamed in the distance—too far away to be inside the hotel—and security guards mumbled instructions on where to walk.
The noise hammered at her, making her chest throb, her palms sweat. “Mitchell, I can’t do this.”
He squeezed her hand. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. We’re almost there.”
They walked fast and she struggled to keep up. Dark shadows blurred her vision, making her cling onto his waist for support. Any moment she expected to trip on someone or something and slide gracelessly along the lobby floor on her face.
“The coast is clear, sugar. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” Blake patted her on the shoulder, his support giving her a needed dose of comfort.
The room became brighter with each step, the shadows standing out against the glow. Footsteps surrounded them, sliding doors opened and closed, the hum of an engine, and still the guards instructed them, let me lead the way. The car is just outside. You take the passenger seat, Mitch and the woman in the back.
Her blood thickened with each beat, cutting off her oxygen, making it hard to breathe.
“Lower your head, Allie, and climb in.”
She did as instructed, following Mitchell into the vehicle and sliding along the backseat to sit beside him.
Nobody spoke during the ride. The soft murmur of the radio and the occasional click, click, click of the indicator was the only noise to break the silence. She leaned into him, catching her breath and tried not to rub her leg against Tony, the bodyguard, who sat on the other side of her.
“Not long and we’ll be there,” Mitchell whispered, nuzzling behind her ear.
She smiled and squeezed his hand.
“Are you still happy to have a coffee downstairs by yourself?”
“Yes. I’ll be fine.” Alana refused to be a distraction, stating she would remain in the car if need be. The compromise, suggested by Tony, was for her to wait in the coffee shop on the ground floor until the fifteen minute interview had concluded.
Mitchell, and even Blake, had protested, but Alana wouldn’t agree to come otherwise. She could sit by herself, drink a coffee, and listen to the chatter of mingling people for the short amount of time. If she encountered a problem, she’d ask a waitress for help.
“I’ll get out first,” Tony’s deep voice startled her, kicking her heart rate back into unwelcomed territory.
“No arguments here,” Blake replied. “When it comes to fans, I’d much prefer to have them groping you than me.”
“Do they really grope?” Alana murmured into Mitchell’s shoulder.
He chuckled. “Unfortunately they grab anything they can get their hands on.”
She cringed. “Maybe I’ll stay in the car until Tony can come back and get me.”
He released her hand and ran it over her shoulders, pulling her closer into his body. “I won’t let anything happen to you...again.” The regret in his voice was palpable.
“OK, here we go.” The car came to a stop and Tony climbed out, letting in a wave of screams before he slammed the door shut.
“There’s nothing to worry about, sugar,” Blake reassured her. “We’re at the back entrance to the building, and there are only a few people at the doors. Security already has it under control.”
A few people? She wasn’t deaf. Instead of alerting him to the fact she heard half of Richmond releasing their siren calls at the car, she nodded and swallowed the bile rising in her throat. “All right.”
Blake’s door opened, then Mitchell’s. “I’ve got you.” He gripped her hand and led her from the car. “Once we get inside and meet the rest of the guys, Tony will get you settled in the coffee shop.”
She tripped up the curb, once again along the path, and sighed in relief once they passed the wailing crowd and entered the relative safety of the building.
“Easy as groupies on a gig night, wasn’t it, Al.”
She cringed at the analogy, but couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah. As easy as I assume groupies are on those types of occasions, I would have to agree.”
“Mitch?” A female voice called, and Alana swallowed involuntarily. “Are you guys ready to head upstairs?”
“Yeah, but first I want you to meet someone. Leah, this is Alana. Allie, this is our awesomely talented band manager, Leah.”
“Nice to meet you.” Alana raised her hand to the shadow in front of her and hoped for the best. There was an uncomfortable pause that caused the hair on the back of her neck to rise and a soft hand gripped hers in a firm shake. They were communicating behind her back…well probably right in front of her eyes, she sensed it.
“You...too, Alana.” Leah’s words were stilted.
“There was a problem last night with the ass cake you fired. He threw a glass vase that shattered in Alana’s face. At the moment, she can’t see.”
“What?” Leah gasped. “Why wasn’t I told? I need to be informed of these things, Mitch.”
“It’s fine. Settle down. She’s here so I can keep an eye on her. I’ve been taking care of her to make up for the position I put her in.”
Alana hid her disappointment behind a smile as the two of them spoke. His words ripped the happiness from her lungs. Was that what he’d been doing? Taking care of her to make up for what happened? If that was the case, he needn’t have worried.
“I’ve gotta go.” Mitchell kissed her temple.
She pressed her lips together to contain her emotion even though her wounded pride urged her to jerk away. “Bye.” She gave a half-hearted wave.
His heat continued to surround her moments later when the blur of shadows around them faded into the background. Tight hands gripped her shoulders and the darkened haze of his face filled her vision. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head, not wanting to open her mouth. If she spoke she would tell him to drop the knight in shining armor act and call Kate to pick her up.
“We met less than twenty-four hours ago, and yet, I can already sense when something is wrong. Please tell me, otherwise I won’t be able to concentrate in the interview and I’ll make a dick of myself.”
For a second her lips twitched in humor, but then she remembered why she’d been upset. “Has everything between us been about obligation? The sex, the clothes, the shower? Were you doing it because you thought you needed to?” Her voice broke on the final word and she scrunched her nose, fighting back the unwelcomed emotions determined to break free.
A quick, firm kiss landed on her lips, startling her. “I’ve told you before; I say stupid shit around you because you make me lose focus. I didn’t mean it to sound that way.” His mouth caressed hers again. This time softer, sweeter. “I’m sorry. Once this is over,
I think everyone will be coming back to the hotel for a few drinks. Hopefully by then, I’ll be able to relax a little and my foot won’t be in my mouth as much.”
Alana tilted her face to steal another kiss. “OK.” She wasn’t convinced, but she wouldn’t be a drama queen and call him a liar either. At the moment, she had time up her sleeve and spending a little more with Mitchell wouldn’t be a chore. She just hoped for her heart’s sake he was telling the truth.
“You ready to grab a coffee?” Tony’s voice came from beside her, and Mitchell’s heat left her body. A momentary wash of apprehension nudged her senses at the thought of being led around by another unfamiliar man, but she suppressed the judgments her mother had tried to instill in her. Mitchell, Blake, and even the optometrist’s son had shown her only kindness. She would do her best to trust Tony too.
“Definitely.” Coffee would be her savior. A great big bucket full.
A hand grabbed hers and laid it to rest at the crook of a large arm. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you get settled.” Tony led her forward, taking slow steps so she could keep up.
“I’ll see you later, sweetheart.” Mitchell’s voice drifted away along with the sound of his footsteps.
Tony walked her to the coffee shop in silence, only pausing for a moment to open the door. Inside the noise spiked her anxiety. Voices melded together, some in hushed tones, others loud and obnoxious. The coffee machine hissed, cutlery clattered, footsteps sounded, and bells rang. She had to close her eyes and trust his guidance while she tried to calm herself with steadying breaths.
He patted her hand in reassurance. “Here, sugar, I’ve got a seat for you.” He grabbed her fingers and draped them over the back of a chair.
“Thank you.” She felt for the table, then the seat to gain her bearings before she sat down.
“You’re right up against a wall, only a few rows back from the cashier.”
She nodded. At least if she had any trouble, she knew where to turn for help. She would be fine though. Once she had a coffee in hand, she could relax and simply sit and think. Maybe even relive some of the seductive memories from this morning.