Frisky Business (Kinky Chronicles, #5)
Page 9
Kink kitten? That was cheesy and kind of adorable. JC: Why? Are you bringing me champagne?
His answer was both mysterious and arousing. MK: No. Something even better. So put down the phone and get that delicious body ready for me.
She’d never met a man who could be pushy, charming, and sexy, all rolled into one.
Okay, she knew one other man who fit those descriptors...and he wasn’t allowed inside her head tonight. Keeping that decree forefront in her mind, she set her phone aside and grabbed the plastic ice bucket. She made use of the dispenser down the hall and stashed the container on the desk that sat kitty-corner to the dresser. Her task completed, she ducked into the bathroom, stripped down, and jumped in the shower.
Having nearly an hour to spare, she put the proper effort into primping. Legs, pits, and pussy shaved. A thorough slathering with her plumeria-scented gel. Afterward, she dried herself and moisturized with the accompanying sweetly-fragrant lotion. Next, she wiggled into the teddy and surveyed her reflection in the partially steamed mirror. The woman staring back at her did not look like her mojo had taken a hike.
The lacy undergarment suited her frame. AKA: it actually made her look like she had boobs. The demi cups put the emphasis front and center on her cleavage. A cinched-in waist gave a gentle swell to her hips. She shuffled sideways and sucked in her belly. All in all, she deemed herself pretty darn fuckable, if she did say so herself.
Hopefully, Master Kink would share similar thoughts when he saw her. The recollection that it’d be happening soon shooting a thrill through her, she returned to the bedroom and eyed the window. Glaring sunlight wasn’t exactly the most conducive mood setter. She padded to the far wall and pulled the sheer in place, diffusing the light to a mellow glow. Much better. Her Ipod and portable Bluetooth speaker provided additional ambiance. She dialed the music to one of the lowest settings and then plopped her fanny on the end of the bed.
Desperately trying not to twiddle her thumbs, she stared at the blank television screen. Was it six o’clock yet? She glanced at the digital clock resting on the nightstand and groaned. Another half an hour to go.
She’d be dead of boredom by then. There was only so long a gal could watch a blank television screen. She grabbed her cell phone again and wasted several minutes with an intense game of Angry Birds. Or at least it’d felt like only five minutes or so. When she checked the time and noticed it was three minutes till six, she jolted. “Holy shit.”
She dropped her phone onto the nightstand and scrambled for her quasi-blindfold, managing to get it situated the precise moment she detected a noise out in the hall. Her pulse kicked up several notches, only to ease a second later when the unmistakable squeak of a housekeeping cart continued its journey past her door. That’s when she remembered she’d forgotten to prop the door open. “Frig.”
Scooching the sleep mask up onto her forehead, she dashed to the door and quickly positioned the thingy-ma-jigger. The elevator dinged further down the hall. Her nerves jangled like she’d tossed back an adrenaline cocktail. Heady awareness chased the sensation. Master Kink had arrived. She didn’t know how she knew it, but she did.
Okay, possibly the timing was a dead giveaway. She rushed to the bed and landed in the center with an ungraceful flying squirrel jump. Tugging her blindfold in place, she wiggled to get into the most seductive pose she could muster last minute. She sounded like an asthmatic obscene phone caller with the amount of heavy breathing taking place. Struggling to get that under control and not pass out in the process, she pillowed her cheek on the arm she’d crooked beneath her head.
A moment later, the faint metallic clank of the door stopper threatened to ruin the hard effort she’d put into getting a grip on her breathing situation. She strained to make out further sound and was rewarded with the click of the door closing, followed by the deadbolt locking in place. Footsteps approached. Something settled on the carpet with a rustle. A moment later, silence. It stretched into infinity, relieved only by the sound of her erratic heartbeat, which she swore her newly arrived guest could hear from wherever he currently stood.
Funny how being deprived of sight magnified all of her other senses. Particularly the sixth one that let her know in no uncertain terms that she was the focus of someone’s intense scrutiny.
Man, she really hoped that was Master Kink. Or this was about to get super awkward. And potentially screechy on someone’s end.
Nerves getting the best of her, she reached for her eye mask. Much larger hands—undeniably male—closed around hers. An arc of electricity zipped through her at the contact. He was here, touching her. This was actually happening. “Master Kink?”
He pressed a finger to her lips and made a soft shushing sound.
He didn’t want her to talk? As long as he showered her with orgasms, she was fine with playing mute. In fact, it was kind of hot, the idea of silent fucking. Or at least soundless other than animalistic growls and the slap of slick flesh.
Master Kink released her and trailed his fingers down her chin and along the slope of her neck. She shivered. He pushed her onto her back and continued blazing a path lower along her body, caressing her skin until he came to her breasts. Splaying his hands, he squeezed the globes. She melted into the bedding, a sigh escaping her. His lips suddenly covered hers. She wasn’t sure if it was his means of shutting her up again. If that was the case, she’d yap all night long just to get his kisses. She opened her mouth and his tongue dipped inside, coaxing hers to join in the fun.
There was something oddly familiar yet completely not about his kisses. Like maybe they’d made out like this countless times in some weird parallel dimension, or in a dream. Shaking off the fanciful thought, she moved to touch him. He thwarted her plan by encircling her wrists with his fingers.
She could manage this whole remaining mute business. Forgoing the tactile sensation of her hands on his body? Whole other story.
He must have pulled that mystifying trick of reading her mind again because he left her for a moment. A sound like crinkling plastic floated to her ears. A second later, the unmistakable clink of the ice cubes sloshing around in the bucket. Naturally, that earned her undivided attention. Before she could ponder too long on his purpose for the ice, he returned to her and held her hands over her head, shifting her focus to other matters. Like how utterly lickable he smelled as he leaned over her. Masculine and exotic. She’d bet a month’s paycheck that whatever cologne he wore didn’t come with a cheap price tag.
Her wayward thoughts instantly skipped to Jack, who also tended to smell like expensive sex. Maybe he and Master Kink shopped at the same place.
Why the hell am I thinking about this right now? Silently growling at her stupidity, she distracted herself by craning her head, seeking him out with her tongue. A deep, barely discernable chuckle rumbled from him. The sound sent a wash of goosebumps over her. There was something unbelievably decadent about knowing nothing of the man you were about to get down and dirty with. His scent, touch, and a hint of his chuckle. Beyond that, he remained an unfathomable mystery.
With an efficiency that convinced her he’d dabbled in bondage more than a time or two, he bound her wrists together and knotted the ends firmly. She couldn’t tell if the silky fabric securing her was designed specifically for the task or if he’d gone the inspired route and used his tie. The notion of him trussing her up with an otherwise harmless fashion accessory? Hot as hell.
Once he had her adequately subdued, he moved around the bed, shaking it now and then as he performed some task she couldn’t puzzle out. He clued her in a second later by securing her tied wrists beneath a strap, pinning her firmly in place against the mattress. Next, he anchored both of her ankles in a similar vise that utilized a Velcro closure. She tried to move her legs. It became instantly clear that the straps were tethered to another restraint.
She was completely immobile. A dizzying rush of excitement bulleted straight to her brain and other fun parts of her body. The sensation in
tensified a second later when Master Kink popped the snaps on the teddy’s crotch, exposing her pussy. Her breathing went haywire. Knowing she was at his mercy, that he was free to use her body however he pleased, and she couldn’t do a damn thing about it? If she didn’t spontaneously orgasm before he entered her it would be a damn miracle.
As if he were intent on edging her closer to that possibility, he strolled his fingers over her pussy in a taunting caress. She shamelessly rode his palm, desperate to get his fingers on her clit. Rather than oblige the request, he pulled his hand away. His footsteps crunched along the carpet, followed a moment later by the clink of the ice cubes. Her fuzzy brain shot to attention. What could he possibly have planned for the ice? The most obvious answer had her squirming in the restraints.
A chuckle loaded with pure devilment drifted to her. The sound giving her a hefty warning of the wickedness in store for her, he boldly stroked her pussy. He rested his palm on her mound and a sharp breath lodged in her throat as something cold nudged inside her a fraction. Not an ice cube. Way too big for that. Judging from the shape and thickness, a dildo of some sort. Most likely glass, considering its smooth hardness and the way it absorbed the frigidness of the ice. Before she finished processing the thought, Master Kink pushed the object deeper and blew a hot breath over her clit. The marked contrast to the frostiness of the dildo felt odd. And arousing beyond belief. That last sensation might also have something to do with the anticipation of having his mouth on her soon.
The mattress creaked as he moved next to her. He plumped her breasts in his hands, the faint rasp of lace against her nipples an exquisite torment. The deliberate way he dragged the teddy over her sensitized flesh hinted that he knew damn well what he was doing to her.
He momentarily released her and peeled the fabric down, leaving her breasts vulnerable—and craving his attention. The coolness of the air conditioning prickled her skin and her nipples tightened. He kissed the distended tip and she strained in the straps, desperate for full contact with his sinful mouth. He indulged her mute request by lightly scoring her with his teeth before sucking the aching nub. Every lap of his tongue triggered a corresponding clench in her core, making her acutely aware of the icy cold dildo seated in her pussy.
Plugging into her thoughts again, he slid his mouth from her breasts and charted the expanse of her belly, stopping briefly to rim her belly button through the lace. He journeyed lower. His breath fanned her clit, a prelude to the wet, carnal caress of his tongue an instant later. He licked her with lazy swirls directly on the throbbing bundle of nerve endings, each coaxing glide earning an uncontrollable shiver through her. She’d already suspected he’d knock her socks off in the oral department. Holy hell, her assumptions fell several miles short of the ballpark.
Her moan leaking free in unadulterated bliss, she circled her hips, moving in tempo with his mouth. He gripped the base of the dildo and fucked it in and out of her, varying the pace and depth of each stroke until she was writhing and begging for the real thing. It was all she could think about. With each plunge of the dildo, the image of his scrumptious fat cock flashed across her mental big screen. Undoubtedly that was partly the reason he’d sent her the pic, the sneaky bastard. He’d planted the seed of fantasy by having her envision him fucking her during their sex chat. Like one of Pavlov’s dogs, he’d trained her well.
Panting, she strained in her bindings. “Please.”
A growling noise fell from him, so dark and deliciously alpha, she shuddered. The electric darts of excitement shooting through her intensified when he climbed over her and claimed another searing kiss. She could taste her pussy on his tongue and her inner deviant loved it. There was nothing tame or domesticated about this man. For the love of everything dirty, he could probably teach her a thing or two.
He pressed into her, awarding her a good sense of his overall size. Definitely taller than six feet and solidly built. When he’d pinned her wrists down earlier she’d deduced he wore a long sleeve dress shirt. Now she knew a pair of smooth-knit khaki or twill pants accompanied it. Regardless, one of them was way overdressed right now, and it sure as hell wasn’t her.
She wiggled beneath him, praying he’d get the message. He broke the kiss and pushed away from her. The faint jingle of his belt and the rustle of clothing being removed provided an erotic soundtrack to her darkened world. He cupped the back of her head and lifted her enough to tuck a pillow beneath her.
Breathless, she waited for his next move. Fortunately, he didn’t keep her in suspense. Planting a knee on either side of her shoulders, he grazed his thumb over her bottom lip. She automatically opened up for him and he slid past her lips. She sucked his finger, a soft moan escaping her as she imagined him fucking her mouth. Lost in the fantasy, she murmured in protest when he abruptly withdrew and shifted his weight above her. His hand brushed through her hair, the gesture almost reverential.
She’d never considered herself a woman who needed to be wooed into sex. Shit, she was willingly strapped to a bed and performing finger fellatio like a motherfucking pro while a dildo was shoved up her hoo-ha. If that didn’t make her the opposite of coy, nothing did. But this tenderness from him? Kind of nice. Still, if he didn’t get back to the dirty stuff soon, she’d start weeping. Talk about an instant boner killer.
His cockhead grazed her mouth, velvety smooth and so enticingly plump, she instantly salivated. He teased her mercilessly for a bit, rubbing the crown over her lips, and pulling out of reach again when she tried to lick him. She huffed a grumpy sigh and he threw her a bone—literally—by gliding his plum-shaped cap over the tip of her tongue, granting her a stingy tasting. Greedy for more, she raised her head, blindly seeking him out. He eased past her lips and she moaned around his thick shaft.
She’d almost forgotten the heady pleasure of giving a blowjob. And doing it blindfolded? Whole new experience right there. She usually preferred looking a man in the eye while she sucked his cock. It was an addictive thing, seeing how much she was turning him inside out. But something could be said for having the control stripped out of her hands. Though judging from the groans slipping from Master Kink, she still held plenty of power over him.
More than willing to let that fact go to her head, she flicked her tongue in the tiny groove bisecting the underside of the cap before swallowing as much of his shaft as she could take. Damn good thing he wasn’t one of those men who immediately went for the deep throat, seeing how his size put him in choking hazard territory.
He pulled free, jogging a sigh of disappointment from her. The sound disintegrated in her mouth as the unmistakable rip of a condom wrapper drifted to her ears. A second later, he stretched over her.
Hot damn, he was hard everywhere. Perfectly muscled without it being overkill. The fine smattering of hair on his chest was a nice bonus. She’d never been a huge fan of dudes who waxed. Give her some man fur and she was a blissfully happy woman. He reached between them, the brush of his fingers increasing the desperate ache inside her as he removed the dildo and positioned his cock. The head nudged into her a fraction, stretching her slowly.
She was eternally grateful he’d prepped her beforehand because his size already tested her limits. He hesitated, the breathless moment of anticipation buzzing within her brain. Although she couldn’t see a thing, she knew his gaze was fixed on her face. Knew it. With everything inside her. The lack of visual contact on her end should have lessened the intimacy of the moment. Oddly enough, it magnified it a thousand times over.
She was acutely aware of each breath he took. Of his heartbeat, slow and steady against her breast. The decadent pulse of his cock as it swelled and thickened. He moved his hand and stroked her hip before ghosting his fingers along the dip of her waist. Her skin tingled everywhere he touched. Belly. Breast. That damnable spot on her neck, right below her ear. She turned her head to the side, shielding her vulnerable zone. He bracketed her face in his hands, drawing her back to him for a kiss that killed any notion of depriving him of
anything. She submitted with a shuddery breath and his tongue delved deep, gliding over hers the same instant he thrust inside her fully. Even as wet as she was, that initial penetration was almost more than she could handle.
Holy. Shit. When they say things look bigger on camera it clearly did not extend to cocks. Or at least not the one currently lodged balls-deep inside her. Seriously, she was beginning to wonder if he lied about his size. Because no way the fucker was only ten inches.
He must have intuited her twinge of discomfort because he retreated. Not for long, though. With a slower-than-molasses grind of his hips, he worked his way back inside her, taking his sweet time until she gradually accommodated his challenging girth. Once he had her completely bottomed out, he held there for a moment, letting her feel every inch of him and the electrifying command he held over her body.
She’d expected sex with him would be out of this world. How could she not after their insanely orgasmic chat? But this was a whole new level of crazy intensity. She trembled, a combination of the strain on her bound limbs and the overwhelming sensations sweeping through her. Even the simple act of breathing proved to be a struggle. His mouth settled over hers and her focus narrowed to the seductive pressure of his lips. Nothing else existed beyond him. The world outside of her hotel room could have stopped revolving for all she knew or cared.
Their tongues slicked together, and the odd familiarity tickled her senses again. Her thoughts wandered to another pair of lips, ones that’d devastated her with an identical effortlessness mere hours ago.
Jack. He kissed like Jack. The comparison bloomed in her mind before she could squelch it.
Stop it. Right fucking now. She would not ruin the best sex of her life by thinking about Jack and finding ridiculous parallels between him and Master Kink. Kisses weren’t all that different. A tongue was a tongue. After you’ve had a few in your mouth or pussy, they all started to feel relatively the same.