Audrey’s Inn

by Aycart, Elle

  “I’m jacked too. All day I was thinking I was going to jail and that I’d never see you again. Or feel you inside me. I need some reassurance.”

  “Stop tempting me. And don’t push me. I’m pissed, little girl. You’ll end up on your knees, working it off.”

  She laughed softly. “There you go. All your macho tripping is just making me wet.”

  That did it. He looked around. They weren’t far from the conference room, which had the closest door he could shut between them and the rest of the world. He grabbed her hand. “Follow me.”

  She did, giggling. Willingly. It floored him how much she trusted him. More than he trusted himself. A lot more. And the way she looked at him… like she saw him. Really saw him. Like she owned him. Which she actually did by now.

  Once they entered the conference room, he locked the door and turned toward her. “Show me how much you want me. Lift your skirt.”

  She obeyed. When the cloth was bunched up around her waist, he reached for her undies and ripped them off.

  “Show me,” he insisted.

  She leaned back a bit on the table and opened her legs, showing him her glistening slit. Fuck, she hadn’t been lying. She was wet already. “I told you,” she whispered watching him from half-hooded eyes.

  He took her mouth as he entered her with two fingers and then spread her lube over her clit. She reached for him and unbuckled his pants. He yanked down the upper part of her dress, exposing her boobs. Her nipples, tight and dark, were peeking out.

  “Do you want me on my knees, half-naked, giving you a blow job? Perfect for soothing your male ego,” she taunted.

  His cock jerked in absolute agreement, but he reined the beast in. He had other plans. He stopped her as she was going to go down. “No.” He flipped her over, pushed her upper body against the tabletop, and kicked her legs open.

  He caressed her pussy: the dripping slit, the smooth folds, and when he had her trembling and pushing against his hand, he moved to her ass and breached the tight hole with the tip of one finger.

  She gasped, clenching around the invasion. “What are you doing?” she whispered, her voice barely there.

  “Power tripping,” he reminded her, working her rosette, stretching it. “Do you want to stop? I told you, you shouldn’t poke the bear. You might get hurt.”

  There was a loaded silence until she broke it. “Stop trying to intimidate me, Con. You’d never hurt me intentionally.” Scared as she was, disadvantaged as she was, she didn’t cower. And she was right. He would never take what wasn’t offered.

  He repositioned himself against her pussy and surged in, balls deep, his chest leaning on her back, giving her his weight. “I would never try fucking this gorgeous ass without lots of lube,” he said against her ear, fisting her hair. “If you don’t come, I don’t come. The day I lube you up, spread these sweet cheeks open, and take your ass, you will be begging me to fuck it and crying out for more.”

  By the way she shivered and her pussy flexed around him, she liked the idea, even if she didn’t say a word.

  “Now close your legs,” he ordered, sliding out a bit.

  “What?” She sounded dazed, her voice gasping.

  “Close your legs. I want to feel your pussy squeezing the living shit out of me.”

  “I’m not sure I can. You’re too big,” she complained, straightening up and trying to close her legs.

  He helped her, moving his thighs to either side of hers. Then he began the arduous stroke in. She was trembling, but so was he, about to lose it from how hot and tight she was. Soon she was moaning and her pussy was contracting and he could feel her heartbeat all over his cock.

  “Don’t you fucking come,” he growled, stilling and pulling at her hair in warning.

  “I can’t control it,” she whimpered. “My clit is aching and so is my pussy. This is too much. Too much pressure.”

  “Yes, you can. I will stop fucking you if you come.”

  She was tense and on the brink, but somehow she managed to obey him. When he saw she was again in control of herself, he resumed his strokes, fucking her deep and hard. In no time she was begging and close to losing it once more, but he didn’t let her come. He slid out and turned her around. “You come when I say you can come, not before.”

  She was flushed. Her boobs spilled out, tight nipples exposed. “Con, please.”

  He sat her on the table and thrust inside her. “Watch my cock entering you. Look how it impales your pussy, how it comes out wet and shiny from your juices.”

  She obeyed him and he surged in again, ripping a needy moan from her. Her nails were digging into his arms and her breathing got huskier as she watched his cock moving in and out of her. Jesus, her pussy folds were so swollen and her plush depths felt so hot, they were burning him alive. And yet he refused to give in to the pleasure.

  “Let me come. I need to come,” she begged, desperately trying to force his hand and get extra friction on her clit.

  He intensified his speed until she was again teetering on the edge. Then he slid out.

  She cried out in need, “Con!”

  He took a step back. “I want you aching between your legs all night. I want you thinking about me during the party.” He cupped her chin and spoke against her mouth. “Don’t ever lie to me again.”

  She licked her lips. “You’re joking, right? Come here and finish what you started, house elf.”

  “I don’t think so, master,” he said, pulling his pants up.

  “My panties are ruined. I’m dripping wet, and so ready I’m fucking shaking. You can’t leave me like this! How can I attend to the guests?”

  “I’ll be suffering alongside you,” he admitted, trying not to grimace as he wrestled his erection back into his pants. “And don’t you fucking dare make yourself come. There will be hell to pay later on if you do.”

  “And you’ll know… how?” she goaded him.

  He came close and pulled her dress up to cover her boobs. “I’ll know.”

  “Arrogant power-tripping asshole,” he heard her mutter as he closed the door.

  Yeah, he was an arrogant power-tripping asshole—and he had a monumental case of blue balls to prove it.

  Chapter Eleven

  “To us!” The girls lifted their glasses to the sky and then downed them.

  The party had ended. Audrey, Rachel, Red, and Kyra were lying in hammocks, drinking shots. Alexa had been with them, although she’d seemed exhausted, and her husband Wata had picked her up. The OGs had also been with them until not long ago, but after Alexa left, Mike had recruited Con and Adrian to help him get the grannies home. The OGs might have complained had they been awake, but they’d been snoring for the better part of an hour by that point.

  “Quite a nice event,” Red said, refilling their glasses. “So when are you leaving, Kyra?”

  “In a week. Eight days, to be exact,” Kyra answered while she petted her seven-year-old, who was sprawled over her, soundly asleep.

  Thank God for the booze, or Audrey wouldn’t have survived the evening. After leaving the conference room, her body had been so hypersensitized that her pussy pulsed when she walked. Afraid she was going to spontaneously orgasm at any second, and stupidly concerned that Con had ordered her not to, she’d started downing shots, which had saved her. It was good that by the time she made it back to the party, there was no press left, because with all the booze she’d drunk, she’d have been in no state to dodge the flashes.

  “We’re back,” Mike said, sitting at the foot of the hammock.

  Audrey noticed someone kissing the top of her head. She looked up and found Con winking at her.

  “The OGs okay?” Rachel asked.

  “They didn’t even realize we moved them,” Adrian said, sagging by her side.

  “They’re going to freak out big time when they wake up dressed and in their beds,” Mike replied. “Shouldn’t we go home too, Blondie? Sam’s totally out.”

  “Yeah,” Kyra agreed, gett
ing up.

  Rachel and Audrey followed suit. “Thank you very much for choosing the inn to host such a big event.”

  Kyra waved at Audrey. “Alexa already told you. It was Amantis’s pleasure to be here.”

  “Either way, thank you very much,” Audrey insisted. Amantis had done more for the inn in one night, promotion-wise, than she could have done in a decade. “I know any five-star hotel in Boston would have loved to have you.”

  As everyone was leaving, Con whispered in her ear, “And you should have let any of those hotels host the event. This was too dangerous. Too much exposure. People on the run should keep a lower profile.”

  She walked with him toward her room. “It was a calculated risk. I avoided the press. There were no pictures taken of me.” Or so she fervently hoped. Besides, what were the chances Andy was an Amantis fan? All he’d ever listened to when they were dating was techno. That should have tipped her off that there was something wrong with the dude.

  “From now on, I’ll be the one deciding what’s a calculated risk and when to take it,” he stated.

  “Really? Who put you in charge?”

  “You, when you made me an accomplice. If we’re going to break the law, we’re going to do it properly.”

  She couldn’t stifle her laugh. Leave it to her to get involved with a perfectionist. If it had been someone else ordering her around, she’d have given him the finger, but not Connor. Connor had only to look at her or talk to her, and she was goo in his hands. His forceful ways, his hard gaze, his heavy presence—they all did it for her. As if the guy had his own force field and she couldn’t help but gravitate toward him.

  She closed the door of her room and leaned on it, smugly looking at him. “How do you plan to make me fall in line? What if I don’t obey?”

  “Did you make yourself come?”

  Oh God. That rough voice, those dark eyes. The force field around him was so intense now, she literally felt it in her bones.

  Her body had been anesthetized by the booze, but apparently it only took having him close by to bring it back to life. Her nipples started aching, her core too. She watched as he walked toward her.

  “Answer me. Did you make yourself come after leaving the conference room?” He slid his hand under the hem of her dress and moved it up, caressing her inner thigh.

  “What if I did?” she said, pretending to be unaffected by the hand approaching her bare pussy and the arrogant male in front of her. As the tips of his fingers touched her folds, she shivered and almost orgasmed on the spot.

  He growled in satisfaction. “You didn’t. You obeyed me.”

  She always objected to the word “obey” on principle, but she was hanging on by a frail thread. She couldn’t afford to talk, or she would lose it.

  He spoke against her neck. “Do you know how difficult it was to walk away from this pussy without giving it what it wanted? Do you know how hard I’ve been all night for you?”

  By now his hand was caressing her moist slit, and she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs. She grabbed his arms for balance. “Your fault,” she choked out.

  It occurred to her that if she wasn’t supposed to come tonight, she wasn’t going to sleep a wink from the ache.

  He grabbed the skirt of her dress and lifted it until it bunched at her waist. Then he traced her neckline. “What about your nipples, sweetheart? Still tight? Still aching to be licked?”

  She wanted to say, “Of course not,” but who the heck was she trying to kid? She kept her mouth shut— which turned out to be the right thing to do, because he yanked the neckline of her dress down and exposed her tits.

  “Yeah,” he said, sounding pleased, his gaze burning her skin. “Tight and dark and swollen.”

  He took a step back and gave her a once-over. She straightened her back and tried to look dignified, but her dress was currently only covering her stomach, which left her body on full display for him. Her pussy was drenched and swollen, her inner thighs were glistening from her juices, and her nipples were so taut they were killing her. Oh, and her legs were trembling.

  “Do you want to come?” he asked.

  She shrugged as indifferently as she could muster. “I’m okay either way.”

  Chuckling, he approached and stopped inches from her, his chest almost grazing the tips of her nipples every time she took in air. This close, she could feel his hard erection pressing against the constraints of his pants.

  He nuzzled her throat. “Playing it cool doesn’t suit you. Not when your legs are trembling. You need to be fucked so badly, your body is glowing.”

  “True,” she admitted, reaching for his zipper and palming him through his pants. “I’m aching so fucking badly for you. I need you deep inside me.”

  He hissed at the contact. His eyes were ablaze with lust. He remained still, though, and for a second she thought he was going to pull away, but he didn’t. He kissed her, his tongue slipping into her mouth and taking full possession. Moaning, she sank her hands in his hair and held on to him, rubbing against the thick erection.

  He released his cock, lifted her leg, hooked his arm around the back of her knee, and surged inside her without any foreplay. She cried out at the sudden invasion, but not from pain. They’d had hours of mental foreplay and she was so ready, she was going to implode if he didn’t fuck her.

  “Fuck, you feel like heaven, babe,” he said as he pulled a bit out and plunged back in, nailing her to the door. “So fucking hot. Come for me. Milk my cock.”

  All the unreleased energy that had been humming through her body all night, barely suppressed by the alcohol, came to the forefront in full force. Her nipples were exquisitely crushed against his chest. Her clit was so sensitive and her pussy so ready, it only took a handful of thrusts before she started coming, her body quaking, all her pleasure synapses firing at the same time.

  He intensified the rhythm, and she felt him growing even bigger. With a roar, he exploded inside of her.

  It took a while before she came down from that high. “Sorry I was so fast,” she whispered, clinging to him. Her legs were too wobbly to hold her up.

  Con laughed softly. “That’s usually a man’s apology. It should be my line in this case, too. I was right there with you, babe.”

  “I was so ready,” she said, licking her lips. “In the conference room, I expected you to macho trip by fucking me fast and hard, not torture me with coitus interruptus.” As a method of showing her who the boss was, though, the latter was probably even more effective.

  He grabbed her and laid her on the bed. “Didn’t I just make it up to you?”

  She pondered for a second. Electricity was still buzzing through her, a low hum racing all over. “I’m going to need a couple more orgasms to feel… vindicated.”

  Her cell phone beeped on the floor, where it had fallen when she lost her mind. She stared at it, frowning.

  “What?”

  “I need to get that,” she said, trying to move. She didn’t receive many messages after hours, and not checking made her uneasy. Her legs, though, weren’t obeying her yet.

  “I’ll go,” Con offered, getting up to retrieve the phone. After handing it to her, he started undressing. “Anything important?”

  Audrey sat on the bed. “Not sure. I think your grandmother woke up already. I can’t quite understand what she says, though. ‘Great party,’ it reads, and then there are weird emoticons. Two shits with eyes and two hands flashing the Vulcan sign of welcome.”

  Con laughed. “They don’t see emoticons too well. The shits are meant to be Hershey’s kisses, and the Vulcan sign is probably meant to be V for victory.” He sat by her and kissed her shoulder. “You’re lucky. You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve gotten the ‘fuck you’ finger when they meant to send a thumbs up. Their phones remember everything, fuck-ups included, so all they had to do was confuse the emoticons once and that was it. Autocorrect takes care of the rest.”

  “They’re lovely,” she whispered, tryin
g to breathe through her already quivering voice.

  He noticed right away and sat by her side. “What is it, love?”

  “You have no clue how guilty I feel about lying to them. I’ve always felt guilty, but now even more so because I’ve dragged you into it.” He might not be lying to the grandmas, but he was helping her deceive them. Everybody. The whole thing was snowballing and sooner or later was going to swallow them both.

  “I get what you’re saying, but I told you—they’re happy. If you were to tell them the truth, they would find out Audrey’s beloved granddaughter is dead. And you’d lose your safe identity. No one wins.”

  “Still. I really feel awful. I could have fulfilled Audrey’s dreams without impersonating her.” In a world where Nicky Rubin didn’t need to disappear, of course. “But I didn’t know how to buy a fake identity. I was overwhelmed, and I didn’t want to get my brother involved. Becoming Audrey Fleming seemed like the only solution at the time. Now I don’t know anymore.”

  Con brushed her hair away from her face. “If you’d gone fishing for a fake identity without knowing who was safe to get it from, you probably would have ended up dead in an alley. You did what you had to do to survive. Nobody can blame you for that.”

  She knew pretty well what he thought about how she’d handled the Andy debacle, but she was thankful he wasn’t reminding her of it.

  “Come on, no use dwelling in the past. Let’s get this dress off you, fake Aud.”

  She laughed softly at that nickname. “You shouldn’t call me that in public, much less in front of the OGs. Although with their bad hearing, they might understand something else entirely. Maybe they’ll hear ‘fake O’ and they’ll think I fake orgasms.”

  “Let them think so,” he said, helping her undress. “I know better.”

  His arrogant tone caught her attention. “Really? Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely. No amount of Kegel exercises in the world can teach you to contract your pussy the way you do when you come undone for me. One of these days you’ll snap my cock in two. Right at the base. And it’s not only your pussy. Your whole body comes, baby. Legs, arms, pussy, they all grip me at the same time.” He offered her one of his rare but absolutely gorgeous grins. “Making you come is risky business.”