by Roxie Ray
He was beautiful and real. Corded muscle. Sinew and smooth skin that I wanted to lick every inch of. After I dispensed with his tie—over my shoulder—I yanked his shirt open. Buttons sprayed around us, clinking against the hardwood.
“I owe you a shirt.”
“This old thing?” He grinned. “If you don’t want your dress to meet a similar fate, take it off now.”
The zipper was in the back. “Unzip me.”
“Bossy.”
“Horny.” While he reached behind me, I stared my fill. Broad chest dusted with hair, muscles like Michelangelo had sculpted them. A waistline I wanted to nibble and a bulge in his pants that made my mouth water. I wanted a taste, a touch, a few hours of full-body appreciation. If I was a painter, I would’ve painted him. A poet and I would’ve written sonnets. But I was a porn maker. And thank God for it.
And tonight, he was mine. To do with as I pleased. And, oh, yes, I pleased.
He laid his hand inside the dress against my spine. Warm and massaging, his fingers curled in and out, kneading and rubbing, caressing from my shoulder blade to the curve of my ass. Then he palmed the cheek and pulled my hips against his, that glorious erection pressed into me.
Fuck. He ground once, then again, until I hiked my leg over his hip so I could get closer, feel him where I ached, where I needed him most.
He groaned and brought his mouth back to mine as he slipped the top of my dress down my shoulders and arms, so it puddled at my waist.
“Oopsy. I think I forgot a bra today.” In truth, the low cut of the dress didn’t allow for it. But he grinned.
He looked for a full five seconds then turned us, so I was the one against the wall. He cupped his wrist around the thigh I had holding his hip and ran his hand the length, from knee to where it met my torso, then a little to the left so his fingertips brushed my clit through my panties.
I inhaled sharp and thick. God. I wished I hadn’t worn those either. I would have been two full steps closer to orgasm.
His fingers and his mouth continued working my body, and I wanted to touch him, see him, taste him. To have him buried inside of me. Anticipation shivered through me.
He was gorgeous. Sensual. A fucking god.
And he yanked the side of my panties, so the satin and lace ripped, and I grinned as he held up the fabric and tossed it behind him.
When he brought his hand back, I was wet, and he slid a finger inside me. My head fell back against the wall, and I moaned as he moved in, so we were even closer. So many sensations slid through me, one after another, pleasure, and arousal—old favorites of mine. Then awe and shock—I was touching the thick cock of a man who was too big for one hand.
He smiled, groaned, and said, “I believe you mentioned toys.”
He was all the toy I needed, but if it turned him on, I wasn’t opposed. “Yeah.” I moved against his hand once more as he tried to withdraw then sashayed—there really was no other description—across to the table by the work bed.
When I opened the top drawer—the toys I used most often—his eyes went wide. I didn’t have time for a thorough investigation. I pulled out a pair of handcuffs. His eyes danced. His smile widened.
“Nice.”
They were generic, silver, metal. I frowned until I turned. He had a look—a smolder—and as much as I didn’t want to look away, the motion of his hand brought my gaze down. It lay over his cock, stroking through his pants. My mouth went dry and everything wet before was drenched now.
I walked back to him. I had to see it. Touch it. And oh, God, taste it. My mouth watered and I stared, like I could melt the pants or make them somehow magically disappear so I could do all the things I wanted.
One corner of his mouth lifted in a smile when I knelt in front of him. I tugged down his zipper, hooked my fingers in the waistband of his boxer-briefs and pulled so his glorious cock could spring free.
It was bigger than it had felt in my hand, bigger and thicker, hotter. I couldn’t wait. I licked the head, tasted him, and it was better than I imagined. So much better. He threaded his fingers through my hair and tugged, held me as he used his hips to set the rhythm.
Normally, I liked being in control. Loved it. But when he gave a tug and his hand twisted in my hair, a moan vibrated in my throat and he blew out a sharp exhale.
“Oh, God, Kaylee.”
He hadn’t seen anything yet. I swirled my tongue, took him deep into my throat and moaned again.
Guttural and deep, he growled and pulled his cock away, drew me up and walked me toward my sleeping bed, our mouths mashed together, one hand at the small of my back, the other still tangled in my hair. I hadn’t wanted anyone the way I wanted him in so long. Want didn’t have much place in my profession, but tonight, I yearned. I longed. I needed.
“Porter.” I gasped his name when he lowered me onto the bed and then crawled in beside me. His cock throbbed against my leg, but I let him have a moment to gaze at me from the top of my hair to the apex of my thighs. Everywhere his gaze touched burned, and when he closed his mouth over my nipple again, I whimpered.
His tongue flicked one while he pinched, tugged, twisted the other, mimicking the moves his mouth made. Heat rolled up my body and my pussy clenched when he moved his hand from my breast to my core.
“So slick.” He used my wetness to coat my clit, to tease me. Then he circled his fingertip, almost but not quite touching the spot I wanted him to pay attention to. Desire coiled in my belly, pooled, and he continued, so close.
“Please.” I whined the word, begged because I needed more. When he didn’t answer, didn’t touch me, I moved my hand down, but he pushed it away.
When I tried again, he laid a kiss on me, deep and sensual, and sucked my tongue into his mouth. Every pull went straight to my pussy and I groaned. This guy was…fucking killing me.
When he tore his mouth away, he inched down my body, left a trail of open-mouthed kisses on my throat, my collarbone, my breasts, and my belly. He pushed my thighs apart and settled between them.
His tongue flicked out, and my body spasmed. I needed more of that. His fingers bent into my thigh, squeezed while his mouth ravaged my pussy. My back arched and I cried out. Then he sucked the nub into his mouth and pushed two fingers into my wet folds.
“Oh, God.” No way was I going to last more than a couple seconds. I watched him, watched his eyelids flutter against his cheeks and his shoulders contract and expand while he fingered me, his hips shift as he used his free hand to stroke his dick. When he opened his eyes to look at me, I threw my head back and raked my fingers into his hair. I pulled and he moaned.
He moved up and I reached into the drawer beside the bed for a condom. Instead of handing it to him. I waited until he pulled up to kneel, still between my legs, and tore the plastic open.
I rolled it down his cock, stroked, massaged, and caressed from the base to the tip.
“Lie back now.”
Didn’t have to tell me twice. I put my head on the pillow and stared up at him. My God, he was beautiful. A fantasy come to life in my bed and I wanted more. I wanted all of him. His weight on my body as he thrust his cock into me.
“You’re beautiful.”
I’d heard it before, but when he said it, I believed he thought so.
He leaned forward and braced himself on his hands, his cock poking into the folds of my pussy. “I love looking at you.”
I believed that one too. “I love that you like to look.” I chewed my lower lip and gave him a once-over. “And back at ya.”
He chuckled and kissed me, soft, slow, his tongue sliding against mine, the friction almost as exquisite as the way his hips rolled, letting the head of his cock tease and tempt and delight.
When he pushed inside me, I gasped, and he groaned. I wrapped my legs around his hips and used them to pull myself onto his cock, to take all of him, to leverage myself so I could move in time to every thrust of his hips.
Every plunge of his cock, every kiss, every moan vibra
ted through me and my body tightened. The world narrowed until nothing existed except this gorgeous man.
Waves of passion rolled up my body and I clenched around him. Light flashed behind my eyes and I cried out, arched my back, squeezed my legs tighter. His body went rigid and his eyes closed as he came.
“Kaylee!”
Hearing my name, feeling his body while I shattered, intensified every sensation and my orgasm crashed thought me, pulled me apart.
When he rolled off and lay on his side next to me, he drew little circles on my stomach with the pad of his finger. “Incredible.”
I agreed, but I needed another minute to catch my breath, so I smiled instead of speaking.
He lowered his head and kissed me softly. “We never got to try out those handcuffs.”
He held them up and let them dangle off the tip of his finger, though I had no idea where they’d come from or where he’d had them two minutes ago. But I sure as hell liked where his mind was going.
Screwed. I was completely screwed. That was the best sex I’d ever had, hands down and by far. I was one hundred percent sure no other man could ever measure up to that. What was I going to do when this thing with Porter went in the pooper? He thought it was a lifetime commitment, but how often did that actually happen? Not very.
I stared at him above me and let my breathing calm. “How’d you get so good at that?”
He chuckled, his deep voice vibrating through his chest. “Practice.” Rising up, he arched an eyebrow at me. “I also watched a video of a little pixie telling me the powers of the G-spot.”
He’d told me he’d looked at my videos, but knowing he’d really watched them made me blush. I had to stop myself from giggling. I wasn’t a giggler! Knowing he’d sat through and thinking about what he might’ve done while he looked at me make myself come… damn, I was nearly ready for round two.
“You’re rather informative and men should be appreciative of your lessons.” He rolled off of me, pulling me to settle in the crook of his arm as he moved.
I dropped my face and hid it in his chest to hide my blush. I never blushed. “Okay, but you’re never allowed to watch again.”
“I promise to leave you to be Sex Kitten Kaylee without prying eyes.” He pushed me onto my back and nuzzled my neck. Then his hands drifted down, tickling my side until I had to dart away from him, scooting to the other side of the bed. He laughed and followed me but pulled me into his arms again.
I didn’t mind. That was exactly where I wanted to be. “Are you okay?” I asked.
Porter scooted back a little and looked down at me with his brow furrowed. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’m better than okay. I’m amazing. That was…” He puffed out a breath and smiled. “Amazing.”
“Skye and Bri shared with me about dragons needing to bite their mates. They said the dragon’s need to bite their mate is intense when they have sex.”
He nodded and stared at me. “It is. But I think it might be stronger when it’s fated. I wanted to bite you pretty badly, but I was able to control it.”
Why was I now suddenly disappointed because I wasn’t his fated mate? “Does that make it less?” I asked.
He pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me. “Of course not. It’s just different. Me choosing you doesn’t make the bond any less beautiful or significant. It just means I have better control.” He sighed. “It is in my nature to claim what’s mine, and yes, I did have a strong need to claim you, but only when you’re ready.”
I leaned close and pressed a soft kiss on his lips. “Thank you for not rushing me.”
He shrugged. “I’m a patient man.”
When I woke up, late in the night, Porter’s arms were still wrapped firmly around me. He snored lightly into my hair.
That was new. I’d never fallen asleep in a man’s arms. Ever. I didn’t allow boyfriends to sleep over. I kicked them out as soon as the sex was over. I didn’t have sleepovers. I didn’t sleep in their arms or allow them to hold me. But with Porter, it felt different. Everything changed when I met him.
New or not, it was amazing and wonderful and perfect. I burrowed closer and pulled the blanket over us and fell back to sleep faster than I would’ve thought possible.
His phone woke us the next morning. “Hello,” Porter said in a rough voice. A few seconds later, he handed me the phone. “It’s for you.” What the hell?
I didn’t think anyone even knew Porter was here. Why was someone calling his phone for me? “Hello?” I turned my head away from Porter. I didn’t know if I had horrible morning breath or not. I’d never had a morning with a guy.
Never.
“Hello, Kaylee. It’s Sammy.”
The whole pixie thing flooded my mind. I was really good at compartmentalizing things, and I’d shoved the fact that I might be a magical creature far into the back of my mind. I needed to ask questions, though, and the little witch was the likeliest to have the answers.
Sammy asked a ton of questions about my history and ancestors. I’d joined one of those online ancestry sites, so I was able to give her some answers, at least.
Porter stayed by my side the whole time while Sammy asked question after question, making a pot of coffee while I talked.
“I’m trying to figure out if there are still pixies from your troupe around and if they’ve been involved in your life.”
Well, that was ominous. “What are pixies like?” I asked.
“Pixies are mostly peaceful, if not a little annoying, but they have the natural ability to allure.” She went silent for a moment.
“Is that why I do so well online?” I asked.
“Probably,” she said simply. “Or maybe you’re good at what you do. I don't know.”
When I’d given her all she knew, she sighed. “I think this is enough for me to track them down if they still exist. I’ll see what I can find out, and then it’ll be up to you what you do with the information.”
“I don’t know what I want,” I whispered.
“You’ve got time to figure it out,” Porter said. “There is no timeline.”
The line went dead. I shrugged at Porter. “I guess that was all she wanted.”
This world was so strange.
Porter started making breakfast and to my shock, I didn’t want him to leave, so I didn’t ask him to.
We stayed in bed all day Saturday, introducing each other to our favorite movies and repeating the moves of the night before several times.
Sunday morning, a knock on my door pulled us from the bed. I jumped up and grabbed a robe. “Oh, gosh, I forgot. It’s Sunday.”
I scurried to the door and let Wayne in. “Sorry,” I said as he walked in with his arms full of bags. “I overslept.”
“That’s okay.” He looked at Porter in surprise. “Hey, man.”
Porter sat up in bed. “Hello. Sorry, I didn’t realize Kaylee used your services.”
I beamed between them. “I would’ve starved to death long ago without Wayne.” I looked at the two of them, looking between each other. “Wait, how do you two know each other?”
Porter gave me a big grin. “He’s a dragon, Kaylee.”
I blinked at Wayne several times. “Oh, that makes sense.” He was a little quirky and hugely muscled. He had a great sense of smell.
Man, but it felt good to be in the know. “Seriously, Wayne? You just keep this from me? I thought we were friends.”
With a spoon in his hand, he grinned and shrugged. “I don’t want to think about what Sammy would do to me if I told.”
Wayne did his thing while Porter and I dressed, and just after Wayne left, Porter had to as well. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’ve got work to get ready for tomorrow and I’m still a little overwhelmed with what the other guy left me.”
I looked up at him and let a slow smile spread across my face. “I had a great weekend,” I said.
He kissed me, slow and deep, twining my lips with his. “If I stay, I won’t sleep at all.”
&nb
sp; Humming, I leaned against his chest and sucked in his spicy scent. “Go,” I said. “I’ve got work I need to do as well.”
He walked out of the door and turned back. “It’s going to be a busy week. I don’t know if I’ll have time to get together until the weekend.”
That sucked. “It’s okay. I’ll get all my work done during the week and make my weekend free for us.”
He leaned in and gave me one more kiss before leaving.
I did a video Sunday afternoon to use Friday night in place of a live, and then Sunday night I slept like shit.
It was Porter’s fault. I wanted his arms around me.
18
Porter
After that weekend with Kaylee, there was no longer a doubt in my mind that I wanted to settle in Bluewater.
So, I spent the week making it happen. I got my paperwork in order for the house.
My gut told me she was going to accept me. She’d accepted the whole dragon thing pretty well. Why not me?
I wanted to give her the world. My dragon’s instinct was to protect and provide and I wanted to do that for Kaylee in any way I could.
And since she was my future, I needed our future home. I called Gazelle and got it all in motion. The owners had already moved out.
Nothing was stopping me from getting the keys this week. Gazelle called the owners and got permission for me to start decorating and moving in, since the financial part was pretty secure. It didn’t hurt that I offered them a little bonus for the permission.
As soon as I could, I went to the house.
Oh, man. It was perfect. It was so right.
I called Skye and Bri as soon as I had permission to be in the house and they met me there. “Here is my credit card, and here is my checkbook,” I said, handing them over. “The balance on that account is written in the margins and the credit limit is on the back of the checkbook. Make this place exactly what she would want. Please.”
The girls’ faces lit up. “Seriously?” Bri asked.
“Seriously. I know that I want to be with Kaylee. But we don’t know each other well enough for me to do this myself. Please, help me.” I stood with my heart on my sleeve as Kaylee’s two best friends called a decorator they knew, Janice, and promised to take care of it.