Sex Addict

by Brooke Blaine

  Evan licked his bottom lip as he let his eyes rove down over her, and then said, “I do like instant gratification…”

  “Do you? That’s shocking, Mr. James.”

  Holding the viewfinder up to his eye, he quickly snapped a photo of her and reached around to grab the printed film. He waved the photograph back and forth to speed up the developing process, but Reagan tsked and walked over to grab the photo from him.

  “You don’t have to work so hard to get the picture to come through,” she said, looking up at him under her long lashes. “It’ll develop naturally.” Not taking her eyes from his, she set the photo on the bar top. “Now we wait.”

  The smolder in Evan’s gaze made her knees weak as he replied, “I’ve never been a patient man when it comes to getting what I want.” His hand came up to cup the side of her neck before he slowly trailed his fingers down, brushing past her collarbone, then farther to trace over the swells of her breast.

  A shiver ran through her at the heat of his touch, and her breath hitched as she took a step back. He countered and she took another. And then another. With every move she made, he stalked her, like a wild animal boxing in their prey and waiting for the right moment to attack. When her back met the cold, exposed brick, she didn’t even try to move. Instead, she watched him as he prowled closer, a feral look in his features, as dangerous as it was desirous.

  One of his hands hit the wall by the side of her head; the other stayed down by his side still holding the camera. The weight of him loomed heavily over her even without touching. His powerful frame and the heady, masculine scent of him enveloped her, blazing a trail of fire down between her thighs.

  With his eyes pinning her in place, he brought the camera between them, aimed the lens under her skirt, and snapped a shot.

  “Wonder what story this will tell me?” He raised the Polaroid to her as the picture slid out, and said, “Do you want to do the honors or shall I?”

  Not quite believing what he’d just done, Reagan’s mouth parted, but nothing came out.

  “Oh, okay, you convinced me. I’ll look.”

  He pushed back from the wall and pulled the small square photograph free, and this time instead of waving it, he brought it close to his mouth, held her eyes, and blew.

  “If you’re really nice…no, bad to me,” he said, his voice dripping with devilry, “I’ll give the real thing the same treatment.”

  Deciding she was done with being a wallflower, she took a step forward and grabbed the camera from him.

  “I think you may have forgotten, but in this house, I’m the photographer. So maybe if you’re nice to me, I’ll blow on you later.”

  Evan looked down at the photo in his hand and then raised his eyes to hers. “Got to say, this picture is telling me something very specific, Ms. Spencer.”

  He made a show of studying it in great detail before aiming his eyes down to the hem of her dress.

  “Think I could get a closer look?”

  Reagan brought the camera up between them and told him, “Perhaps. But first, take off your jacket.”

  Evan tilted his head slightly, and his brows rose as she continued to watch him with unflinching focus.

  “Just my jacket?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  He nodded, and as he started to undo the buttons, she snapped off a shot. Then he halted his movements, his eyes narrowing on her when she pulled the photo out and aimed again.

  “Why’d you stop?”

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  She licked her lips as she looked him over, and then informed him, “I’m going to tell a very naughty story. Now, keep going, Evan.”

  He parted the fitted material and shrugged out of it as she took several more snapshots, each depicting every small movement, and as they developed one by one, she let them fall, scattering to the floor.

  When he was standing before her in his shirt, pants, and tie, she took his measure, trying to decide what she wanted gone next, but Evan had his own ideas.

  He unbuckled his belt, and watched her steadily as he pulled it free and let it hang down by his thigh. She zoomed in on his fingers wrapped around the leather and felt her pussy throb in response to the mere thought of him using that as a restraint in bed.

  Snap.

  “Want to come closer, Reagan?”

  Lowering the camera, she knew the look she gave him was full of the desire she could feel coursing through her.

  “I plan to come when I’m very close to you, but for now, how about you take off that tie?”

  “And then?” he asked as his hands moved to the knot at the base of his throat.

  Snap.

  “And then I want you over there.”

  She pointed toward her bed, and with a savage gleam in his eye, he started walking backward in that direction. Loosening his tie, he slipped it off over his head—

  Snap.

  —and Reagan walked one step closer to the real thing.

  The back of his knees hit the edge of her bed, and when she directed him to sit on top of the mattress, he obeyed.

  Snap.

  “Don’t lose that tie,” she warned, moving closer and tossing the undeveloped picture on the bed next to him.

  Evan moved the tie to the pillow and then reached down to untuck his shirt.

  “Stop.” His hands froze, and her face peered around the viewfinder. “Did I tell you to do that?”

  A smile of understanding crossed his face, and he shook his head.

  “Unbutton it first. From the top.”

  With one hand, he began to undo the white button-up, making sure his movements were slow and teasing.

  Snap.

  “I like that,” she whispered, keeping one hand up to snap shots and letting the other fall down to finger the edge of her skirt.

  When he caught her movement, his hand shifted down the front of his shirt faster, agitated and trying to rip off the buttons.

  Snap.

  Reagan placed one knee on the bed on the outside of his, letting her fingers rise a bit higher underneath her skirt.

  “What about you?” she asked. “Do you like what you see?”

  “Fuck, you know I do,” he groaned, his hand moving from his shirt to reach for her thigh, but she pulled her fingers from under her skirt and blocked his attempt.

  Snap.

  Leaning in to his neck, she said, “No touching.”

  After pulling out the picture and tossing it beside them, she rose up over him so he had an ample view of her breasts, and placed her other knee on the outside of his in a straddle position. His breath ghosted over her exposed cleavage as he watched her, waiting for permission.

  Snap.

  “Since I can’t touch you, it’s only fair that I be the one taking the shots,” Evan said, his warm breath leaving a trail of goosebumps across her flesh.

  With a seductive laugh, she slicked her tongue across her top lip and then conceded, handing over the camera.

  “Deal.”

  As he straightened, she reached for his arm to steady herself and then drew her painted nail down the edge of his shirt before slipping it under and pushing it from his shoulder.

  “Hmm, I want to look at you,” she purred, letting the material slide down his arm.

  With his other hand, he angled the camera up at her and took a shot before telling her, “I hope you do more than look.”

  Her nipples hardened under the intense eyes focused on her and the thought of what she was about to do next. Kneeling up, so her breasts were in line with Evan’s lips, she grinned down at him as she reached for the stretchy material and slowly drew it off, exposing herself to him.

  “Goddamn it, Reagan,” he said.

  Snap.

  “Oh…I’m sorry, I know I didn’t follow this particular request. My bra is in my handbag for you.”

  “Fuck the request,” he told her, licking his lips like a starving man.

  “Well, if it’s all the same, I’d rath
er you fuck me…when I’m ready.”

  She saw his hand move along the bedspread, and as he lifted it, she let her eyes fall down in an accusatory manner.

  “Uh uh. No touching.”

  His mouth drew into a thin line, and when his jaw bunched, she knew he was having trouble with the request.

  With dexterous fingers, she reached down to the hem of her skirt and inched it up her thighs. A low rumble escaped Evan as his eyes dropped down to what she was doing and then—

  Snap.

  The camera produced another erotic image to add to the pile growing around them. As he tossed it to the side, uncaring of where it landed, she watched his teeth sink into his bottom lip, and it made her push that little bit harder.

  She wanted to blow his mind, and she knew exactly how to do it.

  Reaching out a finger, Reagan tilted his chin up so he was looking directly at her, and then she trailed it up to his mouth and told him, “Suck.”

  Evan parted his lips and sucked her finger deep into the warm recess of his mouth, swirling his tongue around, getting it nice and wet. She couldn’t help the soft moan that slipped from her own lips as her knees tightened around his outer thighs and she felt the slick heat between her legs increase.

  As she pulled her finger free, she drew it down between her breasts and then lowered her hand and asked, “Do you think I’m ready, Evan?”

  His eyes were glued to her hand where it hovered between her thighs, and when she repeated his name and he looked back up, he said, “Fuck yes.”

  Snap.

  Inching her skirt up so he could watch, she traced her finger slowly down her pelvic bone before sliding it over her swollen clit, letting a gasp escape her lips at the sensation that shot through her when she touched herself there. She spread her pussy lips apart, letting him see how wet she was before—

  Snap.

  —rubbing her way down and sliding her finger inside.

  The sound emanating from Evan was one of a man in physical pain, and it spurred her on to go even further. She rolled her hips up and, when she sank down, pushed her finger as far as it would go. Her free hand ran up her side, grasping her full breast and massaging as a growl ripped through Evan.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, Reagan, let me—”

  She shut him up then by pulling her finger from deep inside her and pushing it into his mouth.

  “In the spirit of this evening’s meal of exquisite finger foods, I thought you might like your dessert the same way,” she said.

  He groaned around her finger, and then she slid it free. Bending her head, she placed her lips against his, whispering across his mouth, “I’m ready.”

  In as long as it took for Evan to place the camera on the bed, she raised her head and felt both of his hands clutch her hips. His fingers dug into her supple bare flesh as he pushed up using his strong thighs and spun them around, depositing her on her back amongst the sea of erotic images. As she lay there looking up at him, she watched with greedy eyes as he unbuttoned his pants and unzipped.

  She wriggled her dress down her body, and his eyes lit on her as she raised her hips and shimmied it off. When it reached her feet, and his pants and boxers were gone, she lifted her slender leg in the air and let the material hang from her ankle.

  “I believe you requested this.”

  Evan shrugged out of his open shirt and then reached for her offering, bringing it up to his face and taking a deep inhale.

  “You switched up your scent,” he told her, and then tossed the dress on the bed, bringing a condom packet to his mouth to rip open.

  “No,” she said, and shook her head against the mattress underneath as she watched him protect the both of them. He then took her ankle in his hand, removed the first heel, and dropped it to the floor.

  “Oh, yes. There is no way you smelt this delicious that first night. You reminded me of a fucking sugar cookie.”

  Reagan’s mouth parted as he drew a finger up the arch of her foot.

  “No,” she sighed as he placed that foot on the bed and reached for the other. “I had run into Macy’s on my way home and a woman at the cosmetic counter attacked me with her spray. I couldn’t get that smell out for days.”

  Evan removed the second heel, dropped it on the floor, and then released her leg.

  “Reagan?” Her eyes locked with his, and her heart almost stopped when he told her, “Stop talking.”

  Shutting her mouth, she clamped her teeth into her bottom lip and lowered her eyes to the hard-on Evan was stroking.

  “Open your legs,” he instructed as he stood at the end of the bed.

  The time for play was clearly over.

  Without so much as a hint of hesitation, Reagan bent her legs until her feet were flat, and parted her thighs.

  “I want you to use your finger on yourself just like you did a minute ago, but this time…this time I’m going to watch. And then, Reagan…then I’m going to devour you and your sweet fucking pussy.”

  Yessss…

  As she began to move her hand down her body, he called out for her to stop. She was confused until she saw him pick up the camera lying next to her on the bed.

  “I can’t resist you wide fucking open for me.”

  Snap.

  With a sultry smile, she let her hand continue its trail over the flat plane of her stomach, her fingers slowly creeping toward her bare mound. As much as she was ready to have him inside her, she couldn’t resist torturing him first so she could see the frustration of how much he wanted her. That thought alone had gotten her off so many times in the past few weeks that she’d lost count.

  Knowing how much she turned him on had turned her on, and she didn’t think she could get enough of him.

  “You want me touching here?” she asked, rubbing her middle finger down the center of her pussy. When he nodded, she ran circles around her clit, her back arching off the bed. “What about here? I’m so wet, Evan. Don’t you want to feel?”

  Just as she started to slide her finger inside, she felt strong hands grab her ankles and yank her down to the edge of the bed.

  Evan was between her thighs before she had a chance to lift her head, her legs hanging over his shoulders once he’d dropped to his knees. The grip he had on her hips was unyielding, and he pulled her in so close she could feel his breath.

  “I’d rather fucking taste” was all she heard before his mouth was on her.

  Her hips bucked in surprise, but she couldn’t get away from him if she wanted to. And fuck, she didn’t want to.

  His tongue ran up and down her slit, licking and sucking every drop of arousal before thrusting inside. She couldn’t stop the cry that escaped her, and reached down to thread her fingers through his hair. The intensity was almost too much, but the more she tried to push him away, the tighter he held on to her, his tongue never letting up.

  Giving herself over to the pleasure, she raised her hands over her head and stretched her body out for him to do as he pleased. When his warm palms moved over her sides, she arched her back, pushing into them. A moan escaped her throat at the sheer satisfaction of being devoured in such a way. His tongue was avaricious as it slicked over her to her swollen clit, and he flicked and sucked on it, causing her entire body to tremble.

  A low, throaty rumble came from Evan as he continued to sample her as if she was the most delicious thing he’d put in his mouth that evening, and when his hands cupped her breasts and he pinched her nipples, Reagan just about lost her fucking mind.

  “Evan,” she moaned, and barely recognized the pleading sound coming from her mouth. She never begged, but fuck, she was ready to sell her soul to get him up her body and his cock deep inside her.

  His mouth left her sensitive flesh, and as she raised her head to look down at his shiny, wet lips, she knew not only was her body his in that moment, but so was her heart. She’d wanted this man as a boy—a crush she could never forget—and as a man, she was desperate for him.

  Bringing her hands down t
o where his were still shaping and molding her breasts, she squeezed them against her chest and told him boldly, “I need you inside me.”

  Evan’s intense gaze trailed over her, and as he lowered her legs to the floor and started to crawl up the bed over her, Reagan scooted up until her head hit the pillow.

  In that moment, the spark in Evan’s eyes darkened, becoming one full of focus and determination. That was when she was reminded that underneath the sophisticated front he presented to the world resided a man who was always a slave to his carnal side.

  When he was hovering over her with their faces only inches apart, she watched him lick her juices from his lower lip and give a deviant smile.

  “So you want me…” He paused, and when she felt the tip of his cock brush against her soaked core, her eyes fluttered closed and she reached up to grip his arms. “Here?”

  She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to hold back a cry of frustration, and when he moved over her, sliding his length against her clit and mound, she couldn’t help but bow off the bed and push her body against him.

  “I didn’t hear you, Reagan.”

  She opened her eyes, and before she could tell him yes or now, he lowered his face to the crook of her neck and bit her earlobe.

  “I’m going to fuck you so hard, Ms. Spencer, that come Monday, you’ll have no problem remembering that I gave it to you without any expectation of receiving in return.”

  As his explicit words filtered through her mind, she was reminded of her “professional” email responses last week. She turned her head on the pillow, about to reply when she was flipped over onto her stomach, her hands sliding against the prints strewn underneath her.

  Oh shit…

  He grabbed her waist and pulled her up onto her hands and knees. “You might wanna hold on to your headboard.”

  Reagan reached for the top of the filigree headboard, wrapping her hands tightly around it before pushing her ass out toward Evan. “Do your worst.”

  There was a sting of pain on her right ass cheek as Evan bit down before his tongue swept a soothing pass across it. His hand moved between her legs, and he wet his fingers with her slick heat before slipping one inside. Reagan clenched around his finger and pushed back against him. “More.”