“This is a pleasant surprise. It’s the perfect balance of wicked and classy. Black lace becomes you, Jane.” It’s a sheer one-piece, cut high on the sides and low in the back with spaghetti straps. I’m glad he likes it because it’s the only thing like it that I own. “Why do you have it?”
My eyes snap open and I meet his gaze. “Excuse me?”
“Either a man bought it for you, or you bought it for a man. Which is it?”
I flash back to the night I came out of the bathroom and surprised Justin after purchasing it that afternoon. It was my attempt to spice up our sex life. He’d taken one look at me and frowned in disappointment, asking how much I spent on something so frivolous. Then he proceeded to tell me that lingerie was pointless since it only served its purpose for a minute at most before it ended up on the floor. We never even had sex that night.
“I bought it for a man.”
Chance grunts, and I get the feeling that this answer is only slightly better than if I’d said a man had bought it for me. “And did he lose his mind when he saw you? Get hard so fast he had to undo his pants to relieve the pressure?”
The air in my lungs gets stuck as I watch him undo the fly of his jeans and adjust his hard cock so it’s not pinned down by the wet denim. To know that I’ve affected him with my appearance gives me a small taste of power—something that, by design, I normally don’t feel in our sexual encounters—and boosts my confidence by a couple notches.
“No,” I say. “He said it was a waste of money and told me to return it.”
A storm passes over his face to match the one raging outside my apartment. “Then he was a fucking moron. I promise you it’s worth every penny you paid. You look sexy as hell, like a pinup without the heels.”
Shit, I didn’t think about heels. “You want me to grab a pair?”
He gives me a crooked grin that makes my knees weak as he lifts me by the hips and plants my ass on the table. Stepping between my legs, he says, “Normally I’d say yes, but I like you better without. I’ve never met anyone who straddles the fence between devil and angel as well as you, Jane. Other women try to play at one or the other, but you don’t have to. You’re equally both, and I’m finding it’s a combination I can’t get enough of.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh,” he says, then tears my bodice in half, right down the middle.
Chapter Twelve
Chance
Jane gasps and looks down at the tattered ruins of her lingerie. “I thought you said you liked it!”
“I do. But I don’t like that it was bought for another man.”
I fucking hate it, actually. Like, acid-churning-in-my-gut hate it. It doesn’t matter if the asshole never touched her in it. I want it off her and gone. “I’ll open a line of credit somewhere, and you can get as much pointless underwear as you want.” She opens her mouth to argue—because I might not know a lot about this woman, but I’ve gleaned enough to know she’s incredibly proud and independent—so I stop her. “Save it, Jane. The only thing I want your mouth doing right now is sucking my fat cock. Turn around and lie on your back with your head hanging off the edge of the table.”
She stares at me like she’s trying to figure me out. The last thing I need is her attempting to piece together my puzzle. I prefer my parts scattered when it comes to women, and that’s how I intend to keep it. Reaching down, I pick up her fluffy pink robe. “Every second you stall adds to the spanking punishment, baby. Keep this up and you won’t be able to sit for a week.”
That gets her attention, and she scurries to do my bidding. Her obedience is such a fucking turn-on. So are her slight frame and pert tits. I love that she wore her hair down tonight, with waves falling around her shoulders, long and loose so I can wrap it around my hands to control the angle of her head and the arch of her graceful neck. Damn, I have a thing for her neck. Don’t ask me why. I’m usually an ass man, but her throat attracts me like I have a sudden case of vampirism.
Then there’s her black-rimmed, rectangular glasses that give her the hot librarian—sorry, social worker—look that makes me want to fuck the primness right out of her. Except she doesn’t have a prim bone in her body. No, my Jane is as dirty as they come, and I fucking love it.
Jesus, I just said my Jane. That’s not what I mean. I don’t mean she’s mine. I used it to clarify that I’m talking about this Jane and not any of the others out there.
Anyone argues anything different and we’ll have problems.
As she gets into position, I place the robe on the edge of the table to give her some padding for her neck. I want her head hanging off the side for a very specific reason. I tuck my thumbs into the sides of my jeans and boxer briefs and push them over my hips, letting my hard cock spring free. I hear her quick intake of breath as it bobs above her face.
My height gives me an advantage in this position for the perfect upside-down blow job. All week I’ve been thinking about doing this with her, but wanted to wait until we aren’t rushed. Because that fascination I have with her throat? It’s about to get a whole lot better.
Stroking myself, I step in close. “Why don’t you get me warmed up and show my balls some love.”
I bite back my groan as her tongue snakes out to lick over my stones then suck them into her mouth one at a time. Judging by the sounds she’s making, you’d think she’s eating a decadent dessert she can’t get enough of. It’s one of the many things I find so fucking hot about Jane Wendall. Women who pose and try to look sexy while blowing aren’t doing it because they enjoy it. They’re doing what they think I want and acting how they think I want them to act, all fake doe eyes and false coyness. It’s annoying, but I ignore it and enjoy the blowjob all the same.
But Jane is different. She’s not fake. She’s not doing it solely to get something in return, because those things are just as much for her as they are for me. Every look she gives me, every touch, every sound she makes, proves that she genuinely loves servicing me. It’s the biggest fucking turn-on, and for the first time in my life, I want to make her scream for other reasons than ego.
Ego’s part of it, but with her it’s more than that. I want to make her feel good. I want her to get every bit as much pleasure out of this as I do. Watching her break apart under me as her insides convulse around me is the greatest high, and it’s addicting as hell.
“Good girl,” I rasp and take a step back to give her a breather. “Did sucking my balls make you wet?” She nods. “Use your hands and show me. Get them coated with that sweet honey from your pussy.”
I continue to stroke myself as I watch her hands dip between her legs. She holds them up for me to see, shiny with slickness. “Now rub it all over my cock so you can taste both of us when I fuck your mouth.” I surrender my shaft to her delicate hands as she works to cover me, twisting and pulling, driving me damn near to the brink. “Enough,” I growl, failing to keep my composure. “Open that pretty mouth of yours, baby.”
“Yes,” she whispers before opening wide like she was told.
As I slide my dick in her mouth, we both moan. I start with short strokes to get her used to this slightly awkward position, but I don’t have to worry. Jane takes me like a pro, keeping her teeth out of the equation and swirling her tongue around the head between my thrusts. “That’s real good, Jane, real good. But you can do better, can’t you?” She hums an mm-hmm and tilts her head back even farther. “Show me. Show me how a slut takes my cock.”
I push in again, but this time I don’t stop with only a few inches. I keep going until she’s swallowed every thick inch, watching with satisfaction when I see myself filling her throat as the front of her neck bulges from my cock. “Yes,” I rasp, then pull out all the way to allow her a quick reprieve. She takes a few lungfuls of air before I dive back in, setting up a steady rhythm of thrusting, holding, and retreating.
Her hands go to her tits, and she starts pinching and tugging on her nipples. Fucking hot. I reach down to feel her pussy and find her soa
king. It’s calling me, begging me to come and play with it, and it’s a siren call I can’t ignore.
Once again, I pull all the way out. Strings of saliva and pre-cum stretch from her mouth to my dick, and the image makes my balls draw up tight. I don’t think a woman has ever looked sexier. “I’m done fucking your mouth, but if you want me to play with your other holes, you’d better not waste any of that pre-cum I’m giving you. Eat up, slut.”
She pulls the viscous strands off my cock and moans as she licks and sucks them from her fingers. When she’s finished, I help her sit up.
“Whoa,” she says, grabbing the sides of her head.
“Bit of a head rush, baby?” I hold her to me, her back to my front, and nip the side of her neck.
She inhales sharply and angles her head to give me better access. Raising her arm, she plunges her fingers into my wet hair, holding me in place. “Everything you to do me gives me a head rush, Chance.”
“Oh yeah?” I squeeze her tits and pinch her nipples, making her gasp and arch her back, but I don’t let her get far. “You like being my little slut?” She nods. “Tell me why.” She continues to writhe from my ministrations, but doesn’t answer. I get the feeling she’s not only lost in the sensations, but she’s also avoiding answering me.
That shit doesn’t fly. I’m pretty sure I know why she likes it, but I’m not about to let her disobey a direct order, and I want her to say it out loud.
I slide my hands between her bent legs to her bare sex. I let her believe she’s getting away with her elusive behavior and start rubbing the juices from her pussy all over, making sure she’s nice and slick. Jane moans and rocks her hips into my hand. I hold one leg down to the table as a preemptive measure, then I slap her pussy. She cries out and instinctively tries to close her legs, but I’ve made it impossible. She’s bare and vulnerable to my punishments.
“I said you’d get spanked, but I never said where.” A soft mewling sound escapes her. I nip the shell of her ear and give her the order again. “Tell me why you like being my slut, Jane. And don’t even think about lying to me or your pussy will be sore for all the wrong reasons.”
Again, she hesitates, and it makes the animal inside me claw at its cage as I war between needing her to obey and wanting her to rebel. Either way, things are about to get interesting.
Chapter Thirteen
Jane
I briefly consider telling Chance that the light slaps on my bare sex aren’t much more of a punishment than the spanks he administers to my ass, but decide against it. Sure, it stings a little initially—especially when I don’t know it’s coming—but then the heat pools in my core and makes me wetter than I already am.
He wants to know why I like him treating me like his own personal slut. It’s not anything profound or psychologically disturbing. In fact, it’s probably the most common reason a woman enjoys rough sex mixed with humiliation. But I think it’s not the reason that matters to him as much as that I admit the reason to him. In doing that, I’m taking ownership of my particular brand of kink instead of merely letting it languish in the shadows of my mind and internet browser.
“Jane?” he asks as he raises his hand, ready to strike me again.
I capture it between mine. “Okay, I’ll tell you.”
Taking a deep breath, I try to ignore how the head of his cock is prodding my lower back. Even if Chance weren’t attached to it, I think I’d have a love affair with his cock—it was that beautiful and felt that amazing.
“I’m listening.”
“I’ve always been good. The good daughter, the good student, the good citizen. I like the idea of being bad without any real life repercussions. I like how with you I can be dirty and bad and just plain wrong, and it’s okay. Though, I’m not sure why the humiliation aspect turns me on so much.”
“No reason to analyze it,” he says. “Only thing that matters is that it gets you off. Speaking of which…” I sigh as he begins circling my clit with the tip of his finger. “You like that?”
“Mm-hmmm.” I arch my back so I have room to grab his cock and stroke it while he pleasures me. The man has magical fingers, magical lips and tongue, a magical cock…yeah, I’ve decided he’s pretty much a unicorn with attitude, aka The Perfect Lover.
“As nice as that feels, I want at that ass,” he says, giving me a light tap on my hip. “On your knees, sweetness.”
I’m surprised that he called me sweetness. He’s used the casual endearment—at least, I assume it’s meant casually—plenty of times, but never during sex, and I wonder if he’s conscious of the slip or if it’s escaped him entirely.
I get into position, ass in the air and chest on the table. My breath shudders past my lips. There’s no hiding like this. Everything I own is on display. The insecurity and vulnerability floods me, heating me from the inside.
I can’t see what he’s doing, so I jump a little when his rough hands grab my ass. He chuckles, and I know he loves it when I’m on edge like this. He kneads my cheeks like mounds of dough, spreading them out and back together…out and back together…
I hear the loud smack a full second before I feel it. The flesh on my right cheek stings, but I don’t shy away from it. Instead, I mewl like a wanton kitten and push my ass up higher. I want more, and he’s happy to oblige. His hands rain down slaps one after another to my backside, with intermittent pauses to grab and spread my cheeks so he can see the proof of my arousal.
“Look at you,” he says, and I wish I could. I wish I could see what he’s doing to me—the raised red welts from his hands, my pussy lips swollen and covered in the juices I can feel dripping down my inner thighs…
“So fucking sloppy wet for me, aren’t you?” His fingers stroke my puffy folds, and though he hasn’t touched it directly, my clit is so sensitive right now that even glancing over the labia surrounding it makes my body string tight like a bow.
“Yes, Chance,” I answer, my voice a breathy moan. “Only for you.”
“Good girl. Now hold still, Jane. I’m gonna get this tight pussy even tighter for me. I like making the fit a challenge.”
Challenge is an understatement. When he makes me come before entering me, it doesn’t matter how wet I am. With his extra large cock and my climax-swollen vagina, the fit is tight. And that’s not hipster slang for “awesome.” Though that works, too.
Spreading my cheeks, he licks through my folds. I cry out as his tongue circles and flicks over my clit. The tension in my belly grows, like a snowball rolling down a hill that gets bigger and bigger—only this ball is made of white-hot fire, and it’s burning me up.
I’ve never been able to orgasm from oral sex until Chance. He’s a god at eating pussy. Not some pansy who uses the tip of his tongue to keep his face from getting messy—hell, no. Chance dives in, face and all, and the myriad of sensations he creates—with his tongue, lips, teeth, nose, chin, and even the scruff of his beard—is the most mind-blowing thing I’ve ever experienced.
“Fuck, you taste good,” he rasps. His talented fingers find my clit, and the slow build of my orgasm is suddenly barreling down on me like a freight train. “That’s it, Jane. I want you coming in my mouth, on my tongue, until your very essence is permanently imprinted on my taste buds.”
Burying his face in my pussy again, he fucks me with his tongue while he continues to rub the bundle of nerves. My legs begin to shake, and I can’t hold back the keening moans tripping from my lips as my climax approaches. Then I squeak, just before all sounds are cut off as everything in me tenses, and the ball of fiery sensations bursts like a match thrown into a pile of fireworks.
Chance digs his fingers into the soft flesh of my upper thighs, making animalistic noises as he greedily drinks everything my body offers him, and I tremble with the aftershocks. Finally, he pulls away, and I turn my face to look over my shoulder as he straightens and swipes a hand over his mouth and chin, cleaning off the juices I left behind.
Eyes dark with passion hold my gaze as he pus
hes a single, thick finger inside my swollen channel, testing my readiness for him. I can feel how tightly I’m gripping his finger, and I’m not sure if I’m ready at all. That was one of the most powerful orgasms I’ve ever had.
“You’ll never fit. Not like this.”
With his free hand, he smacks the tender globe of my ass.
“Oh my fucking God,” I say weakly, shocked I already have a second climax stirring.
“That’s for doubting me. And now I prove you wrong.”
He removes the rest of his clothes then helps me off the table to stand in front of him. “Bend over the table and bring your right leg so you’re open to me.”
I do, pressing my breasts against the warm wood then bending my right knee and tucking my leg up along my side. A second later I feel his dick swipe through my wet pussy lips several times before he lines himself up…and proves me wrong.
It takes probably an entire minute, but with teasing my clit and using short strokes that lengthen every time, he’s fully seated. Our breaths are erratic, our bodies covered in sweat—proof that the last sixty seconds had been the best kind of torture on both of us, and now we get our reward. Good. Hard. Fucking.
Except he’s not moving, and it’s driving me insane. I mewl in frustration and arch my hips to spur him into action, but it only earns me another spanking, one that makes me yelp and my pussy ache even more. Yanking my head back by my hair, he leans over me and speaks into my ear. “I’ll fuck you when I’m good and goddamn ready. You’re not the one in control here. I am, aren’t I?”
I lick my lips and nod as best I can.
“Say it,” he growls.
“You’re the one in control,” I whisper.
He pinches a nipple. I cry out as the brief flash of pain travels at light speed to my clit and sends a rush of warmth between my legs. “Louder.”
Shameless (Playboys in Love #1) Page 8