Mitch gazed at her face. “I am so turned on right now.”
Sissy leered at the cat, her ass rubbing against his denim-covered cock. “Well, all right then.”
He thought after that speech, Sissy would jump him. She didn’t. Instead, she stroked his cheeks, his neck, the whole time watching his face. Mitch truly liked Sissy. Liked the way she didn’t shy away from anything or anyone. She knew what she wanted, and she went after it. Christ knew, he liked that in a woman.
Sitting on his lap, Sissy gazed down at him. She pushed his hair out of his face and said, “Lord, all this hair.”
“Hey,” he corrected, “this is not merely hair. This is my mighty tawny mane. It’s a sign of my overwhelming manliness.”
“More like your overwhelming bullshit.”
He grinned. “That, too.”
Sissy motioned him forward. “Sit up a bit.”
He did, and Sissy grabbed the bottom of his T-shirt, lifting it over his head. She flung the blue T-shirt behind her and ran her hands down his chest.
“Lord, Mitch. You’ve filled in real nice since you’ve been eating all my—and the town’s—food.”
Mitch stroked his hand across Sissy’s cheek. “Your fault. No one told you to cook so well.”
“I’m just glad something has come out of feeding you.” Her hands caressed his shoulders, his neck until they slid into his hair. She gripped handfuls, pulling his head back and leaning up so she could look him in the eye. “I can’t wait to have you inside me.”
Damn. Really, just ... damn.
Mitch kissed Sissy, his tongue sliding inside her mouth, reveling in the delicious taste of her. His hands slid down her back until he could grip her ass cheeks, holding her tight until his need to see her naked took complete control. Grasping her T-shirt, Mitch tugged it over her head, tossing it on the floor behind her.
She wore a black bikini bathing top under her T-shirt, the strings hanging down past her shoulders. He wrapped one of the dangling ends around each forefinger and tugged until they pulled loose and separated at the back of her neck. He lowered his hands, the strings still on his fingers, and watched as the top followed.
Sissy, not remotely shy or insecure, kept her hands at her sides while he looked his fill. Her breasts were full but not huge, her light brown nipples already hard and eager. She had several faint scars across her chest and a more recent one near her collarbone. Mitch ran his finger across the scars, immediately noting Sissy’s confused expression when he didn’t go right for her breasts.
“What?”
Sissy grabbed his hands and slammed them against her breasts. “Get to work, hoss. I ain’t got all day.”
Mitch pulled his hands back. “Don’t rush me. Until I’m done, these are my breasts to entertain myself with. You just sit there and enjoy basking in the sunshine of me.”
Sissy was seconds from telling Mitch what he could do with his “basking” when he leaned forward and wrapped his mouth around her left breast. She gasped, shocked at the amount of pleasure that shot through her system. His mouth was hot and his tongue ... talented.
Wrapping her hands around his head, her eyes tightly shut, she held him close against her. He sucked, hard, and Sissy’s pussy clenched in time to the tugs.
She let out a low groan. “I can’t wait any longer,” she whispered.
He pulled back and pushed her off his lap. “Get the rest of your clothes off,” he ordered before he jumped up and ran out of the room and up the stairs.
Assuming he’d return, Sissy kicked her shorts across the room and untied the back of her bikini top so she could finish taking it off.
By the time she dropped it to the floor, Mitch came charging down the stairs, tripping and sliding past the family room entryway, sliding back and into the family room. He slid to a stop in front of her, tossing a handful of condoms over his shoulder onto the couch.
“Where did those come from?”
“Your parents’ stash—”
Sissy held her hand up. “I don’t want another word.”
“You’re still not naked,” he told her.
“You’re never consistent. Either I’m going too slow or too fast.”
“Whatever.” Mitch pushed her back a bit and dropped to his knees in front of her. He took hold of her bikini bottoms and jerked them down her legs. “Step.” She stepped out of them, and he flung them over his shoulder.
“Back in a minute,” he said before burying his face against her pussy.
She laughed and gasped again as his tongue swiped against her already wet slit, his hands pushing her thighs apart so he could get in closer.
The legendary lion tongue. Used the way the Lord intended, it could remove flesh from bone. Used another way, it had Sissy squirming and not sure she could stay on her feet much longer.
She dug her fingers into Mitch’s hair, hauling him closer, spreading her legs wider. Mitch’s big hands slid up the back of her legs until they gripped her ass, kneading and squeezing her while his tongue continued to work her pussy.
Eyes sliding shut, Sissy felt the sensations wash over her. It had been a long time since she’d felt anything this good, anything that had the ability to make her feel like she could simply relax and let him do whatever he wanted ...
Sissy’s eyes snapped open, and she wrenched away from Mitch. What was she doing? She knew her rules ... boundaries. There always had to be boundaries. But when he looked up at her with nothing but concern and her juices on that handsome face, she felt a little more panic dig in, and her boundaries began to slip away.
Unwilling to let it go, Sissy did what she always did so well. She took control.
“Up,” she ordered, grabbing Mitch by the hair and lifting. He went with her and let her shove him back on the couch. Dropping to her knees in front of him, she reached for the button fly of his jeans. Once it opened, she gripped the worn denim and the soft cotton boxers underneath and pulled, grunting at him to raise his hips. He did, and she dragged the jeans down and off.
With him completely naked, Sissy gave herself a moment to stare at the perfection in front of her. All that power wrapped up in one golden package with a cock that could choke a rhino.
Placing her hands on his legs, Sissy started at the knees and slid her palms across the hard, muscular flesh. Raising herself up a bit, she leaned in, her lips grazing his inner thigh, followed by her tongue. She reached his cock, which had grown deliciously harder and thicker in the last few seconds.
Gently, she stroked her tongue against each vein and ridge, circling the head before tracing her steps back down. He growled low, and she knew she was pushing the cat. She didn’t care. At this very moment, she had complete control of him and his cock—nothing could be sweeter.
Sissy wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, her tongue licking off the pre-cum while she sucked. Mitch hissed between his teeth, and Sissy took hold of his balls, squeezing at the same time she swallowed him whole.
Holyshitholyshitholyshitholyshitholyshitholyshit.
Other than that, Mitch was pretty much beyond basic thought. Sissy had wiped his mind clean. His ability to reason or plan or fuck with people’s lives had been momentarily dissolved with the use of her wicked mouth.
Since it had been a while since he’d trusted a woman enough to have her in his bed, it wouldn’t take much more to have him blow. But this wasn’t any woman. This was “wicked smile” Sissy. He didn’t realize until this moment how long he’d been fighting his attraction to her. How much he’d wanted her. And now he had her—and she was sucking his brain cells right out of his head.
Groaning, Mitch dug his hands into Sissy’s hair and pulled her in close. He held her tight against him and let the power of a long overdue orgasm tear through him and straight into her mouth.
Sissy gripped his thighs, her mouth wrapped tight around his cock, swallowing and sucking the come from his body. He jerked three times before he finished coming and let out that sigh of utter relief and
delight.
Panting, he dropped back against the couch. He let go of Sissy’s hair, and she let go of his cock.
She relaxed back, her ass resting on her heels, her thumb wiping the corners of her mouth.
If she was pissed he’d come in her mouth without warning, she didn’t show it. In fact, Sissy Mae looked pretty damn cocky at the moment. Not that she didn’t have a right to be, but there was something else there. Something Mitch couldn’t quite put his finger on.
She began to speak, and Mitch held up a finger. “Give me a minute,” he said, cutting her off.
She shrugged and sat Indian style on the floor.
Mitch pushed his hands through his hair, the sweat keeping it off his face, and he continued to watch Sissy through half-closed lids.
It took him a good minute, but it suddenly occurred to him what that expression on her face was—control. She thought she had it.
He’d seen the same look on the faces of pimps they had absolutely no evidence against or murder suspects who believed they’d successfully hidden the body somewhere.
True, the level of blow job he’d just received probably did make most men her slave until she’d gotten bored with them.
He knew her logic, too. If she kept control of him, she could keep control of herself. She’d be wild enough in bed to keep it interesting and him coming back for more, but her heart would never truly be in it. She’d never truly be in it. And why the hell would he want that? He could get meaningless fucks from anybody. He could definitely get them from females who were a hell of a lot less dangerous to his mental health than Sissy Mae Smith.
No, no. That wouldn’t work for him. Even if this thing lasted only until the sun came up, he wanted all of her in those few hours. And he’d have all of her, too.
Mitch sat up, his elbows resting against his knees, and then he simply stared at her. Stared at her until her smug smile faded and she began to look a little nervous. Ahh. The wonderful benefits of being a cop.
“What?” she finally asked, her legs rising up until her knees rested together and her arms wrapped around her calves. In one move, she’d completely blocked herself off from him.
“You wet?”
Sissy snorted. “Most of the time.”
Christ, what a match. They had to be two of the horniest people on the planet. When motivated, Mitch could literally go all night. But whatever bullshit women might say to their friends, they were not always down with that.
Yet he had a distinct feeling Sissy was the one female who could actually keep up with him. But he didn’t want her spending the whole time trying to figure out how to control him. She could control those dogs who sniffed around her, but he wasn’t some dog.
Mitch stood and motioned to her with his hand. “Get up.”
Smiling, she slowly rose to her feet. She felt confident again, in control because he was hard again and she knew without a doubt he wanted her. He could see it on her face, in the way she moved.
“What?” she asked softly, now at her full six feet.
Using only the tips of his fingers, he stroked her face, her cheeks. Sissy’s eyes started to close, but she shook her head and went to step back. To move away from him.
Mitch slid one hand behind her neck, holding her in place with a loose grip while he moved in closer, until he could feel her skin against his. Like the predators they were, Mitch and Sissy stared at each other, trying to figure out who was stronger, more powerful.
Then they both smiled because at the moment, none of that mattered.
He kissed her hard, his one hand remaining on the back of her neck, the other sliding around her waist and down until he could grip her ass. He really does have a thing about my ass. He pulled her in tight, and Sissy could feel his hard cock digging into her belly, and she couldn’t wait anymore.
Sissy wrapped her arms around Mitch’s neck and brought her legs up and around his waist. Deliciously big hands gripped her ass, squeezing and releasing, while his mouth plundered hers.
Mitch, who always seemed so removed from everything—a true nomad lion without a Pride—made her feel like he was right there with her. She couldn’t believe what an aphrodisiac it was.
For both of them, apparently.
Sitting on the couch, Sissy still in his arms, Mitch kept a tight hold on her with one hand while blindly searching the couch for a condom. Sissy stroked his shoulders, his back. Their kiss a neverending thing until Mitch turned, pushed her to the couch, and crouched in front of her. He gripped her hips, lifting them up and pulling her to the edge of the couch. Sissy braced her hands, palms flat, against the couch cushion behind her. She watched Mitch don a condom before he placed his cock against her wet slit.
But then he didn’t move. Drenched, horny, and anxious, Sissy had run out of patience hours ago. Determined, she grabbed Mitch by the hair and yanked hard.
The smile he gave her was deadly while he pulled her down and shoved forward, his cock pounding into her with one awesome thrust.
Head falling back, Sissy let out a gasp of pure pleasure. Even better was the way Mitch held still for a good minute, his cock throbbing inside her. He was large, filling her completely and then a little more. There was pain ... and she loved it.
“Look at me.”
Sissy raised her head at the order. His fangs were out, his eyes like a big cat’s. Then she realized her fangs were out, too, her eyes probably shifted to wolf. Even more, she’d unleashed her claws, and she was currently ripping into her momma’s favorite couch.
She didn’t care. She’d buy the bitch a new couch. Later. Much later.
One side of Mitch’s mouth lifted, and Sissy marveled at the enormous size of Mitch’s fangs. True, she’d seen his fangs before but never when they were both naked and fucking. She should be freaked out. She wasn’t. She was so turned on she could barely think straight.
“Fuck me,” she ordered, unable to stand another second of this. “Fuck. Me.”
Her voice had dropped several octaves. Mitch answered by placing his knees on the couch and sitting up straight. He drew his hips back, dragging his cock from her, and with his eyes on her face, slammed back home.
Sissy snarled again, the complete unleashing of the She-wolf in her an absolute joy while Mitch fucked her hard. He didn’t hold back; she didn’t want him to. Their eyes stayed locked as Sissy destroyed her mother’s couch and Mitch held on to her like his very life depended on it.
When her entire body began to shake, Sissy began to worry. Her orgasms had always been straightforward and simple. It hit, she’d gasp a few times, squirm, let out a sigh, and smile. She was happy, the guy was happy, and all was right with the world.
But this ... this was turning into something out of control and dangerous. Her body was on fire, sweat poured from her, her moans had turned into short staccato screams, and she couldn’t stop the goddamn shaking. And the whole time, Mitch just kept watching her.
That’s what did it, too. The look on his face, the hunger in his eyes. He slammed into her one too many times, and Sissy flew over that edge, her entire body locking up as she ... as she ...
The scream he tore from her wasn’t remotely human, and she was thankful no one lived too close to the house because the sheriff would have been called, and wouldn’t that have been embarrassing.
Mitch answered her scream with a roar of his own. He roared, he shook and came. When he was done, he muttered curses before he fell on top of her, shoving her down onto the couch.
Their sweat-drenched bodies stayed locked until their heavy breathing relaxed and their heart rates returned to normal.
Eventually, Mitch levered himself off her and slid down to the floor, his back against the couch. Uncomfortable on the now torn-up cushion, Sissy sat down next to him.
For several long minutes, they said nothing. Instead, Sissy stared across the room, and Mitch took off his condom and wiped off using the tissues in the box on the side table, disposing of it all in the trash next to the couch.
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Sissy knew she’d definitely have to take out the trash before they left and her parents returned, or she’d be hearing about it until the end of time.
Finally, after what felt like hours but was really only ten or so minutes, Mitch spoke.
“This is your fault,” he said.
Chapter 14
Sissy leaned forward, her arms resting on her raised knees, and glared at him. “My fault? How is this my fault?”
Mitch pushed his wet hair off his face, not sure he’d ever recover from that orgasm. “It just is, and we both know it.”
Letting out a deep breath, Sissy nodded. “I see.” She stroked one finger across the black Celtic tattoo taking up his left bicep. “I like this.”
“Thanks,” he muttered absently, wondering what he was going to do next.
“It makes doing this so precise.” Then that misleadingly small fist slammed into the spot covered by the tattoo.
“Ow! What the hell was that for?”
“Do you think I’m happy about this?” she demanded, getting to her feet. “And this is your fault. Yours!”
Mitch stood. “How is this my fault? I’m not the one with the pussy that drains the life from a man!”
“And I’m not the one hung like an overendowed donkey!”
Holding his hand up, Mitch asked, “Wait—what are we arguing about?”
She was quiet for a moment and then snapped her fingers. “Feeling trapped.”
“We are? I don’t know. Your damn breasts are mesmerizing me,” he finished on a mumble.
“I can’t believe you’re hard again,” she sighed in what sounded like awe.
“It’s a lion thing. To be really blunt, I can go for hours.”
Panting, Sissy’s hand rested on her stomach, and she abruptly moved toward him. Automatically, instinctively, he moved toward her. They were nearly in each other’s arms, when they both stopped and turned away.
“We need rules,” she said, echoing what was in his mind.
“Rules. Yeah, I like rules.”
The Mane Attraction Page 18